Class of ’16: The Stories of Us

Grade 7 English Ms. Andrews 2010-2011

Poets

Alice Bennett Aria Nicoletti Ashley Sowah Caroline Morrow Elizabeth McCauley Emma Pasqualino Francesca Matarese Gabriela Baron Georgia Jones Hannah Fitts Helary Gladstone Isabel Harrington Izzy Ackerman Jane Addington­May Jessica Purdy Katie Coggins Katrina Claflin Larissa Klufas Laura Davison Lilia Smyth Meghan Faria Meredith Brown Morgan Andrade Rachel Briden Renée Mackintosh Sarina Trant Sophia Theriault Sylvie Schneider Taylor Gunn From Here I Am, and There to Remain By Alice Bennett

I am from hats, and red lipstick tasting like celery. From 5:30 in the morning, groggy and tired, To 6:00 at night, sweaty from the machinery. I am from summers under the rhododendrons, and winters filled with Sibling’s laughter at new toys and trinkets. I am from those who don’t understand, and those who think they do. From the feel of sand as I walk alone on the beach, surrounded by others. The taste of blood as I lose a tooth, and from the combination of six perfumes.

I am from Mozart and Bach, pop and classical. I from metal strings, and face paint while I try to sit still on the plastic stool. From the wish to live another’s life, and the tears of knowing it shall not be. I am from fevers, and earaches, my face hot from throwing a tantrum in the snow. I’m from Thayer and George, and back again just to lose a few more pounds. The preppy, and the depressed am I from.

I am from refrigerator boxes, and pews, Talking to someone who others think is not there (They are just jealous the Voices only talk to me). I am from falling off swings, and deciding between purples, my room now Smelling of wet paint. I am from dreams of tomorrow, and waking up to today. A fistful of insults Ready to throw when she touches my stuff.

I am from embarrassment, and movie nights, teary‐eyed as she let’s me lean On her at the Disney movie. I am from locks, from indecisions, trying to fins the right lyrics, and then Putting them together. From F’s to A’s and back again, even though I studied. I am from giving and loving, and taking and hatred. All the imaginary ones that kept me company as I cried into my pillow “It’s not fair!”

I am from campfires, and fireworks, as I get on my tiptoes to give him amiss On the cheek goodbye. From windy, salty Caribbean afternoons, and the straightened I have yet to give back. I am from homework, and the frustration when I can’t get that math problem. The feel of soft skin, as she grabs my hand, afraid to let go, and the mom who asks me to Baby‐sit again soon! I am from goodbyes, and crestfallen faces, when they score the winning goal.

From keyboards, and garbage in the backpack pocket. (I still haven’t gotten around to emptying that.) I am from down the rabbit hole, to nights spent at Nanni and Poppi’s house up all night Alone, reading the books my mom loved as a child.

I am from paranormal activity, and the stage‐lights bearing down on me as I try to Remember my lines. I am from losing things, and the clothes my mom let me go through and keep. I am from the beginning, so much left to say, so much left unsaid. From the questions you might want to ask, and the answers you need to receive. But it’s okay, because I was here at my beginning, And I’ll be here, Until, My end.

Peace, Love, Aria By Aria Nicoletti

I am from sparkles and from pink. From that little, white, stuffed kitten That waits for me on my pillow at night. I am from eggplant. From French fries and from sweets. I am from icicles, That never dripped on me, But all around me.

I am from brown eyes and from tan skin. From that curly hair that everyone thinks is pretty, except me. I am from that one trip I take to Cape Cod every year. From seeing who can smell the ocean first, To hearing the waves crash on the beach. I am from Please and from Thank You, From try your best and from work hard.

I am from clothes. From dresses and leggings, to skirts and tanktops. I am from fuzzy socks that make my feet smile. I am from accessories. From earrings and pocketbooks, To hair bows that fit perfectly in my hair like a key in a lock. I am from that pop of color that gives me a flare. From that fab in all the drab. From that splash in all darkness.

I am from music. From Arias and from show tunes. From pop and from country. I am from acting and singing. From that one moment when you are the one everyone else is looking at. I am from that day you achieve that goal. From when you feel like you can do anything. From when you are a star.

No Matter What By Ashley Sowah

I come from a house in Cranston, with two parents , a brother , and a grandmother. I come from always listen to my mom telling me to do my homework.

From opening my eyes and seeing my mom and dad standing over me. I come from not being able to do anything , to doing what ever my parents let me.

I feel the bumpy scaliness of the bandage around my head , like I feel the bumpy scaliness of a basketball, as I dribble down the court.

I’m from oatmeal with crackers, from skirts and dresses. I’m from without glasses to with glasses , and my brother calling me four eyes , but no matter what I am still from a house in Cranston.

