Promotion, or “graduation” for eighth graders at my school. It’s not called “graduation” because we’re not graduating from anything, we’re just going to high school. Anyways, it’s here. I know that me and my friends have been looking forward to this day since day one of eighth grade. Now we’re counting down the days left that we still have with EVERYONE we’ve known for the past three years.  Three. Monday. Two. Tuesday. One. Wednesday. Zero. It’s here. I know it shouldn’t be such a big deal right? It’s just high school, and majority of us are only going to school about five blocks from each other. We can still hang out during the weekends, and there’s something called technology; cell phones, IM’s, emails. But the thing is, we won’t get to see each other every day and in each other’s classes. We won’t be able to laugh at all the things that happened at school that day together because we won’t know who those people are. We’ll make new friends, and become closer. We’ll lose friendships that we’ve had through out misddle school because of differences. People say theat these things never happen, but they do. We’ve gone through it once, fifth to sixth grade, and we all know what’s real and what isn’t. The most changing three years of our lives, were spent with those people. Even if we drift apart, memories last forever. Thank goodness for memories.

I believe in magic and superstitions… how about you? What if there was a thirteenth hour? Where witches wearing black dresses, pointy shoes, and pointy hats fly on their broomsticks doing who knows what. What if they created potions in their cauldrons all in this special hour when we’re asleep? What if they’re just ordinary people who do stuff like Wicca, does that make them the sterotypical witches? What about wizards? Do they exist? Are they Merlin good, or Lord Voldemort bad? Are they as powerful as witches, are they the same, or are they weaker? To be a good wizard/witch, are you born with it or can you acquire it? Who came up with these stories anyways? Why is the number 13 unlucky? 13. 13. 13. It’s my favorite number, yet in all hotels they supposedly don’t have a 13th floor. Well guess what fellow travel buddies, if you EVER get a room on the fourteenth floor, or twevelth, however the hotels are built, you are actually on the 13th floor! oohhh scared now? How about ghosts, are they real? If they were good during life on Earth do they go to heaven or well the other one? Is there a heaven or a, uhm, you know, that other one? Are there ghosts roaming Earth, that we just can’t see? Can they drink or eat? Can they talk or hear or see us? I guess these questiosn can’t really be answered… until we find out if magic is real or not. Is there good magic and bad magic, or only one kind? I hope we find out one day!

In the first scene Duke Frederick bans Duke Senior to the Forest of Arden, because he wanted all his brothers powers. Duke Frederick tries to banish Duke Senior’s daughter too, who is Rosalind. Cecilia Refused to let her father banish Rosalind, because she is her cousin and her best friend. While that is happening Orlando the younger brother of Oliver (both are the son Sir Rowland De’boy) are in an argument. Orlando is hard-headed and cocky so he gets himself into a wrestling match. Oliver doesn’t care if Orlando gets in wrestling match with the strongest wrestler, because he never did like his brother. On the day of the wrestling match Cecilia and Rosalind went to watch the match between the famous wrestler and Orlando. When Rosalind and Orlando caught each others eye it was love at first sight. Orlando did end up winning the match, as well. Rosalind and Cecilia went home, with the fear that they will be separated. So Rosalind comes up with an idea to dress in disguise. Rosalind changed her identity to a man named Ganymede, and Cecilia changed hers too. Together with touchstone, their entertainer, they run away to the Forest of Arden. At the same time, Orlando starts to grow weary of his brother Oliver, so he runs away to the Forest of Arden with his old servant, Adam. Orlando arrived at the forest way before Rosalind, Touchstone, and Cecilia, and he can’t stop thinking about Rosalind. He starts to write poetry about her on the tree. In the morning when Duke Frederick found out his daughter, Cecilia disappeared, he ordered his guards to haunt down Orlando. He told them that because he felt Orlando had something to do with it, since he ran away at the same time at the same place. Soon after Orlando runs into Rosalind, thinking she is a man named Ganymede. Rosalind started to test him about his love for her, and Orlando tells about his deep love for her. Rosalind (Ganymede) tells Orlando to call him Rosalind from now on, and that he will cure him of being lovesick.

