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Personal Essay Draft

 

I trekked through the forest, my heart racing. It had been raining for about three days straight, but now the sun was out, the trees were webbed with dew, creating a green and yellow canopy against the sky above. Little puddles of mud, and grooves of Nike shoes had made their territory in the trail, I avoided them and layed down my own little bootmarks. The creek was glimmering yet hiding below the steep hill that held out the ridge Poncho and I were treading. Across the river the same miniscule selection of Cobbs Creek park conservation along the polluted river vein.

 

I hear a little voice, a faint weight, my father's words, in my heart: do not go through this trail ever. But as usual, I never listen. Either my own arrogance, I'm a brat, or I just don't give a crap. The path is long, but not too long. Extensive enough to not be able to see the end halfway through. So you never know what's waiting for you there.

 

Referring to Poncho as subject, not ownership as always, a fairly sized, lean ivory blonde German Shepherd. Dead on arrival usually by every idiot who ever had a wolf hybrid or dog fear. Peacefully paws on in front of me. At this time in my life, I was pretty clueless has to how much of my love enveloped him. We always had this gentle, innocent, brother sister orb of trust and cooperation between us, that people never understood. Ignorant folk will think that he his a savage wolf that will eat their babies and tear their legs apart. Not that wolves are savage creatures at all, it’s just the mere look in their eyes when they see Poncho and I walking by on the parkway, you can definetly tell what they are thinking. German Shepherds are territorial, yet friendly and have a family guardian mentality. In the case of Poncho Buddy Jones, he has a weird fascination for tiny children, and basically anything who’s height is at eye level or smaller than him. I can’t count all the times I was absolutely embarassed and frightened when he would go darting after another dog, or even a little child. I notice he would never ever hurt them, he’d dart and then sniff and treat them gently. It took me a long time to learn to just let him socialize with other dogs, and mammals, because I know I cannot control him. But in this episode, luckily, we weren’t on the parkway, we were in the trails, partly a reason I chose to go this way. Luckily?

 

We had reached the turning point of the trails, the turning point being the halfway. The halfway, where you can’t look and see all the way forward, and you can’t look and see all the way back. It’s kinda steamy, I look across the other side of the creek, and my heart jolts. I hear a creak, and crepid disturbance in the branches.

 

SNAP!!

 

Poncho is unaware sniffing at some mud imprints. I am on full alert. If this was a cartoon my hair would probably be standing up in the air. If I had a tail it would be erect on my back. If I was a cat my claws would be engaging in the soil for dear life, and my back arched and frisked in some middle eastern pose to calibrate the flexibility.

 

And between the leaves hidden, behind the bushes, almost painted, a white tail cocked on grey hind legs and hips. I flashback. I remember another time where this must have happened before. I know what it is. But I am not sure. I am still scared. My heart is still pulsing,and my shaken instincts telling me to go back, as if to leave the building at the peak of a terremoto.

 

A few more appear, unfortunately I can only see their backs. The grey hind legs and the white whisping standing tails. I turn around with, yanking gentled yet briskly on poncho’s leash, and we rush back out of the trails and into the park.

 

I sit here now, and muse over a previous time when this happened. It was about midday, it was past snow, and I was going through the trails from the community center. It was my first time doing this. But I remember seeing the same running hind legs, and I remember running for my life. Petrified, thinking they were wolves.

But they were dear, and merely that. Not wolves, and not dangerous. Harmonious creatures I’d say. And at that day, going back home through the park, I realized I had merely nothing but a shadow of fear created in me, to be fearful of.

 

I really learned a lot from this activity including various vocabulary words and how to form sentences in Spanish. This was a new experience for me because I have always used Facebook in English so it took some time for me to adjust. I think that I interacted with the Spanish language more because I had to read all the instructions in Spanish like ¿Qué estás pensando? or escribe un comentario. Overall, it was a great learning experience for me and I think that I am going to continue using my Facebook in Spanish because there is still so much I can learn. I think that it is something that my classmates can also try.

​Well I also put my facebook in Spanish, and it may have been the most interesting thing I've ever done with my facebook. At some points it was fairly easy to understand but that may have been because I already know what things to click to get around like commenting on people's statuses or liking them. (Liking people's statuses may have been the best part about switching to Spanish) But then to view a video that someone posted on my wall, I could not figure out which button to click. Or on the new bar on the right side of the page where you can see what everyone's doing, it helped seeing certain Spanish words over and over again so that I could figure out what they mean.



Also when chatting people, I noticed that where it says the time the person sent their message, it wasn't like 1: 03 pm, but 13: 01. Which I found odd.

