It's Your Lucky Day! New March Writers Are Here!

Remember to read all of the selections for this month --   comments are for this latest group only (no earlier months/submissions, or last year's submissions)

Remember:
All Students:  Be sure to read the entries for this group  (March).  Everyone is required to comment on at least three different pieces of writing.  You must post the comment here on the blog (below the post is the "comments" link to click) AND cut and paste your comments, complete with dates and times, on to a Word document and turn it in to me by March 31.  You must do both to get credit for comments this month.

Remember, comments must be positive, supportive, constructive, and SPECIFIC.  No "Good Job!" comments, unless you follow that with specific things you thought were done well in the piece.  Show them you actually took the time to read and enjoy their work!

"How to Make Nacatamales" by Samantha B

Most everyone has had tamales, but very few can say they have tried the Nicaraguan take on it
called nacatamales. Nacatamales may be a bit hard to find, even in Nicaraguan restaurants, but
with this recipe you will not need to search for them, you can make it yourself! Nacatamales are
something I grew up helping my grandma make in the kitchen after school; the taste and smell
remind me of family and my youth. Making nacatamales may not give you a sense of nostalgia
as it does me, but they may be something you enjoy and continue to make in the future.

To begin, you need to know what's on the inside:

6 ounces pork, cut up
2 ½ Ibs pork ribs without the bone
2 grated sliced tomatoes
1 cup of white onions, diced
1 chopped green bell pepper
5 full garlic cloves
1/2 cup of orange juice
Salt- to your heart’s content
1 teaspoon black pepper

Cook necessary items separately, then mix together.

What's on the outside:
2 lbs corn flour
2 ½ cups lukewarm water
¼ cup of orange juice
3 cups pork lard

Mix together in a pot until you reach a mushy consistency- something a bit thicker than mashed
potatoes

The most important ingredients:
9 ounces of rice
2 diced potatoes
4 sliced tomatoes
1 white onion, sliced
12 mint leaves
1/2 cup green olives
1/2 cup prunes
1/2 cup raisins
1/4 cup red and green habanero peppers

To assemble:
2-3 rolls of smoked or boiled banana leaves
Twine, to tie up the nacatamales
Next boil your nacatamales so that the ingredients mesh together.

If you have any experience making tamales, nacatamales will not be too difficult to figure out. If
you do experience difficulties while making them, there are plenty of instructional videos which
can also help guide you. Once your nacatamales are done you can freeze the extras and simply
boil them again when you are ready to eat more. Enjoy!

"Dear Diary" by Maria D

March 19, 2015

Dear Diary,
Today I feel connected. Some days I feel intuitive, like I can feel every raging emotion in
someone with one touch, some days I feel mindful, like I can hear every sound around me and
sometimes even the beat of my heart pumping blood throughout my body, and other days I feel
lost, like in a black ocean that never sees the light. But today, I feel connected. For some reason I
have this odd feeling that everything and everyone around me has some sort of connection with
one another that leads back to one place. A place that is me. I not only feel connected to
everyone around me but the ground too … the Earth. I think it is God’s way of telling me
something, because He knows I will listen if he talks to me through the world around me,
because He knows it’s the way I speak and feel. It’s like the Earth is trying to say something to
me, show me something. There is this girl in my class that I barely know but I have talked to her
once or twice, most likely about homework or something that I didn’t catch in class. She was the
first person that I thought of this morning and I have this strong urge inside my chest. It feels like
I need to tell her something but I don’t know what it is that I have to say. I don’t even know her.
I don’t know … it’s like I need to give her advice or tell her something that she will need in the
future. Tell her something and then many years later she will think of that something and it will
make her think of me, bringing her this sense of awareness or something. Last night I had a
dream that I was on top of this canyon. The sky had hints of red and orange and I felt the wind
brushing through my hair at one moment and the in the next moment, I found myself at the
bottom of the canyon. I was not afraid. Beside me was a stream carrying small dandelions to the
other side of the canyon. And then I woke up. I thought of that girl and right now, 8:13 p.m., I’m
writing about it all. I guess I don’t know how to end this because I’m a disconnected connected
person. But I feel like I need to write this down because I have this feeling that I will understand
what it means one day in the future. I feel like one day, all of us will start to piece together our
lives and our subconscious mind will reveal connections we never recognized because our
connections weren’t fully complete just yet. We will understand why we had that urge to talk to
someone we did not even know. We will understand why we had that dream the night before we
had that urge to talk to that someone. We will understand why we took that trip in the summer of
2013 to that field of flowers and picked that one specific flower in that one specific place. We
will understand why that lit candle at the top of the bookshelf fell over and spilled the red, apple
spice wax all over the carpet. And we will understand that every little thing that happens to us
and around us is connected. It is connected to us. It will reveal to us that what we once thought
was not reality was reality.