Where Carl’s From By Caroline Morrow

I am from Dum Dums and Tootsie Pops Where no one knows how many licks It takes to get to the center.

I am from the loud screams Of carnivals, The inspiration to make you Go crazy.

I am from Super Mario and Halo, Where I press random buttons To see where it takes me. My destination is usually GAME OVER .

I am from the Cookie Monster, That changed into the Veggie Monster Without telling me. I am from Tele Tubbies and Yo Gabba Gaba, the shows That creep me out but Are always on my mind.

I am from Play‐ Doh cakes That were fun to play with and eat!

I am from dental floss, The strange string my dentist Told me to use but got so tastey I just sucked on it.

I am from Carl, The name that stuck Like a sticker on my forehead.

I am from Signs that say DO NOT TOUCH! I am from the past years And the next years And the years that I’m gone. But I know I am remembered Through this tiny poem.

Through My Life By Elizabeth McCauley

I am from Norfolk, Massachusetts Where every day, I come home to sweet‐smelling laundry detergent. Where there is love, family, and kindness.

I am from Windridge. Where new friendships are made. Where sunscreen is needed 24/7. Where its hard not to plug your nose, while walking past the horse barn. Where kids go to have the summer of their lives.

I am a Vermonter. Where in the winter, skiing is a necessity for me. Where in the summer, you sit by the ice‐cold river. Where the mountains go sky high, and the stars, on a clear night, are like wishes waiting to be wished on. Where family time is spent and there is a house full of laughter, love, and kindness, once again.

I am a skier. Where we smell the sweet waffles from the waffle house from the moment you get on the chair lift, from the moment you ski down. Where the snow are crystals glistening in a jewelry store. Where some of the most hilarious and exciting moments in my life have happened.

I am from the past memories and I am from the future. I don’t dwell on the past and I don’t fear what’s coming. I have wonderful memories from the past and I look forward to what’s coming in future.

Memories… By Emma Pasqualino

I am from the pain and happiness of family, the shouting of Italians and smell of Italian food. I am from hearing amazingly funny stories, and all the laughs we share with each other every day.

I am from hearing sisters fight and the slamming of doors after, then their making up an hour or two later.

I am from that feeling of riding a bike for the first time, and falling off it soon after while my sister laughs at me, then we all join in.

I am from my first play and the the curtains open and you have butterflies in your belly when all eyes are on you and the rush you feel in saying your first solo line ever!

I am from helping pick out Sara's first dog with Alice and knowing how happy Sara was when she says, "that one's perfect!" and seeing the look on her face that I will never forget.

I am from waking up one morning and having no idea that the next thing I would see is my dog’s head in a pitbull’s mouth, and my other dog fighting it off, even knowing something is going to happen to him. Then being so happy when Simon and Salvy came home from the hospital.

I am from taking care of my cat Reese’s kittens And feeling little cat tongues on my fingers when I finish petting them.

I am from meeting my very first best friend, then years after feeling that pinch of sadness when she says "Goodbye."

I am from making nice and extraordinary new friends at Robert .J. Coelho Middle School.

I am from January 13th, 2011. The morning my grandfather Passed away, and hearing my father say to his brother and sister, “Our family started out as 6, now there are only 3 of us left.”

I am from Christmas, when Lori, Sara, and I went to Auntie Brianne’s house and played Catchphrase, and hearing my team chant, “Emma gonna win, Emma gonna win!” And being so happy that we are having so much fun, (Even though we didn’t win.)

And finally, I am from feeling so lucky that I have so many people around that love me and who are helping me make new memories each day.

Those Moments By Francesca Matarese

I am the smell of seaweed, washed up upon the shore. Where you can taste the salt, from the aroma of the bay. Where you can browse through millions of cracked, smashed, or perfect shells. Where you can run across black stones, that seem to go on forever. I am my first concert Where I heard the loud, pounding beat of Adam Lambert’s voice. Where I saw dancing glitter, falling from the sky as if it was raining. Where Carl and I wore the most quixotic clothing. Where we smelled the strong, bitter‐sweet smell of adult beverages. I am that day, When I decided I didn’t like swans anymore. Where I held on to that bread scrap too long and didn’t let go till I felt that swans eager bite. Where I was three, living there before my sister was born. Where life was somewhat calm and attention‐filled.