​I learned a lot from changing my Facebook language to spanish. I still knew where everything was, but since I did, I learned the spanish words!
is typing...- está escribiendo...
Update Status- Actualizar Estado
Like- Me Gusta
What's on your mind?- ¿Qué estás pendsando?
Messages- Mensajes


I also learned that a good way to get used to other languages is to live your life with them.

by Ryan Shaw

Facebook in spanish was interesting. I didn't find it challenging at all, because I'm use to navigating through Facebook in the format it's set up in, and a lot of the word were very familiar. The only thing that did get a little confusing was reading the dates of when statuses were posted. I commonly forget the order of the days of the week, so I had a little trouble. Other than that, it's enjoyable, and I think I'll stick with it. 

I loved me gustaing things, rather than liking them. 



For the sack of giggles, I decided I'd put my twitter in Spanish as well, which I also enjoy.

I read Srta. G's post that we can change our facebook language to Spanish for 24 hours and write a feedback about it. At first I didn't want to do it because I'm sure that I'm not going to understand what my facebook page is talking about. However, I thought what am I going to lose? 
Right when I changed the language, I went to my home page. Then I fell in love. I saw ME GUSTA. I shall never change my language back to english. 
To be honest though, I sometimes get lost because I need to think things through before clicking some buttons. I also learned new words because of what Facebook Spanish taught me. Overall, I like this activity. I learned new things just by being in facebook. Awesome sauce. ME GUSTA 

Our Image: 
http://dl.dropbox.com/u/2267701/Screen%20Shot%202011-09-22%20at%205.53.43%20PM.png

Beginning this project and looking the data the part that shocked me the most was the actual number of immigrants coming to United States. The numbers were extremely large. The unclear message  I believe was the decreases in certain decades and I wanted the answer as to why the number of immigrants fell. The visual aspect of the project that was assigned really made answer understandable. 

At this present moment United States are dealing with the economic crisis. It is unknown where this dilemma will lead to whether its another depression or a positive turn around. With that being said I think the decade 1990-2000 hit its peak the only next step is to decrease in the following years. 

My partner and I both decided we wanted to make our project visually unique. We both talked about different possible ideas. We went back and forth and together we had chosen the monopoly game board. We were very exciting about our idea and could not wait to see its turn out.

In agreement with my partner the most challenge part was graphing our data in a creative way. We tried to present our data in many different ways but none of them worked out in the way we wanted them to. So with limited time we made a bar graph with monopoly hotel pieces to represent the numbers. 

I would change nothing because we took a chance with this project. We did something never done or seen before.  I love our monopoly board game and proud of its outcome!

Fin de Semana Extra Credit Opportunity!

Change your Facebook language to Spanish for at least 24 hours. What did you learn? Post to your blog on SLATE. Include screenshots and/or video.

DUE MONDAY BY 8:15am

​Start: 09/24/2011 - 6:18 pm
I learned a words like:

• muro - wall
• publicó - published / posted
  buscar - search
  me gusta - like
  comentar - comment
  inicio - settings
• comentó - commented
  etc.

Also, the words on your notification bar are mostly past tense so they end with the past tense verb conjugation. The statuses are in English rather than Spanish. Also, most of the links and places to go on the left hand bar were easier to read or I memorized them from before the language change.

Example: My cousin tried to add me as one of her cousins and I tried to see the resemblance of the Spanish word Vs. the English word to get the the page and then there was a list of family members and I picked prima because she was my cousin.


Later: 

I get a lot of notifications through my phone and all of them were in Spanish and every time I got a text, I was shocked to see that it was in Spanish.

“We back here again!” The two sliding doors flew open. The lights were bright. People everywhere. I think to myself, “It must be my baby cousin with the bad case of the runs.” I call him Poo Poo Kazoo. Sounds coming from everywhere. Coughs, sneezes, ambulances, and babies crying. The smell was awful; it smelled like vomit, cafeteria food, and sick people. I stayed close to my aunt and my brother stayed close to me. We were walking like we were in a scary movie about to get murdered. My aunt asked, “Where is room 436?” to a man that looks like cookie monster. He had on a bright blue uniform on with a badge that said “Front Desk Security.” The guy said “4^th floor then a left.” We got on the elevator and went up, which seemed like forever. Finally the fourth floor. We went down this long hallway, the light got dimmer and dimmer. Then there was the room, room 436, the numbers made me nauseous and nervous. I was scared. There were old men with their hairy, wrinkly butts dangling out the back of dotted pajamas that looked like sheets. The door too room 436 was cracked. We walked into the dark room with a television playing, and the news was on at a very low volume. Then I slid back the blank white curtains and I couldn’t believe who it was.