"Homecoming" by Louis S

On the stone steps of Machu Picchu, Peru, the horizon is skewed by towering ranges and the silence is absolute save for the occasional blow of an ever so gentle wind. The ground I stand on is that of my people, molded by the blood and sweat that now runs through me and yet, as I awe at the view, the pride of shared ownership couldn't be fainter. I’ve only been to Peru three times in my entire life, and this was the first time I was conscious enough to fully retain my memories of being there.

As I peer at the mountains that surround on all sides, I almost gain a sense of revelation, as if the peaks themselves have cornered me in to answer the questions I’ve unknowingly been seeking the answers to all my life. Even though proficiency in academic excellence has always been my associated definitive trait in my family, the irony is that I would all too often feel that the comfort of a certain knowledge escaped me, beyond all the books and the principles and the facts that behind their words ceaselessly yell at you “this is what you are going to need to survive, succeed and shape your own path in the world out there.” I was born in the United States, where any promise of cultural adherence can never find absolute fulfillment: Spanish-speaking households are absorbed by the tide of English conversation, arroz chaufa on weekdays is reduced to an occasional specialty, and traditional items of culture are shelved and shunned as distant reminders of our backgrounds. I’ve never really been fazed by that fact; I would always just press on, completing school, achieving to the best of my ability, and learning to brush off the all-too familiar “aren’t you Mexican?” from a stranger’s first glance with a composed response of where I’m truly from. That is why I found it easy to relate myself to running when I joined the cross country team in high school: the sport demands persistence, allowing little to no room for natural-born skill, and though monotonous in its labor at times, with each thud of your feet you can reflect on your decisions and calculate your next move, all while striding on forward to the next obstacle. The Incas were the same, erecting agricultural storages and astronomical studies buildings with a speed and engineering genius that baffles experts to this day, and although not the same particular type of work, it had to be completed on challenging terrain under unfavorable circumstances, and this is a condition I believe transcends across generations of people with my background. Nowhere does this concept reveal itself more than in the circumstances which even allowed me to reside in the states. My mother and father both came to America illegally, having to learn English and find jobs to support themselves and eventually me along with my two brothers. My father died when I was only two, and when you lose one of the main supporting members of a family, you learn the meaning of scarcity and appreciation for the things you have; for the hand you’ve been dealt. You learn not to ask for much, and though the opportunities before you have been limited, the desire to succeed past your shortcomings remains unimpeded, if not only impelled. This is importantly so, for we exist in a world where all things, whether it may be as simple as a gesture of gratitude or as complex as a confession of pent-up sentiments, are all too fleeting. It is easier than ever to lose yourself in the transience of something you desire in one moment and dismiss the very next, and thus in this process we gradually lose the essential components to our identity. This of course is not to discount the fact that we are a product of the people and experiences that surround us, for there is irreplaceable value in what you take away from the words or generosity of another; yet, as the seeds for a generational legacy we wish to cultivate, the true yield of our endeavors lies in the personal grounds of which we choose to root ourselves to. I found my anchor on that day, as I stared at mountains that were looked at hundreds of years ago with a defiant glare and conquered. I see now that who I am is someone who refuses to absorb the beauty of other cultures and simultaneously forget the value of my own; I won’t settle for having the identity that others of my background share be marginalized or belittled, and as I progress in my education I aim to ensure that the following generations may feel the same way. I realize now that though my future is not clearly outlined for me, it is nonetheless there, and I built the self-discipline and skills I need to take it. All that is left is for me to make it my own.