I am that most memorable trip to Florida. Where I tasted the traditional Italian food‐ chicken parmesan, lasagna, pasta, and pizza‐ that filled the table. Where I heard the varying noises of the Mario Kart. Where all my attention was on petting the dog and trying to solve my uncle’s puzzle rings. Where I tried my hardest to impress my older cousins. Where I learned how to ice skate. I am the online world. Where I see the character’s, battling for the only life they know of. Where I feel the cold, untouched keys of my keyboard. Where I write and wait for a response. Where I can instantly become and emotion, with the click of a button. I am where I learned how to snowboard. Falling, tumbling, and getting back up again. Where I fly over mounds of snow, zooming past other people, or sometimes, quite the opposite. Where I feel the embarrassment as I fall, right in front of someone, or on someone. Where I look down from so high up and feel the strange feeling that fills your chest. Where I feel it in the morning.

I am my grandmother’s funeral, which brought so many familiar faces and voices that came from around the country. Where I made so many new memories that will be with me forever. Where I learned what was happening in around the world, like gossip about new stores opening up or loud neighbors. Where I tasted just about every type of pumpkin dish‐ pumpkin seeds, pumpkin guts, pumpkin soup. Where I watched my cousin practice for his future reporter job; video taping the reception. Where I watched my older cousin lift my other cousin and spin her around. I am my room, Where I feel the warm and welcoming blankets That cover me like a sheet of snow. Where I lay, accompanied by my cat as he licks my hand, with his warm, rough tongue. Where I have endless hours of thinking about friends, family, school, or that upcoming dance. Where I hear the varying genres of music blasting. Where I hear the boom, boom, boom of the bass. Then I hear the tap, tap, tap of someone at my door. Probably going to nag about the volume level…. Well, at least they knocked.

I am those days, Those moments, That can never be taken away. These special moments are what fill my Head and my heart. These are the moments that make up my life.

Welcoming Waters By Gabriela Baron

I am from the sticky, sea salt air welcoming me back, from the long winter. I am from scorching grains of sand sifting through my toes, molding to my being like play dough in a baby’s hand. I am from an infinite summer that’s more than just vacation. I am from endless stretchy cheese taunting my taste buds for just one more bite.

I am from “Cousin Palooza” no‐ sleep sleepovers, and all you can eat breakfasts. I am from the temporary world of X‐box 360’s and PSP’s. I am from pink tu tu’s and kelly green plaid, encircling me like nursery friends playing ring‐around the rosy.

I am from Good Night Moon and lullabies. I am from daddy’s juicy kisses and mama’s snuggly hugs. I am from a hundred ladybugs trained as faithful pets. I am from eager hellos and sad goodbye’s the chatty social butterfly.

I am from dreidels and mistletoe, chocolate gelt and candy canes. I am foot‐stomping salsa running through my veins, shaking Shakira’s hips. I am from the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans blending, swirling, racing to greet me at Narragansett pier.

Home By Georgia Jones

I am from music. I am from concerts, from flute and saxaphone lessons, family karaoke, and guitars on the beach. I am from glee club, whether it’s Mr Schuesters room, or Mr Peters’.

I am from my grandparents house, from the rush of cold water as I jump in the pool, the freshly cut grass peeking through my fingers as I cartwheel across the backyard. From the owl hooting outside the window.

I am from Glastonbury, from the screaming fans, the pounding music, and the flags waving in the air, like colored clouds, floating across the sky.

I am from airports. From the arrivals gate, and the departures gate. Crying when we say hello. Crying when we say goodbye.

I am from home. I am from my old home, my new home, my friends’ home, my family’s home, and from a caravan filled with friends.

But most of all, I am from, number two, Wenlock Close, Mickleover, Derby, England.

Puzzle Pieces By Hannah Fitts

I am from the water close up around me, as I plunge deep towards the sandy rocks. I am from the bugle signaling awakening of 200 girls.

I originated from the golden‐pink sunset I saw, looking down from of what felt like the top of the world, as I wrap my warm fingers‐ the size of mini seashells‐ around the cold snow to form my first snowball which I then throw off into the distance.

I am from the fresh, crunchy, green, juicy cucumber, from the bursting blueberry squirting out juice, coating my mouth. From the stench of the rotting moose, R.I.P. Tacky. I am from the mountains, from the sunflowers golden with sun, beaming down at me like Jack and the Beanstalk.

I am from the big, red, dust‐filled, sleepy eyes, peeking out behind the washing machine. From the rolling purr to the long whiskers, tickling my elbow, as my six‐week‐old bundle of fur nuzzles up against my chest, his heart beating, his slow breathing.

I am from the pink petals, springtime’s gift, falling into my hair, blown from the wind, and smoke rising from the grill.

I am from the Band Aides, scrapes, legs bruised like a cantaloupe, due to my excess energy I had as a child.

I am from the dreamers and the optimists. And I am from the past moments and the future dreams piecing together my puzzle of life.

