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Welcome
to the Memoir Page
Read
the memoirs and then go to the response
page to give feedback or to the write
page
to create your own.
Enjoy!
1.
My Horrible Day- By Paola F, 13, Chicago IL-
"Last year in the summer vacation ,I always liked to go outside
to play with my brother Eduardo. He is now in seventh grade . I always
wanted to play soccer with him, and with my other two friends named
Alexandra and Veronica. They live close to me and they liked to play
soccer too..." Click to read...
2.
Untitled- By Natasha, 14, Aberdeen, United KIngdom-
"The year 2002: Part of the New Millenium. Where us females can
achieve anything. Unfortunately, there is still discrimination..."
Click to read...
3.
Camp Memoir- By William W., NYC, NY- "Days
of riding in the car had made us all wound up, full of energy waiting
to be released. I felt like this day would never come. At last we
were in the boats heading down the river..." Click
to read...
4.
Winter Hiking- By William W., NYC, NY- "When
I think about my life many pictures and images flood my mind. I am
filled with scenes, vignettes from my childhood. They are pieces of
a large puzzle with no end in sight and no apparent beginning. To
create a memoir those pieces need to be put together until a clear
picture is formed. Sometimes I find a small piece but other times
I discover an entire chapter... " Click
to read...
5.
The Letter e- By William W., NYC, NY- "The
day started off like any other day although I didn't have many days
to compare with since school had begun less than a week earlier. I
trudged into the school at 7:45AM, a little early but I like to be
there early. It would be my first full day with a science lab and
I was looking forward to it..." Click to read...
6.
The Bad Guy- By Banessa, 12, Chicago, IL-"This
is the story that my mom always tells my brother.
There was a guy and he was my mom's cousin. His name was Gustavo.
Gustavo was a real bad guy. He wouldn't listen to his mom and he always
got in trouble. Gustavo did many bad things..." Click
to read...
7.
An Essay- By Noemi, 13, Chicago IL-"Sorry to
say but boys are weird. We girls aren't trying to say we're perfect
but why do boys always brag..." Click to read...
8.
Untitled- By Nancy G, 12, Chicago IL-"Every Christmas I go
to my aunt's house. Sometimes she rents a house up on the mountains.
And we celebrate Christmas..." Click to read...
9.
Untitled- By Ian, 12, Chicago IL-"I was with
my friends last year when we heard somebody shoot a gun. We all ran
behind cars, scared out of our skins..." Click to
read...
10.
Untitled- By Celeste, 13 OH-"I went to a Shakespear
summer camp last week to learn about Shakespear and theater but, I
learned a little more. I learned that people arn't always what you
think they are and that some times the people you never think would
want to be your friend, the people who are so popular, the people
who seem to have everything think the same thing about you..."
Click to read...
11.
Kitten Attacks- By Sara 13, NYC, NY-" If you
have ever played with a kitten then you know what temptation is, even
if you are the one tempting the kitten..." Click
to read...
My
Horrible Day
By Paola F, 13, Chicago IL
Last
year in the summer vacation ,I always liked to go outside to play
with my brother Eduardo. He is now in seventh grade . I always wanted
to play soccer with him, and with my other two friends named Alexandra
and Veronica. They live close to me and they liked to play soccer
too.
In my neighborhood some people were fixing the streets and there were
a lot of stones. But I didn’t care about the stones, I still
played soccer with my friends and my brother. Sometimes Adriana went
to my house to play soccer with us.
In
the evening of July 10, I went outside to play soccer with my brother.
I was running so fast and when I tried to turn around I couldn’t
stop so I slipped on the little stones. I hit my ear with the sidewalk
and for five minutes I fainted. But It was weird because during that
time I started to remember all the things I did that day . I woke
up and my ear was bleeding . I didn’t cry but my head started
to hurt me.
My
brother was so scared about me , he carried me into the house and
my mom was scared too. In the first 10 minutes I didn’t remember
what had happened to me. Then we waited till my dad arrived from work.
He arrived like 8:30pm.
We
went in to the emergency room and the doctor was checking my ear.
The doctor told me that he had never seen something like that. Because
I cut my ear in two , so I got stitches. It was horrible , the ear
hurt me and the head too and I felt cold.
The
doctor put a bandage on my ear and everything was over. I was fine
but my head still hurt me, the doctor told me it hurt because I hit
in the sidewalk so hard ,then we went back to the house around 12:00midnigth
. I was happy because that horrible day was over.
-Paolo F, 13, Chicago IL
[
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[Untitled]
Natasha,
14, Aberdeen, United KIngdom
The
year 2002: Part of the New Millenium. Where us females can achieve
anything. Unfortunately, there is still discrimination.
I
was born in Thailand. My mother is thai, and we moved to Scotland
when I was 3. now I am 14 and there are culure differences which I
am very annoyed at.
