John Marshal once said, “It's been a long road, but I am sure that it will be worth the effort that everyone has put in.” As a child grows into a teenager and a struggle for power ensues with his parents, so the Government of the United States was growing up and struggling to wrench power for itself at the expense of states’ rights. For the first 50 years after the ratification of the Constitution, the issue of slavery magnified the struggle for sovereignty between states and federal government.
Slavery was an increasingly hot topic within the U.S. and there was only one way to solve it: let the federal government end slavery. Otherwise the state governments were going to persist with it and the disputes would continue to fester. The slave states were dubious that the American Society could even continue if the slaves were freed. Henry Clay said that the immediate abolition of slavery would be followed by a power struggle between Blacks and Whites. He argued that one race had to rule over the other, and freeing the slaves would result in a civil war and would end with the annihilation of one of the races (Doc H).
Fire was added to the slavery controversy when states, such as South Carolina, took steps to disrupt a federal program, the United States Postal service. Part of the abolitionists’ plan for ending slavery was sending propaganda down south in the form of mail. South Carolina recognized this tactic and responded with an inexorable blockage of northern mail into the state. Anything that looked like a letter from an abolitionist was simply thrown out and not delivered. The abolitionists appealed to the national government by arguing that the postal system was under federal control and that the government should take some kind of action against South Carolina.
The power to regulate commerce was also part of the “slavery debate.” The question was whether the states or the federal government could regulate the importation of slaves. If the federal government had the power to regulate interstate commerce, it had the power to regulate the slave trade, in other words, the entire southern economy!
On March 2, 1807, Congress passed an act to prohibit the importation of slaves. This act did not make it illegal to continue to own the slaves already in the country, but it did stop new slaves from being brought into the United States (Doc B). The slave states argued that it was their right to decide whether they were allowed to import slaves or not, but this did not matter. With the new act in place, the value of a plantation increased dramatically due to the amount of slaves owned. If the states could find a way to maintain regulation over this commerce, they could continue importing slaves, maintaining authority over them, and assuring their prosperity. Eventually, the Supreme Court, who determined the constitutionality of each case brought before it, made a decision in the “Gibbons vs. Ogden” case that resulted in the strengthening of Congress’ power to regulate the interstate commerce. As the road continued, the Federal government gained more power, inch by inch or mile by mile.
The struggle and debate about states’ rights versus Federal power also delved into which would be most beneficial to the prosperity of not only the states but also the nation as a whole. The slave states stated that slavery was the backbone of the American economy because both the southern and national economies were proportional to one another -- if one failed so would the other. The southern states argued that the abolition of slavery would lead to a cessation in national progress and the impossibility of the “American System” (doc. F). Congress, eventually, had the final word on slavery when it passed the Missouri Compromise. This Compromise, temporarily, kept the country even in the amount of slave and free states, but it also drew a line saying what land would later be slave or free. This line was the 360 30’ line that prohibited slavery in the rest of the Louisiana Purchase territory north of it (a vast amount of land). Whether the Congress realized it or not, they had determined that the power fell to the Federal government, and sooner or later slavery was going to come to an end.
The battle for power between the states and the federal government had been tiring and emotional and long, and slavery had been the sore spot. In the end, though, the long journey was probably worth the walk. Focusing on one specific issue, slavery, had led to the defining of the Nation and a determination of where ultimate sovereignty lay. The Civil War still lay ahead and struggles for power and authority continue today in more subtle ways, such as through the federal grant system that rewards states programs for following federal guidelines and objectives, and the judicial system has become an even more prominent player to boot.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Monday, September 29, 2008
Samantha - Play the Game - a short story for freshman English class FAHS
“Lacey, wake up!”
“Bahumbug! What time is it?”
“It’s 10:00 a.m. and mom made pancakes!”
“I’m not hungry, I’m tired, now go away Erin!”
Erin ran out of my room and slammed the door. “Finally peace and quite!” I thought to myself as I drifted back to sleep. I re-awoke at 2:00 p.m. and jumped into the shower. I stood there, in the shower, thinking back on the past year. So much had happened and so quickly: I had gone into high school, my older sister had gotten married and moved across the country to California, my brother had gone into the Marines and was in Iraq, and…I tried to block this part out, but it seemed to push itself through. Tears started to stream down my face, and the accident had happened. That horrible accident had ruined everything and everyone.
“Lacey! Get out of the shower! I need you to watch Erin, I have to go to work!”
“Okay, I’m coming mom.”
I turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. I tried to clear my thoughts as I wiped the tears from my eyes and got dressed. Mom had always said after the accident that “There was a time to be upset and hurt, and a time to put those feelings away and get on with life.” Now was a time to get on with life. Suddenly Erin bolted through my bedroom door and leaped onto the bed.