Back on Machu Picchu, I take in the view, and I am reinvigorated. Taking one last look around me, I break into a run up the dizzying stone steps, an unyielding confidence I had not felt before filling my lungs.

"So Few of Us Left" by Stephany S

     As much as humanity has been the poster child of on being intolerant to those of all
backgrounds despite the countless civil rights movements and protests that called for an end to
injustice, it has found a new group to hate and blame for all the world’s problems. This time, the
argument was targeted towards a generation of genetic abnormalities that granted random
people abilities beyond the human spectrum, ranging from the control of various elemental
forms to telepathy. When news spread of my minority’s existence, we were not seen for our
potential to contribute to mankind’s progress, but as freaks of nature and God’s mistakes.
Despite most of the superhuman community aspiring to coexist with humans and trying to play
“normal”, humanity just didn’t want anything to do with us out of fear that they can be
overpowered. The government didn’t help either, subtly promoting the unity of all humans to
combat this genetic anomaly as a silent but imminent threat, referring to us as something other
than human. Suddenly, social divides such as sexism, racism, and homophobia to fight the
nonexistent threat that is the superhuman minority. The military obtained new orders to combat
any and all superhumans regardless of intentions, and corral them into institutions they claimed
would teach them to use their powers safely, but in reality had a questionable agenda.
Once my telepathic powers manifested at age 12, my parents urged me to never use my
ability in public and keep my genetic status secret. In a way, it hurt to have to hide who I was,
and despite there existing a radical group of superhumans who prided themselves on being
superhuman, their methods were inhumane. So, day by day I lived my life, lying to everyone I
knew and fearing the practically inevitable day that I would be exposed for what I am. I
remember one night seeing on the news, two young siblings were hanged on a swing set, with
signs reading “demon” around their necks. It made me realize that some higher power in the
universe allowed crimes like that to happen, constantly punishing us for ever being born.
Eventually, such acts of local terrorism became a normal occurrence, and my fear grew numb.
That fear was awoken on one night in June, when all of a sudden a religious group called the
Crusaders executed their plan to damage mutantkind. Famously superhuman-majority cities
were leveled in the matter of minutes, and all at the exact same time at midnight, to prevent any
first-responder help aiding those who managed to survive. They even went so far as to target
someone with the power to create nuclear explosions, forcing him to detonate himself one last
time. It’s now 2 days later, and Crusader rallies have not stopped, as they march on the ruins of
cities worldwide to desecrate the memory of those murdered. I can’t help but feel useless,
because being a survivor means someone out there has something in store for me, but the way
I survived was like a coward does. I was never in any risk in the first place. Being a telepath
places even more responsibility on my shoulders, because ever since 2 days ago I haven’t
stopped hearing cries for help, others suicidal thoughts, from those I never would’ve guessed
were like me. There are rumors of a facility in the northeast where survivors are urged to go, to
be accounted for and protected by the few normal people who wish to see the conflict end.
Maybe I’ll go. Maybe I won’t. But either way there’s so few of us left to spend our energy and
security seeking revenge, because at this point in my life revenge means extinction.

