Introduction
In this project, we wrote personal narratives about anything that was an important time period of our life that impacted us, something that stood out, something that made us sad our happy... we could choose anything.
Throughout this project we learned the significance of journey, description, and dialogue, and how these 3 things are very important to go through to have a overall compelling writing piece.
We learned about The Hero's Journey and what should be included when writing a story to make it well structured and organized. But not only that we also needed help to add description into our pieces. We spent a week describing shells and what they look like and how to show not tell in writing. We then lastly learned about dialogue. In an activity we were given a short paragraph describing an event, and were put in groups where we had to create a script with characters and dialogue for each one of our group to act out in front of our class.
My narrative was about my sophomore track injury and how it affected me mentally, physically and the result.
Throughout this project we learned the significance of journey, description, and dialogue, and how these 3 things are very important to go through to have a overall compelling writing piece.
We learned about The Hero's Journey and what should be included when writing a story to make it well structured and organized. But not only that we also needed help to add description into our pieces. We spent a week describing shells and what they look like and how to show not tell in writing. We then lastly learned about dialogue. In an activity we were given a short paragraph describing an event, and were put in groups where we had to create a script with characters and dialogue for each one of our group to act out in front of our class.
My narrative was about my sophomore track injury and how it affected me mentally, physically and the result.
Launch
When we launched the "Book Project", it was very unusual.
We were in open wall, which meant out whole team was together with out wall down, and we were put in theater style seating. It was a regular morning where Dr P was showing his slides introducing the class. Dr P was gave us a prompt about how in exactly 365 days we will start our internships and what ideas we have for them. He let us have about 5 minutes to answer the question, after that, they went crazy.
We heard loud bangs on the door then Ms Soler came in running throwing papers everywhere. Then Dr P in the corner there a ball at one of his students. Then we see Ms Soler's shoe fly off into the class, the Dr P started jogging around the class with a sweat band. Ms Soler ran to her office, slammed the door and sat down with her feet on top of the desk. Everyone was so confused. After that crazy "scene" occurred, they then gave us another writing prompt about what we just saw or what happened.
After that, we walked to Von's shopping center with our write-club journal and starting interviewing random individuals about "The american dream, and where they come from, and their hopes/dreams". I person that stood out to me was a women who was probably in her late 50's, had a wife who she was currently traveling with across the country in an RV. There was a lot more detail but, its crazy how every person we pass by has a story of there own, and I think we understood that with this activity.
We were in open wall, which meant out whole team was together with out wall down, and we were put in theater style seating. It was a regular morning where Dr P was showing his slides introducing the class. Dr P was gave us a prompt about how in exactly 365 days we will start our internships and what ideas we have for them. He let us have about 5 minutes to answer the question, after that, they went crazy.
We heard loud bangs on the door then Ms Soler came in running throwing papers everywhere. Then Dr P in the corner there a ball at one of his students. Then we see Ms Soler's shoe fly off into the class, the Dr P started jogging around the class with a sweat band. Ms Soler ran to her office, slammed the door and sat down with her feet on top of the desk. Everyone was so confused. After that crazy "scene" occurred, they then gave us another writing prompt about what we just saw or what happened.
After that, we walked to Von's shopping center with our write-club journal and starting interviewing random individuals about "The american dream, and where they come from, and their hopes/dreams". I person that stood out to me was a women who was probably in her late 50's, had a wife who she was currently traveling with across the country in an RV. There was a lot more detail but, its crazy how every person we pass by has a story of there own, and I think we understood that with this activity.
Baseline writing piece
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We were asked to answer and write about, "What is an important even that has happened in your life?". This was kind of a starter to our project and a refresher to start writing.
I actually continued with my baseline writing piece and added a lot more and created my final. I continued with my main idea then added about what being a runner is, how I appreciate my legs, dialogue, and a lot more that helped wrap up everything together at the end. |
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Staging "How I Won the Right to the Streets of Memphis"
As a class we read the short story of "How I Won the Right to the Streets of Memphis". As groups we were assigned to a scene to act out to the class.
