TTFN

"The eagerness of a listener quickens the tongue of a narrator."
~ Charlotte Bronte, Jane Eyre

As I mentioned in my last note,  I went to Spanish camp with Senora Goldstein last week, with Jean, Kelsey, and Sneed.  Things were a little loco in the beginning, but we quickly learned to be okay with the fact that a teacher was living down the hall from us.  I learned a year's worth of Spanish in two months, passed the final with a 90%, and am going to be in Spanish 3 this school year.

Unfortunately,
that's not the main point of this note.

I found the Charlotte Bronte quote above in Jane Eyre, a book assigned for summer reading by my language teacher.  I read the sentence, put the book down, and grabbed a piece of paper and pen as fast as I could.  I wrote the quote down and thought about it for a while.

I've been thinking for a few weeks now that I should temporarily stop writing for this blog. 

And I have a few good reasons.

1.  Last year's finals.

I started this blog last year right around the time that I should have been studying like mad for my finals.  My grades on the finals were pretty good, but not as good as they could or should have been.  I need to focus more this year on school, and less on my writing.

2.  This year's schoolwork.

For my sophomore year, my schedule includes three Advanced Placement, college-level, classes, plus the new level in Spanish.  I am going to have to work harder now than I ever have, and I don't know if I'll have the time to maintain this blog.

3.  Is anyone reading?

Just as Charlotte Bronte said, in 1847, storytellers work best when they are listened to attentively.  Even though it has been a while since I've written, it is a little disheartening to get so few comments on my notes.  It is difficult to want to keep writing here if no one is reading, or liking, what I write.

That's basically it.  I'm giving up the blog for a while for extra time, because I need to focus, and for my own personal reasons.  At least for the first half of the school year, I won't post much on this blog.

But fear not!

There is hope.

When not enough people signed up for the brand new creative writing elective class, none of the teachers wanted to add the class to their work load, and there were rumors that it would be shut down before it had even started.  The few students who had signed up would have to take something else.  I have never been in a creative writing class, but it sounded like so much fun, I signed up for it last year.  I was so sad at the thought of not being able to take the class.

When my mom called the school to see what my sophomore schedule would be, creative writing was one of my classes!  The Flare had found a language teacher who would also teach creative writing.

In a few weeks, I'll be in her class, writing for a grade and having other students read my work, giving me constructive criticism and helping me to improve.  This is exactly what I need.

Just because I'm leaving the blog for a while doesn't mean I'll stop writing.  I'll write even more frequently now, and I see my situation as more of a happy beginning than a sad ending.

I won't give up the blog forever.  At least I don't think so, but you never can tell.  This isn't goodbye.  It's more of a "ta ta for now", like Tigger always says.

So TTFN, dear reader!

Ta ta for now.

Grace Kent

The Long Hallway

The Flare.

The scariest principal in the History of Ever.

I don’t even know if they have a detention system at my school.  If you get in trouble, the teachers just tell you to "go to Ms. O'Flaherty's office".  Known for her strict expectations, The Flare is a punishment in itself.

Then why am I walking down the long hallway to her office?

Let me explain the hallway.  The hallway with her door at the end is architecturally structured to seem endless, like some sick optical illusion.  It's like something out of Alice in Wonderland.  It's like the farther you go into the hallway, the longer it gets, until you can turn around and not see where you came from.

As I am walking down the hall, with my heart in my throat, I am thinking through the last week, wondering what I could've done wrong.  What could possibly merit a trip to The Flare's office?  I don't know!

All I know is that as I am opening the door to her office, she leaps up from her desk, and runs at me.

Wait, back up.

Let's go back a couple hours, to the night before.  It was the National Junior Honors Society induction ceremony.  I was amazed that I had even gotten in, with my Biology grades.  But I had, and I was sitting between Lauren and Olivia, listening to someone give a speech.  We had been given assigned seats ahead of time, and I was exactly where I needed to be.  (We would all exit our rows in order, to receive our certificates.)  I had just gotten a new haircut and was wearing high heels.  Everything was perfect.

Until The Flare started calling names to receive certificates.

The Flare stood in front of all the students and some parents, reading off of a list of new NJHS members.  She called Jean.  She called Nancy.  She called Ryan.  Then she called Lauren.

I was next!

I braced myself.

I smiled.

But she called Olivia.

Then Will.

Then Carter.

Now, I don't know what happened, exactly.  All I know is how awkward I felt standing there, wondering if I had even been in NJHS at all.  Standing there, everyone knew that there was a mistake.  Well, everyone but The Flare, who kept reading her list.  Parents, friends, students I had never even met, stared at me with questioning eyes.  I nervously laughed, held up my palms, and mouthed "I don't know."

Please don't cry, please don't cry, please don't cry...

And I didn't.  Because within five minutes, five long minutes, after everyone had been called and we were about to start another round of speeches, my English teacher came to my aid by running up to The Flare and whispering something in her ear, pointing at me.  She looked at me, smiled, and called my name.  She handed me my certificate and shook my hand.

And the parents applauded!

And my friends applauded!

And the students I had never even met applauded!

The way my dad saw it, I "got the most applause out of anybody."

So back to present time.

The next morning, I am walking, palms sweating, heart pounding, to The Flare's office.  I open her door, she sees me, jumps up from her desk, and runs at me.

And she hugs me.

?

"I am so sorry!" she exclaims in her heavy Irish accent.  "I forgot you!  It was a complete accident, I was caught up in the moment, I was so nervous!"

I tell her not to worry about it, it was all fine.

But I learned something important that day, something that I will be able to use for the rest of my years in high school: The Flare is not as bad as people say.

Yes, she's tough.

But she's fair.

Teacher's coming, so I'm folding the note up.  Please pass it on!
Grace Kent

Taking Attendance

There is so much to tell, I don't know where to start.

So let's start with me!  My name is Grace Kent and I am a freshman at a very small school in the Pacific Northwest.  I am not the most popular girl in school, but I don't sit quietly in the back of the room either.  (I've actually gotten in trouble for talking in class, on more than one occasion.)  I am very good at languages and very bad at Biology.  I really like school.  So much so, I feel the need to share my high school stories with whoever will listen, which I guess, in this case, is you!

My vocab word for this week is "eccentric".  It means "not conventional; a little kooky; irregular".  My classmates are eccentric. 

My best friend Kelsey is the loudest, nicest, and most fun person in the world.  We've known each other since we were in 6th grade, and we do everything together.  And, of course, I have to tell you about Sneed.  His full name is Cody Sneed, but we all just call him Sneed.  There is an unspoken consensus that he will one day grow up to be either the head of the Secret Service, or the country's most wanted serial killer, but for now, he's just my locker buddy.  I don't have any "arch enemies", but I try to steer clear from the Maybellines.  You know, they're those girls who are 16 going on 30, wearing too much makeup and trying to be all that and a bag of chips.  And fortunately for my Biology grades, Jean, the smartest girl in our grade, is my bus buddy.  We sit together on the drive to school, where she helps me with my homework.

And then there's my principal.

When you look up the definition of "intimidating", you should see a picture of my principal.  She is Irish, with red hair and a temper to match.  Her name is Ms. O'Flaherty, but we all call her The Flare.  Like the flare of dynamite.

Well, I have to go now; I think the teacher is collecting our math homework.  In my next note, I'll tell you about what happened the first time I got called in to The Flare's office.

Teacher's coming, so I'm folding the note up.  Please pass it on!
Grace Kent