My Grandfather’s Notebook
North Andover, MA
2024, Senior, Creative Writing
As summer’s warmth enveloped the sky, I was drafting a response to my grandfather’s heartfelt invitation to spend the summer at his place. His residence, located at the heart of Yangpyeong, a region renowned for its expansive rice fields, stood as a symbol of our family’s long-standing tradition in rice farming. Rice has always been more than just a basic necessity for us. It has served as a familial thread, linking generations through the shared heritage of cultivating rice. Hence, the arrival of his letter filled me with eager anticipation, fueled by the warm thought of family ties and the serene beauty of nature.
While I was packing the evening before my departure, my eyes caught a glimpse of a wooden picture frame, turned downwards on a shelf. Approaching it, I turned the frame over to discover a photo of my grandfather and me, standing in the very rice field I was about to visit. Thrilled at the prospects of sharing this memory with him, I carefully set the frame on top of my suitcase and went to bed, unaware of the discoveries that awaited me.
Stepping out of the car, I was immediately hit by the tranquility of the lush, green rice paddies that stretched vastly, their reflection mirrored by the unblemished, blue sky of Yangpyeong. “Wow,” I whispered under my breath unconsciously, as I tried to grasp all the wondrous nature that was surrounding me. Time seemed to decelerate as the stresses and strains of the car ride slowly dissolved into the past. The river caught the gentle sunlight shining over the landscape, highlighting the vibrant body of wildflowers.
That was when I spotted my grandfather walking towards me. I couldn’t help but rush up the hill to greet him with a warm embrace, feeling the comfort and wisdom of my grandfather. We walked along the stone path to his house, and with each step, I noticed the old, colorful smudges from years ago. The door creaked loudly as I swung it open and hurried upstairs to the guest room. Although he lived by himself, my grandfather maintained an extra room, which over the years I had come to consider my own, adorned with a panoramic view of the farmlands and the rivers. The wooden walls displayed paintings I had drawn of him, capturing the summer days he spent on the farm. In the closet, I found my work clothes and boots, clean and ready for use. That day, I showed my grandfather the picture frame and spent hours updating him on the events that had filled my year.
The following morning, I was roused by the sharp cries of roosters and the bright sun rays streaming through the curtains. I made my way downstairs and found my grandfather making rice and bulgogi, my favorite meal. I settled at the small, aged wooden table, a fixture that had been at the same spot for as long as I can remember.
“Are we going to the rice farms as we always do?” I inquired as I sat down.
At that exact moment, I noticed a change in my grandfather’s expression as he replied, “No, honey. The rice and wheat fields aren’t ready. I don’t think we will make it out there today.”
Trying my best to hide my disappointment, I asked, “Why not? We always go during this time of the year.” Watching him rise and move towards his room left me in a state of bewilderment. He returned with a small, thick brown notebook in hand. Its pages were filled with meticulous, handwritten notes within each calendar square, so dense that they seemed to challenge the confines of the pages, which were worn and frayed from frequent use.
“What is this?” I asked, thumbing through the well-worn pages of the notebook.
“It’s where I keep records of my farming activities,” he explained. “It includes everything from the seed varieties to crop behaviors and harvest timelines.”
Noting my silence, he suggested I turn to page 97. On the page, I found this year’s record of what he planted and what he observed each day, including weather patterns. While I was absorbing the information, he stepped out and returned with another notebook, which appeared older. “Compare it with this,” he said, opening a page from 20 years earlier.
I immediately noticed a difference. The same seeds, sown at the same time each year, took longer to mature, with the yields decreasing over time.
“Why is this happening?” I pressed, seeking answers.
His reply was grave. “Many factors are at play, but it’s primarily due to climate change. Increasing temperature causes growing seasons to become longer. And since plants are growing for a longer time, they require more resources like water. Also, the rising temperatures make it increasingly challenging to predict weather patterns. We face droughts when we need rain, floods when we need dryness, and new pests as they multiply and expand into areas previously unaffected.”
“How much are the crops getting affected?”, I asked, trying to process the information.
Pointing to the notebook, he answered, “Each incremental increase in temperature can reduce yield of key crops by approximately 3 to 7 percent.”
“But aren’t there ways to solve the problem?” I interrupted with a hint of urgency in my voice.
“There are a few. I heard from my friend a couple days ago that an institution was developing drought-tolerant rice, flood-tolerant rice, and—”
“But that isn’t the same”, I interrupted as he was explaining. “All those types of rice won’t be the same as the original. The very one I’ve grown up with,” I exclaimed.
A wave of silence swept the room as he closed his notebook and placed it back in his drawer. Then, with a sigh, he said, “I know. The only real solution is addressing climate change. You can’t find alternatives for everything, and there may come a day when a significant part of the world’s population will face food scarcity.”
When it was time for me to leave, I turned for one last view of Yangpyeong. I allowed myself a moment to fully appreciate the picturesque farmlands and the fresh breeze before setting off for the city. After a heartfelt embrace with my grandfather, I climbed into the car. With the engine roaring into action, the car started its trip back to the urban environment. Looking through the window, my eyes swept across a sprawling landscape filled with rice paddies, wheat fields, and various fruit and vegetable gardens. Observing these numerous farms, I realized the scope of the problem. The impact of climate change was not limited to my grandfather’s farm but extended to the whole of Yangpyeong and beyond, affecting the entire farming industry. Decreases in crop yields were evident not only in rice but also in wheat and corn. This issue of declining food availability due to climate change was becoming a worldwide concern.
After my return from Yangpyeong, I did not immediately become a major climate warrior. Instead, I started taking small steps like joining my school’s climate change club and discussing decreasing crop yields. I also started to pay attention to the crop yields every time I went to Yangpyeong and kept track of it in my very own notebook. This bittersweet experience of my 7th grade summer has left me with a new perspective on how I view climate change.
Works Cited
“Climate Change – Ready Rice.” International Rice Research Institute, Last Modified ND, https://www.irri.org/climate-change-ready-rice
Cho, Renee. “How Climate Change Will Affect Plants.” Colombia Climate School, January 27, 2022, https://news.climate.columbia.edu/2022/01/27/how-climate-change-will-affect-plants/
Reflection
I first encountered the term ‘climate change’ during my seventh-grade science class. Throughout the course, I studied and analyzed graphs that showed rising ocean levels, without grasping their real-world implications. When it was time for my science test, I memorized that “Climate change is the change in weather patterns over a prolonged period”, and quickly forgot about it after, oblivious of its serious consequences. This lack of awareness remained with me until my annual summer visit to Yangpyeong, a tradition that involved helping with my family’s generational rice harvesting business. It was here, noticing the dwindling rice yields, that the true impact of climate change hit me. My research began with an emphasis on rice, but it quickly expanded to show that significant crops such as corn and wheat were similarly impacted. I chose to write about the reduction in rice production because I was motivated by my personal ties to my grandfather and because this aspect of climate change often goes unnoticed, even though it holds considerable importance.