In
a lot of British women's magazines, it tells you how to be sucessful,
idependent and beautiful. When my mum finds out that I don't want
to get married and have children, she looks at me sneeringly. Like
she knows best.
Yes
she single-handlely raised me and my sister in a foreign country until
I was 9, but she still couldn't get a job. She often looks down on
other Thai women who have social lives, and won't mix with them. To
her, British women are better. Also married women.
She
also believes that when I get older, I should get married and have
children. My education is only to make me more appealling to men.
She still thinks men are better, how I need a man to make my life
better. That a woman can't do anything. Newsflash, in UK, nowadays
a woman can have her own job and house.
She
says she looks back on her single mother days. yet she still doesn't
accept my decision to become a career woman. I work hard with my education
and I want to achieve something out of it, rather than marry. Besides,
2 out of 3 marriages fail. If she looked back on her single mother
days, she'd realise if she had an education, she could have survived
better without a man. Today she relies on one, and believes that having
a man and children are great.
Yes
it can be good, but what about the satisfaction of earning your own
money? The only jobs she wants for me are housewife, actress or model.
I would rather be a lawyer or translator. I would rather have a job
and a house, before thinking of a family and marrying young, only
to divorce a few years later, like she did?
This
is britain, where you can do as you please. In Thailand, my cousins
have remained virgins till they married. (Or when they marry). I respect
that, but I believe that there should be more women there not afraid
of being independent. I don't know if it's just my family, but I believe
that women should be more independent and not afraid to shout out.
-Natasha,
14, Aberdeen, United KIngdom
[
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Camp
Memoir
By William W. NYC, NY
Days
of riding in the car had made us all wound up, full of energy waiting
to be released. I felt like this day would never come. At last we
were in the boats heading down the river. The bow of my boat was going
where I wanted. The river parted as my boat passed and closed again
when I left. No one would have known I was ever there. I was on the
Saint Croix River. With each stroke of my paddle I moved faster and
faster. The icy water seemed to be frozen and each stroke only left
a whisper on the water's smooth surface. In a few minutes my arms
grew numb. The exhaustion invaded my body. I needed a break.
The current
began to speed up as we rounded the bend. "Rapids" the leader
yelled as we hurtled towards our first challenge. The water sprayed
over the bow, soaking me to the bone. It felt good. The spray made
rainbows as the sun glistened through the watery mist. A thick mist
covered the river like a heavy fog surrounding us on all sides. I
was in the clouds floating in a hidden river in the sky. I felt occasional
jolts as we hit the unavoidable rocks sleeping in the stream. You
could feel the rocks as they nudged the boat's bottom. When the "ride"
was over the river widened and became very calm. On either side of
the river there were swamplands covered in thick grasses that were
blocking our view of the shore. For miles the world was just air,
water and grass. The sun shown from above, revealing all to me. The
sandy bottom of the river sparkled with a patchwork of shadows and
light. The world was full of others. There were fish in the water.
Their shining scales reflected the sun up to us through the clear
water. Turtles sat on logs that had sat there for centuries and would
stand for centuries still to come. A few birds flew over us, looking
for prey. Their wings stretched out as they glided in circles.
I was
working extra hard to sustain the same pace. Stroke after stroke after
stroke. When we landed at the campsite I fell out of the canoe and
lay on the ground. Resting and regaining my breath I gathered energy
to prepare the campsite. Slowly we gathered our stuff and lugged bags
to the picnic table. My tent group and I trudged off to claim the
best site to pitch our tent. We found a nice place sheltered by many
pine trees above with soft pine needles below that had been collecting
for years. The ground was so soft and felt almost springy when I jumped
on it. The trees stretched up above our heads and formed a blanket
that covered us from the sky. The sun shone through and cast strange
shadows on the ground.
We went
to bed by the light of a lantern. All three of us slithered into our
sleeping bags. That night I didn't get much sleep. The tree frogs
peeped and the bullfrogs croaked. Owls hooted as they flew silently
around. In the morning I didn't feel much better since my body was
just as sore as the day before. My back hurt. My eyes were heavy as
I walked to get my breakfast of yogurt and granola. I lugged my body
to the stream and rinsed my face off which always helps me wake up.
After packing up camp and loading the canoe we set off. This time
the paddling was automatic and I felt less tired. We went through
a lot of rapids, which propelled us along the river. Around lunch
the sky cleared up. It was such a hot day we all wanted a swim. After
a section of strong rapids we grouped together to rest in the middle
of the river. I "accidentally" fell into the river along
with my partner and a few others, leaving the boats to be watched
by the leaders. The water felt good. It was so cold and clear. The
sun sparkled through the ripples and glittered on the sandy bottom.