*Students in Georgia wrote posts about which songs where important to them and why, and that made me want to do something like that.

 The song “Your guardian angel” by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus is such a sweet song. When I hear it reminds me of all the people that love me, and will be there for me through it all. “Seasons are changing, and waves are crashing, and stars are falling all for us” makes me sad because as months and seasons go by, people and things will change. Hopefully, if my friends are true enough, they’ll be there for me when I fall. Everytime I hear this song I want to do one of two things; lay down and just listen to it, or put my skates on and try to create a program to the song. It’s a soft song, but there are pick up spots, so it’ll be good for my skating program. There are a spots where I could do spins, but fitting in a jump with the song might be a little harder, but still do-able.

 My next song is “Sugar We’re Going Down” by Fall Out Boy (I know it’s an old song, but still). SORRY but yes it’s another song that wants to make me skate. I’m sorry, I’m a figure skating freak, but I’m proud. It’s has an upbeat tune but the meaning is also really sweet. I mean, the guy is wishing he’s the guy for the girl that he likes. It’s a song that most teens would be able to sing along with, and in a program it’d be so much fun to have. Most teens do not know a lot of classical music, but with this song it’ll grab the attention of the audience.

My last song is “Say” by John Mayer. “It’s better to say too much, than to never say what you need to say again”. I really like that line because everyday is a new day, and in one minute a lot can change. You can have your best friend by your side one day, but the next day you two could slip away. A loved one can know that you love them, but if a freak accident happens, and something happens, they’ll never find out how much you love them because you never told them. Oooh, now your crush, you can like the guy/girl but in a day something can change the way you feel about them. You can always tell them too much, and always explain things to them afterwards if you say too much. If you don’t tell them, and they get a boyfriend/girlfriend, you’ll have to wait to find out if they feel the same way.

It’s incredibly nice outside, even if it is 7:30 pm. I step outside, and the warm air hugs me like my warmest, fuzziest winter sweater. I want to go down town and hang out with some of my friends, but at the same time I have to practice. The warm air is making me regret I decided not to wear shorts and change when I get there. My long pants and jacket are killing me in this warm air. My mom finally gets into the car and drive me to wear I want to be. I step inside the building, and I know that I’ve made the right choice. If I didn’t decide to pursue this sport, I could be hanging out in DTSS with my friends. I lace up my boot and step onto the ice, and as soon as I do I feel like I’m at my second home. I love the feel of the ice under my blade, and the cold air hitting my cheeks. I like the motion of my legs pushing my crossovers so I can get around the rink. Three-turn and I’m doing backward crossovers. I love the feeling of being able to push off of my toe pick, spinning in the air, and landing clean. I might have just began skating a year and a half ago, I’ve caught up to some girls that have been skating for 5,6 years! When I see people who are better than me, it motivates me to practice even harder. I know that I’m a late skater, but if I put enough effort into it I won’t be for long. All I know is that I’ll be at the rink every Friday, unless something else comes up, and I’ll skate my heart out. I’ll do that until I can’t anymore, which, I hope, will be a long, long time from now.

Well, it wasn’t as if I designed the program to, I used google pages. I signed up to do the Passion Project, a optional 8th grade project. I wanted to do it but I didn’t know where to start. I had two ideas that I knew that I wanted it to be about; figure skating and the environment, but it’d be a fundraiser for something. I decided that the environment would be more important so I worked on that. My first thought was to do a community clean up and talk to people about it, but I had a hectic schedule in February and I didn’t want to get burnt out at the beginning of 2nd semester. It was a month before the date of the clean up when Mr.Mayo told my class that another student was working on a website for Darfur, on google pages. I talked to my advisor about it, and we both agreed to do the website and cancel the clean up.