"Let Go" by Sophia J

     As we are nearing the end of our senior year, I am remembering the times where we all felt
insane amounts of stress. At this point, we can look back and be relieved that those times are
over, but I remember the feelings of anxiety that would flood through my body anytime I got a
new AP score or when I started filling out college applications. I remember one day in particular.
It was the day the AP test scores would be sent out to everyone. I was up extra early that day
talking to my boyfriend Vivek on the phone at 6am about my AP scores, going to college, and
overall just what the future holds. Vivek was trying to assure me that everything was going to be
okay and to just stay positive, but all I wanted to hear were my scores. Eventually they came in
and mine turned out to be the lowest out of my entire bio class. I sat and cried for a while until I
actually looked at the situation. Ever since I was a freshman, all I wanted was to get a great
GPA, get accepted into a top school, and be successful. The only things on my mind were to get
a great SAT score and high grades in all my honors and AP classes, but all I had done was drag
myself into a deep hole and I spent my entire junior year depressed. I set very unrealistic
expectations for myself and when I didn’t achieve them, I became upset and let my emotions
get the best of me. There are times in life where you may not fulfill the goals you set for yourself
but the way you handle it determines your future. One of the worst things I did in high school
was compare myself to everyone who was close to me in regards to academics, personality,
and lifestyles choices. By comparing myself to others, I began to put myself down for not being
like everyone else therefore hurting me in the process. Almost one year later as we are all
undergoing this college process and anticipating college admission letters from many of our
dream schools, the only advice I can give to you all is to let life take its course. You will get into
the school you were meant to go to and everything will be ok. Don't take a rejection from a
school and use that as an inward reflection of who you are. I’m sure that we all have our dream
schools, and some of us are not going to get into those schools and that is fine. The rest of the
world survives no matter what school they end up going to! It is up to YOU to work hard
wherever you go and take the best education from the classes you choose to attend.
There may be times where you worked hard and other times where you slacked off, but that's
okay because it's all done now; you learned from it and it is time to move on. Be the best
version of yourself anywhere you go, and work towards your goals everyday. All throughout high
school I’ve seen my fellow peers work extremely hard just to get accepted into college and the
only conversations we have had were about school and the countless hours they spent doing
extracurricular activities. Those things are definitely important, but are you truly happy? With two
months left until graduation, our high school experience is almost over. I hope you all make the
most of your time here and carry these experiences with you to college.Academics are definitely
a huge part of our lives and is needed in order for us to succeed but we all need to take time to
breathe and enjoy life as well. Don't be discouraged because you didn't get an A on an exam, or
that you didn't end up getting summa cum Laude out of our whole senior class. And once you
get into college just remember that now you're competing against thousands of students from all
different parts of the world and they all have their own goals and dreams. There's absolutely no
room for comparison because you are your own person with your own individual capabilities. So
I'm not saying don't strive to be on top, but keep in mind that failure comes along with it. But I
can gladly say that a year ago I was nowhere close to the person I am today and I've never
been happier. I have an amazing boyfriend, family and friends who support me so much and I
know all that I've gone through is part of the process. Maybe you haven't experienced failure
yet, but keep in mind that everything in life doesn't come easy. You may think you have it all
figured out, but you'll be surprised to see how much will change in four years. So keep an open
mind, strive to be the best you can be, and just be happy because at the end of the day no
matter what college you attended, or what job you have, you're still amazing and capable of
anything you put your mind to.

"Ghost" by Summer G

     Tomorrow is the first day of my senior year, ahh a fresh start. I spent the whole summer at home
with my dog, my friends never asked me to hangout...but senior year will be different. I was
going to go to target to get my school supplies, but I know I can’t afford that so I walk to
walmart. I get all my supplies then I stop at rite aid for some ice cream on my way home I get
my favorite, rocky road. As I am walking home I spill it all over myself, what a loser. Suddenly,
I see a car speeding and ends up swerving and getting out of control. The car ends up hitting a
kid that had been walking a few blocks ahead of me. The kid flies in the air and the car finally
stops moving. I quickly approach the scene. I am in shock and I quickly grab my phone to dial
911, but of course I couldn't get my phone to work. I guess someone else called them because I
see an ambulance and police cars quickly approaching. I stand there frozen, then I watch as the
coroner's take him away. He must have liked star wars to because he was wearing the same shirt
as me. I just continued on my way home. It is now the first day of school, I walk on campus and
say hi to my friends Jimmy and Warren, they walk right past me, nothing new I guess. I walk
into my first period and as I am about to sit down someone steals my seat, sounds about right. It's
the first day same routine, the teacher, Mr. Edwards introduces himself, he's a goofy man. He
tells us about his kids and such, he starts talking about what we will learn about that year and I
raise my hand to ask him a question, he ignores me, the usual. Everyone ignored me that day.
The next day I knew it would be better, I was determined to have a good day. I walk on campus,
I wave to Jimmy and Warren and again they walk right past me like I don't exist...of course. As
I'm walking through the hall I notice a flyer, the flyer was for a funeral that night and it was for
me...what type of joke?? I am going to this funeral. I walk into the service...all my family and
friends are there. I see a casket...they are really going on with this joke. I look in the casket and I
see the star wars shirt with rocky road spilled all over it……..….it's not a joke