The current moved us downstream as our bodies lay helpless in the
current's force. The land sped by as we hurtled along. Unfortunately
we had to get in the boats again. We swam back to the boats and climbed
in, taking care not to tip them over or spill the contents. One day
passed into another then into another and soon a week had gone by.
After
canoeing we drove to Arcadia National Park where we would go kayaking.
It was so different yet the sky is still the sky no matter where it
is. Like the Saint Croix River the scenes while kayaking were breathtaking
and some were so beautiful that trying to capture them with words
would be impossible. The surrounding land alters all living things
by forcing them to adapt to their environment and we had to adapt
as well to our new surroundings.
We were
off. In a straight line we paddled out into the Atlantic Ocean. The
waves splashed over our stern, pushing us towards our destination.
I was cold, my hair was wet and I was exhausted. The cool salty winds
blew over my face and the clear blue sky was clean and fresh. After
three hours of paddling we rounded an island. Its mountain sheltered
us from the wind and the waves. It was there we stopped to eat lunch.
The sun was brilliant, and unlike the forest, there was nothing to
protect us from its fierce heat. There were many treasures scattered
all over the shore- old sand dollars, sea urchins, scallops and many
snail shells. The sky was a perfect blue and the water sparkled like
newly polished silver. As far as I could see there was water and sky.
Far in the distance they met. It filled me with amazement that two
such different elements could really become one. Eventually we had
to leave, this time for our campsite. We aimed for the patch of sand
across the water. Slowly we moved along, this time against the wind.
It was hard work. Along the way bald eagles flew overhead. Seals lay
on the sand, absorbing the warmth from the sun, preparing to dive
into the icy waters of the ocean. After a long and tiring paddle we
arrived at the sandy beach. The trip had been worth it. There were
no rocks on the beach at all. After unloading our equipment we put
on swimsuits and dove in. The cold water pierced my lungs and froze
my body. I started swimming as fast as I could to stay warm. The water
felt good. No one stayed in the water for long and I got out last.
We all went to bed early because we planned a midnight paddle later
that evening. In the middle of the night we crawled out of bed. The
orange moon hugged the ocean surface. We silently slipped into the
water. There was not a sound anywhere. The water was very calm but
lit up as we stirred up the plankton causing them to give off a green
flash. We silently circled the island we were camping on, taking in
the wonders of the night. After capturing as many images of the night
for ourselves as we could, we made our way back to our campsites just
as the sky began to brighten.
[
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Winter
Hiking
By William
W. NYC, NY When
I think about my life many pictures and images flood my mind. I am
filled with scenes, vignettes from my childhood. They are pieces of
a large puzzle with no end in sight and no apparent beginning. To
create a memoir those pieces need to be put together until a clear
picture is formed. Sometimes I find a small piece but other times
I discover an entire chapter. Some portions are bright and vivid while
others hide in the corners and are never found. It began on a cold,
clear February day. Not a cloud spotted the brilliant blue sky. Just
looking outside filled me with energy and I had to do something. The
air was frozen and not a breath of wind was anywhere. The weather
was perfect. Inside the cabin the fire roared in the fireplace and
sparks floated up the chimney. The large elk bust hung over the fire.
The thermometer outside on the tree read –5 degrees (Fahrenheit).
Even in the cold the bright sun shown off the ice crystals on the
ground and sent rainbows of light through the large glass windows.
We bought
a small trail lunch and it was sitting near the door in a small paper
bag. Inside I was burning up in my fleece pants and snow pants, long-sleeved
shirt, fleece coat and a windbreaker. My gloves and hat were in my
lap. I went outside to sit on the bench while I was waiting. As soon
as I crossed the threshold from inside to out the cold was upon me.
It was not immediate but slowly I felt it stinging my face and hands.
My dad soon joined me. We set off towards the lake. The ice was three
or four feet thick and covered in a few months worth of snow, which
wouldn’t melt until next spring. We took the shortcut straight
across instead of walking around. We quickly developed a sweat and
it was no time before we were walking in our t-shirts.
The
snow had developed a nice crust over the past few days as the sun
melted it and the cold froze it into ice. At first the trail was well
worn since it was the main trail leaving the lodge. The snow was firm
under our feet and made walking easy. Even so the environment was
still harsh that it never failed to amaze me how anything could survive
the winter. The sun was still low in the sky and we met no other travelers.
The trees were old growth (had never been cut down to be used as farm
land and were in their natural place) and stood tall above our heads
filtering the sunlight. The snow had buried the underbrush so you
could see far into the distance under the majestic trees. It was as
if we were floating ten feet above the ground, which in a way we were
since we were on thick snow. As other trails branched off the trail
got thinner and the snow softer but it was still easy going.
