Final Exam Narrative

For a couple of weeks Smitty had been reminding me to write my senior Reflection, politely tapping me on the shoulder when ever I passed him in the halls, this did not speed up my process. It wasn’t until Smitty pulled me into stars office a week before I was set to speak and demanded a topic for my reflection. If I’m being honest I hadn’t given much thought into my reflection and as I thought an experience from my subconscious slipped out of my lips like a liquid strand of my thoughts, uncontrollable and honest. Something like, “um, I don’t know maybe like when I was in 6th grade and I didn’t get a prize but Tad and Hans did” filled the empty space in which my reflection should be. Mr. Smith didn’t complain about the unfinished idea but told me he loved it and to get to work. Confidence coursed through my veins that night as I slowly wrote my reflection, putting heart to paper, before I knew it my paper had taken some sort of shape. That morning Fitz took a look at the paper and added the true punch it needed, Ms. Libby and Star listened to the first version of the paper and gave me the feedback it needed. Looking back at this I can’t help but write about more than one teacher. Through my whole Fenn experience it has taken a group of people keep me going. Once the day came I got through the first couple minutes of my reflection just like I had practiced, I felt good, I began to call out the names of people who had helped me when I needed it, I felt my stomach lurch and my face redden, before I knew it I was crying in front of 400 people. I finished my reflection and walked off the stage to my seat. I was ashamed at crying and looked down at my feet waiting for the applause to stop, but it didn’t stop like normal, the whole school was clapping, supporting me just like the people I called out. Bonnie pulled me into a hug and Smitty told me I did a great job. Fenn isn’t perfect but on that day I felt the true might of my Fenn experience, a loving community that cares.


Sonnet about Mom

a guiding angel always there
watching waiting loving living 

my mom is always there to share

never selfish always giving 

whenever I am down she comes, to picks me up
I am not afraid to fail knowing that she’s there
my Mom has all the energy like a little pup
a strong presence like a bear she never scares

her loving warmth it radiates
her claws come out to protect at the right times
her power and beauty is oh so great
the positivity makes me climb

without my mom I am weak shes here 

to teach me, give me, strength for life



This Poem was hard for me, it did not come easy, I had to really dig in to get a product out. Instead of focusing on the iambic part, I decided that I would have to just do ten syllables to get my point across. I read it to my mom and she liked it but I’m not sure if it’s good or not given my mother’s bias.

Power of Place 2.0

A place to be me


“A place is only as good as the people in it.”

          For six years I have warmed to feeling at home at Fenn. For the better part of these 6 years I have gotten to school and been able to walk to s101. A sometimes messy, usually cold, haven in my days at school. No matter the day I found comfort in Ms. Libby’s room. It symbolizes fun games of Latin basketball, hijinks during translating and stories told eating snack. Our class is tight knit, we know each other’s every move, we aren’t scared to call each other out, because of this we know how to have fun with each other, how to get the best out of each other. Classes range, we realize that we can have fun at class, sometimes we have too much fun. When this happens Ms. Libby is quick to change the mood. Sometimes we have super random classes but at this point the whole group has learned to embrace them. I can remember a class late last year. We had planned on getting new books that class. We walked into a classroom full of scattered pages of a Latin textbook. In other classes this would be a hinderance. Instead we embraced the sticky situation and got to work. We spent the better part of that class sorting the different pages until at long last we had 10 well sorted, in order Latin textbooks. The class was not worried or stressed, we were enjoying being able to be with each other in a safe situation. After we had finally got the papers sorted, we didn’t mind doing the Latin, we embraced that as well. In a day where I can be stressed and confused, walking into Latin makes the day a bit better. I can be a unapologetic version of myself. I’m my most confident in Latin even though I sort of suck at it, I feel safe around my friends. At school we learn to be someone. Sometimes it feels like Fenn is teaching us to be someone other than ourselves, a carbon copy of the perfect student who will go on to do good things. But in the school house 4 days a week I learn to be myself, because if I’m going to do big things I want it to be from a pure version of me.


3 poems

I am from the green grass circle of Middlesex, 

From always being a Concord boy at heart, to loving my new Lawrence family.

From hating un-toasted gluten free bread

From eating in a dining hall.

I am from cool summers on Lake Erie in Canada to late summer relaxing sessions on the Cape

From having to tell everyone what a migraine is and people asking, "do you think you will go to Lawrence?" 


From a writhed branch

Dead for many months 

Emerges a Bud 



Who is this boy in the mirror

He is tired from waking up at six

He drags his body down the stairs 

He eats gluten free

As he walks he warms to the day

Trying to live up to his own expectations 

Striving for a better self

Journal Outside




I bike through the woods, trying to think of ideas for English. I had spent a long weekend enjoying myself and definitely not thinking about English class or homework. This was until I remembered that I had to go outside and think about English class. I hopped onto my bike and made the leg straining climb up to the top of a hill near my house. A wind blew through my hair as I looked up. At this second I stopped and took a second to appreciate what was in front of me. An expanse of nature was there for me to take in, buds were peaking out at the world, the grass had started to show its true color expelling it’s winter brown for summer green. Even though I had biked away from campus I could still smell the newly placed mulch. Spring in it’s simplest form is mulch, new, full and pungent , when the mulch goes down the fields start to fill again, I have watched as seniors start to take stock of their experience. Now I’m the one finally understanding that I won’t be back on campus as a student soon. Nature provokes emotion, underlying pieces of my identity. I look over the domain I will soon be a student at. I take a deep breath and let it sink in and the bike ride is worth it.

