The Danger of the Two Poem Essay Prompt

“Stop time’s on the board. Begin.”

Our AP English class hastily flipped the sheet over to reveal our biggest nemesis; the two poem essay question. The class let out a groan and began to write at rapid speed. I had hardly begun when I felt an immense chill running down my spine. Normally, I would have deducted this to Ms. Serensky silently judging my SOAPSTone, or just the usual antarctic-esque temperature of our classroom. However, this cold seemed more than just the AC cranked up to full blast. I discretely looked up to see snow descending from the ceiling in a soft flurry! I looked around at my classmates to see if anyone else noticed but everyone kept writing. 

Slowly, the snow began to become increasingly heavier and heavier until nearly everyone  had snow up to their snow boots. I soon realized that the faster everyone wrote, the stronger the snow fell. I tried to warn the others of it but they seemed oblivious to their frozen feet. Just when this day peaked it’s strangeness, Ms. Serensky called time. That can not be right, I thought to myself. After only five minutes, my whole class had already made it through half of their essays and I had only scraped a measly incomplete pre-write. I tentatively raised my hand...

“Um, Ms. Serensly, could I have a little more time?”

With the twitch of her eye I knew that I had sent myself into exile forever. Without a word she looked at the window and, as if on cue, in crashed Rorschach. The class carried on normally, discussing the implications of Rorschach’s choice to crash through the window. Rorschach sensed my fear and knew I was the one. He sauntered over to me, grabbed my by the ear and threw me into the back closet: a freezer containing all past AP English wrongdoers. As Rorschach closed the door on me I felt a sudden pang and...

“RORSCHACH, NO! HELP ME, MS. SERENSKY!”

I bolted upright from my desk, incomplete pre-writing stuck to my sweaty cheek. I look around to see all of my classmates staring at me in disbelief and Ms. Serensky’s eye still twitching. I must have dozed off while pondering the significance of the two poems. Oh well, at least I will have a funny quote this semester. I am definitely going in that back closet now.  

I Now Pronounce You an AP English Student

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today, in the sight of our guidance counselors, to witness and celebrate the union of this future AP English student to one of the most difficult courses in Chagrin Falls High School. Do not enter into this union lightly or unadvisedly but after much consideration, because by enrolling in this class, you commit yourself exclusively to the study of english until the end of your senior year. If you would, please turn to your counselor and take your vows*:

Do you, nervous sophomore, promise to complete all of your summer reading on time?

Do you also promise to finish all three of your books the day before school starts? We know you will not read over the summer.

Do you promise to remember where you sit in the circle to avoid class-wide chaos?

Will you always carry ten extra pens with you in case of an emergency?

Do you promise to always annotate your reading?

Will you ALWAYS answer the prompt?

Will you learn to do your homework on time?

Will you always dress appropriately for class? (A snow suit will suffice)

Do you promise to talk in class, even if you have no idea what to say?

Will you remember that Ms. Serensky does know what is best?

And finally, Do you promise to recognize the value of this class before you leave high school?

After answering “I Do” to all of these vows, the guidance counselors have decided that this union has hope to flourish. Yes, as all companions do, you will experience ups and downs alike, however we must learn to deal with these in effective and concise manners. AP English will prove a challenge to deal with on many days in your years together but what is success without the threat of failure? The best duos often come from those who have worked and struggled to achieve that happiness that they hold. So, ladies and gentlemen, after acknowledging these conditions, I am pleased to announce the union of a new AP English student to their life for the next two years.
You may now take out your pen. Till death do you part. 
*The student must recognize these “vows” as instructions on how to survive AP English. Good Luck.