 

I was eleven years old, being scared and nervous was occasional, but this point in time tiny red ants were running every where in my tummy more than usual. Sometimes strange things happen and time freezes. I either want to run away and dismiss it or face it. Being eleven I couldn’t face the issue that punched me right in my red ant filled tummy and quiet frankly I didn’t understand. Sickness is part of life, but a cold was the worst I ever got sick. I coughed, I sneezed, and my throat hurts. But never was I put in a hospital bed.

When I slid the curtains back and seen my Father, all the red ants fell out my butt. The horror in my eyes, as they burned before the lava fell from them, I was just so distraught. My mother sitting there, with a pale sick look on her face. She didn’t even say “Hi babies”, like everyday when we come from school. I studied my father like I had a test the next morning on a big black man in a bed. He had snakes shooting venom in his arms. Something breathing for him, and one half of his body moving and the other half practically dead. As I stood back for a while, I felt like a sponge; I was absorbing all that just happened. But I got the courage to walk, to the man I didn’t even notice. I slowly grabbed his hand; my hand was shaking it has never done that before. His hand was rough and fragile, his eyes popped open, and I whispered, “Dad why did you have a stroke?”

Being 15 now, I understand seeing someone you love at a young age on the edge of life or death is difficult. So many questions that need to be asked but at that point in time, you cant even regurgitate the questions you would like to ask. This day I grew up and moments like this in life you don’t want to take it for granted. I looked at life in a whole different view, because someone can be gone today or tomorrow and not saying I love you can hold on to you forever. Being 11 I got a clearer understand of death and what causes death, but honestly we are born to die.

 A gentle tear trickled down my face as I said “I would do anything you ask, are you in here because I spilled all of your cologne?” He grabbed my hand tight, tight enough to lose circulation and chuckled.

He kissed me and said, “I love you young lady, and no matter what happens life changes.”

“I love you too dad”, and I let go of the sand paper hand and left room 436.

 

​Juan Rivera                                                       9-20-11

Lesson Learned From Others Actions

Nobody picked up the phone that day, but luckily he left us a message.

“ Hey pop, umm… Well I am in trouble at this moment, I am locked up in North Carolina because the State Police stopped my car on the highway and they found 5 pounds of drugs, umm… when you get this message can you please try to contact me, because I need someone to bail me out.”

I was in the dining room when my mom checked the message. Afterwards, she knew what we had to do.

“Go to “Tito” he has the $200,000 to get me out, okay well I have to go. Love you guys hope to hear from you soon. ”

My mother’s reaction wasn’t so big because my brother wasn’t really her blood son; he was a son in law to her so it didn’t really affect her as much as it did my dad. My dad wasn’t so happy but wasn’t surprised at the same time, because this wasn’t the first time my brother got locked out for this same reason.

So since my dad wasn’t caring much about the situation my mother, sister and I had to do what was right, which was to get it back home. My Mother contacted my sister Glori. She was stunned by the news and told us she would be at our house in 5 min. So she had to travel from her job and come and save her brother from what had happened. This news had just affected everyone. There were people crying and sad, but I tried to be the strong one and keep my composure.

On our way to the Mail Place, I would look back to the days I had with my brother. I would look at the days we spent together, when we were all happy. The days where he would take me places even if it were little rides around the neighborhood, or to the movies, or the mall. I also thought back of the family dinner we used to have and the moments where him and me were the party people in the family. They were good moments for me and I had enjoyed every minute I could have because I knew that wonderful moments don’t last forever.

As we got to the Mail Place, there was a sign saying that the store would be closed in a manner of minutes. So this puzzled us as we were waiting for Tito to get there with the money. But luckily the lady that was in charge that day had to go use the bathroom, so that bought us a lot of time to get the money. Next thing we noticed was Tito and his friend walking into the Store and handing us an envelope with all the money in it.

From this moment that I had with my brother, even though it never happened to me and I never got into this kind of mess, I know what type of life it is, and I make a promise to not only my parents but to myself that I will always do better than he did. I am going to make my life a better place not only for me, but also for my family to come and for my friends. And hopefully my dreams would come true and I can help other families around the world with problems and that need help.

Ever had one of those moments in life when you decide to do something, but never look back and think of the consequences? If your answer is no, well your not the only one. I have never had a moment like this, but in life as you go, you experience things you would never see coming. A lot of people in this world make bad decisions, no matter what age you are. Adults probably make more mistakes than us; they just know how to deal with it. Well the adults that go through it, some might not know how exactly to deal with it so they get stuck in problems and things that only do them bad not good.

Being that the only person I know who does bad is my brother it makes me think and realize that just because he didn’t make any good choices doesn’t mean I cant do different.