"Misunderstood" by Alejandra A

     She smiles and laughs all the time, her presence makes people’s days. She smiles so much that her cheeks hurt, but the pain that she has in her heart is much more painful, she feels lonely even when there is people around her. She feels misunderstood, like no one really comprehends the way she feels or why she cries. Everyday she puts on a smile and thinks of it as a new beginning, she leaves her sadness in her nightmares and moves on. If only it was as easy as it sounds. Many times she feels as if the walls of her room are caving in on her and she begins to cry. Her life is so perfect on the outside, she has people who love her, a house,food, luxuries, and gets nearly everything she wants. Her life has been great since she was born but as she grew she became to feel lost and like no one was there to support her through her anxiety and depression. Why would someone with everything, have depression? Why would she feel lonely, when she has people who love her? Those questions are left unanswered because not even she knows why. All she knows is that it hurts and it sucks. Her anxiety takes over her, she begins to feel lack of control over her body and emotions. She feels her face start to tingle while the tears begin to go down her cheeks. She feels nauseous and overwhelmed with emotions.  She begins to catastrophize the future, she think she will not make it to college because she did not pass her math or english test. She cries because she feels like a failure, she cries because she thinks that her dreams of being someone in life are over. It has been a month or two where she no longer cries every night, but now she feels numb, completely numb. It is so hard for her to explain it, because she just feels empty. She is sitting in her favorite class but she no longer feels the excitement she used to, she feels as if she is not really there as if she was invisible to everyone. Now at night she wonders if feeling emotions is better than feeling nothing at all. She no longer knew how it felt to feel emotions her body feels empty inside. Her emotions were like California weather in the winter time, some days they were sunny and other days were like flash floods but at the end of the winter the spring comes by and the flowers begin to blossom, and just like that she gets a new beginning. She began to fight her emotions by always trying to be positive,even though some days are more challenging she is doing much better.

"Grandma" by Vanessa L

            This day was very different. It was almost as if I knew something was going to go wrong from the second I woke up in the morning. I was in the seventh grade and I got dropped off at school by my neighbors, just as I did every morning. The school day seemed fairly normal, however I knew something was different from the second my mom picked me up. I didn’t get the usual “How was school?” question, and she couldn’t even look in my direction. I noticed that her eyes seemed swollen as if she had been crying for hours, and this was unusual for my mom. She wasn’t the type to cry so I asked her right away what was wrong. I asked her several times, but got no response. This told me that something serious had happened while I was at school, and I just remained quiet the rest of the way home.

As we reached our neighborhood, my mom pulled into our driveway and she just grabbed my hand. I asked her again what was wrong, and all I remember hearing was, “your Grandma was diagnosed with Cancer today and she has been given two months to live,” before my whole entire world went silent. I could see in my peripheral my mom break into tears, but I couldn’t hear anything. It felt as if I was paralyzed. I wanted to cry but no tears were forming. I wanted to talk but no words were coming out of my mouth. I was in complete shock. I wanted to comfort my mother, but I was just in too much disbelief. I got out of the car, went straight upstairs and locked myself in the bathroom. I remember sitting down on the floor and just thinking about everything I did and didn’t do with my grandma. Depressing thoughts ran wild through my head and I continued to beat myself down for how much I took her presence in my life for granted. I could name millions of things she did for me, but what did I do for her? Why didn’t I visit her more often? Why didn’t I tell her how much I appreciated her more often? These were the types of questions I kept asking myself. Of course I had always treated her with love and respect but I knew that I did not make her feel as special as I could have. 

 As the weeks went on and my grandma started her chemotherapy, I remember going through a stage of pure anger. I was so mad at the world. Why my grandma? What did she do wrong to deserve this? What made me the most angry was that everybody’s lives around me continued on normally. I know this was so selfish of me, but I can remember looking around in my classes and thinking, “Wow, all of these kids are happy while my family is completely suffering.” Nobody knew I was sad and I didn’t want to put a burden on anybody else around me by sharing my situation. I felt helpless.