AP English 12: The Kate Mackin Story

Finally, the end of the day. I can not think of a better way to spend every seventh period then with the best writing partners ever. Katie and Blythe just make every analysis that much more worthwhile as we stray from actual discussion and divulge into why the men in Watchmen fail in relationships. Everyone always acts like the room has snow falling from the sky, but it never really bothers me. My classmates must not be accustomed to the cold quite like my shorts in the winter fashion statement prepared me for. Alright, time to get down to business and journal. Oh no, who has a pen? Typically our entire writing trio does not own one single pen so I must scavenge for one. Lucky for me Adam pulls through and chucks a pen at my head. Good thing I won most athletic; cat-like reflexes. Thank God all we only had to journal today, I can not afford to work my hand too much before our big lax game tonight, but then again, it has rained all day today. I should ask Claire to check her email and see if Coach White cancelled it. Ordinarily I would check my own phone, but this is not spanish class and I can only get away with having my phone out in that class. Hola. Finally, we get to the best part of AP English: blog shows. I love the stimulating conversation that comes from this time during our class...wait, what did Ms. Serensky just say? Oh, we are not actually about to talk about tampons and condoms are we? I can feel myself getting red in the face from my silent laugh attacks and from sheer embarrassment that Derek just claimed that his wife will never need tampons. Men, am I right? Oh no, Ms. Serensky keeps asking me when I will bring in The Spooky Times that Rachel and I wrote. I really do not know where it resides, possibly at the bottom of my purse with my soggy mutilated workbook. Who knows what lies down there. Maybe if I keep forgetting to bring it, she will forget about it. I can only hope because I really do not want the woman who decides my grade in this class to see that. Why does Ms. Serensky love to bully me? She probably sat me right next to her so that she could throw out personal shots at me without the rest of the class hearing (which happens). If only I could understand her reasoning, maybe I would not feel so nervous every time she glanced up at me while I do my work. At last, 1:55 approaches and I walk down the hall only to receive an invitation to prom via two guys, four middle fingers. Men, am I right?

BE MY FRIEND

As an accepted member of Elon University, I have noticed the feasible hunger that people have for acceptance from others. Not simply others for that matter, but strangers. Once accepted into the University, the student automatically becomes a part of the Elon 2017 Facebook group, a place for people to find roommates and post about themselves. Yet as more and more people choose to attend Elon, the group became stranger. People post bios about themselves that would make eHarmony proud in hopes of finding friends or maybe that one special person with whom they will share a room with for their freshman year. This page has shown me that college, a time for self discovery and exploration, has become rather predictable. No one dares to venture out in their once in a lifetime chance to make friends through Facebook. They stick to “chill” people who “like to go out but care about grades too” and “are down for whatever” and will always “need a gym buddy”. This cookie cutter template for posting about oneself just proves that no one wants to make a wrong impression (if you want to hear about bad impressions, talk to me about orientation week). People worry about the judgements of complete strangers in fear that their Facebook posts will not attract any potential friends. More than twenty of these word for word replicas cloud my Facebook, my peers practically begging people to like them. Our society has come to making virtual friends and hoping that they will like you in person (again, ask about orientation). However for as fascinated I am by my future classmates and my constant fear that I will not make any friends, I have not posted on this page. At first my judgement of the overeager, Elon-lovers kept me away from joining the post about favorite TV shows, and then I began to choose who I wanted to friend based on if they posted on the wall. A post automatically crossed them off of my list, harsh but necessary during my time of hatred for the group. Yet now, I realize that the main reason I have not posted yet, lies in the fact that I do not know who I am yet and I certainly do not know how to accurately portray myself over the internet. I do not find myself in the cookie cutter category but how can I show others how I want them to view me if I remain unsure of that myself? So I must refrain from telling everyone my major and how “I’m SO not a morning person” until I know for a fact who I want to be. 