Joseph tartaglia

 

“Oh, wanna go to South Street?”

 

“Naw, that’s not a good idea. We do that all the time.”

 

I was walking down the street with my friends, all of us board.

 

All of the sudden I had a bright Idea.

 

“Hey there’s a ware house on front and Washington we should go and explore it and see what’s up.”

 

My friends give me a weird face

 

Alex responded with “I don’t know man, it don’t seem like a good idea”

 

I responded to “Come on guys we should go do this it might be gone someday and we

will never get a chance, come on we only live once.”

 

Alex agreed “your right we do only have one life to live let take it to the limit”

We headed down to the warehouse to see that the door and windows where covered with wood panels so we tried to pull the off but it was no use. So we went home and decided to try tomorrow. We went back and tried again and we knocked the board down, and walked up the stairs, but all there was up there, was a broken window, and open walls that were broken down.

 

“Wanna go to the basement?” Moe asked

“Sure, up here is boring me.” I said

 

we made our way to the basement and found ourselves a set of stairs that lead to another basement that had a twisty staircase that went to the basement, and had no lights that lead us down so we decided to get fireworks, and a flashlight at the corner store. To buy such things and it got too dark out so we decided to do it next weekend because we had school the next day and it wasn’t worth getting in trouble over skipping school, so we were talking in school all week about what we thought was in the basement

“yo, dude if there is a dead body I’ma jet outta there” said Moe

“moe you can’t run if there was a Twinkie across the street” replied Alex

we couldn’t wait any long we decided to skip school on Wednesday and went to the ware house we where all nervous about if the teacher would find out or if we get caught, and get arrested 1000 things was going through my head and I couldn’t think straight and I was getting to the point of just not going into the basement at all I was at the erg of giving up and going to school, but I went through with going into the warehouse. Even though they won’t admit it my friends were as nervous as me.

we made our way to the basement and there was a man with a 2 by 4 ready to hit us with it, so we ran and right before we ran out the door i stepped on a nail

​Aaron VanBuren                                                                                       9/23/11                                   

               But this wasn’t the first time.

 

I never felt hurt over the way I looked. But one day, getting lost on the way home was a rude awakening to a problem that is still around. It was the first or second month of high school and I was still new to the route leaving to go to school and coming home from school. I got on the wrong bus, the 26 instead of the 20 and I got nervous with butterflies in my stomach and eyes tearing up, for no reason, so I didn’t ask the bus drive if this is the right route to take to get to Buslten and Comly. Calling my mom, worried, lost of course, but not scared, I started to walk in the direction of my house and needed a little help to exactly find the street I was on, I was ignorant to the fact that I have never seen such a beautiful place to live. I saw a lady who seemed quite friendly so I asked her “Can you direct me to Buslten?” and she ran from me. The thoughts that ran through my head, A BIG BLACK KID with a school bag, manners, and who was about 10 feet away walking towards her, what made her run?

 

But this wasn’t the first time.

 

            Living in Philadelphia you meet a variety of diverse Philadelphians but also a variety of diverse tourist. They may hear different things about African Americans who live here and assume they all act out in a way of violence. When they see me they look scared and ready to jump out of their shadows and run away. Don’t get me wrong there are some non-races diverse human beings. For example, most of my teachers have been and will be more Caucasians than any other race. I have had roughly less than 10 teachers of my own race. The reason I think that is because a lot of us dream about progressing out by playing basketball, football, rapping and singing. Even thought some progress out of Philadelphia with basketball, football, rapping and singing. Yes, some make it but the ratio for one person making it is One in a Million. Basketball, football, rapping and singing are much harder jobs then any nine to five job.

 

One saying I like to use is “Don’t judge a book by its cover”. The meaning of this phrase is don’t assume that you won’t like a person because of the way they look. Racism dates back to the Africans being enslaved, The Holocaust and other events in history. People like Martin Luther King Junior, Rosa parks, Malcolm X, President John F. Kennedy. They fought for us to be able to live without fear. They marched for freedom and three of the leaders I mentioned were shot dead because of the movement behind one person’s thought. To me, racism is the ignorant judgments by one person taught to another.

 

I walk into stores and am profiled because I am a young African American male. To some people I am intimidating because I am big for my age, well, weight wise and height wise not so much. I try to fit into different crowds of people because when I get older I want to become a government agent, so I might have to go undercover. I’m not as affected as much as I would a long time ago. But I still feel some type of way.

 

I know that I will always be profiled or be expected another type of racism. I wish that we as human beings could see ourselves as one race. If that ever happen all the great leaders who fought for us all to be equal will turn over in their graves and rejoice. This world will never be perfect so I will live day by day and learn from the lessons taught to me in everyday life. First Lesson Racism Is Still Part Of Every Day Life! But this won’t be the last time.