The website posts my ideas and stand on global awareness, mainly about pollution and sometimes about global warming. I just posted my first post about Earth Day and what you can do on that day, if you don’t know how to help out the cause. There’s also links to Earth Friendly products, how to green things in your life, statistics, and new information on ecosystem crisis. Come check it out, and please add any comments or feedbacks if you have any.

Everything around me looks fuzzy and blurry. Tears are running down my warm cheeks faster than rain drops sliding off windows during a thunderstorm. I’ve never been this mad before, at anyone. My brain is frozen, I can’t think. My tounge is tied, I can’t talk. My temper is rising, I can’t stop it. I explode, and a rush of words come out before my brain has even processed the words. I’m saying things that I’ll regret later, but I’m mad. I can’t shut up, so I turn around and run. The rhythem my feet make against the pavement makes me run faster. Faster! Faster! A voice inside my head screams. I listen to it, so I run faster and faster. I don’t know where I’m going. All I know is that I had to get away from there. I always run. I’m never brave enough to stand up to my problems. My problems don’t disapear because I go to another place, they catch up to me and are worse. When I feel as if I’d die, because I can’t breathe, I stop. My gray wifebeater is sweat covered, and my blue and black basketball shorts clinging to my legs. I look around. I’m in the middle of no where. I’m standing in a deserted road that’s deathly quiet. Strangely, the street is brightly lit. I turn around and behind be is dark, so I run forward. In 10 minutes, a bright spotlight is being aimed at me. “Who are you?” a familiar voice booms. I look around but I’m blinded by the bright lights. “Who are you?” the voice demands. “B–B-B!” I studder. “B what?” the voice booms again. “B-B-Bailey Eastman. Who are you?” I studder. “It’s six o’clock in the morning, why are you here?” the voice says. “What? The last time I checked it was 8!” I screamed up at the bright light. “How did you get here?” the voice asks. “I–” beep beep beep beep. “What’s that sound?” I wonder. ”You’re g–” beep beep beep. “What’s that–” beep beep beep “It’s –” beep beep beep beep beep beep beep! “B wake up! It’s 7:10! You’re going to be late for school! We’re leaving in twenty minutes!” a very loud, familiar voice says. This doesn’t sound like I’m dreaming, but its the exact same voice. “Bailey get up! E is down in the kitchen waiting for you!” the voice hollers. I feel something hit me. “What?” I wondered. I opened my eyes, and I was blinded my the sunlight flooding my room. I see my mom opening more of my ceiling to floor windows, then it hit me. I was half awake, the blinding light was the sun, and the booming voice was my mom. I touched my cheeks and they were slightly damp, then I look down at my outfit. I’m wearing a… limp gray wifebeater and blue and black basketball shorts?! Was that a dream? Was that real? What’s going on?  

My teacher, Mr.Mayo, told me to go check out his new online magazine, Space, that has writing from kids all over the world. I wasn’t that into reading the poetry that other students were writing, but I did it anyways. They actually turned out to be really interesting how everyone expresses their feelings in different forms of poetry. The four that were submitted on the Space magazine were all free verses, but the stanzas were all completely different. The four poems that I read were written by; Elizabeth, Rebecca, Andrea, and Veronica from Bronx, New York.

My Friends by Elizabeth

Elizabeth wrote a free verse poem, if it isn’t I’m sorry I didn’t see the rhyming pattern, about her best friends; Flordalis, Ashley and Arlene. In the poem she describes the times she hung out with them. She describes the times she has with them; like the things they talk about, laugh about, and how they are around each other. How they will make fun of their friend’s favorite artist, but in a friendly way. She describes how they’re different in their own way, but still are the closest friends can get.             I’m sure that there are others out there that have friendships like that. We all have friends, but it doesn’t mean that they have to be exactly like us. The differences will make us understand more about each other and will be better friends.

