Sunday, September 27, 2015
Thursday, September 17, 2015
« Querencia || 6th Grade Classrroom || Final Draft »
"A place from which one's strength of character is drawn. A place in which we know exactly who we are. The place from which we speak our deepest beliefs." Querencia is what that place is called and my querencia is the 6th grade classroom at St. John the Baptist Catholic School located in the midst of Kalihi. There are way better places to let go of your stress and difficulties other than a classroom owned by a small school, and a classroom is usually where all of the stress and difficulties develop from. But this classroom holds memories and creates new ones and somehow releases every single form of difficulty until it completely leaves your mind. It's a place where I can talk freely, move as I wish, and be the person who doesn't have the slightest concern of what people think.
It's the classroom that I was so eager to be in and so disappointed to leave. It had a corner with a rug filled with stuffed animals in various sizes where we would sometimes play games or even sleep, and right next to it was shelves full of books of all genres. There was a wall in the back of the class with a poster of my classroom when we were in 6th grade filled with a recollection of the most reminiscing times. In the front of the class was the teacher's desk consisting of a bucket of expo markers and the white board behind it. The white board wasn't only used by the teacher but used by the students to express their thoughts through dry erase markers. To the left was the teacher's second desk (where they do all their paperwork), where I remember having random and unreasonable conversations with my friends and the most laid back teachers. And in the center of the classroom were the desks. The desks that allowed us to start conversations, to store all of our belongings and to be surrounded by the people we enjoyed having around.
On the last few days of school, when I had already graduated but all the grades below still had school, I would come to visit, simply because I was so used to going there. I couldn't just leave after graduating, I didn't want my graduation day to be the last time I ever stepped foot in there. If you're really fond of a place, you're not just going to go there once, you would want to come again right? When I'm not in there, I felt so empty and bleak. I can't explain it well in words, but my heart would beat out of my chest and I would long to go inside there and nag my friends to come with me. It was just something essential to my life, something so vital. It makes me completely forget the dreadful things that exists and helps me to think that there is content in this world. I never thought of a place so remarkable to me would be a classroom, but it just so happens that it is and it's never something I'm ashamed of admitting.
The 6th grade classroom is always the first place I stopped by whenever I visited the school. It's like a medical treatment that is mandatory for me to have daily. Each time I enter this room, my initial thought is I can move around and talk to random people and do what I want (most of the time). It reminds me that I passed middle school, passed the 6th grade, and achieved what I had to know. Not only does it remind me that I was educated for 6th grade, but it reminds me that this is home. A home very close to my actual home. I know that it's difficult to be there now, but it's not impossible to be there again. So, even though I'm older and no longer attending the school, the 6th grade classroom is a place near my heart. It's a place where I recall joyous occasions and humorous events and laugh about it over and over again. A place where I can neglect distress and anxiety. A place where I can simply escape and break free. This place isn't just a 6th grade classroom, this place is my querencia, a querencia that can never be replaced.
It's the classroom that I was so eager to be in and so disappointed to leave. It had a corner with a rug filled with stuffed animals in various sizes where we would sometimes play games or even sleep, and right next to it was shelves full of books of all genres. There was a wall in the back of the class with a poster of my classroom when we were in 6th grade filled with a recollection of the most reminiscing times. In the front of the class was the teacher's desk consisting of a bucket of expo markers and the white board behind it. The white board wasn't only used by the teacher but used by the students to express their thoughts through dry erase markers. To the left was the teacher's second desk (where they do all their paperwork), where I remember having random and unreasonable conversations with my friends and the most laid back teachers. And in the center of the classroom were the desks. The desks that allowed us to start conversations, to store all of our belongings and to be surrounded by the people we enjoyed having around.