Family, Trips, and Summer Camp By Helary Gladstone

I am from playing in the backyard and listening to Justin Bieber music. I am from going on Disney World Trips and going to New York City. From cotton candy and Super Bowl parties at my Uncle’s house and from his delicious cooking. From watching my brother fall off his bike like a tree being cut down. To staying at my Mom’s house on weekdays. From Peanut one and Peanut four.

I am from a European country where life is much different. I am from cold barren land to sweet smelling flowers. From dancing and singing to Soccer on Saturdays and Ice Skating in the morning. From JCDS and wanting to be like my brother. From taking risks to banging on pots and pans to try to make a beat.

I am from my dogs and my cats to my dangerous stunts done when I was younger. The boy’s camping trip in the summer to my brother’s bike racing accidents. From breaking my ankle at Wheeler Camp to Hiking Mt. Katahdin and Mt. Washington at Wavus and everyone embarrassing me at fireworks.

I am from bonding with my Father, Smelling the pretzels at hockey games with my Uncle. From going to my Aunt’s for Thanksgiving, Getting Justin Bieber for Hanukkah and hearing billions of screaming girls. Reading Garfield at my Aunt’s house in Maine and finishing one book in 2 hours. Playing World of Warcraft and Sims to falling off the horse and cooking pasta for breakfast. I am from the family trips and doing art on my wall and This is where I’m from.

I am from Swimming By Isabel Harrington

I am from Swimming

Feel of the cold water against my skin Rush of the finish. Feet kicking Arms pulling Racing

I am from Cheering

Remembering when it was her The chlorine scented air The cheering onlookers. Now it’s her cheering for me, Now it’s our thing, My mom and me

I am from Lacrosse

Looking at the green field Ball in my pocket Running Dodging Playing

I am from Sisterhood

How we are the same, How we are different. It doesn’t matter, we still love each other no matter what, ‘Cause we’re sisters.

I am from Squash

On the court Racket in hand Little ball thrown ahead, Ready to serve, Ready to win.

I am from Bonding

Father and daughter, Anytime we can, Playing, Talking, Working, Together

I am from Skiing and wakeboarding

Water all around me, Cold as can be, I don’t mind because I will soon be skiing wind in my face, having a blast.

I am from Family

Whether it is the grandfather I miss oh so much, The crazy grandma, Lovable grandpa, Annoying sisters, Or my amazing Parents, The games we play, They are who I am, Where I am from, And what made me, Me

Mismatched Me By Izzy Ackerman

I am from the freshly cut, Fields blooming with bright, Eye‐ popping poppies. From the shrieks of tickle fights with my brothers, And from the old, red chair sat on by my great grandmother.

I am from all animals, Say no more. I am from pipe cleaner crafts and My beloved glue gun.

I am from the tree house. The only tree house completely Covered in oatmeal, Water, Rice , flour and other things to make my “Potions”.

I am from the popcorn stuck in the Cracks of the seats in the mini van. I am from my stuffed animal pigs, Piggy and Clara . From the steamy, moist couscous, Made by my lovely old babysitter.

I am from panda Webkinz, Cherry Twizzler strips, And % 70 dark chocolate, From “ Ocean State Job Lot”. I am from Sponge Bob, Band aids, And knowing how to Spell “ Blue”.

I am from Henwy, Sammy, And Maxy And the advice they gave me that helped me find my way to today. My Papa, Who aids me and all of us as an inspiration. “Maman” my supporter and my map who helps guide me through my life.

I am from baking with my Mom, And recklessly adding chocolate Chips to her banana bread.

I am from “Rats’ nests hair, To confusion and fear.

I am from when the best thing was, “ Go Fish” to “ Hide and Go Seek”. And when the worst was, The newspaper or flu shots.

I am from when Five minutes was, Five hours and When we were never Six or seven, we were always Six and a half or seven and a quarter.

I am from Wayland Square, Homesick Letters from Canada, And Hamster funerals. From learning how to say [NOO‐YORK] And “ certificate”. From questions and the Indian quilt by my bed. To eating bean salad with that metal spoon.

I am from the sweet tooth, To the dentist chair.

I am from the rain puddles filled with sloshy snow. I am from the imaginary games and playdates. To The “Ding” on the tollhouse cookie timer.

I am from my early days at the French American School, To today at Lincoln. From the coloring books, And crayons To chapter tests, And number 2 pencils.

I Am From Mismatched socks to Mismatched socks.

I Am of Diversity By Jane Addington‐May

I am of fog, fog that covers the ground and fills the sky like blood on a battlefield Of the days of endless sun filled rain And of mountings covered in white dust

I am of blistered feet and stubborn persistence, Of wooden floors covered in food made scratches. Of brightly lit stages and cramped dressing rooms

I am of rumors and cliché social groups. Out casts and people who think the world revolves around them. Subtle exclusion, Generic personalities, boring and normal, the height of dullness.