            After about three long years of harsh treatments, invasive surgeries, and a ton of medication, my grandma had an appointment that had the possibility of being life changing. This appointment was going to include a full body scan to see if her cancer was continuing to spread or if it was slowing down. All of my cousins and I missed school and all of our family united in the waiting room to receive the news together. The scan only took about an hour but after each minute passed it felt like another has been added. The waiting room was completely quiet and we all had tears streaming down our cheeks. Finally, we saw a nurse coming around the corner and we all sat up in our seats. She introduced herself to us and proceeded to give us the big news. I couldn’t stand the anticipation so I laid my head into my lap while she talked. She went on for a couple of minutes about the scan that my grandma had just underwent and then I heard her say,”Congratulations, not only did her cancer stop spreading, it disappeared completely.” As a family we all stood up and began embracing each other while our tears of sadness turned into tears of utter joy.

Although this event was one of the hardest things my family and I have had to endure together, nothing has taught me more than my grandma being diagnosed with breast cancer. I learned that life can be turned upside down in the snap of a finger, and most importantly not to take anybody in life for granted. I also learned, even though this may seem cliché, to make the most out of every single day with my loved ones. As teenagers it’s so easy to get caught up in the little things and we often forget about the bigger picture. We forget to go visit our grandparents, family members, and friends because we are “too busy.” The sad part is, one day the realization will occur that precious time with our loved ones has been wasted. Normally the day we realize this is when it's too late. So, my advice to you is to hug everybody that is important to you and let them know how much you appreciate them. Not just once but all the time. You truly never know when your life can make a turn for the worst.

"The Wonders of a Parent’s Love" by Ivanka S

Every day the thoughts of unanswered questions lurk into my mind: “Were we never enough? Why’d you go?” It was morning, we woke up from our regular slumber. I remember waking up to the sound of an immense cry of a broken heart. I ran to the other room, only to find you gone without a trace, or even a simple goodbye. We called you endlessly in desperation to hear your voice and make an understanding out of this sudden event. We believed that our love was genuine… I believed that it was.

           

            I stand outside, staring blankly at our spot where we would play catch. Memories of laughter, joy, and love we shared together blurred my judgement to fathom the reason why you did what you did. The backyard was where I would always be able to find your presence as you cultivate our garden. Now the fruits and trees that reside are replaced with the flowering lies and sins you have buried to hide from all of us.

           

You left her, you left your children, you left me. We loved you. We gave the same love and affection we credulously believed you had for us all, but you chose water over your own blood. The painful scars that you grazed our hearts with your actions can only be mended but never fully healed. She tried to hide her pain from all us, afraid that it would heighten our resentment towards you. But the quiet sound of her cries and her endless prayers could not be concealed behind her closed doors. Although we were able to pass through the storm and feel the sun, the ocean still overflows from your rain of lies. No matter how much older or wiser I can become, I will never fully understand the reason why you did what you did.

"Genesis" by Marianne S

     The basis of evolution is adaptation. We conform to changes in our environment,
strengthening our weak points and letting go of pointless habits. In many aspects, this primitive
mindset of survival of the fittest has stuck; expression of characteristics that make us fit in stay in
our gene pool for generation to generation. In our efforts to remain resilient in this philosophy,
we have lost part of ourselves in the process.
     I immigrated into America from the Philippines when I was four years old: young enough
to be malleable in character yet old enough to have a grasp of my native culture. It wasn’t
difficult for me to see how differently I talked and dressed, even in my kindergarten class, and
these differences bred a feeling within me of resentment and scrutiny from my peers. When my
mom would pack me a Filipino lunch for school, I would get upset that it wasn't a peanut butter
and jelly sandwich instead, like the other kids. I rejected my roots and, in its place, I adapted to
the ways of my American friends. As a one and a half generation immigrant, my identity was
split between my new culture and my old one, although I decided within me to neglect my old
one and make the new one more apparent. Because of this, I lost the ability to speak in my first
language, Tagalog, and could only merely understand and speak in limited dialogue since my
family began speaking more and more English at home. My discovery on the euphemism of
immigrants as “aliens” as a child furthered my embarrassment of my past. I couldn’t understand
those who took pride in our home country when I neglected it. I didn't want to be seen as the
“fob” within my peers and I saw the change from a four year old girl to over a decade I became
fully enveloped in American culture.
     But as I grew older, I grew tired of the PB&J sandwiches. I regretted letting go of the
culture I was born into and wished that I could have continued learning and growing with it. I
also came to the realization of how much Filipino culture had continued to shape me, even
without my willingness and acknowledgement. Within me, I found the Filipino characteristics of
hospitality, kindness, and friendship, becoming integral parts of my character. I recalled the
classic Filipino dishes my mom would make for dinner every night, yearning for the home
cooked meals. Entering high school, my mindset widened to see how others were so open to
embracing their identity. I came to appreciate my own identity and I wanted to show my
appreciation. My background defines who I am today, and the expression of my two cultures
have become the structure in my personality. It has shaped my perspective on finding ourselves,
retrieving it from where we have lost it. My journey to becoming self evident in the discovery of
my being meant trial and error. I take pride in the cultures I belong to: my character
manufactured by experience and influenced by nature.