 

 

           

            

Sidney Williamson

Ms. Pahomov

English 2- Band

9/18/11

 

“Hahaha” They laughed.

 

…..This was normal, the usual, nothing special.

It’s more or less become a routine. I sit down and take my seat.

 

I sit there, looking over all of them, six "happy" faces.

They all sat there, each one defeated at one time or another; I'd seen it all happen. Arthur and Quentin, sitting there laughing at his ever rude and unforgivably offensive jokes...Worshiping him in a sense. As if he'd given them all life again. What I never understood was, how these boys, who deemed themselves so strong and tough, never stood up to him…

 

 I sat next to my supposed best friends.

 

 It was like...watching the Titanic sink. The cold ocean water engulfing the large ship and anything it could take with it, That’s how it was. Anything he could take, he would. We all knew it was fake. He knew it was fake, but then again did he?

 

I sat there in my seat, wondering what kind of joy this brought to him. I looked him up and down. I knew why they all acted as if they hated me, it was his fault. He never liked me, he noticed when I looked at him and his followers in disgust, and that was when he attacked, the jokes about my clothes, my hair, anything that he thought would hurt me emotionally he did.

 

 I sat there, no real friends, just me, myself and my pride.

 

It wasn’t like this had all happened out of the blue though, I knew why he hated me, we all did. Everyone had heard the story, different versions, but it to him, we all had to deal with his over inflated ego, and I guess I just got

tired of it. It wasn’t even me who he was attacking, when I did it, it was my friend. He was being mean to her, not because she had done something to him, because he could. I just guess I just got fed up. After that he never really “attacked” me per say again, he’d hit me several times before, even though he “didn’t hit girls”. I guess I just hadn’t counted at those times.

 

I had a really hard time in the last few years of Middle School, and it was primarily because I was myself, instead of being someone that someone else wanted me to be. 7^th grade was the first time I told a guy I liked him, and he was probably one of the best guy friends I ever had, but I was just really embarrassed when he said no. I hadn’t wanted to tell him in the first place…but my friends got my hopes up so high, that that was all there was

 

really nothing else left to do. After that I sort of fell into a…black hole per say. I just started ignoring everyone, and having a hard time being happy.

My “best friend” started flirting with the guy I liked, and I was eventually diagnosed with Clinical Depression.

 

I don’t think I have it as bad these days, but I get weeks where I will be suicidal or just hate everyone and my life, and I’m just overall unhappy the majority of the time…But if I had to do it all over again, I wouldn’t change a thing, because everyone goes through struggles in their life, but I think the tough things are what make us who we are. If life was easy, and everything was handed to you, it wouldn’t be any fun.

 

 

So In 8^th grade, it wasn’t too bad in the beginning, but being separated from my class for half of the last year, you do start to notice things, because your more an observer than anything else. Oh and did I notice things…my eighth

 

grade class was a dictatorship, no question about it. You were not to stand out, you were to be exactly as normal as possible and if you weren’t you

were not accepted. I was the weird one. I always have been, and I most likely always will be, I don’t mind though. I actually have learned to embrace

it in the last few years between 8^th grade and now. I think I’m absolutely as crazy and complicated as I need to be right now, because if I were meant to be “normal” I would be. 

                                                              Costa Rica

 

I felt the water rushing beneath our yellow raft as it bounced from rock to rock like a pinball hit by a devoted player. These were just one of the activities plan for my eighth grade trip to Costa Rica. This was my event and I loved it. First of all the day was “perfect,” after depleting my host house supply of corn flakes (The real breakfast of champions) our class” piled into an old van and headed of for the rapids.  I was the front paddle a position reserved for the strongest. I got to lead my crew threw the nooks and crannies the river. However the home trip would lead to me catching man’s greatest enemy the common cold.  Most kids see a cold as a neat way to get out of school and watch TV, but I see a cold as a day or two of my life wasted. Our school had fundraised for this event all year. We sold tacos, beans and rice, salads, pies, and other popular food every Wednesday. We got people to sponsor us. We started a small coffee Business. We even host a fundraising event with food prizes and a live band. SO I BE DAMMED IF I MISS A SINGLE DAY ON THIS TRIP! This was my mindset when a got a headache coming back from rafting.