I am of sunsets and clear starry skies, of air filled with the scent of wild flowers, of cool waters flowing over your hands and feet, Soothing and relaxing you.

I am of pounding rhythms, Rejected songs and head hurting eclectic currents. Bass and drums, lyrics that’ll bring tears to your eyes. Of the small group of metalheads, (Some call us freaks) Who I’m proud to call my friends.

I am of all the joys and sorrows. They have made me, And they will break me. All the different side of me and my life have made me who I am today. They will stay with me, Reminding me of who I am.

Those Special Times By Jessica Purdy

I am from the almost irreplaceable thrill of playing with two simple objects, an opponent, and some rules. Letting go of the fuzzy, bright yellow ball, and watching it fly up in the air. Bringing up my racket to meet it with the perfect touch, and sprinting to my position on the blue carpeted court, ready to play. It's amazing that a game could mean as much to me as it does. The game of tennis.

I am from vanilla cupcake‐scented candles, and homemade, fudge brownies. Wavy, dark brown hair and brown eyes. Late night Boston Celtics games with dad, and the fuzzy, brown, monkey that used to come everywhere with me. The things from my childhood that I will never let go of.

I am from the cool winter days watching snowflakes fall from the sky, each one unique and like no other as if they were each their own person, as they delicately place themselves on the bare branches of trees, and as I sit, with a warm cup of hot chocolate and marshmallows, and watch this beautiful scene happen right in front of me.

I am from capturing moments, with pictures or just my memory, and keeping them with me through the good, and the bad. And hopefully they will be passed on or even inspire new moments to come.

Photos on the Wall By Katie Coggins

I am from days at the beach The sun hot on my face The wet sand oozing between my toes The foamy waves rising above my chest, taking my breath away Walks on the dunes, shells cutting my feet as they slide with each step

I am from pruney fingertips to burned shoulders Singed like pancakes left on the stove a little too long At the summer house, after treating my pink skin with cool aqua blue aloe We sit at the picnic table eating juicy summer corn and ketchup covered grilled burgers We wait on the creaky 300‐year‐old stairs for a dark starry night, Perfect for man hunt

I am from summers at my grandmother’s house and R.V. Some days it’s sunblock‐soaked skin while doing underwater handstands in the pool Some days it’s traveling to Vermont in their R.V. With every bump we hear the dishes in their cabinets jump The fireworks everywhere else are for the Fourth of July But in front of my grandmother’s house, the sizzling sparklers making the air smell like Smoke, are for her birthday Equally as important

I am from Colleen and Tim From the books like Corduroy they read me late at night To the warm glasses of milk on a sleepless night Scented candles burning all year round Christmas tree for winter Flowers for spring Ocean breeze for summer And apple cinnamon for fall A water bubbler gurgles by the back door and a stove crackling in the corner A dog barking and a cat purring

I am from elevator operators and factory workers to doctors and bankers, nurses, Teachers, and engineers From framed pictures on a wall in a damp basement To vacation memories in an old photo album Collecting dust in a closet next to a child’s toys and a few story books The camera clicks Another photo on the wall

I Came From By Katrina Claflin

I came from cliffs and the musky smell of home, From the quest house and a freezing lake too deep to stand in. I came from the maze inside a cruise ship and giant ugly trolls, From skiing down jagged mountains and hot chocolate.

I came from the tumbleweeds of dog fluff and wagging tails, From fire and sister moments. I came from an off key voice singing me to sleep and trampolines. I came from a boring church and sweet smelling lilies.

I came from colorful posters and gossip and what ifs, From fashion and loud hallways right after class is let out. I came from best friends and worst enemies, From green man skirts and old fashioned desks.

I came from shock and surprise, From torn emotions jagged as border lines and long road trips. I came from dusty plains and mushroom rocks, From a green winter and a red harmonica.

I came from two lost grandfathers and a far away grandmother, From a plane crash and a thirteen year old boy running a house hold. I came from savings bonds and meaningless cards, From home backed goods and frustrated sisters.

I came from two sisters reading to me and then only one, From a sterile and white hospital. I came from an out of place nail and a toy vacuum cleaner, From a little girl in a black and red Flamenco dress and summer camp. I came from sobbing and hugging.

I came from spoons and B.S., From cousins, aunts, and uncles. I came from a German friend and a finished basement, From mixed voices and ancient tunes.

I came from love and hate and friends and foes. I came from “Moms” and “Dads” and French and Spanish. I came from Jess and her German friend and Grandma and Aunt Joan. I came from was, is, and will be. I came from moments stuck in my head and two family trees.