On the last few days of school, when I had already graduated but all the grades below still had school, I would come to visit, simply because I was so used to going there. I couldn't just leave after graduating, I didn't want my graduation day to be the last time I ever stepped foot in there. If you're really fond of a place, you're not just going to go there once, you would want to come again right? When I'm not in there, I felt so empty and bleak. I can't explain it well in words, but my heart would beat out of my chest and I would long to go inside there and nag my friends to come with me. It was just something essential to my life, something so vital. It makes me completely forget the dreadful things that exists and helps me to think that there is content in this world. I never thought of a place so remarkable to me would be a classroom, but it just so happens that it is and it's never something I'm ashamed of admitting.
The 6th grade classroom is always the first place I stopped by whenever I visited the school. It's like a medical treatment that is mandatory for me to have daily. Each time I enter this room, my initial thought is I can move around and talk to random people and do what I want (most of the time). It reminds me that I passed middle school, passed the 6th grade, and achieved what I had to know. Not only does it remind me that I was educated for 6th grade, but it reminds me that this is home. A home very close to my actual home. I know that it's difficult to be there now, but it's not impossible to be there again. So, even though I'm older and no longer attending the school, the 6th grade classroom is a place near my heart. It's a place where I recall joyous occasions and humorous events and laugh about it over and over again. A place where I can neglect distress and anxiety. A place where I can simply escape and break free. This place isn't just a 6th grade classroom, this place is my querencia, a querencia that can never be replaced.
Tuesday, September 15, 2015
Pictures in Paragraph
New Years
We arrive at the beach during the morning sun rise. Jumping out of the car racing towards the shiny water. The beach packed with people, making it difficult to find a spot to set place. With siblings and parents having a good time. The sounds of other families conversing and laughing with each other start to become louder as more people start to come. The smell of steak and ribs cooking on the grill fills the air as we wait to eat it. The day starts off great but gets boring as hours pass by. The sound of the youngest sibling whines wanting to go home.
As the sun goes down, playing with the family by the shore. The water begins to decrease in temperature, and the kids are shivering from the cold water. Parents calling their children to settle down and sit along with their close relatives. Patiently waiting for the clock to strike twelve with people counting down the amount of time left. When the clock strikes twelve everyone yells "Happy New Year!" to each other as they're hugging people around them. Fireworks shooting up to the sky exploding with a big BOOM with a colorful pop. Few more fireworks continue to explode in the air as everyone enjoys each other.
Thursday, September 10, 2015
« Querencia || Rough Draft »
"A place from which one's strength of character is drawn. A place in which we know exactly who we are. The place from which we speak our deepest beliefs." Querencia is what that place is called and my querencia is the 6th grade classroom at St. John the Baptist Catholic School located in the midst of Kalihi. There are way better places to let go of your stress and difficulties other than a classroom owned by a small school, and a classroom is usually where all of the stress and difficulties develop from. But this classroom holds memories and creates new ones and somehow releases every single form of difficulty until it completely leaves your mind. It's a place where I can talk freely, move as I wish, and be the person who doesn't have the slightest concern of what people think.
The 6th grade classroom is always the first place I stopped by whenever I visited the school. It's like a medical treatment that is mandatory for me to have daily. Each time I enter this room, my initial thought is I can move around and talk to random people and do what I want (most of the time). It reminds me that I passed middle school, passed the 6th grade, and achieved what I had to know. Not only does it remind me that I was educated for 6th grade, but it reminds me that this is home. A home very close to my actual home. It's a place where I recall joyous occasions and humorous events and laugh about it over and over again. A place where I can neglect distress and anxiety. A place where I can simply escape and break free.
On the last few days of school, when I had already graduated but all the grades below still had school, I would come to visit, simply because I was so used to going there. I couldn't just leave after graduating, I didn't want my graduation day to be the last time I ever stepped foot in there. If you're really fond of a place, you're not just going to go there once, you would want to come again right? When I'm not in there, I felt so empty and bleak. I can't explain it well in words, but my heart would beat out of my chest and I would long to go inside there and nag my friends to come with me. It was just something essential to my life, something so vital. It makes me completely forget the dreadful things that exists and helps me to think that there is content in this world. I never thought of a place so remarkable to me would be a classroom, but it just so happens that it is and it's never something I'm ashamed of admitting.