 

 

Maybe I overreacted when I yelled at my fellow students

 

Or when I made my teacher cry

 

But, venting anger on others means I won’t go mad

When lying in bed with a temp of 105

 

Now I rarely get sick but when I do get sick it is usually takes me 3 to 4 days to recover, then a few more days to get back to myself. I always show the same signs when I get sick a continuous cough or/and sneeze, watery eyes and goose bumps. So when I developed a cough with goose bumps going up and down my arms. I knew I was sick, but I denied my classmates questions of  “are you ok” “ you don’t look good” with “I’m fine” for I although being a smart person convicted my self that if I did not act like I was sick, I would not be. But I was, for when going to one of our tour guides house I had to use the toilet to throw up in spite of my good acting of being well.

 

I had to be driven back to my host family’s house. They gave me Tylenol and sent me to bed. That night I tossed and turned in my bed when it hit me I had not taken off my shirt from the rafting trip; it was still damp from the river water. My body was not used to the water of Costa Rica (that’s why you don’t drink water form other countries)

 

Looking Back I could have acted better but I am me and I can’t always do every thing for other I learn how I react to when thing don’t go as plan and how to deal with it. I saw people who were try to help me as holding me back. I don’t like working with others always but some time I have to let someone help me.                     

 

 

 

                  

“The day, I saw the light” by Aidan Rios

 

-Sigh- I remember this day as if it happed yesterday. I was minding my own business just walking along the shoreline. I was wearing my amazing black swimming shorts and showing off my mike Tyson body. My abs were rock hard and my mussels had veins popping out. Like, I was Rambo for no reason.

 

I was checking everyone out on the beach and laughing at fat old heads that were laying on the beaching thinking they had a body like me. I turned and I stopped to look over at the horizon and the birds or seagulls if flying and the laughter of children and people enjoying their lives. I decided to be like David Husaloff and just run into the water and do a swin dive like that guy off the old spice commercial.

 

So I did and I thought that I was swimming when I was just really on all fours doing a doggie paddle. Then as the water current pulled me into the dark blue abyss and tried to swallow me. I began to fight for my life fight for my last breath to live another day to see the beautiful clear and blue sky and just to see my family again. I felt like I was going to die and breath my last breath.

 

I push and push as hard as I could, but my Rambo body was just no match for the water. I began to scream at the top of my lungs for help. I didn’t know if I was going to make it, I felt like this was it, I began to think about life as I slowly drifted away. I closed my eyes just to have a painless death. That’s when three lifeguards came to my aid and pulled me out of this oblivion of water.

 

My body was in shocked it felt like I just escaped the hands of death and the sisters of fate could not hold me. I laid there on the warm sand and looked up at all the people that were looking down at me. I felt like I was brought back to life or out of enemy fire. I laid there until the lifeguard ever so kindly helped me up and walked me over to the shade and offer me some water. I told him “why would I want water after it tried to kill me my good man but thank you.” He took the bottle and walked away as he said, “Don’t mention it.”

 

After that acident I swore never to lay foot on a beach again but the day after that I was they’re again lying on the sand looking out at the ocean. I began to think about my life, what was ahead of me, so much to do I just can’t die, not yet. I still need to do so much things like make a family, meet the woman of my dreams and be at my sons wedding all that was almost lost cause I would have died in that water. I almost created a time paradox in my life and my impacts on the world to come.

 

I stood and began to slowly walk over to the line that divided the sand and the water and began to breathe. I slowly walked in and that’s when my brother grasped my hand and pulled me back.

“No, what are you thinking?” he asked me.

I turned and looked at him. “What other choice do I have!”?

He sighs and walked away. I turn back to the view of the horizon and just took a seat in the water as millions of thoughts ran through my mind. Like, if those two heroes would have never have saved me or if I would have got stuck on something under water that could’ve been the end for me and I would have lost everything that I worked and earn so hard to get and I would have died at age 16 and lost everything that were to come in my life. Also, my family how would they have token my death? Im the most realiable person that they can depend upon and my friends. Who would be there to help them in need or when they would need back up or just jokes from Aidan I wouldn’t have been there. I though of everything in that one moment. Things that I never came across in my life. Just goes to show “you never know what you have until you almost lose it. Well, trust me, I though that tragic moment and I wont be taking advantage over it again, I will make my life the most of it.

 

 

 

So, ever since that tragic day, I have been a bit more careful about my actions and what I do and how I do because every day you come in face with a new obstacle that can easily take your life and that would be the end. Im not saying to be paranoid every second of the day but to just take caution about the actions that you do. You should leave the thoughts of everything that you have still to come till you’re at the brick of life. Take consideration into your life and show everything or everyone that you love that you care dearly about them because you can lose them just like that.

 

 

So I learn a lot of life lessons since that day and I know never to try to do something that you know you can do or have absolutely no change of doing. I tried to swim even though I didn’t know how to and I was in the ocean that could have easily swallowed me. So, you can learn a lot of life lessons in life just make sure not to wait till your at that brick of death and living. I have enjoyed re writing about this awful life stage.

