A Boy Scout troop in Missouri, a horse racing festival in Tibet, a Sichuan restaurant in Queens, a candlelit protest in South Korea: In the photo essays below, the runners-up in our “Where We Are” contest introduce you to nine fascinating, vibrant communities, and show you the places where they gather with others.
As always, we invite you to leave comments for these young photojournalists to tell them what you thought. And if you haven’t already, please also enjoy the work of our winner, and find a list of all the finalists here.
Note: With their permission, we have condensed the work of the runners-up to four photos and an edited version of their original introduction and captions.
Alley 41: A Hidden Sichuan Haven in Flushing
By Tony-JunLin Pan, 15, Jericho, N.Y.
The sun began to clip the horizon just outside 41st Avenue in Flushing, Queens, a community with a history of Chinese family-owned restaurants. Groups of hungry customers began trickling into Alley 41 through an inconspicuous entrance tucked between private residences.
More than a restaurant, Alley 41 — also known as 蜀巷, or “Sichuan Alley” in Chinese — was started by Yao Hua, and stands as a cultural sanctuary for Chinese Americans craving the timeless comfort and flavors of home.
Mr. Yao remembers his search for belonging in New York when he first immigrated. “Sichuan flavors were not the same. Restaurants did not feel the same. I thought I would never find that childhood memory again. I grew up in a small alley in Chengdu with countless restaurants, so I wanted to find an environment in America similar to home,” he said.
Inside the restaurant during rush hour, groups of people huddle around the traditional, family-style tables that are often used in Chinese homes. The use of traditional teapots and utensils also serves to remind customers of memories of home. For those who grew up in China, it feels like a space reminiscent of street-side dining in Chengdu.
For immigrants like Yao, when he is not serving the Chinese community, introducing Sichuan cuisine to those unfamiliar with it is “like opening a door to a new world.”
Behind the chatter and the clinking of chopsticks in the dining area lies the nucleus of Alley 41 — the kitchen. Workers with kitchen nicknames like Uncle Jacky, Uncle Luo, Uncle Huang and Auntie Tao work tirelessly behind the scenes to craft unmistakably bold Sichuan flavors through dishes like Chengdu sweet and spicy noodles. They navigate the jam-packed kitchen to retrieve and prepare ingredients and condiments that are the backbone of a diverse menu.
For Auntie Tao, recreating Sichuan cuisine is “not only meeting the future of the moment, but also sharing your own culture and family memories.”
Fire flared up as Uncle Jacky stir-fried ingredients in a wok, achieving the smoky flavor commonly referred to as “wok hei,” by cooking at high temperatures above open stoves.
Such challenging skills performed by chefs require lots of patience and hard work, but, according to Uncle Luo, “When you bring Chinese food to local people and other cultural backgrounds in the United States, this challenge is more meaningful.”
Alley 41 serves as a testament to historical Flushing, a place shaped by the generational dedication of lower-class immigrants seeking new opportunities abroad. Despite modernization in the area, Alley 41 has remained a constant in providing comfort food at affordable prices, earning itself the Michelin Bib Gourmand certificate.
Mr. Yao and his team are creating cultural bridges through food, helping people not only to taste Chinese culture, but also to find shared happiness and emotional connection in the process.
The Magic of Life
By Martina Sirvent Suarez, 15, Barcelona, Spain
Children like eight-year-old Ruben often feel a sense of loneliness and sorrow while they are on the oncology ward at Sant Joan de Déu Hospital in Barcelona. Their friends and families might see them as different, and feel pity for them.
But those difficulties vanish when they put on a top hat. Magic tricks provide escapism and a sense of normalcy. Becoming one of the Magician Kids helps them see themselves as protagonists, not because of what they are going through, but because of what they are achieving.
The Magician Kids are a community of children that has formed around Vidas Mágicas, an organization of professional magicians who come onto the wards to perform magic tricks and teach them to the patients. The organization took its name, which translates to “Magical Lives,” after a patient remarked, “Magic gives me life.”
Every week, one or two magicians from Vidas Mágicas visit and do a performance. Once they’ve performed, friends and family leave the room and the magicians teach the kids how to do each trick. Then their loved ones come back, and it’s the patients’ show!
Once a magic session has ended, the students receive a diploma as apprentice magicians, which includes taking the artistic name of their choice.