“So what are you going to play with me?”
“Nothing, I have homework I have to get done, and then I have to make dinner.”
Erin sulked out the door. She walked down the hall and then sat down on the navy blue carpet and leaned against the white hallway wall. Her head was in her hands and she pretended to cry. If I didn’t know my six year old sister very well I would buy into her acting- she was actually pretty good, but not good enough to fool me. When Erin really cried you knew it – she would wail and carry on and her normal pale complexion would turn beat red.
When the accident had happened everyone cried for days, everyone except Erin. I remember one time she came into my room without knocking like she always does and saw me crying. She ran over to me and climbed into my lap and asked me why I was crying in her sweet little five year old way. Mom had told her about the accident, but she was too little to really understand. So, I had just told her I had stubbed my toe. Erin slid out of my lap, kissed my big toe, and ran out of my room like nothing had happened.
I walked out of my room over to Erin and sat down in the hallway beside her. She looked up at me, but to my surprise she didn’t say anything. We just sat there in the middle of the hallway in silence. Finally after about ten minutes she and asked me if I wanted to go outside and play soccer with her. If she had asked me to do anything other than play soccer with her I wouldn’t have done it, but something in me told me to go outside with her.
Our whole family was ardent soccer fans. We all played except my mom. My older sister Taylor had played classic soccer for 4 years and then had stopped playing when she went to college. My older brother Jason had played 2 years of classic soccer and then went into the Marines where he was a police officer, but he still plays whenever he can. Then there was Erin who plays every weekend for our local team. I had started playing soccer when I was three. I had a lot of success and was probably one of the best players in our whole family. Two weeks before the accident I made the regional Olympic Development Program (ODP) team, and was selected to try-out for the u-14 national team at the Home Depot Center in California. As soon as I got home from the regional camp my dad started training with me- we went running together, we watched games together on TV, and of course we played against each other. He was probably the coolest dad on the planet and the luckiest one too. He had a beautiful wife, four amazing children, and he was a former captain on the U.S. men’s national team. After he retired he decided to be a police officer like he had planned before he made the national team.
“Ready, Lacey?”
“Ready, Erin!”
Erin dribbled at me, did a quick cut, and shot the ball with her toe into the goal.
“Erin, remember don’t kick with your toe! Use your laces!”
“I know, I just forgot okay?”
“Okay.”
There was no point in arguing with Erin, she either won, or she ran to her room and started crying. I passed the ball back out to Erin and she started to dribble at me again.
“Honk, Honk!”
Erin stopped and looked up. A black car parked in our driveway, and a man got out.
“So did you come to your senses and decide to start playing again?”
“No, I’m just playing with Erin so she’ll leave me alone so I can do my homework.”
“You know national camp is in 6 months. If you wanted I could get you a plane ticket and a try-out.”
“No thanks, I’m not interested anymore.”
“Well if you change your mind just give me a call. The national coaches know who you are and would love for you to start playing again.”
“If I change my mind, which I won’t, I’ll give you a call.”
“Okay, great! I’ll catch you later Lacey.”
“Bye coach.”
Just as quickly as he came he left.
“Who was that Lacey?”
“That was my old coach Erin.”
“Are you going to start playing again?”
“No. Hey it’s time to go inside.”
“Nooo! I don’t want to go inside!”
“I know but I have to go make dinner and you can’t be outside by yourself.”
“Fine. Can I watch TV then when we get inside?”
“Sure, why not.”
After two weeks of intense training my dad went to work like he did any other day. At 6:00 p.m. he didn’t get home like he normally did. My mom started to get worried after he still did not return home an hour later, so she decided to call the station. They didn’t know anything. They said he had left the station on time at 5:30 like he always did. My mom decided that we should go out looking for him, so she took me and Erin in one car, and Jason and Taylor took the other car. The police also said they would send out some officers to look for him. We searched all over the neighborhood, but we couldn’t find him. After an hour of searching we all met up at home, and that’s when the phone rang. That terrible phone call changed everything. It was Mike from the police station, he was one of dad’s best friends. He talked to my mom for 10 minutes as my siblings and I sat at the kitchen table waiting. We knew something was wrong when we watched mom hang up the phone and saw the tears steaming down her face. We all got in the car and headed to the hospital, when we arrived we were informed it was to late: Dad had already died.
After the accident had happened I stopped playing. Before the accident soccer was something I enjoyed doing, it was something my dad and I had in common and something we learned to love together- it was “our” thing. Of course Dad loved everyone in our family and he loved that everyone played soccer, but none of them went as far as I did. I thought about going to national camp even after the accident happened, but it didn’t seem as great because he wasn’t at home to enjoy it with.
“I’m home!”
“Mom! How was work?”
