Kindness kindles kinship and kinship kindles a sense of community.”
― Abhijit Naskar
It was a cold, sunny afternoon. The other 8th graders and I were gathered, sitting on the steps at Windsor Mountain. We had just arrived a couple of minutes ago after a boring one and a half hour bus ride. The bees and flies swarmed around us, causing nervousness amongst the crowd. I didn’t know what to expect. It was a camp in the middle of the woods and I feared that they wouldn’t have any modern technology. Little did I know that I would get to spend time with my classmates, play wonderful music, and have more fun than anything I had done in years.
We don’t stop playing because we grow old. We grow old because we stop playing.
~Hoagie Malloy
I hopped off the bus after an hour and a half drive. My legs were aching and my stomach was growling. I got my luggage out of the bus. My advisor, Ms.Gupta motioned me to give her my phone. I reluctantly gave it to her and I started to walk down towards the cabins. I entered my cabin and I ran to grab the corner bunk. I sat on my bed. I already knew it was going to be an awesome trip. What I didn’t know was that I was going to learn so much about myself. I didn’t know I could become the most brave, determined and excited version of myself— all in three days.
I don’t always practice what I preach, especially when it comes to the simple, unaffected, and ordinary “journal entry.” Much of my reticence towards the casual journal entry is the public nature of posting our journal writing as blogs more or less “open” to the public. It is hard for me as a teacher of writing to post an entry I know is trivial, mundane, and perhaps of no interest to my readers—but that is precisely what I need to do if I am to model the full spectrum of the writing process. Keeping a journal is more than a search for lofty thoughts amidst the detritus of the day; it is a practice that keeps our wits and writing skills honed for a coming feast by rambling through the meat of the day and drifting and sailing to whatever port is nearest to my pen. Writing is always an odyssey, and so I have to let my mind go and journey (journal) where it will. Good words are built our of ordinary thoughts. At the very least, a journal, filled with the scraps and pieces of our daily lives, will outlive our own lives and serve as both beacon and reminder to future generations.
Alone we can do so little; together we can do so much.
Helen keller
I came into the Fenn community pretty much alone. I was the only 8th grader coming into a brand new community, and only knew two kids already here.I quickly learned about the power of the community of Fenn.
Whether it’s a collaborative group project on the Serengeti in Science class, or playing recess football with your cohort after 2 hours of sitting in the same classroom, the impact of the Fenn community on me was powerful. So powerful that even after 2 months with all of my classmates, they all felt like brothers to me already.They made me laugh like brothers do, and they pissed me off at times just like brothers do.
Green pastures everywhere
No tree or plant in sight
Look and wonder and stare
Thoughts in my head ignite
time freezes around me
Not even a whisper heard
I finally feel free(
And Then I see a herd
Buffaloes eating grass
Horizon before me
In the water, sea bass
What a sight to see
Before I see what’s up
I am such a fool
My alarm clock wakes me up
Ugh, it’s time for school