“With this diploma, they not only gain a special title, but also a sense of achievement and belonging to a special community,” said Josep Coch, the founder of the organization. Whenever possible the magic shows are performed in small groups. That way, the children can learn from one another, practice their tricks, and improve together.
Berta, 6, pictured above, is a huge fan of “Frozen.” Her artistic nickname is “Magician Elsa.”
“What I miss the most is my home bedroom,” she said. Though she has recently been moved to a spacious room with a large window through which she can watch squirrels play in the garden, nothing is quite like home.
Victoria Bedmar, pictured here, is Ruben’s grandmother. She had always sworn that she would never get a tattoo. But here she is with “Vida,” which means “life,” on her shoulder. She got it in honor of Ruben and his bravery.
“Who is my life?” she asks him.
He answers: “I am.”
Magician Valentino, 5, delights in performing the same trick over and over, and continues to be amazed as the same card appears with each attempt. Despite the fact that he has limited vision, magic still gives him joy, surprise and amazement.
Magic is not only fun to learn, but also a valuable opportunity to socialize and make new friends. Through magic, these children share something about themselves other than their illnesses, which are no longer in the spotlight.
Karate Extravaganza: Exploring an Okinawan Dojo Community
By Miu Nakano, 16, Yomitan, Japan
An island nicknamed the “Birthplace of Karate” sits on the Pacific Ocean just a two-and-a-half-hour plane ride from the bustling heart of Tokyo. In contrast to the busy metropolitan cities of mainland Japan, the prefecture of Okinawa is made up of over 150 islands with sandy beaches and lush forests. The largest and most populated of these islands, also called Okinawa, is where karate was born.
Karate Kids Dojo, located on the island in Ginowan City, boasts a vibrant community that welcomes everyone. A melting pot of cultures, the dojo students hail from all sorts of different backgrounds. They practice a specific karate style, Shorin-Ryu, which focuses on learning kicks and punches as opposed to some other styles that use weapons.
Karate Kids has an annual tradition of starting Hatsugeiko — the first training of the year — with a unique twist: They practice on the beach.
Karate Kids started its annual beach Hatsugeiko in January of 2013 and has continued it ever since. The practice is said to purify the mind and the spirit.
It begins with running laps around the beach as a warm up, then doing the Kata performance. Kata is a sequence of movements that help students practice correct form in karate. Despite differences in ages and skills, students all uniformly perform their Kata in sync.
Though the weather was cold and wintry, the dojo students persevered through the training. Waves crashed onto the shore just a few feet from where they stood.
After the Kata performance ends, the students participate in an obstacle race using ropes provided by the dojo. Kids of all ages partake in the jump rope challenge, where they crawl and leap to avoid a rope swung by parents. The students compete to reach the goal first, but only a few manage to clear the rope.
Many come to the Hatsugeiko not just to train, but to mingle with each other and strengthen bonds within the community.
Originally from India, Danusiyaa Saravanan started karate with her whole family just a few months ago. After her first time participating in Hatsugeiko, she said, “It was a splendid experience and I got to hang out with my family.”
Her younger brother, who doesn’t know a word of Japanese and had a hard time making friends in their neighborhood, has quickly adjusted and has made connections with his fellow students in the dojo.
As Akemi Sensei, the teacher, explained, “Our dojo strives to raise children to grow into individuals who will ‘conquer themselves, not others.’”
Horse-Racing Tibetans at Gannan, Blessed by Nature
By Buyu Lyu, 17, Somerset, N.J.
Settled on the prairie between the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau and the Loess Plateau, Gannan, Tibet, is isolated from the outside, but the people there form unique bonds through communal prayers and collective participation in activities.
Horse racing is one of those activities. It is not only entertainment but also a part of the community’s religion, since Tibetan Buddhism values nature and animals. Invited by a local resident, La-Zhang, to the horse race festival, I had a chance to take a close-up view.
As we arrived at the venue, my cellular connection was cut off. The altitude hinders cellphone signals, yet at the same time protects the community from the colonization of social media. The normalized isolation in this place felt unsettling as I was separated from the phone I was so accustomed to. But for most of the people here, entertainment isn’t TikTok but riding horses.