All The Above By Larissa Klufas

I am from cats Purring bundles of fur From hospital beds, overly sanitized That the smell ironically, Makes you sick to your stomach Miles of forests before me And miles of dirt and rock below me I am from shiny wrapping paper As if bathed In glitter glue

I am from ‘wickeds’ and ‘hang‐ons’ From Friskies to wearing T‐shirts and shorts In the summer as if I didn’t have any other clothes I am from the last shriveled grapes no one wanted And having the overwhelming jagged mountains hanging over me head

I am from squeezing my mom’s hand Until there isn’t a drop of blood left in either of ours’ And screaming sometimes just for fun And sometimes because it was needed From the Sundays when the Patriots play And the Saturdays where nobody wants to move I am from long lines and broken bones Celebrating each year when the tree gets stronger

I am from “the spinny game” and tubby toast Sparkly chandeliers and socks with a toe sticking out The attempted flowers every April And the hot chocolate in the summer I am from All the Above I Am from Everywhere By Laura Davison

I am from a small city, And a small town With hot summers And cold winters

I am from a camp A cold one in Canada That smells so bad A smell you dread But over time you join, Where you canoe From sun up to sun down For fun

I am from Hot Saint Louis To mountainous Montana To the thin air of Colorado Where my cousins live And I go to visit them

I am from Bruises and Bumps From falling down To cuts and scrapes And bleeding knees I am from Lincoln School Where I learn and Spend most of my time, Hitting piñatas and Learning the pledge of Allegiance in Latin

I am from a old, big and Sometimes boring church Where we sleep in Flimsy, old cardboard Boxes on the Coldest night of the year Where we share our Highs and lows and Smell the great smell Of doughnuts on Sunday

I am from the snow On a snowboard Going down the mountain Feeling the fresh cool Breeze in my face For only a second And then I Tumble down The mountain My body following The snowboard like A cat chasing a mouse

I am from the snow On skis Where instead of Tumbling down The mountain And feeling the nice breeze For only I second I feel it all the way down The mountain And I am ready to go Up again And that is were I’m from

The Memories That Built Me By Lilia Smyth

I am from darkness, from falling autumn leaves, And rain clouds. I am from Mom’s sad eyes as she remembers her little girl.

I am from light, from the hope of faith. From the praises in my songs. I am from joyous dancing on Sunday afternoons, From the tears I shed in prayer, From the love of the Lord.

I am from bare feet on the blacktop, From jump ropes Slapping the hot ground, keeping a steady rhythm as I skip. I am from ice cream cones, and melting fruity popsicles. From the sweet summer breeze.

I am from stage lights, brighter than the sun, From capezio tights and aqua net, From elaborate costumes and heavy makeup, From smiles and frowns. I am from lines and lyrics, From fan mail and autographs, I am from my dreams.

I am from Judy + Vada Lily + Callie Hands held and hearts linked Never to be separated. I am from laughter and nail polish, tag and hide and seek. From Fuzzy and Woofers, Yogi and Booboo, From all the secrets we shared.

I am from love From support From Smyth From O’Brien From gray and green From a cold stone hearth And a hot burning stove. From forest green carpets And the pile of vibrant sneakers And dark loafers And fluffy slippers And very high heels. From the orange dog And the red couch.

I am from “And now these three remain: faith, Hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love.” My verse Red pencil Underlining the powerful words.

I said: “You’ll see her again soon, when it’s your turn to go to heaven.” She said: “but that’s too long to wait.” Her words touched me. So much wisdom from a child of seven years.

These are the things that shaped me, The things that lead me to where I stand. That made me who I am. These things will take me places And show me who I will become.

I Am Who I AM By Meghan Faria

I am from the silence Of loneliness & the shrill Of laughter. I am from the quantity Of supportive my family & the quality Of my trustworthy friends.

I am from the softness Of a rose petal & the strength of its stem. I am from the love of Justin Bieber & the jealousy Of the girls in his life.

I am from the sand between my toes to the ocean splashing on the shore. I am from the sparkles & gems on Taylor Swift’s dress to Abercrombie & Fitch.

I am from teamwork & leadership as if I am the captain. I am from the kick of winning & the tears of defeat.

No Title, Just Me By Meredith Brown

I am from markers. From night and day with the ever present intersection lighting the way for everyone when and where they go. I am from swings and pushes. From getting dizzy under stars. From feeling small and big.

I am from Tigger and stuffed animals that seemed to animate whenever my dad was around. From the smell of nail polish remover, full of foul chemicals. I am from bruises, like blueberries blotched on my skin. From the loud dishwasher, a live band in our kitchen.