“Good, where’s your sister Erin?”
“She’s making dinner.”
“Oh great! I’m starving.”
After dinner I volunteered to clean up while mom and Erin went into the family room to watch Blue’s Clues. Erin didn’t get much time with mom, in fact I was more of a mother to her then mom was because I spent the most time with her. Even though Erin and I were 8 years apart we had a special kind of relationship together. She, at times, could be very annoying, but most of the time we were good friends. Even though she never understood the accident and never had to deal with it like I did, she somehow seemed to understand that I needed someone to help me get through it- and that’s just what she did. She probably didn’t even realize that she did help me cope, but she did by making me play soccer with her, and making me watch soccer on TV with her. She even tried to go running with me but that ended by us running 10 yards and me giving her a piggy-back ride back to the house. Erin helped me face soccer again without really getting me to start playing. She helped fill the hole in my heart by getting me back outside with her.
I finished cleaning the kitchen and went back to my room to do my homework. I sat down at my desk and opened up my geometry book, but I didn’t do any problems. Instead, I kept thinking about the accident. After we had gotten home from the hospital mom told us what had happened: Earlier that day dad had arrested a man for murder. He took the guy back to the station, filed the paper work, and then got in his car and started home at 5:30 like he normally did. After he got out of the parking lot he headed down route 44 towards home. As he was driving down the highway his check engine light came on. He didn’t think much of the check engine light and decided that he would have it looked at tomorrow. He turned on the radio and kept on driving. A couple minutes later he noticed a black car with dark windows following close behind him. Dad didn’t think much of it, but after he got off route 44 and started on some of the back roads towards home he noticed the car was still behind him. He pulled over to let the car pass but it stopped and a man got out of the car. Dad reached for his gun, but he had accidentally left it in his office at work. He started to put the car back into Drive, but the car turned off. The man got to the window and pulled a gun. He reached to open the door but dad has locked it and was dialing 911. The man shot the door handle three times and the door unlocked. He pulled dad out of the car and told him he shouldn’t have messed with his family and then he pulled the trigger. Dad died in the hospital two minutes before we arrived. Later we found out that the man who had killed Dad was the brother of the man he had arrested earlier that day and a spark pug had blown in the car causing it to turn off.
I noticed that my geometry book was now sopping wet and I was crying. I started to think about how things were different now. My sister was probably the only one besides Erin who lived a real life after the accident. She got married and moved from our small town in North Carolina to California with her husband. My brother who was planning on going to Duke decided to go into the Marines instead and become a police officer, probably because Dad was a police officer; soon after was deployed to Iraq. With only Erin and I still at home my mom decided that a fresh start would probably be best for us all, so we moved into a large white house in a cul-de-sac in New York. Once we settled in my mom got a job and worked 6 days a week as a nurse in the local hospital, and I went to school and babysat Erin.
I got up from my desk and walked into the family room where my mom sat on the couch watching the news while Erin slept on her lap. I sat down on the couch. She smiled at me and asked me how my day was. I told her it was okay.
“Mom, I know this is kind of sudden, but I think I want to start playing again.”
“What? Really? You know Lacey, I think that’s a great idea, it’s been to long since we’ve had a real soccer player living in the house. If you don’t mind me asking, though, what brought this on?”
“Well, when Erin took me outside today to play, I guess I realized how much I miss playing, and then my old coach stopped by and he told me that national camp is six months away and how he could get me a plane ticket and a try-out.”
“Well, whatever it was I’m really glad you’ve decided to start playing again.”
“Me too. I’m going to go call coach okay? And will you tell Erin when she wakes up for me?”
“Sure.”
I got up off the couch and ran back to my room, picked up the phone, and called my coach. He was really glad I had called and he started emailing and phoning the national coaches.
After I hung up with my coach Erin bolted through the door and over to me. She jumped into my lap and we started talking about soccer. For the first time since the accident I felt happy again. Maybe stopping soccer hurt me even more than playing the game my dad and I both loved. My mom had been wrong when she had said “There was a time to be upset and hurt, and a time to put those feelings away and get on with life,” instead she should have said “You can’t stop playing the game because you’re afraid to get hurt, instead you have to face your fears and play harder.”
“Bahumbug! What time is it?”
“It’s 10:00 a.m. and mom made pancakes!”
“I’m not hungry, I’m tired, now go away Erin!”
Erin ran out of my room and slammed the door. “Finally peace and quite!” I thought to myself as I drifted back to sleep. I re-awoke at 2:00 p.m. and jumped into the shower. I stood there, in the shower, thinking back on the past year. So much had happened and so quickly: I had gone into high school, my older sister had gotten married and moved across the country to California, my brother had gone into the Marines and was in Iraq, and…I tried to block this part out, but it seemed to push itself through. Tears started to stream down my face, and the accident had happened. That horrible accident had ruined everything and everyone.
