Reflection
The goal of this project was for each student to think deeply about somewhere that makes them feel a strong sense of place. I connected this project greatly with the happiness and meaning project that was assigned earlier in the year. For me, I feel a sense of place when i’m with close friends and family, so for one part of the project, I wrote a personal essay recalling an experience with my grandpa, someone who I disagree with almost everything, from politics to sports teams. Since I struggled to fill the word requirement, and not wanting my essay to sound redundant, I crafted a two part essay, with the second part being about the feeling I get when I look at the sky. I speak to the pollutants released into the air, as well as the thought-provoking atmosphere the night sky provides for me.
The biggest struggle for me in this essay was reaching the word count without it sounding forced or redundant. After receiving general feedback about my essay, the most common, and obvious, feedback was the word count. After completing the part of my essay about my connection with the sky, I only could reach roughly 900 words. Knowing this would surely hurt my grade, I decided to write about my family, not a general essay, but a personal essay recounting one experience that shows how close we really are.
As a writer, I think I’ve grown a great deal because writing is something I would like to pursue as a career in the future, and this project helped me narrow down the type of writing I would like to pursue. I really enjoyed writing the personal essay about my grandparents and the car ride that we experienced together. While I enjoyed the personal writing, I didn't enjoy nature writing and the standard version of sense of place as much. Im usually more of a straight forward writer, as I like to communicate my ideas in an understandable way, but nature writing is more more of an abstract approach to writing, which I don't enjoy as much.
The biggest struggle for me in this essay was reaching the word count without it sounding forced or redundant. After receiving general feedback about my essay, the most common, and obvious, feedback was the word count. After completing the part of my essay about my connection with the sky, I only could reach roughly 900 words. Knowing this would surely hurt my grade, I decided to write about my family, not a general essay, but a personal essay recounting one experience that shows how close we really are.
As a writer, I think I’ve grown a great deal because writing is something I would like to pursue as a career in the future, and this project helped me narrow down the type of writing I would like to pursue. I really enjoyed writing the personal essay about my grandparents and the car ride that we experienced together. While I enjoyed the personal writing, I didn't enjoy nature writing and the standard version of sense of place as much. Im usually more of a straight forward writer, as I like to communicate my ideas in an understandable way, but nature writing is more more of an abstract approach to writing, which I don't enjoy as much.
Essay
Abstract
My sense of place is more complex than just one place. Instead of witting just one essay, I decided to write a sense of place about two things, which requires two separate pieces of writing. The first, titled “Sea of Blue”, is a sense of place I feel when I look up into the sky, and the thought it provokes. I included certain hints of my opinion of polluting the air in this essay, and have an entire paragraph dedicated to just that. “The therapy can be obstructed more easily than you would think. China is a prime example of this obstruction. What was once pure and blue, is now distorted and browned from an unforgiving smog”
The second piece is more of a personal essay about my relationship with my family. I feel a sense of belonging and home when I’m with them, regardless of the things we disagree on. In my writing, I recall an experience with my grandparents where an argument broke out in the car.
Sea of Blue
I’ve never quite felt a like this, not from a place. And that may be because it isn't one true place, not one place specifically where you find yourself to actually be at this place.
All you have to do is look up.
The sky, unlike most things in life, has many different faces, and shares many emotions. Undoubtedly taking your breath away with the pink, early morning light you’re greeted with day after day, and the last orange glow before you sleep, all come from not one specific place, a place you can find without having to search, without need to climb, jog, hike, or drive to see. The sky is made for everyone, and anything, to gaze upon.
The early riser, the fitness fanatic, or the restless sleeper can all account for “morning people,” but who could blame them? Who could think of them as odd for the desire to wake up and see sun welcomed by the sky? It wouldn't take much to make a morning person; the first look, the first time the crisp, cold air gave me goosebumps, I was a morning person. The dread of pulling yourself out of bed is taken from you the very first time. Theres no excitement, no heart race, but a feeling that you could get nowhere else.
