Jo

Joanna Burgel stands at the awkward threshold between childhood and adolescence, her body caught in the gentle tug-of-war of early puberty. Her honey-colored hair, straight and fine, falls just past her shoulders, often escaping the haphazard ponytail she ties it into each morning. Her hazel eyes are restless and expressive—sometimes greenish-brown, sometimes shimmering with blue and gold flecks, depending on the light and her mood. A pert little nose and round, apple-like cheeks soften the emerging angles of her face, hinting at the woman she will become while still clinging to the softness of girlhood. Her skin, usually clear, now sports a single, angry pimple below her left eye—a source of both horror and fascination for her. Joanna’s limbs are long and coltish, her hands quick and capable, her posture unconsciously protective of her chest, which has begun to ache with unfamiliar tenderness. She dresses in practical, slightly too-small clothes, the hems of her jeans fraying and her T-shirts faded from too many washes, always prioritizing comfort and movement over style.

Joanna’s personality is a tapestry woven from resilience, practicality, and a self-deprecating sense of humor that she wields like a shield. She calls herself “Joanna the Burger” in a wry nod to her last name, quick to make a joke at her own expense before anyone else can. Beneath her easy smile and gentle teasing lies a core of steel: Joanna is resourceful in ways that surprise even herself, able to improvise solutions to problems most adults would find daunting. She isn’t “book smart”—schoolwork is a challenge, and she’s always had to work twice as hard for passing grades—but she possesses a deep, intuitive common sense. She reads people well, picks up on unspoken cues, and adapts quickly to changing circumstances. Her love for her little brother Josh is fierce and unconditional; she endures his tantrums, his stubbornness, and his endless questions with the patience of someone who knows he is her responsibility, her family, her whole world. Joanna is not immune to fear or frustration—her moods swing wildly these days, and she is easily overwhelmed by fatigue and hunger—but she refuses to let Josh see her falter.

Before her world tilted, Joanna was a cheerful, well-liked girl with a knack for making friends and a reputation for kindness among her teachers. She was never the star student, but her good attitude and willingness to help others made her a favorite in the classroom. She loved riding her bike through the neighborhood, playing soccer at the park, and baking cookies with her mom on lazy Sunday afternoons. The arrival of her little brother Josh brought a new sense of purpose and joy—she adored him from the start, taking on the role of big sister with pride. But after Josh was born, Joanna began to notice subtle changes in her mother, Janet. The laughter that once filled their home grew rare, replaced by long silences and sudden outbursts. Janet became forgetful, sometimes leaving the stove on or missing school events. There were days when Janet wouldn’t get out of bed, her eyes distant and unfocused. Joanna learned to tiptoe around her moods, to care for Josh when their mother couldn’t, and to hide her own worries behind a brave face.

Unbeknownst to Joanna, her mother’s struggles began as postpartum depression after Josh’s birth, a condition that went undiagnosed and untreated. Janet had always been a loving, attentive mother, but the hormonal upheaval following Josh’s arrival triggered a slow but relentless decline in her mental health. Over time, depression gave way to anxiety and, eventually, to erratic behavior that sometimes bordered on paranoia. Joanna watched as her mother withdrew from friends, lost her job, and grew increasingly reliant on Joanna to manage the household. There were rumors among neighbors about Janet’s odd behavior, whispered concerns from teachers, but no one intervened. Joanna became the glue holding their fragile family together, learning to cook, clean, and soothe Josh’s nightmares while pretending everything was fine. When Janet finally left them—disappearing one morning without a word—Joanna was devastated but not entirely surprised. She grieved, but she also understood, in a way only a child forced to grow up too soon can.

Now, as Joanna and Josh embark on their uncertain journey to find their father in Bend, Oregon, Joanna carries the weight of responsibility with quiet determination. She is haunted by fears she can barely name—of failing Josh, of not being enough, of her own body betraying her with changes she doesn’t understand. Yet, she presses on, improvising solutions, making the best of what little they have, and finding moments of laughter even in the darkest times. Joanna is a survivor, a caretaker, and, above all, a big sister whose love is her greatest strength.