A Summer Memory

Jin Schofield (9) STAFF REPORTER

It’s as if I am still there.

I remember gazing over an empty plot of land – nothing but flat, glistening stone for hundreds of meters. Seated under a scrawny tree, I savour the tiny amount of shelter provided to me from the blazing sun. As I stare out across this vast blanket of stone, I marvel in this monument’s prominence – significance one might say rivals that of the Parthenon, the Great Wall, and the Pyramids.

This mighty field of stone is known as the Pnyx – the ancient root of democracy. It is located within the heart of Athens, yet not one other tourist is within sight. Millennia ago, this empty lot would have been bustling with Athenian citizens as they carried out their right to vote. Broken shards of ancient pottery are still scattered across the ground, remnants of voting ballots that were used by Athens’ proudest citizens. Beside me is a crumbling staircase – the pedestal at which Athenian politicians such as Pericles and Alcibiades would have performed their renowned speeches, Socrates and Plato hidden among the eager crowd.

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This memorial of liberty was once alive.

Yet, it is now neglected – forgotten by our collective memory.

It felt incredible – to know I was in the birthplace of democracy, free speech, and Western civilization. I hope to return one day and once again pay my respects to the graves of the giants whose shoulders we now stand upon.

Giants that we have long forgotten.