At midday, your typical person would be at work, school, or what have you. Nobody takes the time, or the thought, to realize its there. Just think, for a moment, about its color, about flying in an airplane, passing through clouds. All up in the sky, through a sea of blue. Its easy to forget the obligations you’ve constructed for yourself, and the time that slips away without a notice. It’s therapeutic, really.
The therapy can be obstructed more easily than you would think. China is a prime example of this obstruction. What was once pure and blue, is now distorted and browned from an unforgiving smog. The billowing smoke, the never ending burning of coal and oil, all in the name of “progress” If only the progress wasn't in the wrong direction. Think of an airplane. Think of where it flies, what it’s made of. Theres the metal, mined from an abyss in the ground, exhausting our natural resources, destroying environments and habitats. The fuel, dredged from a plain in Texas, or ten times the ocean, only to be burned off by that airplane. The sky takes the bulk of the physical torment. The black plume from every coal-rolling truck, or construction contraption, the sky is forced to receive with open arms.
By the end of your 9-to-5, the sky appears as tired and frustrated as you. By the end of the day, the sky has suffered the torment that everyone has thrust upon it, but with much more to come. But still, by the end of the day, the sky puts on perhaps its most beautiful attire. Trading the cool, sunny blue, for a warm, embracing orange. The sun sinks through the sky, being dipped into the ocean, or swallowed by the mountains.
The majority of my life I have been a city kid, but every time I left the city, I couldn't help but look at the sky. The night sky, while absent from color, is the most thought provoking. Every star, every beam of life has its own story. The thought that every star is a Sun, that could be larger than ours, with planets surrounding it, with moons orbiting them. Then I think of life. What will happen tomorrow? The day after? Where will I be? Who will I be with? These are moments that I want to savor, to keep. I catch myself wishing I could freeze time, or return to this moment. I realize it will pass, and that while I will never be there again, the sky always will.
This place, while not a distinct place, stands out among all others. This is a place where you can simply be at peace.
How do you find it?
All you have to do is look up.
Family
Opposites attract, everyone knows that, and that might be why i’m close with my grandpa. Everything he believes, I believe the opposite, and when I say opposite, I mean opposite; He likes country, I like rap. He’s old-fashioned, I stay with the times. He likes Rubio, I like Bernie, the list could go on. My point isn't who's right and who's wrong, (because it’s obviously me) but how we came to disagree.
A road-trip filled with what I thought would be sight seeing all the way to my home town of St. Louis, turned to political and ideological debates about everything from climate change, to gay-marriage. After taking an earful of Fox News, I took a nap, playing music with headphones to take me away from Fox. I bumpy road reunited me with that oh so sweet sound of constant bickering over radio, which could no-doubt keep my grandpa entertained for hours on end. We were about to Amarillo, Texas, marking the halfway point in our journey to the mid-west. But I could only take so much Fox News, and listening to their side trash mine (and President Obama) without dispute pushed me over the edge.
I had to ask, maybe I shouldn't have, but I had to. An ultra-conservative guest on Fox News, granted it was an opinion segment of the show, was making accusation against Barack Obama saying he was born in Kenya, and holds a falsified birth certificate. I asked my Grandparents if they agreed with this guest, this Donald Trump. I was disappointed with their answers, but not surprised. Both agreed with the guest, but for different reasons. Keep in mind that they’re smart, successful people. My grandpa’s reasoning is what I expected: Obama was born in Kenya, snuck over by his father, and given a falsified birth certificate, all of which could be proven untrue with a quick Google search. My grandma’s answer was more interesting, but even more disappointing: not denying the he was born in Hawaii as I expected she would, but instead explained to that's Barack Obama was born in the United States, only Hawaii wasn't a state yet, so he isn't “natural born” Again, Google.
Both of our minds were made up before the argument even begins, there's no changing either of our minds. Maybe it's pride, maybe we’re just stubborn. That’s the way we’ve been since forever, and living two states apart doesn't change that, since every time we see each other, we pick right back up where we left off.