Life is like a Rocky Road by Rebecca

“Life is like a rocky road,  That is smooth, but has bumps, But I still choose to keep going”                 That’s an excerpt from Rebecca’s poem. Yes life is definitely rocky; it’s never perfect, it never always goes our way, there’s always something that happens. It can be smooth and perfect for a while, but then something happens because nothing in life is perfect. Just because we have rough patches we still keep going, I’m not going to go into the conversation about the rare groups of people. We don’t always get what we want, but the obstacles in the way will help us in one way or another. It’s interesting how she compared life to a rocky road, how there’s “traffic lights” that “block the road for hours” but “I try to be patient” gets you passed the obstacles.

Sisters by Andrea

Being an only child, I never understood exactly how my friends or cousin felt when they were talking about their siblings. Some loved their siblings to death, while others were always complaingin about how much their siblings are always on the nerves. Andrea obviously loves her sister, and from her words in the poem I’m guessing it’s her older sister. “Sisters protect you when you are in a fight
Sisters make you laugh when you are sad” is a quote from her poem. Andrea and her sister must be close to each other, and are probably each other’s best friend. If Andrea doesn’t have a sister, it must be what she imagines an older sister is like. Either way it’s a nice poem.

Fridays by Veronica

 Veronica describes her Friday; the day that she woke up extra late, stayed home, cleaned her room, and later hung out with her friend. A free verse that summed up her day. Nice. Clear. Being in middle school, it’d be nice to sleep in on a school day, not wake up at 6:30 to get ready. It’d be nice if we had one day off, and were allowed to sleep in and just hang out with friends. But I guess that’s what Saturdays are for, and special three day weekends, oh snow days! She definitely got down what most of us want to do on a Friday, especially a school day, “except the cleaning my room” part.

It was nice to see how teens from different places are putting their thoughts into poems. It’s a nice way of expressing our thoughts without having to write a lot. Because the poems are our thoughts, how we feel and such, whatever is written comes from one point of view. I’d like to hear more poems from students around the world, and see how we are alike and how we are different. 

Just to get this off my mind…

Nowadays all my friends seem to talk about;

Which is the newest shirt in their closet

What their crush did to make them pout

Which mall they’re planning to shop at

I’m sick of seeing girls act that way

They dress to impress the boys

It’s sad to see the youth in us fade away

We’re all growing up, some faster than others

If my friends hear or see me with a certain guy 

Who’s the closest guy friend I’ve ever had

They’ll come close, they don’t even try to spy

They want to catch every word and every action

I have a question no one seems to be able to answer

Why can’t I just be friends with my best guy friend

Without doing something against our better

Judgement, against what we don’t want to do?

My friend is the kind of guy that can make me

Laugh out loud, even when I’m really sad

We could not see each other for months, but be

The best of friends in an hour when we do

There is a game on the Many Voice for Darfur blog, and it was a virtual experience of what the refugees have to do to get water. The water pipe is very far away, and to go there, they are risking their life. I learned that:

• Men never go to the water source because if they are caught they are most likely going to be killed.
• Women routinely forage for water, firewood and food, but while an adult woman can carry a heavier load back to her family, she faces a grave risk of being abused or raped if she is caught.
• Girls face abuse, rape and kidnapping by the Janjaweed if she is caught.
• Boys are fast and agile, but if he is caught he can be abused, held captive, and could be killed if caught by the militias.

As I was playing the game, trying to reach the goal of the water fosset, everytime I got caught I felt this strange feeling. Sort of an emptiness and a feeling of sadness rush over me. I mean, I’m just playing the game, but it’s based on what really happens to the people in Darfur every single day. Just knowing what you face every day when you wake up is just a horrible thought. Although the caharacters are just animated, they represent real people. People that are risking their life to bring home a jug of water for their family, firewood for their fire, and food for them to stay clear of starvation. It just pains you to realize that this is a huge deal, I mean here people waste water like crazy, they take everything for granted. Try the game, and you’ll understand what I mean.

http://darfurisdying.com/