Snoop to Stay in the Loop

Dear I Hate Cupid,

I do not find it appropriate to blame a tiny cherub who has unfortunately stumbled across dangerous artillery for your romantic shortcomings. Cupid has nothing to do with your boyfriend’s lack of commitment or your clingy personality. That aside, I feel curious as to the series of events that lead to your loved one’s rapid departure from your relationship. Does he always act flaky or do you run his sanity out the window? Concerning. Assuming that you do not resemble a crazy cat lady in any way and try to stay away from obsessing over your boyfriend’s facebook, I will advise you as best as I can. You claim that your significant other desires to distance himself from you through a breakup, meaning limited contact and an avoidance of awkward run-ins. I would recommend snooping a little bit. You seem vague in your knowledge of his reasoning for breaking your fragile little heart and I think that would serve as a beneficial first step. Convince him to accompany you to Starbucks where you can talk out your problems over a scalding Americano and a scone. If he refuses, suggest a simple phone call where he needs to explain himself to you. You have the right to know if the simple-minded man has another lady or if he has simply become bored with your tea pot collection and ceramic cats. If he has a woman in the wings, I would recommend revenge. A little Carrie Underwood style of a swift key to the car or a slash to some tires always does the trick. However, if his motives remain honorable and he just feels as if the love train has made its final stop, accept it with dignity and exit the locomotive. It all depends on perspective, dear cupid hater. So, analyze the situation, determine all possible outcomes, weigh the positives and negatives of each, and act accordingly. If all goes smoothly then maybe Cupid will redeem himself, and if not, I suggest buying a puppy. They like to snuggle and will not judge you for polishing off another carton of Ben & Jerry’s.

Yours in Romantic Council,
Ms. Serensky

The Tenth Member of The Fellowship

I truly regret burdening my small amount of blog readers with yet another chance to gush about my unhealthy obsession. However, this prompt demands it of me and AP English 12 knows that I seldom pass up an opportunity to divulge into my love for The Lord of the Rings Trilogy. Yes, if I have not made it clear already, these remain my all time favorite movies. In the fear of harassment from Derek about picking a trilogy instead of “only one movie” I hesitantly tried to decide on which of the three that I love the most. This proved much easier than I expected after sitting in a movie theatre for thirteen hours for the three part marathon (an awesome, yet unfortunate truth). I came to the conclusion that my favorite has to fall to the second movie: The Two Towers; A fairly predictable choice as I find this movie to act as the climax of the story, yet I love it for many other reasons as well. Aside from my love for Aragorn, the ranger turned king, and his strong presence in this film, I think that the struggle of good versus evil bursts through to the forefront in this movie. The ultimate theme of these movies, the question of right from wrong, leaves families and friends divided, yet The Two Towers shows more unity than division as the Fellowship breaks up at the end of the first movie. A team player myself, I thoroughly enjoy seeing eternal grudges break in the name of a common purpose, eventually leading to friendships. Differences aside, exiled Rohiram help their people, the trees help the hobbits, and the elves help the men. This warms my overly sentimental heart and restores my faith in Middle Earth as victory and camaraderie often look dim in the darkness of their world. In a movie named after the two forces of evil, one can expect that to prevail throughout the story, and it does. However, this leads to the most intense battles in my opinion, and who does not love a good sword-swinging, arrow-shooting, orc infested war? All said, I think that I love this movie because the series does not finish. I often times find myself in a state of post-fantastic-movie depression and the best thing about this movie lies in the fact that it has not ended yet. The cliff hanger makes it all the more exhilarating as I quickly pop the third movie into my DVD player and set in for a final triumphant three hours.

To add ethos to my favorite movie claim, I have included the majority of my collection.
Not Pictured: Lord of the Rings Stratego, Lord of the Rings Scene It, and my Frodo Baggins
Halloween costume from fourth grade complete with light up sword and furry feet.

The Walk of Shame

This morning at ten I woke with a fright

Shocked and confused at what I did last night

It started out great I felt more than coherent

And now I’m faced with calling my parents

I hopelessly grope around the dark room

Trying to find my socks and left shoe

Not bothering to change from last night’s clothes

In too much of a rush to walk on tip toes.

But I guess that’s the price of not being cool

Staying up late to study made me late for school.