But we’re never sour to one another, always ending with a smile. I think distance helps that.
My sense of place is more complex than just one place. Instead of witting just one essay, I decided to write a sense of place about two things, which requires two separate pieces of writing. The first, titled “Sea of Blue”, is a sense of place I feel when I look up into the sky, and the thought it provokes. I included certain hints of my opinion of polluting the air in this essay, and have an entire paragraph dedicated to just that. “The therapy can be obstructed more easily than you would think. China is a prime example of this obstruction. What was once pure and blue, is now distorted and browned from an unforgiving smog”
The second piece is more of a personal essay about my relationship with my family. I feel a sense of belonging and home when I’m with them, regardless of the things we disagree on. In my writing, I recall an experience with my grandparents where an argument broke out in the car.
Sea of Blue
I’ve never quite felt a like this, not from a place. And that may be because it isn't one true place, not one place specifically where you find yourself to actually be at this place.
All you have to do is look up.
The sky, unlike most things in life, has many different faces, and shares many emotions. Undoubtedly taking your breath away with the pink, early morning light you’re greeted with day after day, and the last orange glow before you sleep, all come from not one specific place, a place you can find without having to search, without need to climb, jog, hike, or drive to see. The sky is made for everyone, and anything, to gaze upon.
The early riser, the fitness fanatic, or the restless sleeper can all account for “morning people,” but who could blame them? Who could think of them as odd for the desire to wake up and see sun welcomed by the sky? It wouldn't take much to make a morning person; the first look, the first time the crisp, cold air gave me goosebumps, I was a morning person. The dread of pulling yourself out of bed is taken from you the very first time. Theres no excitement, no heart race, but a feeling that you could get nowhere else.
At midday, your typical person would be at work, school, or what have you. Nobody takes the time, or the thought, to realize its there. Just think, for a moment, about its color, about flying in an airplane, passing through clouds. All up in the sky, through a sea of blue. Its easy to forget the obligations you’ve constructed for yourself, and the time that slips away without a notice. It’s therapeutic, really.
The therapy can be obstructed more easily than you would think. China is a prime example of this obstruction. What was once pure and blue, is now distorted and browned from an unforgiving smog. The billowing smoke, the never ending burning of coal and oil, all in the name of “progress” If only the progress wasn't in the wrong direction. Think of an airplane. Think of where it flies, what it’s made of. Theres the metal, mined from an abyss in the ground, exhausting our natural resources, destroying environments and habitats. The fuel, dredged from a plain in Texas, or ten times the ocean, only to be burned off by that airplane. The sky takes the bulk of the physical torment. The black plume from every coal-rolling truck, or construction contraption, the sky is forced to receive with open arms.
By the end of your 9-to-5, the sky appears as tired and frustrated as you. By the end of the day, the sky has suffered the torment that everyone has thrust upon it, but with much more to come. But still, by the end of the day, the sky puts on perhaps its most beautiful attire. Trading the cool, sunny blue, for a warm, embracing orange. The sun sinks through the sky, being dipped into the ocean, or swallowed by the mountains.
The majority of my life I have been a city kid, but every time I left the city, I couldn't help but look at the sky. The night sky, while absent from color, is the most thought provoking. Every star, every beam of life has its own story. The thought that every star is a Sun, that could be larger than ours, with planets surrounding it, with moons orbiting them. Then I think of life. What will happen tomorrow? The day after? Where will I be? Who will I be with? These are moments that I want to savor, to keep. I catch myself wishing I could freeze time, or return to this moment. I realize it will pass, and that while I will never be there again, the sky always will.
This place, while not a distinct place, stands out among all others. This is a place where you can simply be at peace.
How do you find it?
All you have to do is look up.