We hiked
on the main trail until the early afternoon and took a rest at Marcy
Dam. We hiked up and down some hills and around a corner and turned
onto a bridge crossing the dam. The icy cold water rushed over the
dam into the river below. I shivered as we walked over it. The sound
of the water was deafening as it rushed under our feet. As we stopped
at a small lean-to for lunch we could hear songs of wildlife for the
first time. Sparrows and squirrels scurried around in the treetops.
I flung out a small peanut. Immediately a sparrow flew down and took
a few questioning pecks at the mysterious food. It then hopped around
and picked it up and flew to its perch above in a tall oak tree. I
threw out a few more peanuts because they were my least favorite in
all the GORP (Traditionally is “Good Old Raisins and Peanuts”
but ours had dried fruit, coconut peals, M&M’s and some more
delicious munchies). This time a few sparrows flew down to investigate.
One bold one! picked it up. I kept throwing more and each time they
were closer to me. Finally I put one in my hand and a bird alighted
on it. It walked around; I could feel its sharp claws on my skin as
it hopped around to hold his perch.
We had
to leave so I stopped my play and we set off down a new trail to Avalanche
Lake. Pine trees on all sides thickly surrounded the trail and a light
powder of snow covered the branches. As we walked the snow came showering
down on us from above. It was so fine that it gave the affect of a
heavy fog. Behind us we could see clouds of snow just beginning to
settle. The trail started up higher and higher. The going was getting
harder. Occasionally we would step aside as a cross-country skier
went hurtling down the mountainside. The sides of the trail were lined
with about a foot of snow now. It was like a wall. When I crouched
down I could look at the ground even with my eye. Small tracks from
chipmunks were all over the walls of snow. By then I was growing bored
because it all seemed the same and you had to stress yourself to find
anything different or unique because it was all covered in snow. I
needed to do something else to rid myself of the energy that I hadn’t
yet released. I found myself walking twice the distance as anyone
else as I ran off down side trails and to the lean-to’s to investigate.
The ground
began to level off again as we neared the lake. There were two mountains,
one on either side of us. The wind began to pick up in the afternoon.
I could see the wind howl over the mountaintops, slinging the snow
from the side with bare rock all over the other side. We could see
avalanches along the mountainsides. We had to walk through one recent
one that they didn’t get to clear yet. Trees covered the path
and there were mounds of earth and bushes fifteen feet high. We climbed
up and over it with ease. Later on right before the lake there was
an older avalanche and it had been cleared. There was a trail right
through the middle of the dirt and trees. The earth was piled up on
both sides about twenty feet. The closeness of the walls of dirt made
me feel uncomfortable and I shuddered at the sheer size of some of
the fallen trees. Avalanche Lake was long and thin. Two cliffs stood
on both sides. The wind howled through the thin passageway. I had
to put my coat on and pull my hat low to prevent the snow from stinging
my face. Below me the ground had been wind blown. The snow was carved
by the wind into small holes and caves. It was fascinating to see
all the interesting shapes. A wall of snow was on the left and it
had formed from the wind blowing the snow towards the cliff. It was
really steep and I had the urge to climb it. I started up. It was
almost like climbing a wall. With each step I kicked my boots into
the icy crust into the soft snow beneath. I couldn’t wait to
get to the top. Excitement boiled up inside and gave me bursts of
energy when the going got hard. As I neared the top I couldn’t
continue. It grew too steep to climb. I turned around and could see
my dad in the distance as he walked across the lake. I sat down and
kicked up my feet.
Nothing
happened at first. What a waste of time and effort I thought. The
icy layer collapsed under my weight. I gave a few shoves and I popped
above the ice and I shot downhill, too fast for my liking. I frantically
tried to stop myself. Using both my hands and my feet I hit the ice
trying to break through to the snow beneath. I started to panic as
the trees at the bottom grew closer. I didn’t know what to think.
I was just mad at myself for being so stupid. I should have tried
to aim better and avoid the trees altogether incase I couldn’t
stop but It was too late now. Suddenly I hit a soft spot. My feet
shot in and I flew forward and did a face plant in the snow. All the
recent snow had fallen down the side of the hill and lay at the bottom.
I ran to catch up with my dad. He was far up on the trail again. We
were nearing the end of our goal for the day but I was full of energy
and wanted to climb a mountain. We decided that we could climb a mountain
and go down the other side. This would also cut off a few miles from
our trip. I liked this idea. I could climb a mountain, get back early
and have time for a nice hot chocolate in front of the fire before
dinner. We started up down the trail. It hadn’t been used in
a while and there were no footprints to follow so we had to rely on
the trail markers. With all the snow the markers were only about a
foot above the snow and probably completely covered farther up the
mountain but I didn’t mind. We were climbing a mountain there
was only one top we could aim for. The trees’ branches stretched
for the sun and were covering the path. Many times we had to push
them aside and as we let go the snow on the branches would fly down
our backs or into our face.
