Posts Tagged ‘stories’

For Me, Coming Back was the Same Thing as Failure…


24 Jul


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With The Great Bear Writing Project, I have been surprised over and over again. The new session has started, and in this one, I am practically in the class.

What I didn’t realize was how close to home the subject of this session would be. For me, can you say right on target? Rural Education.
 
I’m from a small town in South Arkansas, a town that was once booming until the paper mill shut down. After that, one by one houses went up for sale, people started either moving to a better place or going back to school so that they could move to a better place. What little there was to do for young people, died out too. I didn’t go to the public school in my home town. My mom wanted me to get a better education. Better education? Yes. But in the process of getting that better education I lost all ability to think for myself. Kindergarden through 12th grade is plenty of time to properly corrupt a kid. I probably shouldn’t say that.
The school that I went to was a Christian school. I have no problem with this, what I have a problem with is how every text book was told through a pair of “teach everyone that Christianity is the only way and the only good in the world” goggles. There was no room for change or evolving. Everything fit into the box.
When I came to college, can you say culture shock? That’s what it was. My first history class in college was hell, because I had to relearn everything. Because no matter what all my other teachers said, everything does not fit into the box, every other religion is not wrong or corrupt, and, believe it or not, there is always more than one side to any story.
 
So, I got a little off topic, but what I’m saying is that in my home town, the lack of excellency in rural education caused my mom to make the decision to give me a private education. I have friends that go everywhere though. I had friends in all of these schools. I have lived and existed in a dying and deprived community. I have seen the causes. And I have seen the products.
 
I have seen kids with zero drive to go anywhere or do anything. I have friends that way. I know first hand what failure looks like, and what failure can do to a person’s spirit. I have witnessed what life can be like for a child who has parents that didn’t succeed, and more importantly I’ve seen what this lack of success on one end has done to the success of the children.
 
What can we do? What do those of us in rural communities need to do to give children a chance for success and a reason to get out? Well, I’m still working on the answers, but at least I know the questions.

I Thought It Would Be Different…


19 Jul

 

My First Week as an Intern

 


The first day of my intern I was a complete bundle of nerves. I knew it was going to be a long and tiresome day, so I prepared myself in advance with as little sleep as possible due to the fact that my nerves were doing their supposed jobs. I do this before every new thing. It’s really just a case of me getting my worry out before the real thing starts. I typically don’t stress too much about things, except when I don’t know what to expect.


I pictured myself in a room with either A.) a room full of super artsy, super out there writers, or B.) the teachers I knew from high school. Lucky for me, it wasn’t at all what I expected.


When I walked in I was a bit nervous, but I looked the part and did my best to be professional. Little did I know, that wasn’t necessary, but at least my first impression was a good one. When I walked in I was greeted by a room full of teachers, all different kinds of teachers. That’s one aspect of this project that I was completely wrong about. I thought that this type of further education or continuing education or whatever it is they call those sixty hours a year that teachers are required to do was specifically for English and Writing teachers. This was a room full of all different types of teachers. A few of the teachers I got to meet and know a little bit about them.


One teacher was Cindy Green, and I actually had the opportunity to do her hair after the class one day. I learned all about her job. She is a distance teacher, and her job allows her to extend all the AP classes and the classes like Medical Terminology and odd classes like that to the classrooms in more rural areas of Arkansas. These schools that don’t have to opportunity to teach classes like this because they don’t have the numbers necessary to hire a teacher now use distance learning to do it. Ms. Green may never step into the actual classrooms of these students, but she does get to know these students and offers them a wider range opportunity because of what she is doing. Even though her students don’t really get the chance to meet her in person, she told me that every year she gets more graduation invitations than she knows what to do with.


Another teacher that I learned a little bit more about was a man named Mike Rush. Mr. Rush also teaches in a different type of classroom than what I’m accustomed to. He originally taught math, but he had the opportunity to switch to a computer lab setting. This lab gives transfer students, and even failing students, the opportunity to make up what they miss out on or fail. He said something to me that really stuck, and I hope that one day I will be able to put this into practice. Mr. Rush told me about his two daughters, both of which are extremely intelligent, the type of students who don’t really need teachers, who if they wanted to could open the book and teach themselves. When he figured this out about his daughters, he told me that his whole outlook on teaching changed. He began to lump students into two categories, the ones that really needed him, and the ones that didn’t. He didn’t give any more attention to one group or another, but he did realize what his reason for being there was. To help those who really need help.