“Lacey! Get out of the shower! I need you to watch Erin, I have to go to work!”
“Okay, I’m coming mom.”
I turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. I tried to clear my thoughts as I wiped the tears from my eyes and got dressed. Mom had always said after the accident that “There was a time to be upset and hurt, and a time to put those feelings away and get on with life.” Now was a time to get on with life. Suddenly Erin bolted through my bedroom door and leaped onto the bed.
“So what are you going to play with me?”
“Nothing, I have homework I have to get done, and then I have to make dinner.”
Erin sulked out the door. She walked down the hall and then sat down on the navy blue carpet and leaned against the white hallway wall. Her head was in her hands and she pretended to cry. If I didn’t know my six year old sister very well I would buy into her acting- she was actually pretty good, but not good enough to fool me. When Erin really cried you knew it – she would wail and carry on and her normal pale complexion would turn beat red.
When the accident had happened everyone cried for days, everyone except Erin. I remember one time she came into my room without knocking like she always does and saw me crying. She ran over to me and climbed into my lap and asked me why I was crying in her sweet little five year old way. Mom had told her about the accident, but she was too little to really understand. So, I had just told her I had stubbed my toe. Erin slid out of my lap, kissed my big toe, and ran out of my room like nothing had happened.
I walked out of my room over to Erin and sat down in the hallway beside her. She looked up at me, but to my surprise she didn’t say anything. We just sat there in the middle of the hallway in silence. Finally after about ten minutes she and asked me if I wanted to go outside and play soccer with her. If she had asked me to do anything other than play soccer with her I wouldn’t have done it, but something in me told me to go outside with her.
Our whole family was ardent soccer fans. We all played except my mom. My older sister Taylor had played classic soccer for 4 years and then had stopped playing when she went to college. My older brother Jason had played 2 years of classic soccer and then went into the Marines where he was a police officer, but he still plays whenever he can. Then there was Erin who plays every weekend for our local team. I had started playing soccer when I was three. I had a lot of success and was probably one of the best players in our whole family. Two weeks before the accident I made the regional Olympic Development Program (ODP) team, and was selected to try-out for the u-14 national team at the Home Depot Center in California. As soon as I got home from the regional camp my dad started training with me- we went running together, we watched games together on TV, and of course we played against each other. He was probably the coolest dad on the planet and the luckiest one too. He had a beautiful wife, four amazing children, and he was a former captain on the U.S. men’s national team. After he retired he decided to be a police officer like he had planned before he made the national team.
“Ready, Lacey?”
“Ready, Erin!”
Erin dribbled at me, did a quick cut, and shot the ball with her toe into the goal.
“Erin, remember don’t kick with your toe! Use your laces!”
“I know, I just forgot okay?”
“Okay.”
There was no point in arguing with Erin, she either won, or she ran to her room and started crying. I passed the ball back out to Erin and she started to dribble at me again.
“Honk, Honk!”
Erin stopped and looked up. A black car parked in our driveway, and a man got out.
“So did you come to your senses and decide to start playing again?”
“No, I’m just playing with Erin so she’ll leave me alone so I can do my homework.”
“You know national camp is in 6 months. If you wanted I could get you a plane ticket and a try-out.”
“No thanks, I’m not interested anymore.”
“Well if you change your mind just give me a call. The national coaches know who you are and would love for you to start playing again.”
“If I change my mind, which I won’t, I’ll give you a call.”
“Okay, great! I’ll catch you later Lacey.”
“Bye coach.”
Just as quickly as he came he left.
“Who was that Lacey?”
“That was my old coach Erin.”
“Are you going to start playing again?”
“No. Hey it’s time to go inside.”
“Nooo! I don’t want to go inside!”
“I know but I have to go make dinner and you can’t be outside by yourself.”
“Fine. Can I watch TV then when we get inside?”
“Sure, why not.”
After two weeks of intense training my dad went to work like he did any other day. At 6:00 p.m. he didn’t get home like he normally did. My mom started to get worried after he still did not return home an hour later, so she decided to call the station. They didn’t know anything. They said he had left the station on time at 5:30 like he always did. My mom decided that we should go out looking for him, so she took me and Erin in one car, and Jason and Taylor took the other car. The police also said they would send out some officers to look for him. We searched all over the neighborhood, but we couldn’t find him. After an hour of searching we all met up at home, and that’s when the phone rang. That terrible phone call changed everything. It was Mike from the police station, he was one of dad’s best friends. He talked to my mom for 10 minutes as my siblings and I sat at the kitchen table waiting. We knew something was wrong when we watched mom hang up the phone and saw the tears steaming down her face. We all got in the car and headed to the hospital, when we arrived we were informed it was to late: Dad had already died.