The going
was slow and most of the time later on was spent on our hands and
knees climbing up steep hills. I was smaller than my dad and used
my momentum to carry me up some steep parts while grabbing onto anything
I could. My dad however was so slow. He spent as much time falling
as he did climbing. None of the small treetops there held his weight
very well. I spent the time waiting exploring the cliff walls that
often were near the trail. Some had majestic ice formations. The color
of the ice was enough to take my breath away. It was a light aqua
blue, a color I never thought could be found naturally but I guess
I was wrong. One even had a small crevice that I could hide in. After
a few hours passed we were near the top. The trees had been reduced
to shrubs. The constant snow and wind had covered all the plants with
an inch of snow so that no green at all was visible. The harsh climate
at the top was too much for much to survive. A few lone hawks were
circling around the mountain. The sun sparkled off of everything and
at times the light was almost blinding. The trail was getting harder
and harder to find and each time we stepped off the trail we would
fall a few feet into the deep snow. The going was almost impossible
but we had to make it. We completely lost track of the trail and began
wandering around. We could see the top a few hundred feet up but there
was no trail, just snow. We were pretty high up then and I had to
breath even more than normal to satisfy my needs. As I looked around
I could see only one other mountain higher than ours, which was Mt.
Marcy, the tallest mountain in the Adirondacks. I was determined to
get to the top but we couldn’t make it. I was so disappointed
but not because we didn’t get to the top (we were close enough
to the top so I could say that I climbed it) but because we would
have to walk eleven miles back around to make it back to the lodge.
We didn’t want to get stuck up on the top so we had to start
back soon. The temperature was dropping and clouds were rolling in
from the east. We turned back down the hill. Going down was fun. We
both sat down and carefully slid down the mountainside. It seemed
like no time had passed going down and we set off at a brisk pace
to reach the lodge before sunset.
We neared
the lodge around five o'clock and we were exhausted. My worried mother
was waiting inside the door for us wondering if she should send a
search party. I chuckled to myself about the search party as I went
to change out of my wet clothes and put on something warm and dry.
By
William W. NYC, NY
[
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The
letter e
By William
W. NYC, NY
The
day started off like any other day although I didn't have many days
to compare with since school had begun less than a week earlier. I
trudged into the school at 7:45AM, a little early but I like to be
there early. It would be my first full day with a science lab and
I was looking forward to it. We had biology first. In front of the
classroom door, there were already a handful of kids waiting. I sat
down on a bench and talked with someone about school so far; did he
like the teachers? What was his schedule? that kind of stuff. The
hallways began to slowly fill up as it neared 8:00AM. Our teacher
rushed up the stairs and through the door into the classroom trying
to organize everything before the first period began.
The bell
rang and we all walked into the classroom. Each of us went to our
assigned seat and the teacher began to take attendance. When she finished
she began to explain the lab we would be doing. It involved the letter
“e” and we were to look at “e” in the newspaper
under the microscope. She talked for a long time on that subject and
I tuned out as my mind began to wander. Everyone got up out of their
seats and walked to the front of the room. My lab partner said they
were getting the worksheets and I followed the other kids. When I
got back to my seat, I had to get up again and retrieve the microscope.
There was also the lens cleaner, slide cover and newspaper to get.
All my materials were neatly organized and I could begin the experiment.
The teacher started to explain how to use the microscope but I already
knew the basics and plunged ahead. I plugged the light in and switched
it on. The newspaper print was small but there was an abundance of
e's to choose from. I chose one that I would guess was in the word
“hesitant” but all I could see was “hesit”.
I focused the word under low power, which was 40 times as large as
normal. I could see only three letters. In a circle on my paper I
drew the letters as best as I could. They were backwards and that
threw me off when I was making the letter “e” so I had
to erase it and try again. The letters appeared to be made of many
large lines. Under 100 times magnification there was only the letter
“e” and nothing else. The letter now seemed to consist
of dots and lines. Under 400 times magnification there was only a
part of the letter. This too looked like lines and dots.
As I finished
my last drawing I heard a plane flying very close to our school. I
looked out the window near my seat and saw a plane flying straight
for the World Trade Center just down the street. It flew in from over
the Hudson River then straight into the building. The whole school
shook with the impact - the explosion disrupted our focus in the class
and many others in the school, it disrupted all of Manhattan. It looked
like a scene that was missing from Independence Day. Above the front
blackboard the television screen flickered even though it was not
on. Out the window, the plane disappeared into the building and seconds
later the flames shot out either side as the fuel ignited and the
fire burst forth. Parts of the plane and building showered down from
the explosion. Smoke trailed off the pieces as they rained down. The
image was fascinating and horrifying all at once. My first thought
was wow where's my camera when I need it. The falling debris captured
my imagination just like a firework does. It was so unreal. I wouldn't
have believed I really was seeing this until someone else yelled out
in horror that a plane had hit the World Trade Center. As the debris
fell, the smoke grew thick and black with all the toxins burning inside
the building. Occasional explosions above sent fire shooting out of
the building and things falling to the ground. The first hit building
was right behind the World Trade Center closer to us so the damage
was invisible. The heat waves altered and blurred everything behind
them like under the microscope when it was out of focus. The smoke
however could clearly be seen on either side. I didn't know what to
feel.