I am from hearing words that shock and seeing things I was oblivious to. I am from the pink door, the only one on our floor and inspiration and reality and seeing them fuse together as I touch the piano, the center, of what we are all connecting around.

I am from stuttering and balancing, from the cooling/burning substance. I am from Jelly Belly Original and Ice‐Cream Parlor jelly beans whether it’s one at a time or a mishmash of flavors that all end up as one. I am from laughing at nothing and everything. From the smell of burnt popcorn and cramps of homesickness. From being shy and bold and saying I didn’t turn down that snowboarding hill because I didn’t want to.

I am from short hair and drawing triangles on the margins of my history notebook. From reading in bed when I should be asleep and waking up early to start the day. I am from warmth and hugs. From static electricity and sheets. From lights and yellow.

From Wonderbread and ducks (one looked like a seagull and the other had a green neck) and long showers. I am from trying to be with the latest trends to going with the flow. And math facts with my grandpa and jump‐roping with my grandma, singing songs as she spun and I jumped. From wrestling with my brother and seeing him go off to college. From wanting to leave this insanely small place to longing for home.

I am from frustration and anxiety from happiness and creating bakeries, stories, and towns on the shore and water.

I am....I am..from all these things I am from me.

I Am From My Friends and Family By Morgan Andrade

I am from my friends and watching videos on YouTube, from personal jokes, funny faces, and laughter. I am from sleepovers, and staying up late on the computer. I am from hearing the screams of people around me at my first haunted house from the blood‐covered face man who taunted me in the waiting room.

I am from playing spy with my cousins on hot summer days, from running outside tripping, falling, and getting nasty bruises and from my baby bottle getting covered in ants. I am from my dog, Campbell, when he smiles, and gets the mail.

I am from The Twilight Saga from Edward, and vampires. I am from blue raspberry cotton candy, and Ronzio's cheese pizza, from my moms chocolate chip cookies baking in the oven.

I come from my time share in the Bahamas, from the excitement of getting a different colored bracelet ever day, and all the familiar slides growing bigger and bigger each year. I am from ice skating on New Years Eve feeling the wind on me as I go faster and faster.

I am from playing soccer in the wet grass, running and kicking the ball, aiming at the goal. I am from playing with "The Mystery Substance" in science class back in 6th grade.

I am from my memory box from all the memories it holds like an Ipod holds songs.

I am from my friends and family.

I Am Rachel Elizabeth Briden By Rachel Briden

I am from the beach, from Barbies to boogie boards. I am from the traditions of my family, like dinner at The Old Canteen every Saturday night. I am from the sand of the desert in Syria.

I am from piggy‐tails and princess chapstick, from Cheerios to Kit‐Kat bars. I am from the picture book, "Are You My Mother?", which was like a movie running through my head. I am from the delicious smelling s'mores, under the starry night while camping. I am from "learn from your mistakes" and "study, study, study!" I am from the soccer players and the lacrosse players.

I am from loud music, like the top 100 on 92.3.

I am from the old traditions of Syria where electricity and running water goes out for three or four hours a day. I am from the old pictures with memories that fill my mind.

I am from Central Falls to Rumford. I am from "the garden central"of Rumford, near the MJF park and the Sunshine creamery, my favorite places in Rumford!

I am now from cell phones, Gmail, Facebook, and Skype.

But some things never change, like how I am from a family, with joy, love, and guidance that can not only describe where I am from, but also, who I am.

My Two­State Life By Renée Mackintosh

I am from Massachusetts, But born in Newport Rhode Island. I am from those giggles you hear On the street, And those happy smiles waiting to be shared.

I come from a neighborhood full of friends, That hang out with me in the day But become party animals at night.

I am from long adventurous journeys, And far travelers who make the greatest discoveries you could ever imagine. I come to ice state In weather so cold your knees go blue.

I come from my pool And the flowers in my Ma’s flower beds. I am from my cute cuddly Gentle pet cats who can purr me to sleep at night. I am from my mother’s Canadian And father’s Irish culture with a long line of marriages And almost no divorces. I am from my mother’s side of the family With my sweet French pastry desserts.

I am from the shoppers you see on rainy days, Having a nice hot cup of cocoa. I am part of a bunch of crazy drama queens. I am also a part of Lincoln School With their long homework assignments. I am from I gluing‐electronic and those beautiful Star filled nights.

The experiences I have had in these two states make me, Who I am today.

Year Round By Sarina Trant

I am from New England, Where seasons change From flowers blooming To leaves falling

Where the bright sun smiles down at me And beckons me to go out. I am from spending each of these wonderful moments With my family I am from the cool autumn breeze, Blowing and swirling the colorful leaves around. Making me want to go out and play in them.