Me and Mia played the rolls to be the gang members, Javi played the main character, and Julian as the mom. We put the scene together by assignee the rolls and used props when performing the scene.
Looking back, I think we did this activity to strengthen our dialogue skills and learned how to describe words from a writing piece.
Me and Mia played the rolls to be the gang members, Javi played the main character, and Julian as the mom. We put the scene together by assignee the rolls and used props when performing the scene.
Looking back, I think we did this activity to strengthen our dialogue skills and learned how to describe words from a writing piece.
Initial Story Ideas
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In Write-Club we made a list with as many story ideas that we could think of.
We were given this list of questions to help us out:
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The ideas I came up with were:
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Hero's Journey
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At first I knew I didn't want to use the hero's journey packet because I didn't need it. I had a really good idea how my story would go and my piece ended up being very well structured. I then asked Dr P for more feedback and critique because I had already revised everything people were suggesting, very small things. He then suggested that I fill out the packet so I can have a more compelling plot. So I did, most of it was basically asking questions that I had already answered in my piece but I could totally see how this could help someone when writing a story. I noticed some questions that I answered had a response I haven't talked about in my story. Like when it asked, "What challenges did you face in the special world?". I wrote how people kept asking what was wrong with me at school and a lot more. Also "What was the greatest challenge in your journey?", I added more about how accepting what had happened and how that made me a stronger individual. Last but not least the result, "What happened after the crisis?". I concluded my narrative with my appreciation with my legs and how going through everything made me be able to understand others and help them with their situations. So I actually ended up adding a lot more things in my piece that I felt made it a wrap up a lot more smoothly and just say everything I felt throughout the event I wrote about.
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Final Shell Description
For this "exercise", we were individually given a shell to describe and write about. We had to use a lot of detail and were given some worksheets that would help us with that. There would be questions like, what the shell reminds me of, the shells shape, colors & textures, and special features.
Learning about this helped us apply description to our narratives so we can give it life and so when reading it people can actually picture the event. We learned how to show, not tell.
Learning about this helped us apply description to our narratives so we can give it life and so when reading it people can actually picture the event. We learned how to show, not tell.
Final Draft
Process
From the beginning I knew what I wanted to write about. The very first things we did was write in our write club about any important thing that happened in our life for like an hour (baseline writing piece), and I wrote about my injury. So that was basically my very first draft, I remember writing and writing and not stopping because I had so much to say, it was probably about 4 pages long in my journal when finishing.
Then we were told to start writing the draft in a document with complete detail and description.
After finishing that we got our critiques and throughout all this process we were learning different ways we could improve our narrative. With exercises with describing objects, to even creating scripts and dialogue.
On our last couple weeks on the daily we would get critiques from our peers and group members and every time I would revise it, I ended up adding something new to it. I probably read it 20 times these few weeks, to myself, to others.
Then came the last few days, there were specific people who were given the job to be an editor. Editors would make sure everyones final draft was ready to be published onto our book with no mistakes. One of the editors left comments to many parts of my story which were just minor things like having it be past or present tense, or even just having too many commas.
Once it was finished I was so happy because I felt like the final draft was perfect and I loved it. It described exactly how I felt in this important event. I honestly wanted to read it to everyone, which is something very rare for me.
Then we were told to start writing the draft in a document with complete detail and description.
After finishing that we got our critiques and throughout all this process we were learning different ways we could improve our narrative. With exercises with describing objects, to even creating scripts and dialogue.
On our last couple weeks on the daily we would get critiques from our peers and group members and every time I would revise it, I ended up adding something new to it. I probably read it 20 times these few weeks, to myself, to others.
Then came the last few days, there were specific people who were given the job to be an editor. Editors would make sure everyones final draft was ready to be published onto our book with no mistakes. One of the editors left comments to many parts of my story which were just minor things like having it be past or present tense, or even just having too many commas.
Once it was finished I was so happy because I felt like the final draft was perfect and I loved it. It described exactly how I felt in this important event. I honestly wanted to read it to everyone, which is something very rare for me.