After the accident had happened I stopped playing. Before the accident soccer was something I enjoyed doing, it was something my dad and I had in common and something we learned to love together- it was “our” thing. Of course Dad loved everyone in our family and he loved that everyone played soccer, but none of them went as far as I did. I thought about going to national camp even after the accident happened, but it didn’t seem as great because he wasn’t at home to enjoy it with.
“I’m home!”
“Mom! How was work?”
“Good, where’s your sister Erin?”
“She’s making dinner.”
“Oh great! I’m starving.”
After dinner I volunteered to clean up while mom and Erin went into the family room to watch Blue’s Clues. Erin didn’t get much time with mom, in fact I was more of a mother to her then mom was because I spent the most time with her. Even though Erin and I were 8 years apart we had a special kind of relationship together. She, at times, could be very annoying, but most of the time we were good friends. Even though she never understood the accident and never had to deal with it like I did, she somehow seemed to understand that I needed someone to help me get through it- and that’s just what she did. She probably didn’t even realize that she did help me cope, but she did by making me play soccer with her, and making me watch soccer on TV with her. She even tried to go running with me but that ended by us running 10 yards and me giving her a piggy-back ride back to the house. Erin helped me face soccer again without really getting me to start playing. She helped fill the hole in my heart by getting me back outside with her.
I finished cleaning the kitchen and went back to my room to do my homework. I sat down at my desk and opened up my geometry book, but I didn’t do any problems. Instead, I kept thinking about the accident. After we had gotten home from the hospital mom told us what had happened: Earlier that day dad had arrested a man for murder. He took the guy back to the station, filed the paper work, and then got in his car and started home at 5:30 like he normally did. After he got out of the parking lot he headed down route 44 towards home. As he was driving down the highway his check engine light came on. He didn’t think much of the check engine light and decided that he would have it looked at tomorrow. He turned on the radio and kept on driving. A couple minutes later he noticed a black car with dark windows following close behind him. Dad didn’t think much of it, but after he got off route 44 and started on some of the back roads towards home he noticed the car was still behind him. He pulled over to let the car pass but it stopped and a man got out of the car. Dad reached for his gun, but he had accidentally left it in his office at work. He started to put the car back into Drive, but the car turned off. The man got to the window and pulled a gun. He reached to open the door but dad has locked it and was dialing 911. The man shot the door handle three times and the door unlocked. He pulled dad out of the car and told him he shouldn’t have messed with his family and then he pulled the trigger. Dad died in the hospital two minutes before we arrived. Later we found out that the man who had killed Dad was the brother of the man he had arrested earlier that day and a spark pug had blown in the car causing it to turn off.
I noticed that my geometry book was now sopping wet and I was crying. I started to think about how things were different now. My sister was probably the only one besides Erin who lived a real life after the accident. She got married and moved from our small town in North Carolina to California with her husband. My brother who was planning on going to Duke decided to go into the Marines instead and become a police officer, probably because Dad was a police officer; soon after was deployed to Iraq. With only Erin and I still at home my mom decided that a fresh start would probably be best for us all, so we moved into a large white house in a cul-de-sac in New York. Once we settled in my mom got a job and worked 6 days a week as a nurse in the local hospital, and I went to school and babysat Erin.
I got up from my desk and walked into the family room where my mom sat on the couch watching the news while Erin slept on her lap. I sat down on the couch. She smiled at me and asked me how my day was. I told her it was okay.
“Mom, I know this is kind of sudden, but I think I want to start playing again.”
“What? Really? You know Lacey, I think that’s a great idea, it’s been to long since we’ve had a real soccer player living in the house. If you don’t mind me asking, though, what brought this on?”
“Well, when Erin took me outside today to play, I guess I realized how much I miss playing, and then my old coach stopped by and he told me that national camp is six months away and how he could get me a plane ticket and a try-out.”
“Well, whatever it was I’m really glad you’ve decided to start playing again.”
“Me too. I’m going to go call coach okay? And will you tell Erin when she wakes up for me?”
“Sure.”
I got up off the couch and ran back to my room, picked up the phone, and called my coach. He was really glad I had called and he started emailing and phoning the national coaches.
After I hung up with my coach Erin bolted through the door and over to me. She jumped into my lap and we started talking about soccer. For the first time since the accident I felt happy again. Maybe stopping soccer hurt me even more than playing the game my dad and I both loved. My mom had been wrong when she had said “There was a time to be upset and hurt, and a time to put those feelings away and get on with life,” instead she should have said “You can’t stop playing the game because you’re afraid to get hurt, instead you have to face your fears and play harder.”