“Children don’t grow up with phones,” said La-Zhang. “They play with nature, horses and such things. You don’t see this in central China.”
La-Zhang, originally from Beijing, said he has embraced this sacred land, finding solace and shelter.
“I escaped to this place to leave my past worries behind. I won’t return to Beijing; the same goes for my son. I want my son to grow up playing with his horse, not studying all day long like children in Beijing,” he said.
It is a lifelong honor for a Tibetan to win a horse race. If he wins, his fame will spread and bring honor to his family and village. Hence, every child practices with their horse from a very young age.
In this photo, La-Zhang is bringing his boy to the horse race. Though the two engaged in prep-talk, the boy seemed to be born ready.
Yes, every family in Tibet has a horse. Tibetans bond with horses, feeding and caring for them from an early age. Children grow up with their horses. The horses are well cared for and even have customized, beautiful clothes that keep them warm and stylish.
“You guys have cats and dogs; we have our horses,” La-Zhang said. “Horses are smart, you know — smarter than you think.”
Before the race, a ritual takes place to ask for Buddha’s witness. During the ceremony, Tibetans toss paper talismans in the air and produce smoke with a campfire. This is when they pray. Each person has their own wishes. Some pray for health, while some thank Buddha for a successful year, and pray for the upcoming one.
A sacred sense of unity reigns when the Tibetans pray. It is a powerful, silent moment.
In the Chair
By Serene Hameed, 17, Shaker Heights, Ohio
From a very young age, sitting in the salon or barbershop chair becomes more than just a routine. For Black people, it is a universal cultural experience that has shaped identities and instilled in many a profound sense of self-love.
“In the Chair” is a tribute to the sacred spaces of Black hair salons and barbershops, where the beauty of Blackness is celebrated and the essence of community is felt. These spaces have always been a home for me, a place where I could show up as my authentic self and be embraced. While sitting in the chair, I have learned countless lessons.
I got the opportunity to document one such community that feels like a home — the House of Beautiful Locs Natural Hair Salon and Fade Away Barber Shop in Bedford Heights, Ohio.
In this image, clients and hairstylists at Beautiful Locs watch and comment on the Lifetime show “Bring It: The Dancing Dolls.”
After a joke was made, everyone laughed, and Tarsha Ivy, the salon owner, explained, “Baby, we are all family here.”
Alice Asimenu, an African braider, expressed her love for doing hair, and for making connections with people and listening to their stories. Hearing these stories opens so much space for connection and growth, she said.
“There is importance in self-care, and as a Black young lady, this represents self-respect,” said Heather Taylor, a hairdresser at another local spot, Salon Lofts Beachwood in Beachwood, Ohio.
These images document the beauty, pride, and resilience rooted in Black hair culture.
It’s not just about the hairstyles; it is about the stories, the joy and the empowerment found in these spaces, which are important cultural hubs.
We need to protect and celebrate the unique heritage they represent.
The Candlelight Vigil Without Candles
By Harim Oh, 15, Anseong, South Korea
South Korean nightlife is more alive than ever, but instead of clubbing at Itaewon or eating steaming hot tteokbokki in the winding alleys of Myeongdong, each Saturday night for South Koreans is filled with billowing flags and the call for President Yoon Suk Yeol’s impeachment, sung along to the beat of K-pop songs that are blasted from multiple stereos at once.
First held in 2008, candlelight vigils have become the epitome of what democracy represents within South Korea. As one of the most effective ways of peaceful protesting, these vigils have become the go-to solution for countering a tyrannical government.
At the vigil I recently attended, there was a sea of thick black puffer jackets as everyone from college students to grandparents fought against the cold. Waving flags of defiance, they protested President Yoon’s regime and his attempt at martial law.
But this candlelight vigil was unlike any other: There were almost no candles.
Instead of the quiet, traditional, warm orange-red candlelight, the streets were bright with neon pink and blue. Beats of K-pop shook the streets and blended with thousands of voices chanting for impeachment. To the protesters, this isn’t just advocating for change, it’s showing how united they are.
Nothing can stop a community that is enjoying itself.
Modern problems call for modern solutions. The majority of the crowd held out lights and cheering sticks, meant for concert stadiums.
“We fandoms have made a temporary alliance,” one protester laughed. People joined hands, singing along to classic K-pop songs, the lyrics altered to call for impeachment.