Our teacher
started crying and told us all to continue working. She closed all
the shades, which really didn't help because you could still see through
them. As she left the room to compose herself she told us to keep
working and she would be back soon to help anyone who needed it. As
soon as she left another teacher ran into the room from the other
side of the building to take a look for herself. She started screaming
and yelled for everyone to stop working and to come look out the window.
Everyone rushed over to look. When everyone calmed down and got back
in their seats no one could work. One kid took out a radio and we
all listened to the broadcast. No one had been sure about any of the
facts so, on hearing the news, many kids burst into tears.
Just after
everyone had calmed and collected themselves, the second plane hit
the other building. This one was even closer to our school than the
earlier strike. All of us could see everything. The crash was just
above the top of the window if you looked straight out but when I
bent down and looked up, I could see the gaping hole. The plane hit
in the corner and you could see through the building to blue on the
other side before the smoke engulfed everything. Debris was falling
everywhere. I almost accepted the second one without another thought,
probably because I was still in shock from the last one. Never before
had is seen so much fire and never again would I want to. The kid
next to me screamed and said he saw people jumping but I didn't believe
him. I think that my mind failed to acknowledge this reality because
of how horrifying it was. The principle's voice came in over the PA
system. He told everyone to stay calm and informed everyone in the
school what had happened since those on the north side of the building
wouldn't know. We were to continue our day as normal and the only
change would be that everyone had to eat inside during lunch. The
whole time all I was thinking about was other kids like me who had
just lost a father or mother in the accident and I thought about what
would happen if I lost my parents. My next class was math research.
The classroom was in the same place as the biology lab except two
flights down. When I was walking to my next class it was so quiet.
There were no voices in the halls- a hush an eerie hush fell upon
the halls of the school. There were people in the crowded hallway
crying. In the math room the television was on and we were watching
CNN and the reports about the World Trade Centers and the Pentagon.
A lot of kids had started on their homework for other classes not
realizing what had happened. The room was so chaotic and it really
didn’t help people stay calm and under control. There was a
group of kids near the corner window watching the fire with fascination.
Many of them hadn’t realized how horrible the fire was and thought
it was fun- exciting. I sat watching the television even though I
could just look out the window and see everything first hand. I preferred
to see everything on the television- it was easier to deal with, not
quite as real. The news reports kept repeating the same thing over
and over so I strolled over to the window instead. I sat down on the
heater under the window and watched for a while. All of a sudden,
the side of the burning building seemed to flake right off the building
and dust began to cover everything. No one could see what happened.
The electricity flickered and we lost our television coverage. Some
thought that there was another bomb on the ground floor but I knew
that the building had fallen down. I saw it kneel and then melt- like
the witch in the Wizard of Oz.
There
were hundreds of people standing on the streets, watching the buildings
burn. As the building fell, they were engulfed in smoke and dust.
A thick gray wall of dust and debris shot down the street toward our
building. People ran screaming, scared, breathless, to get out of
the way, many tripping and falling over each other in their frantic
flight. Some sought refuge in our school to grab a breath of air and
a moment of safety before continuing. I had lunch next and was in
the cafeteria. Why hadn't we left I kept asking myself as the last
image I saw was of the wall of smoke flying towards our building.
Once we were surrounded it wouldn’t be safe to leave so the
sooner the better. From the cafeteria, I could see nothing happening
and I felt vulnerable not knowing what was going on outside. We were
supposed to be having homeroom but our teacher didn't show up. When
an announcement was made to evacuate the building our teacher still
didn't show up. No one knew what to do. Another teacher came over
and told everyone to sign a piece of paper for attendance and follow
his class.
Down in the lobby it was a mess. Thousands of kids were trying to
make their way to the back exit (around 3,200 students). It wasn't
long before I lost everyone I knew- my class and I had no idea what
to do. I followed the procession. People covered in ash and dust fell
in through the front door and sought refuge and water as we filed
out. I felt uncertain and tentative about leaving the security of
the building and going into the smoky air outside. As we made our
way down the stairs, someone tripped and no one even stopped to help
her up. She scrambled up and continued on because she had to. Outside
on the north side of the building everything seemed normal until we
rounded the corner. The air was full of smoke and was thick coming
from the south. We could hardly see the bridge crossing the street
to our school just a few feet away. We began to run north, up the
side of the Hudson River to safety. Policemen were everywhere telling
people to pick up the speed.
