Hello WonderHere Friends!
I cannot believe that after this week, we only have two weeks of camp left! Summer has sure flown by. Speaking of, if you’re still looking for camp opportunities, we have a few spaces left this upcoming week and next! For more information and registration, visit wonderhere.com/summer-camps.
These camps have been an absolute joy and a blast to teach. It’s amazing the kind of work kids can produce in a fun, low-stress environment. They’ve been writing and producingย plays, creating businesses (and actually making money!), designingย unique game boards, constructing LEGO robotics, publishing original stories, cooking up all sorts of recipes, engineering structures to survive in the wild, and using math in real world situations! Tiffany and I planned many project-based critical thinking activities, but the kids are the ones who took it all to the next level!
Last week, I had the privilege of teaching The Price is Write camp, which focused onย creative writing. I was superย excited for this camp because I love writing, and creative writing in particular always takes the backseat in public education, especially in the tested grades. So my campers and I talked lots about in-depth character development, intricate plot structure, and what it means to be as descriptive as possible. We read some great books to garner inspiration from, andย I was blown away by some of the literary conversations we had. Then, it was their turn to become the authors. I told them the elements I was looking for in their stories… but that was about it. The premise was theirs to decide. I can sit here all day and rave about their end-results, but I’ll let one student’s work speak for itself.
This short story you’re about to read is calledย Soles, and it is written by Ella Collins. Grab a cup of coffee or tea if you can, sit back, and enjoy ๐
ย Soles
by Ella Collins
I trudged across the city sidewalk. Why would I waste my time withย them? It was so obviousโฆ ever since I was a kidโฆ I thought, listening to the cars pass me by, like they were trying to get as far away from me as possible, as fast as possible. Like their lives depended on getting wherever they were going. I guess the world is just too busy for Alex Galletta. I thought solemnly.
Only twenty minutes ago I was walking with my friends, or at least Iย thought they were my friends. It all started with Chuck. โHey, Alex?โ Chuck had said. I looked up at him curiously. โWhatโs up with you and those high tops?โ Chuck asked me. โUmโฆ They were from my mom, why?โ I replied skeptically. โWow, I canโt believe your mommy could buy that for you โcause sheโs so poor.โ He said slyly, the other guys (Derek and Johnny) snickered. My eyes widened with shock.
โDude tha-โ
โDid I hurt your feawings, baby?โ Chuck interrupted.
โChuckโs weally sowwy, donโt tattle tale on us to your mommy.โ Derek jeered. โYeah! Sheโll put us in time out!โ Johnny exclaimed with false urgency. They all burst out laughing. I didnโt know what to say. The same thing happened to me years ago, we were all six, and I remembered what happened next with a shudder.
They would grab me by the collar of my shirt, take my shoes, throw meย on the ground, and then hold the shoes just out of reach and tease me as I attempted to grab them. Of course, my mom was there to save me then, but now? I swallowed hard, I only had a few seconds to escape. I darted out of there moments before Chuck grabbed me. In fact, I was just out of reach.
Finally, my heart stopped pounding and my mind stopped racing.
Wow,ย I shouldโve seen that comingโฆ Like four years ago. I thought, wandering aimlessly around town, more lost in my thoughts than in the city. After a while, I passed a park. I walked through the entrance for no apparent reason. A dirt road lead down through the trees and the flat, grassy areas. After a while, the path lead me toward a lake.
I was thinking about what had happened. I was scared, but why? Iย didnโt think they would hurt me (well, maybe a little bit), but I felt like I needed to run for a really important reason. I tasted the word preserve on my tongue. โPreserveโฆโ I mumbled, as if saying it would help. I thought it meant preserve myself, but somehow I knew it wasnโt right. Maybeโฆ To preserve something elseโฆ
I looked down at my shoes. They were worn, red Converse brand highย tops. Ripped, stained, torn, but I never wore anything else. Finally, I dismissed the topic I was contemplating all together, and looked up to watch the lake. As I did so, I continued to walk, a big mistake. I tripped on my shoelaces and my feet fell out from under me so quickly that it flung my shoes right in the middle of the lake. I couldnโt go get them, they were too far, just like everything else. I lost everything. My friends, my shoes, my last ray of hope, everything. Those shoes, I thought, mean so much more to me than I choose to believe.
It all started when I was six. My dad was still there, but we still didnโtย have much money. My mom saved all the money she could spare for a pair of red high tops (which was way harder than it sounds, since she also saved for retirement, my college fund, on top of bills and what not. Itโs especially hard since high tops were really expensive).
She saved for months to get the thing I wanted. Every year, I got a newย pair of shoes. Every year, I got the same ones. I received the pair I am wearing two years ago, when dad left. Ever since then, everything has been different. I have been so distanced from my mom, and pretty much everything else. I donโt go to school, I donโt take care of myself, I donโt do anything, that is unless I want to do something (or if my friends want me to do something, but I got over that an hour ago).
I lost my shoes. The shoes that are the last reminder of my dad. Theย shoes that keeps me close to my mom, no matter how far away I might be from her. The shoes that remind me of the days when I was happy. But as I thought, I realize that those shoes are a constant reminder that those days have ended.
I stared at the lake. I need my mom. I turned around with new foundย determination, I was going to get her. I sprinted out of the park and into the city.
I knocked on her apartment door. I waited only a few moments, justย enough time to realize I didnโt have anything to say. But, mom made it easy for me. She looked at me with surprise for a moment, studied me for a second, and then asked sympathetically โWhatโs wrong Alex?โ She waited patiently. I looked into her warm, brown eyes, so soothing and understanding. โIโฆ Iโm sorryโฆ For justโฆ Being soโฆโ I choked up and tears filled my eyes. Mom pulled me into a warm embrace and held me tightly. โNo hard feelings.โ She said with a playful grin. โI love you.โ
If you’re sitting there with your mouth hanging open in awe that a kid could write something so profound, I’m right there with you. Clearly, I had very little to do with Ella’s end product. Her ability and talent is evidently God-given, and is also a result of reading and writing being celebrated in the home (yay mom & dad Collins!). It’s all about kids being given the tools and opportunity to express themselves creatively… whether through writing or another art form. That’s all WonderHere aims to be… a place for opportunity. So glad Ella got the chance to wonder here ๐
By the way… I’d be looking for her name on bookstore shelves in the not-so-distant future. I envisionย a NY Times best-seller! You can say you read her work here first ๐