Family
Opposites attract, everyone knows that, and that might be why i’m close with my grandpa. Everything he believes, I believe the opposite, and when I say opposite, I mean opposite; He likes country, I like rap. He’s old-fashioned, I stay with the times. He likes Rubio, I like Bernie, the list could go on. My point isn't who's right and who's wrong, (because it’s obviously me) but how we came to disagree.
A road-trip filled with what I thought would be sight seeing all the way to my home town of St. Louis, turned to political and ideological debates about everything from climate change, to gay-marriage. After taking an earful of Fox News, I took a nap, playing music with headphones to take me away from Fox. I bumpy road reunited me with that oh so sweet sound of constant bickering over radio, which could no-doubt keep my grandpa entertained for hours on end. We were about to Amarillo, Texas, marking the halfway point in our journey to the mid-west. But I could only take so much Fox News, and listening to their side trash mine (and President Obama) without dispute pushed me over the edge.
I had to ask, maybe I shouldn't have, but I had to. An ultra-conservative guest on Fox News, granted it was an opinion segment of the show, was making accusation against Barack Obama saying he was born in Kenya, and holds a falsified birth certificate. I asked my Grandparents if they agreed with this guest, this Donald Trump. I was disappointed with their answers, but not surprised. Both agreed with the guest, but for different reasons. Keep in mind that they’re smart, successful people. My grandpa’s reasoning is what I expected: Obama was born in Kenya, snuck over by his father, and given a falsified birth certificate, all of which could be proven untrue with a quick Google search. My grandma’s answer was more interesting, but even more disappointing: not denying the he was born in Hawaii as I expected she would, but instead explained to that's Barack Obama was born in the United States, only Hawaii wasn't a state yet, so he isn't “natural born” Again, Google.
Both of our minds were made up before the argument even begins, there's no changing either of our minds. Maybe it's pride, maybe we’re just stubborn. That’s the way we’ve been since forever, and living two states apart doesn't change that, since every time we see each other, we pick right back up where we left off.
But we’re never sour to one another, always ending with a smile. I think distance helps that.
Essay Rough Draft
Sea of Blue
I’ve never quite felt a like this, not from a place. And that may be because it isn't one true place, not one place specifically where you find yourself to actually be at this place.
All you have to do is look up.
The sky, unlike most things in life, has many different faces, and shares many emotions. Undoubtedly taking your breath away with the pink, early morning light you’re greeted with day after day, and the last orange glow before you sleep, all come from not one specific place, a place you can find without having to search, without need to climb, jog, hike, or drive to see. The sky is made for everyone, and anything, to gaze upon.
The early riser, the fitness fanatic, or the restless sleeper can all account for “morning people,” but who could blame them? Who could think of them as odd for the desire to wake up and see sun welcomed by the sky? It wouldn't take much to make a morning person; the first look, the first time the crisp, cold air gave me goosebumps, I was a morning person. The dread of pulling yourself out of bed is taken from you the very first time. Theres no excitement, no heart race, but a feeling that you could get nowhere else.
At midday, your typical person would be at work, school, or what have you. Nobody takes the time, or the thought, to realize its there. Just think, for a moment, about its color, about flying in an airplane, passing through clouds. All up in the sky, through a sea of blue. Its easy to forget the obligations you’ve constructed for yourself, and the time that slips away without a notice. It’s therapeutic, really.
The therapy can be obstructed more easily than you would think. China is a prime example of this obstruction. What was once pure and blue, is now distorted and browned from an unforgiving smog. The billowing smoke, the never ending burning of coal and oil, all in the name of “progress” If only the progress wasn't in the wrong direction. Think of an airplane. Think of where it flies, what it’s made of. Theres the metal, mined from an abyss in the ground, exhausting our natural resources, destroying environments and habitats. The fuel, dredged from a plain in Texas, or ten times the ocean, only to be burned off by that airplane. The sky takes the bulk of the physical torment. The black plume from every coal-rolling truck, or construction contraption, the sky is forced to receive with open arms.
