Vulnerability, and the Outcomes of Creating Lifelong Friendships
Reflections on my views of emotional power in literature and personal academic writing .
“The Glass Castle a Novel” by Jeannette Walls, is not just a woeful reading experience, but an honest unraveling of what it means to survive when love and pain are tangled together. It captures the weight of being torn between your own sense of self-worth and the constant fight for survival, all while enduring the actions of emotionally distant parents. Growing up in poverty doesn’t just strip away comfort it shapes you, carving out resilience while forcing you to cling to unconditional love. For the Walls family, hardship becomes a daily language, one that both binds them together and feeds the inner demons born from scarcity.
“I wanted to let the world know that no one had a perfect life, that even the people who seemed to have it all had their secrets” Jeanette Walls, page 270.
This line stays with me. It reminds me that maturity doesn’t come with age, but with empathy with choosing to see others fully and holding on to your values when everything else is breaking apart. Walls shows us that empathy isn’t soft or weak; it’s what drives people to make hard choices for the sake of those they love. It is what guides you when you’re trying to make sense of yourself and the way your environment shapes your mind.
San Diego State University Professor Shawna Saponjic, explained how the relationship between variables can be positive or negative how shifting one factor can completely alter another. That lesson made me think of Jeannette. She understood that her choices choosing to care, to take responsibility, to hold empathy even for her alcoholic father would change the entire course of her family’s survival. She knew the weight of it, and she carried it anyway.
Jeannette steps into the role of caretaker for her siblings, becoming the steady force that holds them together when everything else falls apart. Her dedication is unwavering she doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t complain, doesn’t stop. But the cost of that strength is heavy. She neglects her own mental health, burying her needs, until the overwhelm pushes her into emotional distance and solitude. That part of her story feels the most human to me the way survival can demand everything you have, until there’s almost nothing left for yourself.
Walls shows us that love, resilience, and sacrifice can keep a family alive, but they also come with wounds that don’t heal easily. Reading her story is painful, but it’s also a reminder of how powerful empathy can be, even when it comes at a cost.
The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls is one of the most meaningful books I’ve ever read because it captures the raw emotional complexity between a daughter and her wild, nomadic family. I’ve never thought of myself as a reader, but every once in a while, a book comes along that completely pulls me in, and Walls’s writing did just that. I’m usually drawn to two kinds of stories such as romance, because of my vulnerable heart, and biographies or memoirs, because they hold truth. Memoirs like The Glass Castle allow me to step inside someone else’s reality, to witness moments so powerful and life changing that they had to be written down. In Walls’s story, I found more than survival; I found a deep exploration of how love, pain, and resilience can shape a person’s entire sense of self-worth.
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One aspect of my sense of self that anchors me to my writing now as a college student is a summer camp in Arizona. My mom and all five of her siblings volunteered there as teenagers as well, Youth Rising (formally known as Workshop for Youth and Families). I first attended as a participant when I was just seven, and later, after the pandemic, I returned as a camp counselor during my freshman year of high school. This place wasn’t just a camp it was a space that taught kids how to lean on each other, face difficult emotions, and support others through their struggles.
All of this was because of Frances Mills-Yerger, the founder of Youth Rising in 1979. Dr. Franny was the heart and soul of the camp. She led us in games and group activities, encouraged moments of self-reflection, and gave everyone a sense of compassion and care. She reminded us that we’re all human, that everyone needs someone to lean on, and that friendships and knowing how to set boundaries are essential for surviving life’s challenges. Being there showed me not only the importance of community, but also how experiences like this shape your sense of self and the way you care for others.
After Dr. Franny Retired, she handed the organization down to Hannah Brown. I cherished every moment with Franny and the knowledge that Youth Rising would always be my home away from home, even without her. During the pandemic, Youth Rising struggled financially, and despite Hannah’s best efforts to keep it afloat, the camp ultimately sank. Even though Youth Rising is no longer an active part of my life, the lessons I learned there stay with me every single day.
At camp, we would write letters of appreciation to each other and to our loved ones, sharing experiences that made us sentimental. On the last day, parents wrote letters to their children, expressing pride in their growth and whatever else they wanted to say. The children would then sit back-to-back with their parents to read the letters. In those moments, the magic of Youth Rising shone through. Kids who had been hesitant, even wanting to leave when they first arrived, would be welling up with tears; being vulnerable and empathetic toward kids and counselors they had only known for a week. That was the true gift of the camp: the gift of vulnerability.
That’s why I read emotionally heavy books and write about mental health to explore empathy, vulnerability, and the psychology of emotions. Some of the strongest connections I’ve ever made were with the other Peer Leaders at camp. Youth Rising was a family to all of us, from Peer Leaders to the Leadership team. A family that would always be there for each other. Many of us had once been participants ourselves, and now we had the chance to share that experience with a new generation of kids.
During those weeks, my family never left my side. Even though we are all on our own paths and at different stages of life, we have Youth Rising to look back on, knowing the bond we built is unbreakable. If any of my Peer Leaders are reading this, know that I am so grateful you were a part of my life. I truly cherish the bonds we made, and I miss all of you. I wish we had more time together as a family. Thank you ORHO, for everything.
Youth Rising 1979–2022.
Reading The Glass Castle and experiencing Youth Rising taught me the same lesson in different ways: resilience, empathy, and self-awareness are forged in the midst of struggle. Walls’s story showed me how someone can carry the weight of family while holding on to empathy, and my time at camp showed me that you can create spaces for others to carry that same weight together. Both experiences anchor me in my writing now they remind me that stories, whether written on a page or lived in real life, are about connection, growth, and the ways we navigate the hardships and joys of being human and showing emotion.
