The show stoppers

 
I guess when I think about the people that I’ve met this year I can say all my friends are show stoppers. They are amazing .Everyone with a golden talent of their own .All with a voice trying to reach every single individual. All different but compatible. Maybe our behavior isn't the greatest but hey that’s just who we are. We share laughs .We share secrets, stories, clothes, memories .Just about everything you could share .We are all are capable to getting somewhere big in life. Even those with an F, D or C grade point average. Maybe some people don’t see it but I see it. In fact, I see it in myself .In fact maybe I am not the best cookie in the jar, but I know that in my life I am not just living to live, I am living to make a difference maybe not big. But when did size ever matter.

Obviously kids like me are here to learn, maybe you teachers don’t realize it but when we fail we still tried. We didn’t try with a frown but we tried with a smile hoping for the best but the best just decided not to come. Moving on.

 Today they were talking to us about us being remembered in four years time. I feel that us, 7th and 8th graders, and our teachers are like pillars that hold the middle school together .The front office just seems to control the elementary and preschool. Nobody has seemed to care up until now. Up until we combined our voices together to create a voice that cannot be left unheard. I guess our voices have been taken the wrong way. Our conclusion was basically that you think we come to Chabad just for the fun and not to learn, when in fact we come to learn.

When I was at my old school, I knew nothing and I could never write a full sentence. I knew nothing about my Jewish roots, I didn't know how to pray and for my school spelling bee I got out on the word octopus on the first round. Chabad saved me. Not only do I own my own Sidour now but I celebrate Shabbat and go to Shull every Friday and Saturday, and every Friday and Saturday I feel G-d’s presence around me. I learned how to write, how to do math and I got a tad bit better in science but I guess that one is all my fault for not paying attention .I am now learning Hebrew, I can read hebrew.

I also know how to write an essay and use different techniques in English .Now if I learned all that in the little time I’ve been at Chabad, imagine the rest of the kids in my class, imagine what they’ve learned.

    Now I didn’t write this to mock anyone. I didn't write it for an award of some sort .I wrote this for the 7th and 8th grade voices to be heard the right way.

 

Step cards

Dear Faculty of Chabad


Chabad has a different way of keeping balance, they use step cards .The purpose of a step card is to have order and balance. One step is a warning .Your second step is another warning .Your third is a call home .The fourth step is lunch detention .The 5th step results to in-school suspension!

 Before I came to Chabad there was no such thing as a step card or something to keep track of all the times we got in trouble. Instead our teacher would just tell us to go stand outside of the classroom or run a lap around the school and back .We got three warnings before any of this happened .

Sometimes step cards are being abused .Sometimes we get even two steps instead of one for doing something that’s not even worth giving a step for! Frankly I think no one likes step cards or the idea of them. And I am sure that teachers don’t enjoy giving them out. I don’t think that we should get rid of step cards or when someone misbehaves have them walk out not being punished. If that happened, being disrespectful or acting up in class, will be considered normal. I just think we should minimize on the punishments we get.

Sincerely
      Anais Lund

Tears

As the first tear sneaks its way out of your eye, your start to feel it smoothly flow down your face, slowly but willingly. It leaves a trace on your skin that cools the pores. Your skin absorbs it, trying to make your face dry again but more come tumbling down faster and faster, leaving small pools of water on your face, as you clutch your fist to calm yourself. The tears change from cool to warm, making you feel better from letting out what you’ve been holding on.

You let out a sigh as your warm breath escapes your mouth, heating the air around you. A heat that not only comforts your body, but also your soul. As your lips start twitching again, you remember the reason why this melancholy feeling came to place. This time with less compassion, tears start rushing through your eyes.

 As they stream down your face they create a mask that is wet and sticky to the touch. As you wipe off the remains from your eye lids, you have a feeling of confidence that overpowers you. Then you reach a point where you just give in to that power, and find out what it’s trying to say. And you follow it. You walk to the bathroom .And with the slightest curb of your hand, you turn on the faucet, push your hands together creating a circle that is being filled up with water and splash it on your face .Washing away the old mask ,and replacing it with a new one. Feeling refreshed as your new water coated mask seeps into your skin. And your sorrow disappears.