The Last of A Beginning Season
Romans 8:22-25 (MSG) That is why waiting does not diminish us, any more than waiting diminishes a pregnant mother. We are enlarged in waiting. We, of course, don’t see what is enlarging us. But the longer we wait, the larger we become, and the more joyful our expectancy.
We were walking back to school. Panting, sweat running down my face. We had just finished 150 meter repeats on the hills. My mouth was dry, and I was breathing heavily. As we walked, clouds of dirt formed as our steps kicked up the dust from the trail. The sun was setting quickly. I could see the silhouette of High Tech High Chula Vista. The campus was almost completely empty of people. I started feeling pain on my ham string. Each time I lifted my leg, I felt the pull.
Once we got to school, it was dark and the moon was rising. I could see it hiding behind the canyons. I sat down on the cold concrete pavement to roll out the pain and discomfort. It was nothing much, just the occasional knot tightening up. I knew it would go away.
The next morning, I hurried putting on my spandex -- almost tripping from sliding my right foot into the left hole of the shorts. But then I realized I was putting them on backwards. I put my hair in a messy ponytail and brushed it back with hairspray. I sprinted downstairs, got a banana, and headed to the car. It was another usual Saturday morning. My sister and I were running late to practice, which started at 9am. As I got in the car, the bright sun against the windows created a glare. I heard the birds chirping, awakening a new day. I felt the fresh morning breeze as we drove to school.
As we pulled up to school I saw that everyone was finishing their warm-up laps. I quickly got my bag and jumped out of the car as soon as we parked.
2 laps. It only took 2 laps.
I started running relaxed. I was coming around the corner of the school I was about to finish, but noticed that the aching was back. I looked down and netted my brows in confusion. Something wasn’t right. I stopped. Could I be injured? I thought to myself. Not this season, not again. I promised myself I wouldn’t get hurt again.
I walked slowly to the grass field to drill out and stretch for my workout.
”Nicole, why are you limping?”, someone said.
I was in shock. I didn’t know what to do or say. Everyone was on top and surrounding me, asking if I was hurt.
My coach Dan then came up to me and asked: “What happened?”. I didn’t know what to answer.
“Coach, I don’t know. I feel like a sharp pain on my lower back and hamstring.”
It then clicked that it was the same pain I had last track season when I was in 9th grade -- the injury that held me back from running.
I said to him, “I think it’s the sciatica.”
The “Sciatica” is a nerve located on the lower back that runs all the way down your leg that hurts like hell if you strain it. I heard the words that came out of coach's mouth. The words that I was avoiding (this was probably the worst thing your trainer could tell you.) His next words were like nails raking on chalkboard.
He told me not to run.
I couldn’t believe it, the past was beginning to haunt me. It was the beginning of a new season with fresh legs. It hit me like a bus. In fact, it was worse than a bus. Was this the end of my running career? I felt my stomach turn, and my eyes started to water.
The start of a new season for a sport is a time where you start to train your body to be strong and push it to it’s highest limits, its when you become the best of your abilities and train your machine. And just with just a few words and a strain, your season can be over.
I wasn’t able to do the workout, so I started walking up the canyon. I was limping and I was broken.
Having a physical injury is something that brings pain, agony, discomfort, and suffering. But having a mental injury is something that brings sorrow, grief, sadness, and heartache. I realized I had both.
I was surrounded by tall yellow flowers with stems almost as tall as me. They were around the dirt path that seemed to go on forever, like a maze. It was an amazing view, but it was all a blur to me. I no longer felt the sunshine or heard the birds chirping. A tear broke free from my eyes, and then a stream let go. Wiping my eyes with my rough shirt no longer helped, as all it did was soak my shirt and make my face irritated and red. It felt like I was walking miles into the middle of nowhere. As I walked, I felt the urge to yell, to scream every breath I had in my lungs. As I was sobbing I started to pray out loud. I was begging to God to do this one miracle for me and heal me. I wasn’t ready to give up this early just like that. I wanted to fight for it and didn’t want to hold back, in that moment I would do anything. I said to him repeatedly, “I’ll do anything. Just please, please make this right for me. Make my legs work again.” I knew if I got a second chance I could achieve, but only to heal what has brought me pain.