            In my poem, “The Walk of Shame”, I include many details which strengthen the uncomfortable tone throughout. Firstly, the title of my poem indicates awkwardness as many people in today’s society associate that phrase with something many people feel hesitant to discuss. The morals of today have trained people to think of the walk of shame as something to regret which I use in the obvious diction of “shame” to further my poem’s discomfort. In addition, my phrasing of “I woke with a fright”, laced with a shocked tone, implies regret for the consequences of the previous night, leaving the audience to imagine the different scenarios (1). This vagueness of this phrase in addition to others such as “Not bothering to change” creates a sense of suspense as I leave the interpretation solely up to the reader’s imagination (7). I believe that my stylistic technique to leave out punctuation until the final two lines puts the reader into the poem as they feel the frantic tone and continue reading without a pause, similarly to how the speaker feels in the poem. Finally, I think that the ending of the poem spares the reader from complete discomfort as I ease their imaginations with the true actions of the night and the purpose of the frazzled feeling the next morning. No one can relate to the walk of shame coming into school late quite like I can.

 

A Letter to a Friendless, Gender Confused Eleven-Year-Old

Dear pre-teen Blythe,

            I will start off by asking you a simple question. What are you thinking?! Now, I hope that does not strike you as too harsh, but I feel that I must implement tough love and take drastic measures in handling this very awkward phase. Where do I even begin? Well, let us start at the top. Your hair. Eleven year-old Blythe, that has to go, you look like a boy. I promise that everything will turn out alright if you stray from the china doll, pin straight hair complete with bangs (Foreshadowed Warning: DO NOT go back to them in eighth grade, they will not look any better in three years, trust me). On the topic of looking like a male…please for the sake of your dignity stop shopping in the boy department of Gap and Old Navy, camouflage cargo pants do not look good on anyone. Please take my warnings to heart as I really do know best and spare yourself future ridicule from your classmates about “the boy years”, it will scar you. On a similar note, try and make some more friends to greatly reduce your chance of receiving harassment and allow for less awkward times trying to find someone to sit with at lunch. However, do not lose yourself in order to make new friends. Keep rocking that Lord of the Rings jean jacket (obsession never goes out of style), keep trying to touch Mr. Dole’s mustache and achieve the impossible with all of your fingers still intact, pursue your love to read as it could become your future, remember that Girl Scouts is not lame and never quit as it earns you some big money in the future, and never stop Being Blythe (hint: make that the title of your seventh grade scrapbook). In short, little me, you are a strange young girl. However you will grow into your quirky demeanor and learn to embrace it. So keep up the good work, keep the hair growing, and keep out of the boy’s department. See you in seven years.

Love,

Almost eighteen-year-old Blythe

The First Second Hand

Lights. Lights so bright that they rivaled the stars on a perfectly black night. They illuminated the sweat dripping down the young patient’s face, dripping onto his new white shirt that his mother bought just for this occasion. He sat stiffly on the table with the white paper that ripped whenever he shifted nervously. He glanced around the white room, and wondered when someone would explain to him why they chose such an ugly color; so bland and emotionless save for a jubilant painting of children laughing which only made him more upset and uncomfortable. Finally, after watching the clock tick and his mother’s twiddling thumbs for what felt like hours, a group of people dressed in white coats walked into the room. He could see the eagerness etched on their faces and watched their lips move as their hands slapped together in what he knew as applause. For as long as he could remember, the young patient had made inferences about the world around him. Only guessing at the marvels that surrounded him yet never fully grasping the true sense of how others lived. He had longed for the day when he could once feel normal, like he belonged to this strange world full of silence. A world where he could let the chaos in his brain escape and fill the quiet exterior around him. To finally know noise. As he left his mind swirling with the implications of today, he looked up to see a nurse and her white teeth smiling at him. He understood a smile even without words. He smiled back, reassuring her that he felt ready. She reached over, brushing away his sandy blonde hair to find a new and improved ear. Click. The doctors smiled at him as they waited eagerly for him to start exploring the new world around him and said “Let’s have a second hand for our brave patient”. The young boy, rid of his deafness, heard his first sound; encouragement. He knew that the white of his hearing aid meant a new beginning.