Where the bitter cold air takes my Breath away and the sparkling snowflakes fill me with awe. Never is one snowflake the same as i watch them fall From the sky.

I am from the warm spring day, That turns the snow to rain and begs the beautiful flowers To awaken from the warming earth.

I am from flowers blooming, To leaves falling. I am from the seasons I am from New England

Those Special Places By Sophia Theriault

I am from white snow that looks good enough to eat, from the love and comfort of my family. From mint hot chocolate and marshmallows as big as snowballs. The scent of turkey dinner on Thanksgiving. I am from the laughter and happiness around the fireplace. I am from capturing special unique moments with my eyes. From the exhausting five‐hour car ride.

I am from the magic surrounding me, from the bright, sparkling eyes of Disney characters waiting to hug me. From the amazing hot fudge sundae in Cinderella’s castle. I am from the imagination and thrill of the colorful, loud fireworks. I know I’m at somewhere special because I can’t stop smiling like a sixteen year old getting a fancy, new car. From the swan lake boat ride that smells like fresh, homemade vanilla ice cream. I am from the small lopsided house with a souvenir for me to take home.

I am from the heavy camping bag on my back, from setting up small, bug‐infested tents. I am from gross puke‐smelled porta potties. Warmth and happiness as we roasted marshmallows that resembled old wrinkly men. I am from the annoying chatter and juicy gossiping from my tent‐mates, from homesickness and cold tears running down my face. I am from the blurry vision of freshly‐squeezed orange juice and cinnamon raisin bagels in the morning. Riding uncomfortable, muddy bikes through the trails until we see a glistening blue lake. I am from getting into a soaking, freezing canoe, from learning how to row and getting stuck in a goopy, moldy tree trunk. I am from the suspense and excitement of finding out if you’re on the green or white team. I am from saying goodbye to basil‐like trees and stepping onto the bus as we drive away from another place I call home.

I am from opening the squeaky, tan door leading into the relaxing condo on the Gulf of Mexico. I am from sliding down the dark, long, twisted slide, then splashing so hard into the pool it hurts. From watching the salmon‐colored sunset in front of the Mucky Duck. Feeling the squishy, warm sand between my toes like putting tissues in between your toes after a pedicure. I am from my grandma and I looking for perfect, detailed seashells while creating a special moment. I am from seeing birds like pelicans diving into the sparkling water to catch breakfast. From walking with my parents along the endless beach. I am from smelling fresh hot dogs and mouth‐watering hamburgers from Joey’s floating food emporium, and watching musical movies with my grandparents even when it’s past midnight. I am from going out to dinner and having the coldest, iciest, juiciest mango sorbet At the Bubble Room. I am from stepping out of the condo, walking down the steps, and getting in the car and driving away.

Even though I don’t live in any of these places, they are special because they are home. I am from home. I am from not just random places, I’m from special places I will never forget like a child never forgetting its first rollercoaster. Even when I know I have to leave, I know I’ll come back some day because these places are pieces of me.

My Life By Sylvie Schneider

I’m from he said, she said From, “Your mother said this” And “You agree with me right?” I am from steamy, hot, eggplant and healthy steamed broccoli, I’m from a life like a wave, It rises up and crashes back down, but does it for a special reason.

I’m from Peanut One and Peanut Two, From sweet sugar cookies, frosted with pink icing, And Johnson and Johnson baby soap. I am from “Say it again, but this time louder”. I am from Jacob Shecter, The Kindergarten bully, Who is like a boomerang; you toss it, But it always comes back.

I am from crazy spandex, and frilly tutus, From kosher food and bunk cheers that never get quiet. I am from short shorts, bright neon tank tops, And Abercrombie perfume.

I am from obnoxious fist pumping, coffee grinding, And ‘too close’ slow dancing. I’m from sweet smelling, steaming to minute showers, With people yelling at you because they want to get in. I come from tears, laughter, and a little craziness, That shakes up my life and make me who I am.

Where? By Taylor Gunn

I am from blue bubblegum in Alabama airports. From sprinklers in the summer, on a hot day in Austin, the first snow, on a cold day in pre‐school. I’m from swimming on Saturday mornings, and tubing in the cold, in Maine. From Sun River Oregon, with water beating down on my shoulders.

From chicken pox, made of permanent markers, and falling off jet skis, into frigid river water. And inner tubes floating in the ocean, like Fruit loops in a bowl of milk.

I’m from talent shows at the Cape, and dinner prayers at “da Ranch”. From Providence, Austin, and California.

From Montague and Ellen, and Lucy the crab. From Robert and Beatrice, and sandcastles in Hilton Head. I’m from a little pink footprint blanket, and from floor three.