Vendors lined the streets, selling candles with LED lights. Candles sold out faster than piping hot hotteok, as more and more hands reached out to take part.
Shivering against the freezing wind, crowds of varying ages fought against the police. Students want to ensure a better life for themselves, parents wish their children a better world, and grandparents fear that humanity will repeat the past mistakes of Korea’s bloody history.
Posters of President Yoon lined the walls of city hall. The identical posters not only listed the crimes of his tyranny, but his face was carefully ripped out in each and every one.
“It might seem petty,” one protester commented, “but it’s just a testament to how what he did is unforgivable.”
South Korea is one of the countries in the world where military service is compulsory for young men. Through these months away from friends, family and home, soldiers learn the real-life struggles of our ancestors, who fought so hard and so bravely for the country we live in today. These lessons are a constant reminder that South Korea’s freedom and democracy have come at a cost.
People at the protest got lost in the music, with thousands participating in an impromptu karaoke session in the middle of the street, the -10°C weather was forgotten. Anyone and everyone was welcome to join.
“Who knew coming to a protest could be so exhilarating!” one remarked.
“I feel like Batman,” said another. “Work during the day, protect your country at night.”
Wrestling With Their Bodies and Minds: Inside the Fayetteville-Manlius Girls Team
By Maria Elis Lorga Novack, 18, and Marcus Albuquerque, 18, Manlius, N.Y.
Communities take work and patience, and sometimes adjusting to change is the only way to make them work at all.
The Girls Wrestling Team at Fayetteville-Manlius High School, in the suburbs of Syracuse, N.Y., is a true inspiration. Young women here have fought for years to have the same opportunities as their male classmates.
Lacey Teaken and Ariana Suraci, two girls originally on the boys’ team, led a three-year battle to create the Fayetteville-Manlius (F-M) team. Initially told there weren’t enough girls interested in wrestling, the two discovered that another local school, East Syracuse Minoa, was facing the same problem. The solution? Combining the teams.
Now girls like Madison Gallagher, in the headlock above, and Ava Bird, behind her, are part of a team of tough, smart and brave young women who are blazing a trail for future generations.
The main topic in girls’ wrestling is the weight classes, and how unfair they are, especially as you get to the heavier side.
There are 14 weight classes for girls and 13 for boys in New York state, and the lighter weight classes for girls are all five pounds apart — 100, 105, 110, 115, 120, 125, 130, 135, 140, and 145. But athletes who are over 190 pounds have to wrestle in the 235 pound class, regardless of their specific weight, so they face the choice of potentially wrestling someone who is 45 pounds heavier, or not wrestling at all.
Women in general struggle mightily with body image, always trying to reach impossible standards set by society. How can these girls ever be able to reach their full potential if their mental health is affected by trying to achieve at the thing they love the most? The girls wresting in this photo, Laurel Varga, right, and Norah Kelly, left, say it is hard to stay grounded and avoid unhealthy diets while they have to constantly worry about their weight.
When wrestling, team member Elizabeth Banashkevich reminds the others, it’s important to listen to your body as well as your head and understand that you may have reached your limit. Admitting defeat is hard for anybody, but sometimes understanding and respecting your own limits is even harder.
It’s impossible to go through the stress alone, and even though wrestling is considered an individual sport, the girls can only grow together as a team. Even in dual meets, when one girl loses, the whole team feels the loss.
Knowing that the F-M Girls Wrestling team is mentally prepared to trust themselves and each other, and to listen to their bodies as well as their minds, makes these girls an inspiration of perseverance and determination.
In This Dance Community, Kids Are No Longer ‘Left Behind’
By Ruihan Li, 17, Guangzhou, China
Deep in rural China, in the remote region of Yulin, Guangxi, peeling posters and faded graffiti tell the story of a tucked-away school, all but invisible to the outside world. “It is knowledge that changes our fate, and diligence creates miracles,” say the now barely legible slogans on the wall, struggling to tell an optimistic story.
This modest institution accommodates around 120 students across six grades, each with approximately 20 pupils.
Many of these are so-called left-behind children, with parents working far from home for long periods. The parents entrust their children’s upbringing to their grandparents, a reality that has left generations shaped by distance and family separation.