Never Fully There

Today, dismally similar to most others, I take my seat in a number of different classes for a whole seven hours. My brain, try as it may, does not stand a chance against this test of time. My habitual lack of sleep and hatred to fully wake up does not allow full cognition from my brain unless jolted by the force of a pop quiz or a dreaded in class writing.  However even my brain does not always find these worthy causes to come out from underneath the covers and tackle the day. The day dreamer in my brain chooses today to wander and find interest in everything except for my very important lesson on probability. I stand no chance. He has already decided that the probability of focus rounds out to an approximate zero as he laughs in the face of math. Instead day dreamer notices the intricate details on the concrete wall behind the white board. Has that block always had so many cracks in it? And why do they paint it white? White, white board, math, focus. Yet again my mind slips and I wonder why anyone would wear that to school and they must feel so cold because of the snow and oh, look at the weather. Focus. The problems on the board have now changed and my brain claws at the walls of my head begging me to remember the crime show I watched last night and how realistic it seemed and what if a robber comes to my house and I should map an escape route: out my window, on the roof, jump into the snow, run. Run. I should run after school but I know I will not and now I feel lazy and when did we move to this problem? My day dreamer finds humor in my struggle to keep up and notes that I should focus…on how these problems relate to problems that I will help my kids with some day and we will live in a big house and now I have to name them and the bell rings. I look up to find that day dreamer has effortlessly won control of my focus during yet another class and I challenge him to a rematch which reminds me that I should probably play ping pong in commons. It starts again.

To Blogging and Beyond

When presented the task of choosing my best written blog, I will admit that I struggled with it. None of them seemed to exemplify my best work because they all had errors and flaws. However, after sifting through my blogs, cringing at the sight of a forgotten passive verb or a wrong tense, I finally chose one. M blog “What’s After High School?” best exemplifies my writing abilities for a number of reasons. Primarily, my many uses of Lord of the Rings analogies foreshadows a gleaming blog in the making (who could shy away from orks and adventure?). My use of similes in that way made my blog flow smoothly while remaining true to my obsessive personality. With this mindset I think that I truly set in the theme of the future as I discussed that Mr. Tolkien thought that we all could accomplish greatness even if we do tend to wander. My wandering for a great blog did not prove in vein! My all time favorite quote truly inspired me to attack this blog with zeal and do my best writing. In addition, I felt that my writing elevated at this point as I used more mature phrasing and word choice adding to my credibility as an up and coming blog super star. My new found enthusiasm for the blogger lifestyle left me in ceaseless analysis of everything around me and its potential for utilization in next week’s blog. I found my most interesting blog “Love Lessons Even Gatsby Can Understand” in a young girl and young love, imagine that. Quite a switch from the looming future. A former tireless tomboy, I could not help but show wonder at the dedication of this girl’s admirer nor her infatuation with every letter she received. I became intrigued and lived my romantic life vicariously through a ten-year-old. Yes, pathetic is indeed my middle name. However, after overcoming my awe with their “relationship” I noticed how much game this little boy has and how much our great hero Mr. Gatsby could learn from him. After awkward moments in the book magnified into immensely more awkward moments in the movie, I came to realize that the grandeur of Jay Gatsby proves only skin deep. He does not obtain the suavity of a fourth grade Romeo, which I find interesting. In addition to finding this blog my funniest, I think that it shows a lot about the naivety that youth possess. I made the assertion that the purest form of love comes from young people as they hold no reservations or secrets. I believe that this challenged my fellow bloggers while also making them laugh at the ridiculousness of this romance (and also at the shame of our lack of one).  I also found my favorite comment in a challenging statement. Megan Judge's comment on my blog “Popping the Bubble” made me rethink my opinion. She countered my view of the Chagrin “bubble” by stating that in order to gain other experiences one does not need to completely leave Chagrin behind but just expand their horizons. Her comment made me rethink my opinion and realize that I do not need to totally leave home behind in order to experience new things. All together, blogging this semester has strengthened my writing skills and my ability to look at the world through a different perspective.