I felt my mom's suburban roll to a stop as I looked out the window to see my new school. My first day of freshman year and my parents decided to move the summer before. Of course.

I rushed out of the car in a blur (trying not to attract any attention to myself), and heard my mom’s goodbye echo in the background. I swung my backpack over my shoulder and did my best to not trip over my own two feet as I headed into my new school.

The school was old and kind of a faded grey stone…


I heard a Birds wings flap — when I swam

The Crashing of the Waves

Was like the howling in the Air

Between the Gusts of Wind

The gazes around — had rendered them useless-

And Laughs were gathering firm

For that last Wave — when the Parents

Had said — it’s time to go -

I watched by Sandcastles — Washed away

What parts of me be

Gone — and then it was

There was a Bird -

With Grey — repetitive flapping strokes -

Between the air — and me -

And then the Car door opened —…


I read I heard a fly buzz by Emily Dickinson, and I think the POV and voice work together interestingly in this short piece. Because the piece is so short, Dickinson has to get her point across very quickly, and although it takes some analyzing, I think she does. Dickinson writes in the first point of view, and seems to be writing on her deathbed about what she feels and sees before she dies. I like how Dickinson writes simply, yet vividly describes how calms she feels before dying, overall an interesting piece that one could not easily write.


Seashore — The Red Wheelbarrow by William Carlos Williams, 1923

like perfect clockwork

waves

crash the sea

shore

under the moon

from

sunrise to sunset

Friendship — The Red Wheelbarrow by William Carlos Williams, 1923

a lifelong necessity

to

have a friend

ship

though all different

but

friends are treasures

I thought Williams’ poem would be the most interesting to emulate because it is so short, so there is not much room for error. I also felt that I could pay more attention to his specific writing style because of its length, from the types of words to the punctuation…


I think it is incredibly interesting how everyone interprets things differently. Everyone has their own perspective on life, and the things that happen within it, that shape them as a person. Two people may go through the same experience/see the same thing, but for some reason, they have two very different interpretations, maybe because of a past experience they’ve had, or maybe it’s just how their brain perceives things. Some people will also take things more literally, while others take things more abstractly, and knowing how they perceive things will help you understand and communicate with them better.


Test prep. We’ve all done it. ACT, SAT, PSAT, sometimes even subject tests. Some start in seventh or eighth grade, some don’t start until the summer before their senior year, but, until this year, nearly everyone seeking higher education did.

Let’s start at the beginning: why we need standardized tests in the first place. All students must take certain classes from their curriculum, some depend on state regulations, and some private or charter schools require even more classes or higher-level classes. Students will receive a grade in each class, some earn alphabetical grades, some earn a numerical grade, and some…


Writing is the freedom to express yourself however you want. Writing matters because it allows for anyone to express themself however they want.


I used to hate writing. I dreaded getting any kind of writing assignment from my teachers, even if only a few paragraphs. However, when I was a sophomore, the school I went to made us write essays regularly. I had five to ten essays each week, and some were up to five thousand words during certain drafts. Quickly, by being forced to write, I learned to embrace it, and since then, I have not dreaded it like I used to. Even though I now enjoy writing papers, I hate physically writing. I can type faster than I can write, and…


I think this author has an interesting take on her mother’s death. We tend just to believe doctors: even though they’re just people, like us. They make mistakes, and their mistakes can cause people their lives or their quality of life, and in Jenny’s case, it was her mother’s life. I think it is interesting how Jenny now questions doctors and their decisions, when so many people don’t, even when they should. For some reason, society has decided that doctors have a god-like complex, and therefore we must trust them with our lives when in reality, all they did was go through many years of learning and training, which arguably anyone could do. I liked this short story, it’s straight to the point, and I enjoyed how Jenny connected all the ways her mother’s death is still impacting her.


Quarantine was an interesting experience for me. The first few days were kind of a shock; it was weird to be hearing from all the different news sources, most of them conflicting with each other and not know what was going on. On the second weekend of spring break, my mom and I were supposed to go to Santa Barbara. However, we decided to cancel in case flights were shut down before we could get home, and school plans were still up in the air at this point. With my plans suddenly being canceled, I made the mistake of watching…

Cecilia Miller

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