It's the classroom that I was so eager to be in and so disappointed to leave. It had a corner with a rug filled with stuffed animals in various sizes where we would sometimes play games or even sleep, and right next to it was shelves full of books of all genres. There was a wall in the back of the class with a poster of my class when we were in 6th grade filled with a recollection of the most reminiscing times. In the front of the class was the teacher's desk consisting of a bucket of expo markers and the white board behind it. The white board wasn't only used by the teacher but used by the students to express their thoughts through dry erase markers. To the left was the teacher's second desk (where they do all their paperwork), where I remember having random and unreasonable conversations with my friends and the most laid back teachers. And in the center of the classroom were the desks. The desks that allowed us to start conversations, to store all of our belongings and to be surrounded by the people we enjoyed having around. This isn't just a 6th grade classroom, this is my querencia.
The 6th grade classroom is always the first place I stopped by whenever I visited the school. It's like a medical treatment that is mandatory for me to have daily. Each time I enter this room, my initial thought is I can move around and talk to random people and do what I want (most of the time). It reminds me that I passed middle school, passed the 6th grade, and achieved what I had to know. Not only does it remind me that I was educated for 6th grade, but it reminds me that this is home. A home very close to my actual home. It's a place where I recall joyous occasions and humorous events and laugh about it over and over again. A place where I can neglect distress and anxiety. A place where I can simply escape and break free.
On the last few days of school, when I had already graduated but all the grades below still had school, I would come to visit, simply because I was so used to going there. I couldn't just leave after graduating, I didn't want my graduation day to be the last time I ever stepped foot in there. If you're really fond of a place, you're not just going to go there once, you would want to come again right? When I'm not in there, I felt so empty and bleak. I can't explain it well in words, but my heart would beat out of my chest and I would long to go inside there and nag my friends to come with me. It was just something essential to my life, something so vital. It makes me completely forget the dreadful things that exists and helps me to think that there is content in this world. I never thought of a place so remarkable to me would be a classroom, but it just so happens that it is and it's never something I'm ashamed of admitting.
It's the classroom that I was so eager to be in and so disappointed to leave. It had a corner with a rug filled with stuffed animals in various sizes where we would sometimes play games or even sleep, and right next to it was shelves full of books of all genres. There was a wall in the back of the class with a poster of my class when we were in 6th grade filled with a recollection of the most reminiscing times. In the front of the class was the teacher's desk consisting of a bucket of expo markers and the white board behind it. The white board wasn't only used by the teacher but used by the students to express their thoughts through dry erase markers. To the left was the teacher's second desk (where they do all their paperwork), where I remember having random and unreasonable conversations with my friends and the most laid back teachers. And in the center of the classroom were the desks. The desks that allowed us to start conversations, to store all of our belongings and to be surrounded by the people we enjoyed having around. This isn't just a 6th grade classroom, this is my querencia.
Tuesday, September 8, 2015
Special Place ☄
64 degrees fahrenheit, strong winds passing through the cold air, humidity at its lowest, cloudless skies and rays coming off the sun. This place, is Washington D.C. An area that borders Maryland and Virginia, east of the U.S, and is considered to be our capital. Who knew a place so surrounded by government would be such a stress relief? The first time I went there was last year (so not too long ago). It's a place that is exactly opposite from where I am now which consists of extremely hot temperatures, not that much wind or a single breeze pass, humidity is extremely high, rains about 3 times a week, and the only thing it has in common is that the sun still shines throughout the day. It's not only the climate and conditions that makes this a "special" place, but what happens there is what makes it special. The scenery is one that I've never seen before. There are trees that are so unfamiliar to me like cherry blossoms, and there were buildings that looked so clean and neat, and the people there were different. I think of this as a "special" place because I just felt so care-free, like as if I had no problems in my life, no stress, no trouble, and nothing that ever made me think of the slightest miserable circumstance. Washington D.C is simply a place for me to live without worries.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