"The Unforeseeable" by Ernesto P

It seemed as though it was not real. The idea of never seeing you again was overwhelming and appeared to be impossible to accept. You were my best friend and were always there for me through the best of times and the worst of times. The day when I received the horrific news about my cousin, it left a hole in my heart and a void in my life.

I had just finished elementary school in early June and was eager to start my summer. I would spend a lot of my time at my cousin's house who lived just down the street from me. He was just a couple of years older than me but I viewed him as an older brother and someone who I can look up to. We would play basketball and video games and often talk about any issues or problems that's going on in our lives. This daily routine would continue for about two weeks until one day. It was just like any other day, I went over to his house because I left my PSP over there and wanted to retrieve it back. I knocked on the door several times but no one answered. As I was leaving, I noticed a curtain move from the window out of the corner of my eye. I called out his name multiple times until he finally came out. I noticed he was holding something peculiar behind his back. I asked him what it was, in which he then reluctantly revealed my PSP broken in pieces in a Ziploc bag. I could remember the sense of disbelief and anger I perceived that day. Unwillingly to hear him out, I left after several spiteful and now regretful remarks. A couple of days passed and I still refused to attempt to make amends out of pure stubbornness. The next day I was returning home from a baseball game, and I was informed my cousin was in the hospital. My initial thought was he probably injured himself from skating as he did previous times. However, this was not the case. On the way to the hospital, it seemed as if time itself grew slower and slower. The stoplights managed to turn red as we approached them, and felt as though the universe itself was preventing us from arriving there. However once we arrived after hitting every red light, an ominous sensation emerged.

The hospital had an unwelcoming feel as we approached the entrance. Walking through the hallways, you can see the plain grey floor and walls and the grid-like ceiling composed of those polystyrene squares that do not provide any solace or comfort. The sheer bright light seemed to contrast with the darkening gloom I felt on the inside. As we grew closer to the waiting room, I saw my uncle exit the room and come towards us. The expression on his face emitted a negative feeling that I never experienced before. Words began to spill from his mouth and I could feel my heart sink into my chest. He told us he was in a critical condition from sudden heart complications. We sat in the waiting room which seemed like an eternity. The doctor came out of the room to give us the most dreadful news I have ever heard. A person whom I created many lasting memories with, lies in the room down the hall deceased. I immediately began to think of my last and final encounter with him and how I should have treated the situation. The lesson that I learned from this unfortunate experience is to appreciate the time with your loved ones while you still can. Time is limited and you should treat every second to the fullest.

