What I Learned (My Experiences)

Quite frankly, I was devastated by the loss of Ms. McKenna. In my eyes no one could even come close to beginning to replace such an inspiration, a light that shined on my notebook. Even though I still haven’t got over the loss of Ms. Mckenna, and I don’t think I ever will, when Mr. Good stepped into the room I knew that there was still hope left in the world. I miss the ways of Ms. Mckenna, but Mr. Good brought something fresh into the room, something new. Laughs filled the air around me, people were smiling, and teenagers were using their hands. Everyone was writing, they were engaging their brains. It was a shock for me; it was a challenge to pursue myself to write everyday. I had to push myself to put the pencil to the paper. Some days were easier than others, some days I was looking forward to putting out a new style, opening my mind, while other days I just wanted to lay my head on the desk and fall into a deep sleep. It taught me perseverance to not give up on myself so easily. I learned that I had skill; I have a knack for putting words together in a meaningful rhythm. I am by nature a writer. It will never be a career choice, but a way to express myself. A hobby for the soul, a flame of passion. I enjoyed getting my words out on paper and it taught me how to use my words. I created and destroyed, and got a feel for the flow of words. I attended the four hour-long writers retreat with Martin and I took away a feel for not just words on a sheet of paper but that they had a spoken meaning, it was a different dialect. I felt, realized what words flow and work together and which ones tangle and fall apart. It’s like I developed a sixth sense in the world of written language. In an overall summary of what I took away from the moments of second quarter as a whole is confidence in myself and my writing. I used to be wary to get up in front of the class and share my work, but now am I comfortable in my own skin and want to share what I see as beautiful to others. What use is poetry locked in a dusty notebook to the world? It means nothing to anyone when it is stored away, its beauty unfolds as it is read. Writing is a fruit to the mind and an inspiration to the soul and the human life. It is my most treasured talent that I will carry in my suitcase until the day my body gives out on me .