I had no idea where to go. I didn't know if I should go home because
home was just a few blocks away. I looked toward home and could only
see dust covering the street around the corner from my house. I decided
to try to stop by home but I wasn't allowed to cross the street by
the police. I continued north to see if I could find my mom at her
office about a half-mile further north. When I got there I looked
around for someone I knew or even a teacher I could talk to, but I
couldn't find anyone in the crowd. It was a beautiful day and the
sky was blue without a cloud in the sky. The only obstruction was
a cloud of black smoke south where the Twin Towers once had been.
I kept looking back expecting them to somehow be there, but they weren't.
I wasn’t sure if we were all going north to Chelsea Piers but
I knew I wanted to find my family. I finally found a teacher where
I wanted to turn off to find my mom. She told me to get away from
here. To find a friend's house to stay at because no one would be
able to leave the island any time soon. She seemed panicked. I decided
to leave the crowd. Everyone was continuing north and I was the only
person leaving and heading to the east- but I left anyway. My mom
wasn't at work. A flock of security guards approached me as I entered
the building and asked me for some ID. They called my mom and she
wasn't there so I decided to go home. I was walking south, and was
the only one moving towards the disaster. I had to weave in and out
of the crowd to make any progress at all. As I got closer to home
the people were moving faster and some were even running. Hundreds
of sirens were sounding as they rushed to the scene of the accident.
At home I found my mom in a panicked state and all teary eyed. We
were united once again and would not soon part.
Now when
I try to fall asleep, the sounds of the city- loud bangs, the sound
of a plane overhead or sirens going by, hold a new meaning for me,
one of uncertainty, fear. I can't listen to thunderstorms the same
way I used to, the noise makes me jump and my heart beats faster.
And, whenever I think about the letter e chills run down my back.
-By
William W. NYC, NY
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The
Bad Guy
By Banessa,
12, Chicago IL
This
is the story that my mom always tells my brother.
There was a guy and he was my mom's cousin. His name was Gustavo.
Gustavo was a real bad guy. He wouldn't listen to his mom and he always
got in trouble. Gustavo did many bad things. He smoked cigarettes
and weed and he also got into fights.
Once he and his friends got into a big fight with other gangbangers
and he got beat up. I thought it was an accident but my mom told me
it was a fight. He got better from that fight, so he kept on doing
bad things again,until one day he got shot five times in his body
for fighting with other gangbangers.
Gustavo was in a coma in a hospital. The last words he told his mom
before he was in a coma and died were that he was sorry for all the
bad things he did.
My mom always tells this story over and over again so that my brother
won't do what Gustavo did because we love him and we don't want to
see him in this kind of situation.
-By
Banessa, 12, Chicago IL
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An
Essay
Noemi,
13, Chicago IL
Sorry
to say but boys are weird. We girls aren't trying to say we're perfect
but why do boys always brag about that nasty --- they took after eating
Mcdonalds, and why do boys say that they have "----" (as
in girls)? All these things we're talking about, no one knows except
for you boys out there. Another known fact is 90% of the time boys
want to be your friend it's mostly to get with you. I'm not trying
to make boys seem bad. Boys can also be good friends. I used to have
a best friend that was a boy for ten years. He and I were really good
friends and sometimes I wish we still were friends. I have to admit
a party without boys isn't fun. Come on, girls, you know you like
it when a boy flirts with you. Well it depends if it's that fine boy
you've been checking out for the past two weeks. Hey boys, to tell
you the truth, when we say we hate you we really mean we love you.
-Noemi,
13, Chicago IL
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Untitled
Nancy
Gonzales, 12, Chicago IL
Every
Christmas I go to my aunt's house. Sometimes she rents a house up
on the mountains. And we celebrate Christmas.
Sometimes inside the house it gets dark and my aunt lights a fire.
Every time she lights a fire,I sit on the sofa in front of the fire
and look at the fire. I remember the great things I've
done with my family and friends. When I look at the fire for a long
time,I start seeing myself with family members and friends playing
together in the snow. My sisters are building a smowman. They throw
a snowball in my face. I try to throw a snowball in their face but
I can't.
When my parents call me to go to dinner,
the figures disappear and I can only see the fire that lights the
living room with its beautiful color.
-Nancy Gonzales, 12, Chicago IL
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Untitled
Ian,
12, Chicago, IL
I was with my friends last year when we heard somebody shoot a gun.
We all ran behind cars, scared out of our skins. It happened to be
High Schoolers. They were are drunk and neither of them had shirts
on. One of my friends ran of and the high schoolers chased him. We
all went home and called the cops. They came and arrested the teenagers.
It was one scary night.