Walden Writing Prompt #2


Necessity turns Lions into Fox


            What happens if you strip life down to the very basics. What would happen? Some say that life would be better without the distractions of everyday life, others think that the point of life is to keep gaining new objects in life. I am somewhere in the middle. I do not believe that a life deprived of the pomp and frill I live with now would make me a happier of better person. Nor do I believe that I would be better off with tons of new things everyday. What makes life worth living for me is always being grounded and humble as well as looking for new experiences and enjoying them. I don’t think that anyone I know can argue that getting new things isn’t fun and exciting, having fun is one of the best things in life. I’m not saying that getting new things is the only way to gain happiness, it isn’t, the constant getting of new things can spoil you but in small and significant doses it can make you more grateful, fun loving and ready to give back. A live lived with the people you love makes life worth it. 

Seasonal Haiku’s






A sparrow pecks at

The thawing ground hoping 

Searching for food




From a writhed branch

Dead for many months 

Emerges a Bud 



Squirrel peaks out

Sniffs the air, a new smell

Mulch, grass, food, spring



Green, color of life 

Come back, it seems I forgot 

The true life you bring









Summer, so lush, full

I love your sand in my feet

water on my face



Smokey, marshmallowly 

Hot coals leap, I stay stotic

Caught up in my bliss



Drip, sweat trickling 

Down my nose, looking right I

Notice I’m not alone



Red Robin! I call

Red Robin comes back, only on

Summer nights










Like a bee hive 

The campus starts to buzz




Energy, is life

In fall it is unbridled 

Ready to be used



As the leafs fall

The school year builds up 

Constant things to do



A true perfect day

Warm sun and chill breeze

Sports and cocoa









When the rink seems

Warm, then you know it has arrived

Winter, pure winter



My breath freezes 

Hans blows a icy gust at me

I return it back



I have been warmed 

By a glorious smooth mug

Yummy smooth goodness



Run! Extra seconds 

Like a death clock ticking

Ward hall is close




I think these turned out pretty well, it took me a while to get ideas and sometimes they didn’t fit into the haiku format. This was frustrating, I just had to keep going until something good fit.


The summer ones are my most personal haikus, I draw on nights on campus playing games and sitting around. These are some of my happiest memories so I hope that it came out on the paper.


These poems were also quite personal, I realize now that I’ve had a hard time trying to use the techniques that fitz gave us. I was just going with my own flow and forgot to add a twist.


Overall I think they are pretty good. I failed to use the techniques very well, this is disappointing to me because I wanted to follow the guidelines well. I guess I’m not a twisty kind of writer. I prefer to go the way I go, I should work on that.

Walden Writing Prompt #1



It's not what you look at that matters, it's what you see.

-Henry David Thoreau


          01742, Concord MA, paradise of rich history, lush forests, touched and untouched nature and a community as strong and complex as the cold New England winter. Concord is history, living, breathing and walking through this town you can feel the ephemeral and lasting memories and lives. In these very woods Henry David Thoreau tired to find himself, through his book his memories will live. Im not sure what kind of person Thoreau is yet, his writing presents a mixed bag of emotions, views and lessons. At the very least Thoreau is a hugely complex person who clearly has strong views on life. I was not too overwhelmed by the writing, I think reading Moby Dick might have helped, but it was hard to read. This being said it cannot be denied that Thoreau is a master of writing the English language, some of his sentences are complex yet understandable, unique yet relatable and all around dazzling. On a couple of sentences he goes into such detail that the reader can’t help but to be transported into his shoes and views. These sentences make for extremely quotable quotes, quotes that can give you the upper hand in any intellectual conversation. These quotes soul propose isn’t just to embarrass anyone with big words from a long dead genius but provide a valuable sight into how HDT understood the world around him.


“The mass of men live lives of quite desperation”

          Thoreau clearly believes that live should be lived with purpose. He thinks that anything less than a total devotion to what your doing makes it a waste of time. When he was a teacher he made sure that his students were engaged. He goes as far to say not to read Walden if you do not truly want to. He despised students or anyone being forced to live a certain way. By desperation he means that men who are not thinking themselves, not acting for themselves will waste away in a unhappy life. He was so afraid or against living a life of desperation that he excused himself from normal life for two years. To be totally free was the definition of a good and happy life for HDT. What is wisdom? To live a happy life do you have to be wise?


“It is a characteristic of of wisdom not to do desperate things”

          Thoreau dedicated a lot of his life to gathering and sharing wisdom. This definition of wisdom is quite strange though. The whole definition depends of what you define as desperation. I think Thoreau’s definition of desperation is the effect of not acting on your own or with your own personal license. Following this theory this means that Thoreau could look at the smartest person in the world. Someone who seemingly had all the trapping of extravagant wisdom. But if that person was not doing it for a reason important to him he would not be wise. In the other words the absence of desperation leads to a small amount of wisdom. I’m not sure if I agree with this. Honestly a lot of Walden so far has been contradictory to my beliefs about what he is talking about. 


          Walden is a book with unflinching views from a seemingly unflinching man. I think that that’s the point of the book though. As far as I can tell everything Walden believes he truly, truly believes. He wants the reader to have to think about whether they believe or not. He does not give an easy out but makes the book hard enough to read to force them to really think about how they feel about the things he’s talking about. If he was a lesser writer it wouldn’t work but, because of his undeniably good writing he makes it work.


Giving a Damn

And figuring it out

is what fitz’s class is all about

the extra effort 

to push you over 

can feel harder than finding a four leafed clover


when the effort is given

you are livin

with the knowledge that you tried