8th Grade SpeechEvery 8th grader at Grymes gives a speech at the end of the school year to the faculty, full student body, and family and friends. Here is my speech:
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8th Grade PlayThe 8th grade play was Twelfth Night and I played Sir Andrew Aguecheek. Here are some photos of me:
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2013 Writer's Eye Submission
Writer's Eye is a writing competition hosted by the University of Virginia for students from 3rd grade through University level and beyond. Students visit the UVA Fralin Art Museum to find their inspiration. There are various paintings and photographs to choose from as part of the competition. Students write a piece about the painting or photograph that they select.
Below is the painting I selected. I selected it because it reminded me of my journeys to Italy. It reminded me especially of a small square in Venice due to the canals and buildings. I thought it was really cool that I might be able to write about a memory from my journeys. |
A boy sits alone on a bench. A slight breeze ruffles his hair. He takes a bite of the bagel he’s holding. Small crumbs break off and float to the ground. They sit on the stones for a little while before being devoured by hungry pigeons. The boy watches as the birds fight over the small crumbs. They claw and peck at each
other in vain. The boy looks up. He is soon bored by the birds and is in search of other things to do. This square will soon be filled with venders selling their wares. There is hardly any sound except for the birds squawking over the remaining crumbs. The square is void of the small shops that usually line the streets. It is too early for them. Men, women, and children will soon crowd the streets, some buying and some selling. All this free space is like heaven for a small boy. He can build huge castles within minutes and protect it from the emerald green dragons that circle above. He can create masterpieces in seconds while saving the world from its impending doom. In his eyes, anything is possible. Today he wants to be an astronaut. He throws the stale bagel across the square and watches as the birds follow it through the air until it hits the ground and breaks into millions of tiny pieces. Now he suits up. He grabs his small striped vest and pulls it on. He zips up the front. Now a helmet is needed. He fishes through the trash for the paper bag that the bagel came in. Using one finger, he forms two eye holes and one for the mouth. He pulls it over his head. Now he is ready for blast off. He pulls something from his pocket. It is a small paperclip. It is the key to the spaceship. He jabs it into an imaginary slot and the thrusters begin to rumble. He twists his hand and the ship blasts high into space. For hours he jumps from the bench to the ground. At first, he is alone doing jumps on the moon, soaring ten feet into the air. Soon though, the first street vendors invade. They fill the square with silk scarves and small plastic masks. They are aliens. The boy runs through the crowds narrowly avoiding stands. Sometimes, he has to grab his helmet to keep it on. Soon the boy finds himself in an alleyway, moon tunnels. Tall apartments tower above him blocking the sunlight. All day, he will run through these tunnels seeking out the Moon King. One man on the outskirts of the crowd watches this boy with the paper bag on his head run through the market. He remembers when he was a boy protecting his castle from the enemy. He doesn’t know when he stopped creating castles. People don’t normally notice this change. All he knows is that it happens. You learn that it takes hundreds of years to build a castle and that dragons don’t exist. The man wishes he could have stayed in this imaginary world of childhood, but now it is too late. Now the boy is speeding towards him, flying across the cobbled sidewalk. His small legs pump up and down carrying the body along with them. Suddenly he slams into something, the man. He falls backwards from the impact. His paper bag flies off his head as he hits the ground. The boy slowly crawls to his feet. The only logical thing to do is to run. Before he can take one step, the man grabs him. In one hand he holds the boy; in the other, he holds the paper bag. The man gently places the bag back on the boy’s head. “You’re going to need this, ” says the man. |
Memories of Me
This is a collection of poems that I wrote about me.