-Ian,
12, Chicago, IL
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Untitled
Celeste,
13, OH
I
went to a Shakespear summer camp last week to learn about Shakespear
and theater but, I learned a little more. I learned that people arn't
always what you think they are and that some times the people you
never think would want to be your friend, the people who are so popular,
the people who seem to have everything think the same thing about
you.
Jessy wore cool clothes and sat with cool people at lunch. Jessy had
frizzy brown hair that didn't stay down 'till she atact it with clips
and a suripy deep voice that seamed to sing everything she said. Her
"interesting thing about myself" on the first day of camp
was that she was adoupted but, she talked about her parents and seamed
to be cose to them. Everyone at camp knew her name and talked with
her. She had it all. I could never be HER friend, so I thought. On
Wednesday we rehersed act 5 scean 1 of A Comedy of Errors the play
we would preform on Friday. It was the scean I was in along with almosed
half the camp encluding Jessy. After rehersing to gether I ate lunch
next to Jessy in her little circle of friends and became quite tight
with all of them and one of the main interesting storie tellers during
lunch. Friday evning on our way to our dinner of pizza Jessy told
an interesting storie to me. Not to the whole croude just to me. I
felt special. As if by h!
er telling a storie to me was some kind of iniciation to her circle
of friends. after the show that night as I walked down the down town
side walk with my mom to the parking garage I herd a voice behind
me call "Celeste!" I turned around and there was Jessy,
half a block behind me. She started runing at me with her arms open.
At first I was startled but, then I knew what to do so I ran to her
and we hugged. "Se you next year k?" she smiled. "Shure"
I said and turned to catch back up with my mom who asked hapily "Who
was that?" "Oh, just a FRIEND." I replied
-Celeste,
13, OH
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Kitten
Attacks
Sara,
13, NYC
If
you have ever played with a kitten then you know what temptation is,
even if you are the one tempting the kitten. There areplastic cat
toys that they sell at most pet stores that resemble fishing poles
except there is a furry little fake mouse dangling at the end. People
usually dangle the mouse in front of the kitten and watch it jump
around while they laugh at the confused and dazzled little kitten.
This kitten is probably feeling teased and tempted, after all, cats
have a natural instinct for eating mice. The color blind little creature
thinks that this very real looking snack is it’s lunch, so it gets
all worked up for a mouse that is just artificial fur and cotton.
My scenario is different because when it comes to cats, I am theone
being tempted. I am the confused kitten and the kitten is the elusive
mouse dangling in front of me. I have an allergic reaction to cats.
My eyes get hot and itchy and I get hives all over my face. The fact
that I am allergic would be a great excuse not to go near cats if
I hated them, but I don’t hate them, I am captivated by them.
I love cats. When I was little, (before I knew I had allergies) I
used to love to go to my aunt Gloria’s house to play with her old,
fat, speckled cat, Myrtle. I used to chase her around the house, pet
her and play with her all day.
Now, if I want to touch a cat, I need to wear a gas mask and a
protective suit. Two of my friends have little frisky kittens. One
is named River, the other cat is named Sky. These kittens tempt me
the most, even more than the old, fat cat Myrtle. River is a black
and white, slim kitten with sleek fur. Sky is a puffy gray kitten
that is part Persian.
I am always tempted to touch these two but I know that I can’t
without my skin erupting with hives. One day when I was visiting my
friend Jaime’s house, (River’s owner) my sister and her sister spent
the whole morning pretending and playing with River. Just watching
them holding the kitty and throwing him fake mice and hanging a mouse
in front of his face made me anxious to play too. This kitty was soft
and gentle and his cute manner had me itching... to play with him.
I started singing softly. I made up a song off the top of my head
about the way I felt about River.
Everyone heard me and started laughing. I was now that confused
dazzled little kitten, eyes full of temptation. I let myself become
sucked in to their teasing.
There were too many emotions in my head. I wanted to touch the
cat, but I knew I couldn’t, but then again.... I took my hand and
stroked the kitten. I was right. River was the softest thing I had
ever felt. I was so happy but Jaime scolded me, “Saraaaa, your allergic!
Sit down, away from River” I did as she said, a little guiltily, but
still glad I had pet him. Then absent-mindedly I rubbed my eye using
the hand I touched River with. The itching started only minutes later
and became worse and worse as I rubbed harder and irritated it. The
dander in the air made me sneeze and the hives started to form around
my lips. The itching was unbearable.
The worst thing was that my finger nails were too short to scratch
with. Jaime’s mother noticed what I was doing (and why) and hurried
to the bathroom for the Benadryl. She spooned some of the bitter,
artificial bubble gum liquid into my mouth. It was terrible and made
my face wrinkle up and my throat numb.
That is how the kitten attacks me, but I’m not sure if it is the kitten
that attacks or if it is temptation. Even though it was River that
started this chain of events, I still love him and think he is the
softest, cutest animal alive....
-Sara,
13, NYC
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