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Alexa - first resume - 9th grade
Alexa Weber
155 Spohn Rd.
Freeport, PA 16229
(412) 295-0628 (Home)
Education
1988 - 1998
High School Student, 9th Grade, Grace Homeschool
Awards received
1998 - Girl Scout Silver Award for doing the KTTGSC Website
1997 - Duquesne Computer Academy, Best Camper
1997 - Written and Illustrated By... “Little Sister” placed in the top 100
1997 - Homeschooler’s Art Contest, 2nd Place
1997 - Homeschooler’s Science Fair, 2nd Place for “Orbitz” project
1996 - Written and Illustrated by... “The Forsythia Bush” placed in the top 100
1995 - National Busch Gardens Physics Essay Contest, 2nd Place
Activities
Pittsburgh’s SIGGRAPH group for students, Telecommunity
College Psychology course at Transylvania Bible School
Girl Scouting (9th year)
Piano lessons (8th year)
Non-competitive Gymnastics
Duquesne University Computer Academy
Languages
French, 2 years
Latin, 1/2 year
Hobbies
Website programming and design
Graphics arts, Graphics design
Working with digital video
Drawing and art
Computer Software, Hardware
Creative and non-fiction writing
Work experience
Began 1996
SaySoSites, est. 1996
Home business
My first prestigious site was for Natl’ Christian recording artist, Point of Grace.
(http://www.nauticom.net/www/catspaw/pog/)
Designed Graffiti Showcase website (1997)
(http://www.graffiti.com)
Acme Scale and Supply Website (1997-98)
(http://www.acmescale.com)
Am currently working with Dorn Checkley on the Pittsburgh Coalition Against Pornography (PCAP) website. (Not yet online)
Computer Experience
Familiar with a number of major software programs including:
Adobe Photoshop 4.0, Microsoft Publisher, Microsoft Office, Fractal Painter 5.0, Macromedia Director 6.0, Macromedia Flash, Asymetrix DVP 4.0, HomeSite 3
(References Availible on Request)
155 Spohn Rd.
Freeport, PA 16229
(412) 295-0628 (Home)
Education
1988 - 1998
High School Student, 9th Grade, Grace Homeschool
Awards received
1998 - Girl Scout Silver Award for doing the KTTGSC Website
1997 - Duquesne Computer Academy, Best Camper
1997 - Written and Illustrated By... “Little Sister” placed in the top 100
1997 - Homeschooler’s Art Contest, 2nd Place
1997 - Homeschooler’s Science Fair, 2nd Place for “Orbitz” project
1996 - Written and Illustrated by... “The Forsythia Bush” placed in the top 100
1995 - National Busch Gardens Physics Essay Contest, 2nd Place
Activities
Pittsburgh’s SIGGRAPH group for students, Telecommunity
College Psychology course at Transylvania Bible School
Girl Scouting (9th year)
Piano lessons (8th year)
Non-competitive Gymnastics
Duquesne University Computer Academy
Languages
French, 2 years
Latin, 1/2 year
Hobbies
Website programming and design
Graphics arts, Graphics design
Working with digital video
Drawing and art
Computer Software, Hardware
Creative and non-fiction writing
Work experience
Began 1996
SaySoSites, est. 1996
Home business
My first prestigious site was for Natl’ Christian recording artist, Point of Grace.
(http://www.nauticom.net/www/catspaw/pog/)
Designed Graffiti Showcase website (1997)
(http://www.graffiti.com)
Acme Scale and Supply Website (1997-98)
(http://www.acmescale.com)
Am currently working with Dorn Checkley on the Pittsburgh Coalition Against Pornography (PCAP) website. (Not yet online)
Computer Experience
Familiar with a number of major software programs including:
Adobe Photoshop 4.0, Microsoft Publisher, Microsoft Office, Fractal Painter 5.0, Macromedia Director 6.0, Macromedia Flash, Asymetrix DVP 4.0, HomeSite 3
(References Availible on Request)
Brio Girl 2001 Contest Entry
B r i o G i r l E n t r y F o r m
Name: Alexa Nicole Weber Age: 16
Hobbies and Interests: Since my Teen Mania trips, missions and evangelism has been my biggest interest, both here and around the world. I enjoy learning American Sign Language and worshipping/leading worship through signing. I love praise and worship music, leading and participating (that’s what we were created for). Foreign language intrigues me and I’m looking at the possibility of study-abroad (or working with a missions organization) for a year after high school. I enjoy graphics arts/design and designing professional websites for businesses and for myself; past sites include the definitive Point of Grace Newsstand and my Teen Mania webpage (http://members.xoom.com/teenmaniac/). I also enjoy playing piano and keyboard, writing, non-competitive gymnastics, drama, being an encourager/counselor to my friends, ministering online, and sharing God’s love in every way that I can.