These are just two stories out of around fifteen. I didn’t get to know every teacher on a personal level, but I learned from all of them. My first job as an intern was to create an anthology of the teachers writings. I set up an email account for the Great Bear Writing Project, took submissions and began to organize and format what would become a printed version of the accomplishments of all the teachers. An account of what they learned from the class and from each other. The best part of creating this anthology was reading the submissions of these teachers. Some were poets, others novelists, and some just plain thoughtful. I read stories of these teachers experiences, in and out of the classroom, and I learned from what they wrote. I may just be an intern, but now I’m an intern with insight into what my future hopefully holds.

–CC

“Life is a pure flame, And we live by an invisible sun within us.”- Sir Thomas Browne


11 Jul
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Writing a book is hard work. A task designed for a person with focus of steel. Focus that my poor, slightly frazzled brain has trouble with. Right now, I’m in the process of “writing” my first novel. Mostly, I don’t get a great deal of writing done, however, I do find myself doing an immense amount of staring at a blank page. I’ll have an idea, write a sentence or two that I will automatically label as “crap,” or “ewww,” or sometimes I even get a “wow, that is horrible” from myself. As I hastily punch the back button on my computer’s keyboard, I wonder how I will ever be able to create a world of words, a work that is ready to take readers to an alternate reality in which they can always find a refuge.

 

This is what a book is to me: a refuge. A home away from home. I’ve fought demons, witnessed the demise of a great and powerful being. I’ve visited with elves, ridden a dragon, gone to a school of magic, and traveled the world. The world of the page often feels more like home than my home could ever be. From the time I was a young child I have always loved to read. I’ve spent many a night laying in bed, caught up in the moments of my current favorite reads. It all began when I was younger.

 

In middle school, I spent more time trying to please others and be popular ( I know, how popular can you really be in middle school?) because that is what everyone else expected me to do. I went to a small private Christian school from Kindergarten until the day that I graduated from high school. Being with the same people, having the same teachers watch you grow up is nice, but it also limits you. I was always the over achiever and I was always expected to be the over achiever. When I was in the seventh grade my life took a slight turn and I went into a rebellious stage that I’m still not quite out of. For me, this is when writing really began to stick with me, when it really became important to me.

 

I started out writing teen angst poetry that was more a rant about how my life was so sucky (even though looking back, my life was anything but sucky, try blessed). Most of my friends had a little bit of trouble with the new me; more quiet and pensive, still driven, but definitely different. By the time I was in high school, I was ski pping the classes I didn’t like and sneaking out onto the balcony in the gym to write. I wrote everything, even though at that time I thought I was definitely a poet. I experimented and read different genres. I read books like Harry Potter even though they weren’t allowed. (I was a true rebel, huh?)

 

As I got closer to graduating, I knew that literature and writing were my passions, and that is one thing that has not, and probably never will change about me. I have writer’s block, but I’m working through it, just like any normal (are there normal writers?) writer would do. I have a daily battle with myself because so many different things tempt and distract me. I’m fighting though. Every day the battle is becoming more and more one sided. I am finding my voice. I am searching for the key to unlock all the creativity that I have inside of me. And guess what? I’m getting closer every day.

 

This is the goal I have for what I write, and because my expectations are so high, I realize how difficult it will be for me to actually write something I will approve of in the beginning. I’m praying that eventually I will be moved by some god of focus so that I may be able to get somewhere with novel number 1.

Working Through the Crazy


09 Jul

My life is a crazy hectic mess of class, internship, work, homework, and a serious deprivation of sleep. Every time I have a brilliant idea for a story or a blog, I’m in the middle of one of those previously mentioned obligations (and considering the amount of times that I have one of those brilliant moments, I really should own a pause world remote so I can write this down).What I’m learning, more and more every day, is that what I write about doesn’t really matter. When a story comes to me, I’ll have something then, but until that point, what is most important to me is to write.

Even though my life is at its craziest right now, I realize that writing is my escape. Immersing myself in a world of my own creation is like living a dream every day. I may not be published, and I may never be, but the one thing that can never be taken away from me is the sense of peace that I get from simply starting a sentence, and watching that sentence become a paragraph, become a page, become a world.

I recently found one of my old stories that I left unfinished and decided to work on it some more. It will be a children’s book, geared probably for the tweens. This story is about a ten year old girl named Jess. I started this story a few years ago and slightly modeled the character after a few of my family members. When I recently opened up what little I had gotten around to writing, I realized that it definitely was not up to my current standards, but I had a direction, I had an idea, and I now have a purpose. I’m doing a bit of outlining now, and hopefully said outlining will lead to an awesome story of a girl’s curiosity. (No, it won’t end for Jess like it ended for the poor cat.)

CC Riley

"A ship is safe in harbor, but that’s not what ships are for." –William Shedd