Written by Ishita Garg, a senior in high school and founder of the Origami For Good Delhi chapter of Origami For Good.
Ever since my parents separated, life has been in a constant state of motion. My mother became the sole supporter for me and my sister, and with each passing year, we moved to new cities, new schools, new teachers, new friends. Each year felt like starting from scratch. It was overwhelming, and I often found myself lost in the transition.
In every new school, I had no recognition. I was just the "new kid." Though I had a deep love for arts and crafts, something I shared with my mother and even won prizes for but it never went beyond the classroom. The students who had been at the school longer were always chosen to represent or perform. Maybe it was about reliability or familiarity. But to me, it was heartbreaking. I was just a kid too. I wanted to participate. I wanted to belong.
Eventually, I stopped trying. Not because I didn't care, but because it started to hurt. The emotional weight of constantly proving myself made me retreat. I became the quiet student sitting in the back seat, an introvert, feeling invisible and not good enough. But life shifted after I completed 10th grade. I got the opportunity to pursue a diploma in Computer Science at a training college, a place I would finally stay for three years.
This stability gave me the space to rebuild. I joined clubs, met people, and began reconnecting with the person I had hidden away. That’s when I found Origami For Good. The moment I read about the initiative, something stirred in me. I remembered the days of folding paper with my mom, creating something beautiful out of something so simple. It felt like a return to myself. I started the Origami For Good Delhi chapter to introduce origami not just as an art form, but as a hobby therapy, a pause from the endless noise of digital content and overstimulation. Origami demands focus, and in that focus, we find calm. We find ourselves.
Through this initiative, I hope to bring origami to children, to underprivileged communities, and to those who are neurodivergent or specially abled. I want it to be a moment of joy, a smile in the middle of a hard day, and a way to keep our inner child alive. Because even when we feel like we are not enough, there’s a quiet power in creating, connecting, and healing. And sometimes, it all starts with a simple fold of paper.