In the beginning of my walk it felt like it was over, but when I got to the highest point of the hill it felt like there was hope.
Walking into school was miserable. The halls were full of students running to class. Some rushed, some calm. A usual day at school was no longer happy and exciting, it was dreary. I would rush to class everyday, the pain intensified by every dragging step.
When I got to class and sat down, it was as if I were sitting on a chair full of sharp glass. I felt sharp pains shooting up my leg and on my lower back. It was like 100 pinches at once.
I stood out in the halls. People would question how I’d walk. That was one of the worst parts -- getting reminded each time by someone new that I was someone who was weak and couldn’t run.
Friends, peers, and teachers would ask me: “What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Are you ok?” The first time, I stood there. Waiting, hoping for an answer to pop in my head. But nothing came out to respond right after, there was only about a million things going through my head.
Am I ok? No, actually no I’m not ok. I just found out I can’t run till my injury goes away, and I’m in pain by just standing up. I’m over here limping hoping nobody sees me and just another invisible student walking in the hall. But out of everyone you notice it? Does it look like I’m ok?
“Yes I’m fine.” I said, quickly walking away.
A day in hell felt like months, but I kept praying.
Freshman year with this same injury lasted 6 full weeks. I was only able to make it to 2 meets, Prelims, and finals.
In sophomore year, this pain came back. But I fought harder and it was a blessed miracle. I healed in 2 weeks, I was able attend almost all the meets except the first few.
I remember feeling pounds of pain being released from my chest when I started feeling less pain. Each day it healed more and more. I pictured myself running as hard as I can panting more each time my foot slammed on the ground producing more speed.
The thing about running is that anyone can do it. As much as you think you can’t, everyone can. It’s all a mental game. Running is nothing more than a series of arguments between the part of your brain that wants to stop and the part that wants to keep going. Physical strength will get you to the start line, but mental strength will get you to the finish line. The more you run, you see with every mile what your body is capable of. And when you race, you expect it to hurt, you don’t train for it to hurt, you train so you can tolerate it. If it doesn’t challenge you, it doesn't change you. And it never gets easier, you just get better then you use to be.
Although going through this physical and mental breakdown was hard (not to mention the horrible time period of pain) it taught me things I would have never known if I didn’t go through this.
I appreciate my legs for always holding me to the ground. They go through a lot on a daily basis. From walking, to jogging miles, to sprinting hundreds of meters, to lifting weights. When they get tanned by the sun because of the daily shorts I wear to run, and squeezing them into my tight leggings when I go to the gym. To the scarring I do to them when I spike myself with my spike shoes and bruises. The pulls, strains, and knots I cause from not enough stretching or putting too much pressure on them. This is an appreciation for my legs to still after 15 ½ years in my life still be there for me after all the pain if put them through. They let me do what I’m most passionate about and love.
Finishing the season I use my knowledge about my experiences to inspire people with running or helping them with their injuries. That with running, you truly need to have the heart to do it, if it means sweat, blood, and the occasional tear we keep on going.
I learned, you don’t truly joy till you sorrow. Or you don’t truly appreciate something till difficulty and failure.
We were walking back to school. Panting, sweat running down my face. We had just finished 150 meter repeats on the hills. My mouth was dry, and I was breathing heavily. As we walked, clouds of dirt formed as our steps kicked up the dust from the trail. The sun was setting quickly. I could see the silhouette of High Tech High Chula Vista. The campus was almost completely empty of people. I started feeling pain on my ham string. Each time I lifted my leg, I felt the pull.
Once we got to school, it was dark and the moon was rising. I could see it hiding behind the canyons. I sat down on the cold concrete pavement to roll out the pain and discomfort. It was nothing much, just the occasional knot tightening up. I knew it would go away.
The next morning, I hurried putting on my spandex -- almost tripping from sliding my right foot into the left hole of the shorts. But then I realized I was putting them on backwards. I put my hair in a messy ponytail and brushed it back with hairspray. I sprinted downstairs, got a banana, and headed to the car. It was another usual Saturday morning. My sister and I were running late to practice, which started at 9am. As I got in the car, the bright sun against the windows created a glare. I heard the birds chirping, awakening a new day. I felt the fresh morning breeze as we drove to school.