Only the fortunate few will have the chance to study in the single high school in the county, located an hour away. This leaves most with limited options: Enter the work force directly, often as early as 12 years of age, or assist their grandparents with agricultural chores.
Amid the sea of pupils here, some girls, from grades four and five, throw themselves into a new dance class taught by international students from Guangzhou.
“I’ve never had dance classes before. Now I can’t wait for each one. It feels like something out of a movie,” one said.
The girls rush into their first-floor classroom, always arriving early to push aside the bulky oak desks and chairs and create space for their movements. The more confident among them stand ready at the front.
“I used to work in another village, far from here, but I came back because I wanted to take care of my child,” Mrs. Xu, their instructor, said, pointing to her two-year-old son.
“My heart breaks for them. I can see the kids becoming more closed off the older they get, but whenever they dance, a joy, a raw energy, comes through.”
Despite the palpable enthusiasm in the room, some students exhibit a notable timidity, hiding behind peers when called on to show off their solo skills. In this way, these girls become literal shields for their shyer classmates. A love of dance and novelty doesn’t make one a diva by default.
But the dance class has done more than just give students newfound confidence. It also has given rise to tight-knit bonds.
“Dance class offers something different from what we usually learn at school,” said Zhao Dong, 11. “Honestly, these are my happiest memories so far.”
Students speak of the class as a sanctuary for them. Their boundless energy and curiosity are a promise of a future where no kids are left out or left behind.
Outside, amid autumn leaves that scatter like golden confetti, they practice what they’ve learned, their dreams for a moment stretching higher than the treetops.
A Place for Tomorrow’s Leaders to Grow
By Max Chung, 15, Ballwin, Mo.
Since the founding of the Boy Scouts of America in 1911, around 130 million youths have participated in the program. Of these, only 2.5 million have reached the B.S.A.’s highest rank, Eagle Scout.
B.S.A. Troop 631, based at St. Mark’s Presbyterian Church in Ballwin, Mo., is one of the largest troops in the New Horizons district, a subdivision of the Greater St. Louis Area Council. Since 1966, Troop 631 has fostered almost 300 nationally recognized Eagle Scouts.
The path to Eagle is not to be underestimated. On average, it takes a scout between four and six years to complete.
Though the gym of St. Mark’s Presbyterian Church has been the meeting place of this troop since its creation, the path to Eagle does not occur in one room or one building. It happens everywhere. Troop 631 goes on outings each month; some are 20 minutes away, some are hundreds or thousands of miles farther. In this image, for example, scouts are setting up their sleeping bags in a cabin on the Beaumont Scout Reservation in High Ridge Missouri.
With this constant movement, the impact of the Boy Scouts resonates throughout the St. Louis area and beyond.
At the beginning of each weekly meeting, held at 7 p.m. sharp, scouts like those pictured above line up for a flag ceremony. They rotate by patrols, which are groups who are assigned to act as a team, cooking, working and camping together.
“Boy Scouts is a brotherhood. It’s kind of something when you meet people from all across the world, no matter where you’re from, and you all have that same brotherhood bond that you’re in Boy Scouts,” said Dex Dean, a senior patrol leader and Eagle Scout.
After the weekly meeting, scouts clean up the gym. Throughout, you won’t see a frown: A core value of scouting is “cheerful service.”
“We do a lot of service projects here at St. Mark’s,” said Joseph Zaegel, who has reached the level of Life Scout, which comes just before Eagle. “We just make the place look and feel better,” he said.
Affectionately called “the cage,” this back corner of the St. Mark’s storage room houses all the troop’s equipment. The gear in this room is used for cooking, cleaning and sleeping year-round. Troop 631 is an all-weather troop, and still camps in the cold, the heat, the rain — even the occasional hurricane.
“In the wilderness, freedom makes sense within the troop, and it’s just a lot of fun to relax,” Joseph said.
One of the core lessons taught on this journey is leadership, and part of leadership is teaching others. The Scout Law and Oath all contain values that help train even younger scouts like Nate Bueg, pictured here, to become excellent teachers and leaders. Older scouts, often with years of experience, pass down their knowledge to newer scouts.
As Joseph explained it, “The Boy Scout community is a strong, positive community that strives to build people up and improve leadership skills in young individuals.”