Church Attending: Christ Community Fellowship Evangelical Free
Pastor’s Name: Jeff Youell Church Phone:
Favorite Scripture and Why: Psalm 37. God gives us the desires of our heart. I’ve often heard this interpreted, “God will give us what we desire” but I think that perhaps what God gives us IS the desires themselves. I find it awesome that God puts His desires in our hearts so that we might yearn for the things He yearns for -- to bring the unsaved into his arms, to see lives changed -- and that we might passionately hunger to know Him more and to worship Him. This is the heart of worship, the heart of ministry, the heart of prayer: that our thoughts might be God’s thoughts, our desires the desires that He has placed into our hearts. What an awesome promise!
School Attending: Grace Homeschool School Activities: Pennsylvania Homeschoolers “Excelsior” magazine staff, online AP US History, American Sign Language, Shakespeare Sleepover Society (Homeschoolers Shakespeare Club), French, Grand Concours National French Exam, instructing at Flo’s Gymnastics, piano lessons (10th year), Holocaust Seminar/Art Competition (4th year), American High School Math Exam (3rd year), Written and Illustrated By... creative writing/art competition (5th year), Girl Scouts (working towards Gold Award, 11th year) Much of my time and energy goes into my youth group: Leadership/Planning team, leading worship, cell group leader, prayer meeting coordinator/facilitator.
Favorite Musical Artist: Sonic Flood; because of their call to come back to the heart of worship: it’s all about Jesus. We were created to be worshippers.
Community Service Projects You’ve Participated In: Teen Mania missions trips to the Dominican Republic (‘98) and Haiti (Christmas ‘98), Youth Group mission trip to Haiti (Summer ‘99), leading/organizing “Breakout” events for my youth group (“breaking out of ourselves and into the community with random acts of kindness”), church set up and tear down team (we meet in the YMCA so we have to set up chairs and tables and so on every week), “greeter” at church, outreach and evangelism team, leading Sunday morning worship periodically, crew leader at VBS, Agape Farm’s (home of Creation CCM festival) work weekends throughout the year, volunteer staff and setup team at Creation, Carnegie Science Center teen volunteer, participating in food drives, serving meals, and putting on services at Light of Life ministries (homeless shelter), , Compassion International child sponsor, participating in Habitat for Humanity projects
Career or Domestic Ambition: I’m interested in industrial design, but after going on missions, I find it hard to pursue any career that is not fulfilling the Great Commission, and most of all I want whatever I do to somehow be a ministry.
Favorite Family Activity and Why: Going out to dinner! We have fun sharing, laughing, and eating together.
B r i o G i r l P e r s o n a l E s s a y s
If Jesus was coming to speak at your school assembly, what topic would you want Him to address and why?
“Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life.”[1] Far from guarding their hearts, teenagers today are anxious to give their hearts away. The media’s message is that something is terribly wrong if you don’t have a “special someone.” Even Christian magazines are filled with comfort and counsel on “how to live without a date . . . if you must.” In their quest for security, people desperately tear off pieces of their hearts and give them away, leaving them lifeless and empty.
Jesus’ request is bold: “Love the Lord your God with ALL your heart.” Essentially he is saying, “forget these other things, give your heart to me.” This requires renouncing all else, gathering up the broken pieces, dying to self, and surrendering their whole hearts to God. Only then can he consume their hearts with his love. Instead, after giving most of their hearts away, they offer God mangled scraps. And they wonder why they’re so insecure! Anything less than God alone will never produce true security. His message is radical: You don’t need anyone else! His love is sufficient! “Love God. With ALL your heart.” This is the topic Jesus died to address.
Share with us when you became a Christian and how you’ve seen God at work in your life.
Although I’ve been a Christian since I can remember, I encountered God’s grace face-to-face and truly committed my life to him on 1-1-96, when I realized that Jesus died so that I could let go of my failures and burdens.
Since then, God’s been continually revealing that even when I am faithless, he remains faithful. When I was determined NOT to go with my church to Haiti because I wanted to go with Teen Mania and because the trip seemed so disorganized, He was faithful: when we had to teach English with almost no preparation, God revealed clearly that it was His work, not ours. When I feel alone, He reminds me of my utter dependence on Him. When I’m ready to throw up my hands in frustration with my youth group, He is faithful: He says “throw them up to me -- I have a plan.”[2] His faithfulness continues to flow through my life. In homeschooling, things that once seemed impossible, from SATs to staying organized, have become perfectly possible in God’s time. As I begin my college search, I know that worrying is futile: God has already found one for me. God is always faithful to complete what He begins.[3]
__________________
[1] Proverbs 4:23
[2] Quote from Fresh Wind Fresh Fire by Jim Cymbala
[3] Philippians 1:6
Name: Alexa Nicole Weber Age: 16
Hobbies and Interests: Since my Teen Mania trips, missions and evangelism has been my biggest interest, both here and around the world. I enjoy learning American Sign Language and worshipping/leading worship through signing. I love praise and worship music, leading and participating (that’s what we were created for). Foreign language intrigues me and I’m looking at the possibility of study-abroad (or working with a missions organization) for a year after high school. I enjoy graphics arts/design and designing professional websites for businesses and for myself; past sites include the definitive Point of Grace Newsstand and my Teen Mania webpage (http://members.xoom.com/teenmaniac/). I also enjoy playing piano and keyboard, writing, non-competitive gymnastics, drama, being an encourager/counselor to my friends, ministering online, and sharing God’s love in every way that I can.