By the end of your 9-to-5, the sky appears as tired and frustrated as you. By the end of the day, the sky has suffered the torment that everyone has thrust upon it, but with much more to come. But still, by the end of the day, the sky puts on perhaps its most beautiful attire. Trading the cool, sunny blue, for a warm, embracing orange. The sun sinks through the sky, being dipped into the ocean, or swallowed by the mountains.
The majority of my life I have been a city kid, but every time I left the city, I couldn't help but look at the sky. The night sky, while absent from color, is the most thought provoking. Every star, every beam of life has its own story. The thought that every star is a Sun, that could be larger than ours, with planets surrounding it, with moons orbiting them. Then I think of life. What will happen tomorrow? The day after? Where will I be? Who will I be with? These are moments that I want to savor, to keep. I catch myself wishing I could freeze time, or return to this moment. I realize it will pass, and that while I will never be there again, the sky always will.
This place, while not a distinct place, stands out among all others. This is a place where you can simply be at peace.
How do you find it?
All you have to do is look up.
I’ve never quite felt a like this, not from a place. And that may be because it isn't one true place, not one place specifically where you find yourself to actually be at this place.
All you have to do is look up.
The sky, unlike most things in life, has many different faces, and shares many emotions. Undoubtedly taking your breath away with the pink, early morning light you’re greeted with day after day, and the last orange glow before you sleep, all come from not one specific place, a place you can find without having to search, without need to climb, jog, hike, or drive to see. The sky is made for everyone, and anything, to gaze upon.
The early riser, the fitness fanatic, or the restless sleeper can all account for “morning people,” but who could blame them? Who could think of them as odd for the desire to wake up and see sun welcomed by the sky? It wouldn't take much to make a morning person; the first look, the first time the crisp, cold air gave me goosebumps, I was a morning person. The dread of pulling yourself out of bed is taken from you the very first time. Theres no excitement, no heart race, but a feeling that you could get nowhere else.
At midday, your typical person would be at work, school, or what have you. Nobody takes the time, or the thought, to realize its there. Just think, for a moment, about its color, about flying in an airplane, passing through clouds. All up in the sky, through a sea of blue. Its easy to forget the obligations you’ve constructed for yourself, and the time that slips away without a notice. It’s therapeutic, really.
The therapy can be obstructed more easily than you would think. China is a prime example of this obstruction. What was once pure and blue, is now distorted and browned from an unforgiving smog. The billowing smoke, the never ending burning of coal and oil, all in the name of “progress” If only the progress wasn't in the wrong direction. Think of an airplane. Think of where it flies, what it’s made of. Theres the metal, mined from an abyss in the ground, exhausting our natural resources, destroying environments and habitats. The fuel, dredged from a plain in Texas, or ten times the ocean, only to be burned off by that airplane. The sky takes the bulk of the physical torment. The black plume from every coal-rolling truck, or construction contraption, the sky is forced to receive with open arms.
By the end of your 9-to-5, the sky appears as tired and frustrated as you. By the end of the day, the sky has suffered the torment that everyone has thrust upon it, but with much more to come. But still, by the end of the day, the sky puts on perhaps its most beautiful attire. Trading the cool, sunny blue, for a warm, embracing orange. The sun sinks through the sky, being dipped into the ocean, or swallowed by the mountains.
The majority of my life I have been a city kid, but every time I left the city, I couldn't help but look at the sky. The night sky, while absent from color, is the most thought provoking. Every star, every beam of life has its own story. The thought that every star is a Sun, that could be larger than ours, with planets surrounding it, with moons orbiting them. Then I think of life. What will happen tomorrow? The day after? Where will I be? Who will I be with? These are moments that I want to savor, to keep. I catch myself wishing I could freeze time, or return to this moment. I realize it will pass, and that while I will never be there again, the sky always will.
This place, while not a distinct place, stands out among all others. This is a place where you can simply be at peace.
How do you find it?
All you have to do is look up.