There are plenty of tutors in the Writing Center. All of them are completely unique individuals. Starting today, we'll be posting pieces of writings by our very own tutors, hopefully helping you all get to know them even better. The stress of high school is something that falls upon everybody, it’s like a concept everyone is familiar with. It’s nothing foreign; it’s nothing new Even though it may feel as if I’m drowning in disappointing grades and time-consuming AP readings, I know I’m just floating on top of it all with my eyes closed, waiting for one final thing to pull me under. It’s as if I’m walking on a tightrope—body tense and the slightest sense of relief or change will cause me to lose my balance. I didn’t expect to feel so drained, as though all my energy was flowing from my body with each history paper I wrote, math test I took, or science lab I completed. It’s not just the piles on piles of schoolwork that deprive me of my full eight hours of sleep. It’s one or two hours of soccer conditioning; it’s the the need to actually keep my social life intact so I don’t go crazy. It’s trying to have some time for just me so I can prepare myself to do everything all over again. When I first entered high school, I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t excited. I didn’t feel prepared for what the year was going to throw at me; I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to catch it. I took all honors my freshmen year. Every voice, including my counselors, and fiber of my being told me I shouldn’t, but I was worrying about what colleges would think and what they would consider as excellence. It’s been that way ever since. Everything I do, every award I achieve, every grade I earn is evaluated on how it helps me move toward a better future, a future where I’m happy and I’m living a successful life and supporting the family I hope to have. Everything leads to that, somehow. All of it connects to one another, like a row of dominoes leading into three different paths. You just don’t know which path your domino will knock down. I’m not really sure where I’ll be in five or ten years. I don’t even know where I’ll be in two. I just hope for the best, and I hope that my skills and my smarts will enough to carry me across the threshold into adulthood. Hope that the obstacles I face won’t be impossible for me to get over, just challenging enough for me to learn from. I know it won’t be the smoothest transition... it definitely won’t be the easiest, and most likely, for me, the most emotional. I’m not afraid of the future. I’m afraid of what it’ll take to get there. Will I lose my way and all of this stress be for nothing? Or will all of it pay off when I’m living in my giant mansion with a maid and a personal chef? I guess I won’t really find out until I get there. In all honesty, the question of “Will I ever be good enough?” becomes a recurring question in my head. A question I’m afraid to hear the answer to. If the answer is yes, maybe the life I have planned out for myself in my head will become a reality. If the answer is no, well I don't really want to think about that one. All I know is that my future isn’t mapped out. I haven’t chose which domino I’m gonna knock down. Will I be able to float to shore by myself, or will life drift me farther into the my own hardship and keep me there until something finally pulls me under. I can only hold my breathe for so long. - Destiny Price Million Dollars
"Have you ever made a million dollars with your talent? Have you ever-" Pause. I can't say that, but my brain says it over and over cause it's all I can remember, As I sit and try to focus it's like I've been struck by a lightning and shook by thunder. Bang! Boom! Blaw! I don't know my actions and am forced to surrender. To the thump thump thump that leads the way to slumber. I am in a place, a place, a wonderful place Where the world is black and there's infinite space My worries and troubles disappears as I hear the creak of the gates The doors that lead to freedom, away from all I can't explain, i can't maintain, I don't stay the same, when I'm gone my hands move in disdain I can't be tamed, I can't stay lame, I must move, I can't be contained Going, going, gone, gone. I depart from this world as I stand and thump. I sit, I bump, I feel like Donald Trump Cause I'm in an oasis of flawlessness where everyone else around me looks dumb. They have no idea what it's like to be free and feel blissfully numb. Not from drugs, not from sleep, but from lyrics and beatings of a drum. My ancestors prayed and sang to one day see The freedom and joy that resides in me Not from food nor drink, but a beat A million dollars cannot buy The artist, yes, but the art, oh my Flawless, priceless, thoughtless, why? So easy it could be done by even fly guy As I sit and write and ponder without thought About this lyrical art that is youthfully sought As I read and look for the end of this plot To describe music, which with a million dollars, could never be bought. - Yaw Osei
0 Comments
|
Who are we?
We are the tutors of the Hawk Writing Center! See more under the 'About' tab. Archives
May 2017
Categories |