 

 

                                                                                                        To be continued…

 

Aidan Rios

​                                                My Personal Essay

 

I remember the days when I was like 4 years old  running around jumping all over the place with not at a care in the world. That is until I got older  and I noticed things starting to change, going to this weird place my mom called school’ go on a yellow bus with people I hade never seen in my life. Life before I started pre k was fun back then.

 

I got into that place and there was this lady that the other kids called teacher. Me not knowing anything I would just copy everything the other kids did just to fit in.

I noticed that kids were in different classes but not just in one big room. After that I went to a place where they had lots of tables for the kids to sit and eat. I was unsure where to sit  their was some many kids. I just decided to sit at the table with the least people. I noticed that the things I like  most kids though was baby stuff. I remember that one time when I was in class I said that Elmo was my favorite TV show. The whole class started to laugh at me. I did not  know  until I noticed that they weren’t laughing with me but at me. I ran home crying, wondering  why. My older bro  "said if ya wanted people to respect you got to know what’s cool and what’s not.” I took his advice and it turns out he was right. You can't be yourself sometimes it depends on who you are.

 

 

But After going up grade-by-grade I stared to understand things a lot better. I thought we went to school because kids annoy their parents to much The things the teacher was teaching us were to help us in the real world.

 

Going to SLA - after leaving   middle school I decide go to SLA why because I read most of the things posted on the website and snag my attention. I would have to say SLA was different then other schools. The reason I think this is because in SLA I feel like I can just be me and that just that. But their are still people who act but in only a little amount of people who do that. The way the school is setup is that as long as you show that you are trying you pass with b-c ok. At first I did not understand things that worked around the school like how printers are all around the school, that was the first time I ever had to do something. It was kind of nervous when the printed didn’t work I was too scared to ask so I just walked away. Moddle is another example of how things change for me when I stared to go to sla. I never ever hand to turn work on a website. It was the hardest thing I had ever done.

 

 

 Sometimes it would stop working in the middle of work. Then I say to my teacher it didn’t work all she would say is do it on word next time. Other then that SLA is the best ive been in so far and I look forward to the next years with my friends,

Tyler Creighton

Life learned lesson about the world

 

Don’t regret it

 

“Tyler you have an early dismissal”

I wonder why I’m leaving early with out no reason?

Where am I going, what’s going on, is this bad or good?

All I see is rooms, no color, just white.

White walls, white tiles, white lights, and grey people.

Everything looks sick, I walk with my head hanging so low my chin feels like it’s burning from scraping the floor. Sounds all around talking, wheezing, sneezing coughing, laughing, crying, screaming, ambulances, and me. Smells wavier around my nose as I cough because of this deadly awful smell’s. I looked up at my father with swollen tears in my eyes, waiting to burst. “You know why were here right”.” No” I said waiting for some bad news.” Fallow me to room 603”. We arrive at the room and all I see is one room at the end of this everlasting hall. The door was slightly cracked. When I opened the door, all I could see was a sheet that had no color all white and three grey people. I pulled back the sheet and I saw was.

 

Those swollen tears slowly burst and began running down my cheeks releasing a roar of mixed emotions. All I could see was my mother lying there. My heart shriveled in a tiny little ball and demolished. Her face pale, her hair bland, and her body weak.

 

I always new something was wrong but didn’t bother to ask. Always-another bottle full of pills in the medicine cabinet.” Mom what this for” Oh nothing just ignore it”, is always how that went. 1 to 2, 2 to 3, 3 to 4, and eventually 7.Sevens way to many to just ignore.

 I want to know what’s going on, so I begin to research what are these what are they are for? Nothing. Eventually I gave up.

 

 

Morning drives to the doctor’s office. Long waits in the waiting rooms. Papers prescriptions and worry. I’m still lost, wondering what are all these things for, why was doing this. This life isn’t our normal life. No one seems happy. The floors in our home seem cold, the air feels hot, and nothing is comfortable, as if the house is trying to tell me something, as if the house just wants to wants to open its vents as a mouth and tell me there’s something going on. Why is everything so different? The cat won’t sleep in my parent’s bed. He’s awake all day by my mother’s side like a miniature guard dog waiting for something to go wrong.

 

A few weeks go by and everything is fine. Until June 19th everything was going wrong. From the morning to that visit. As soon as I walked out the house that morning I knew it wasn’t my day. It all started at 8:00am. My hair wasn’t working and my curls fell, 9:00am I was rushing trying to finish homework, 10:00’o clock, I found out that I got an F on a test, and just told my mother I was sorry for everything I said that very morning while I was acting like a brat. Things were running through my mind that I very much regretted. And I just didn’t know how to take these things back.