As we pulled up to school I saw that everyone was finishing their warm-up laps. I quickly got my bag and jumped out of the car as soon as we parked.
2 laps. It only took 2 laps.
I started running relaxed. I was coming around the corner of the school I was about to finish, but noticed that the aching was back. I looked down and netted my brows in confusion. Something wasn’t right. I stopped. Could I be injured? I thought to myself. Not this season, not again. I promised myself I wouldn’t get hurt again.
I walked slowly to the grass field to drill out and stretch for my workout.
”Nicole, why are you limping?”, someone said.
I was in shock. I didn’t know what to do or say. Everyone was on top and surrounding me, asking if I was hurt.
My coach Dan then came up to me and asked: “What happened?”. I didn’t know what to answer.
“Coach, I don’t know. I feel like a sharp pain on my lower back and hamstring.”
It then clicked that it was the same pain I had last track season when I was in 9th grade -- the injury that held me back from running.
I said to him, “I think it’s the sciatica.”
The “Sciatica” is a nerve located on the lower back that runs all the way down your leg that hurts like hell if you strain it. I heard the words that came out of coach's mouth. The words that I was avoiding (this was probably the worst thing your trainer could tell you.) His next words were like nails raking on chalkboard.
He told me not to run.
I couldn’t believe it, the past was beginning to haunt me. It was the beginning of a new season with fresh legs. It hit me like a bus. In fact, it was worse than a bus. Was this the end of my running career? I felt my stomach turn, and my eyes started to water.
The start of a new season for a sport is a time where you start to train your body to be strong and push it to it’s highest limits, its when you become the best of your abilities and train your machine. And just with just a few words and a strain, your season can be over.
I wasn’t able to do the workout, so I started walking up the canyon. I was limping and I was broken.
Having a physical injury is something that brings pain, agony, discomfort, and suffering. But having a mental injury is something that brings sorrow, grief, sadness, and heartache. I realized I had both.
I was surrounded by tall yellow flowers with stems almost as tall as me. They were around the dirt path that seemed to go on forever, like a maze. It was an amazing view, but it was all a blur to me. I no longer felt the sunshine or heard the birds chirping. A tear broke free from my eyes, and then a stream let go. Wiping my eyes with my rough shirt no longer helped, as all it did was soak my shirt and make my face irritated and red. It felt like I was walking miles into the middle of nowhere. As I walked, I felt the urge to yell, to scream every breath I had in my lungs. As I was sobbing I started to pray out loud. I was begging to God to do this one miracle for me and heal me. I wasn’t ready to give up this early just like that. I wanted to fight for it and didn’t want to hold back, in that moment I would do anything. I said to him repeatedly, “I’ll do anything. Just please, please make this right for me. Make my legs work again.” I knew if I got a second chance I could achieve, but only to heal what has brought me pain.
In the beginning of my walk it felt like it was over, but when I got to the highest point of the hill it felt like there was hope.
Walking into school was miserable. The halls were full of students running to class. Some rushed, some calm. A usual day at school was no longer happy and exciting, it was dreary. I would rush to class everyday, the pain intensified by every dragging step.
When I got to class and sat down, it was as if I were sitting on a chair full of sharp glass. I felt sharp pains shooting up my leg and on my lower back. It was like 100 pinches at once.
I stood out in the halls. People would question how I’d walk. That was one of the worst parts -- getting reminded each time by someone new that I was someone who was weak and couldn’t run.
Friends, peers, and teachers would ask me: “What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Are you ok?” The first time, I stood there. Waiting, hoping for an answer to pop in my head. But nothing came out to respond right after, there was only about a million things going through my head.
Am I ok? No, actually no I’m not ok. I just found out I can’t run till my injury goes away, and I’m in pain by just standing up. I’m over here limping hoping nobody sees me and just another invisible student walking in the hall. But out of everyone you notice it? Does it look like I’m ok?
“Yes I’m fine.” I said, quickly walking away.
A day in hell felt like months, but I kept praying.