“My Experience” by Gaby R

     As a child you really don't have a say about what school you can attend nor do you actually really know the difference. You just kind of go with the flow until something actually bothers you and then you realize, “hey I really don't like this school”. When I was in kindergarten I attended Solorio elementary and I was happy with all the friends I made until my parents told me that we were actually going to move to Rancho and that they were sending me to another school. Of course as a 5 year old I wasn't thinking about it too much but one thing that changed was that I had to wear a uniform because they were sending me to a Catholic School known as Sacred Heart. I was okay with the idea when I first actually went there but I wasn't so thrilled since I found out that they were really strict and I could barely leave a class just to go to the bathroom. I was upset with my parents sending me there and all I wanted to do was go back into a public school and have my old friends back. Having those new friends wasn't bad at all especially since every year they were going to be in my class seeing that Sacred Heart only had one class for each grade. I had an understanding later on that my parents sent me there to learn about religion but also when they were younger their parents put them in Catholic schools. In reality what people didn't know was that this school was actually not that great considering it cost a lot of money to send me their and they were behind in their teaching. My purpose isn't to talk bad about this school but the fact that my parents realized that spending all this money wasn't even worth sending their child to that school. When I was in 5th grade I found out that my parents weren't going to send my back to that school for the following year and I was going to go back to a public school for 6th grade and all I could remember was how happy I was. My parents didn't have to spend so much money on uniforms even though it was nice not worrying about what to wear everyday since I already knew. The fact that I got a better education in a public system says a lot and I couldn't be any more thankful for my parents making the decision that they did to make sure I wasn't struggling in school. I guess you can say is I did struggle when I first went to Summit Intermediate but I worked so hard to try and catch up to everyone else. Some people might not feel the same way but that's my personal experience and how I had a bad time going to Catholic School. Just because you pay to try and get a education that you think it's good doesn't mean it's always the best.

"Gratitude" by Darlene C

Gratitude- an emotion we can forget to put into use. Instead, our thoughts are clouded with simple and at times senseless things in life. These distractions sometimes make us forget to recognize how lucky and blessed we are. It has happened to me countless of times, and it continues to occur.

My family; my grandmother, my mother, my father, and two sisters are the most important people in my life. They have sacrificed so much for me, giving me the opportunities they never had. They have been through everything; giving me their wisdom, their support and unconditional love. So, when the possibility of any one of them no longer being there with me became a possibility, it became one of the most frightening moments I have experienced to this day.

One afternoon near the end of 2013, I got into my mother’s car after school and looked up to see her crying. Worried, but knowing that she was trying to calm herself down, I waited to receive the news. After months of discomfort and noticeable change in my father’s behavior, the doctors discovered several masses on the left side of his brain. I sat in shock and in silence during our drive, knowing that when I got home, I was going to have to say goodbye to my father as he was going to be admitted to the hospital for more testing. Days passed by and he underwent several CAT and MRI scans, but those results led to no new discovery as to what those masses were. His health deteriorated rapidly, he was visibly thinner, his strength weakened and his quick and sharp mind slowed. Hope still lingered in our hearts, it was the last thing we could hold onto, but it began to diminish with the lack of hope the doctors had. They gave my mother two options, both showing slim chances of his survival.

It was at that moment that my naivety towards life was cleared, the people you love are not guaranteed forever. After two weeks in the hospital and a small change in the course of my father's health, he was discharged. He came home days before Christmas and we spent it with fears and worries that it would be our last one together. Days and months passed, and to the surprise of the doctors, my father began to regain his health.

Today my father thankfully is still with us, and as every day goes by my gratitude strengthens. I have not only been fortunate enough to have such an amazing family, but I have been given a second chance to appreciate them more than I did before. The thing I have begun to learn about life in these last couple of years is that every event and moment happens for a reason. That no matter what goes on, there is always something to be grateful for. Although sometimes these kinds of events may be difficult to understand, or even justify, they all have a purpose. Sometimes we forget to look for this purpose, but we just have to take the time to look around us to find it.

February means great writing! (New work is here!)

 This is a particular good collection this month!  I think you're really going to enjoy them.  :)

Read all of the selections for this month --   comments are for this latest group only (no earlier months/submissions, or last year's submissions)

Remember:
All Students:  Be sure to read the entries for this group  (February).  Everyone is required to comment on at least three different pieces of writing.  You must post the comment here on the blog (below the post is the "comments" link to click) AND cut and paste your comments, complete with dates and times, on to a Word document and turn it in to me by the February 28.  You must do both to get credit for comments this month.

Remember, comments must be positive, supportive, constructive, and SPECIFIC.  No "Good Job!" comments, unless you follow that with specific things you thought were done well in the piece.  Show them you actually took the time to read and enjoy their work!