 

But by time I figured I needed to fix these things, it was too late. And there I am shoulders slump; chin hanging, with my lips so low they look like I had weights attached to them. But I know from being there and seeing that I learned something. This is something I call a life lesson.

 

Life is too short for regrets. So don’t do anything you might regret because something or someone could be there and then there not. After experiencing this I have looked at the world in a totally different way. I don’t have many attitudes anymore because I felt like crap after doing that to my mother and many other people. Life is like a speeding car it goes by so fast by time you look to see the license plate that car is gone. I will never forget this. This was a warning, but next time I’ll catch that speeding license plate before its too late.

Shannon Powers

   I saw the tall blonde girl coming my way, I could tell just by looking at her that it was a dye job. Here were way to many of those, and a natural blonde like me was out numbered. I expected nothing more then a simple 'what are you doing?' or a 'hi bitch'.  Instead I got something different more pushy then insulting, it was that line that said; 'give me that because I'm older and I own the school yard.'

 

  I should have expected no less from an 8^th grader at Sharswood Elementary. Our schoolyard as always was loud with the screaming of younger girls. The older girls were gossiping all over the place. I had picked a place where no one was the painted square called the quiet area, it was nearest the tree and shade in the hot schoolyard.  I always avoided the other girls, I was always a target of awful names.

 

  "No I got the hula hoop first and just because you tell me to doesn't mean I'll hand it over," I said. I may have been just a 4th grader telling off an 8th grader but I was getting tired of the bullying. The girl looked at me like I was something awful she had stepped in with her brand new designer shoes. Obviously I was the first one to say that and she didn’t like it.

 

  Behind the girl were some of her friends, all of them were bigger then me. I suddenly got the cold feeling of someone with ice down their back. I realized that this wasn't the end of the conversation. The school watch ladies yelled that it was time to go in..... Saved by the yell... I thought thankfully. 

 

  This was just another bullying case in a long line of it.  This went on for years, sometimes with the same bully for years. I dealt with it, think like poker I would say, ‘ Just gotta deal with the hand you’ve got, wait till next round maybe it’ll change’. It never did. As I got older things only got worse. On one occasion, I had been late getting to line and my class went in. Walking by people always made me nervous (it still does). You never know when someone’s going to call you names that just shouldn’t be used anywhere.

 

 I had been right to be nervous. When I saw the tall girl with blonde hair (Another one?)  I thought Well hey she’s just gonna walk by you don’t flip… Then the girl started to get closer and I thought it was clear in her posture she was going to ram her shoulder in to mine. I was in for a lousy surprise when her fist made contact with my left arm. 

 

  I was too in shock from the sudden unprovoked violence to do or say anything back. I just kept on walking and when I got to class I told my teacher who sent me to the office. I sat on the polished wooden bench listening to the phone conversations and getting glares from the two receptionists. I’m not sure if the color of the office was made to be friendly or warm but it was neither. When I walked in to the principal’s small office I was hoping for some help instead I got something totally unexpected.

 

 “Well why weren’t you in line?” She asked in a voice that said ‘ I couldn’t care less’ or ‘ I’m just here until something better comes along’.

 

 “I wasn’t feeling well so I walked a bit slower and my class went in.” I said warily. She always made me feel worse coming to her. She always blamed me for my misfortunes, like I was always the cause.

 

 “Well I’m sorry but I can’t help you. Since you weren’t in line there’s nothing I can do.” And with that she sent me off to class. I was beginning to think that, even though they tell you to come and tell them if someone is bullying you, they didn’t really care. Life went on I got bullied more and more. In 7^th grade I stood up for my self, even then it didn’t stop though. I’ll never forget the one thing that has been bugging me since it happened.

  

 I was in 8^th grade and we were all lined up ready for math class the teacher opening the door. I was talking to someone. Just a random conversation continuing from out side when Harry McDowell opened his mouth. Harry was a tall boy with dark blonde hair. To me he wasn’t all that cute and from what I heard no one else thought he was.

 

 “Why don’t you just shoot your self Shannon?” he asked in that ‘I just want to make you cry cuz I’m an asshole” kind of voice.

 

 I didn’t answer. I turned my back on Harry and shut everyone else out, staring through the window in the door. It was such an odd coincidence that I had thought that very same thing sometime before. Why don’t I just shoot my self? I asked again in my head answering in a voice that sounded both sad and confidant at the same time:  because I’m an Aunt now, I love my parents and my sister, and killing my self would hurt them. Kill my self? Hell to the No! I learned that even if you do fight back physically there is nothing I can do when they hit you with a mental racking ball.