Freshman year with this same injury lasted 6 full weeks. I was only able to make it to 2 meets, Prelims, and finals.
In sophomore year, this pain came back. But I fought harder and it was a blessed miracle. I healed in 2 weeks, I was able attend almost all the meets except the first few.
I remember feeling pounds of pain being released from my chest when I started feeling less pain. Each day it healed more and more. I pictured myself running as hard as I can panting more each time my foot slammed on the ground producing more speed.
The thing about running is that anyone can do it. As much as you think you can’t, everyone can. It’s all a mental game. Running is nothing more than a series of arguments between the part of your brain that wants to stop and the part that wants to keep going. Physical strength will get you to the start line, but mental strength will get you to the finish line. The more you run, you see with every mile what your body is capable of. And when you race, you expect it to hurt, you don’t train for it to hurt, you train so you can tolerate it. If it doesn’t challenge you, it doesn't change you. And it never gets easier, you just get better then you use to be.
Although going through this physical and mental breakdown was hard (not to mention the horrible time period of pain) it taught me things I would have never known if I didn’t go through this.
I appreciate my legs for always holding me to the ground. They go through a lot on a daily basis. From walking, to jogging miles, to sprinting hundreds of meters, to lifting weights. When they get tanned by the sun because of the daily shorts I wear to run, and squeezing them into my tight leggings when I go to the gym. To the scarring I do to them when I spike myself with my spike shoes and bruises. The pulls, strains, and knots I cause from not enough stretching or putting too much pressure on them. This is an appreciation for my legs to still after 15 ½ years in my life still be there for me after all the pain if put them through. They let me do what I’m most passionate about and love.
Finishing the season I use my knowledge about my experiences to inspire people with running or helping them with their injuries. That with running, you truly need to have the heart to do it, if it means sweat, blood, and the occasional tear we keep on going.
I learned, you don’t truly joy till you sorrow. Or you don’t truly appreciate something till difficulty and failure.
"Golden Moment" From Exhibition
A golden moment from exhibition was probably when I read/presented my narrative in exhibition.
At first I was nervous because the kids (audience) were a bit distracting and they were very loud so I thought they would interrupt me while reading it or they wouldn't pay attention. I also felt maybe they wouldn't like my piece because they didn't understand it or it was too long, but then it was my turn.
I went up there and Dr. P introduced me onto "stage". I started reading and it got dead silent, I was a bit nervous because I didn't want to stutter or read it wrong since when I practiced with my peers I kept making little mistakes. I was so into reading it that I said it with so much emotion, I felt like I was reliving the moment. The best part was I felt confident and wanted to keep reading, which is very rare for me since I get a little shy infant of big crowds.
Once I finished everyone applauded and it felt so good. It's like that one feeling when you've worked so hard on something then see all of it show at the end.
I was happy because when I got off stage I'd pass people and they would congratulate or comment about my piece being very good. I also was glad that I actually entertained the little kiddos because they were actually paying attentions while I read. This golden moment was very special to me, but I actually would want to improve it and take another step. I want to read it to more people, and I don't know how but one day it'll happen :)
At first I was nervous because the kids (audience) were a bit distracting and they were very loud so I thought they would interrupt me while reading it or they wouldn't pay attention. I also felt maybe they wouldn't like my piece because they didn't understand it or it was too long, but then it was my turn.
I went up there and Dr. P introduced me onto "stage". I started reading and it got dead silent, I was a bit nervous because I didn't want to stutter or read it wrong since when I practiced with my peers I kept making little mistakes. I was so into reading it that I said it with so much emotion, I felt like I was reliving the moment. The best part was I felt confident and wanted to keep reading, which is very rare for me since I get a little shy infant of big crowds.
Once I finished everyone applauded and it felt so good. It's like that one feeling when you've worked so hard on something then see all of it show at the end.
I was happy because when I got off stage I'd pass people and they would congratulate or comment about my piece being very good. I also was glad that I actually entertained the little kiddos because they were actually paying attentions while I read. This golden moment was very special to me, but I actually would want to improve it and take another step. I want to read it to more people, and I don't know how but one day it'll happen :)
