Newsvine will soon shut its doors, and the 'Grow Bulbs' will go out forever. Those of us who have been around for much of its short life (barely an adolescent) who are we, having lost a part of ourselves in mere childhood.
Just as an emerging teen, in real life, there is a sense of loss, when we move out of childhood into a very scary adult world. Most societies have a type of ritual for this, the 12/13 y/o releases childhood and is inoculated into emerging adult life. For the Jewish Boy, it is a Bar Mitzvah, and then his world changes over night.
Suddenly, all of us, feel thrust or pushed into a new role, when we are but children, but having to finally accept that we are growing up and maturing. Some toys, games, even acquaintances are left behind, and our heart strings feel the pain of being stretched too far, or even broken.
We have to 'move on' even though we would like never to change at all, and stay in our beloved bubble of innocence. We struggle to identify ourselves, and as awkward middle schoolers, not quite sure who we are or who we want to be.
Many of us, would never do it again, 6th grade, 7th grade, oh just too painful . . . we get hurt, sometimes leaving war scars that run quite deep.
Within our developing selves, is a glimmer of what we might sacrifice in the cause of ourselves (and others). Defending who we 'are' and who others are or are becoming, becomes a cause, in and of itself.
We develop a sense of morals, some we keep from those who helped raise us up to that level of conscientiousness.
Some take on the social identity of our parents (that is the easiest) and some of us really put effort into a type of individual idealism. We become warriors in our own causes, and we strive to congeal into a mold of self-awareness.
We like who we are, or strive to change either our inner being or build a facade.
We weigh how much we are willing to risk in the defense of others. We see 'something' bigger than ourselves, or we do not, simply put.
It is easy to supplant this growth with a codex/a primer.
Dick and Jane or Mao's Little Red Book, or even The Bible, The Koran, or The Torah.
From these we build The Book of Me.
When our idealism fails us, we are fallen.
So, Who are we now?