Church Attending: Christ Community Fellowship Evangelical Free
Pastor’s Name: Jeff Youell Church Phone:
Favorite Scripture and Why: Psalm 37. God gives us the desires of our heart. I’ve often heard this interpreted, “God will give us what we desire” but I think that perhaps what God gives us IS the desires themselves. I find it awesome that God puts His desires in our hearts so that we might yearn for the things He yearns for -- to bring the unsaved into his arms, to see lives changed -- and that we might passionately hunger to know Him more and to worship Him. This is the heart of worship, the heart of ministry, the heart of prayer: that our thoughts might be God’s thoughts, our desires the desires that He has placed into our hearts. What an awesome promise!
School Attending: Grace Homeschool School Activities: Pennsylvania Homeschoolers “Excelsior” magazine staff, online AP US History, American Sign Language, Shakespeare Sleepover Society (Homeschoolers Shakespeare Club), French, Grand Concours National French Exam, instructing at Flo’s Gymnastics, piano lessons (10th year), Holocaust Seminar/Art Competition (4th year), American High School Math Exam (3rd year), Written and Illustrated By... creative writing/art competition (5th year), Girl Scouts (working towards Gold Award, 11th year) Much of my time and energy goes into my youth group: Leadership/Planning team, leading worship, cell group leader, prayer meeting coordinator/facilitator.
Favorite Musical Artist: Sonic Flood; because of their call to come back to the heart of worship: it’s all about Jesus. We were created to be worshippers.
Community Service Projects You’ve Participated In: Teen Mania missions trips to the Dominican Republic (‘98) and Haiti (Christmas ‘98), Youth Group mission trip to Haiti (Summer ‘99), leading/organizing “Breakout” events for my youth group (“breaking out of ourselves and into the community with random acts of kindness”), church set up and tear down team (we meet in the YMCA so we have to set up chairs and tables and so on every week), “greeter” at church, outreach and evangelism team, leading Sunday morning worship periodically, crew leader at VBS, Agape Farm’s (home of Creation CCM festival) work weekends throughout the year, volunteer staff and setup team at Creation, Carnegie Science Center teen volunteer, participating in food drives, serving meals, and putting on services at Light of Life ministries (homeless shelter), , Compassion International child sponsor, participating in Habitat for Humanity projects
Career or Domestic Ambition: I’m interested in industrial design, but after going on missions, I find it hard to pursue any career that is not fulfilling the Great Commission, and most of all I want whatever I do to somehow be a ministry.
Favorite Family Activity and Why: Going out to dinner! We have fun sharing, laughing, and eating together.
B r i o G i r l P e r s o n a l E s s a y s
If Jesus was coming to speak at your school assembly, what topic would you want Him to address and why?
“Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life.”[1] Far from guarding their hearts, teenagers today are anxious to give their hearts away. The media’s message is that something is terribly wrong if you don’t have a “special someone.” Even Christian magazines are filled with comfort and counsel on “how to live without a date . . . if you must.” In their quest for security, people desperately tear off pieces of their hearts and give them away, leaving them lifeless and empty.
Jesus’ request is bold: “Love the Lord your God with ALL your heart.” Essentially he is saying, “forget these other things, give your heart to me.” This requires renouncing all else, gathering up the broken pieces, dying to self, and surrendering their whole hearts to God. Only then can he consume their hearts with his love. Instead, after giving most of their hearts away, they offer God mangled scraps. And they wonder why they’re so insecure! Anything less than God alone will never produce true security. His message is radical: You don’t need anyone else! His love is sufficient! “Love God. With ALL your heart.” This is the topic Jesus died to address.
Share with us when you became a Christian and how you’ve seen God at work in your life.
Although I’ve been a Christian since I can remember, I encountered God’s grace face-to-face and truly committed my life to him on 1-1-96, when I realized that Jesus died so that I could let go of my failures and burdens.
Since then, God’s been continually revealing that even when I am faithless, he remains faithful. When I was determined NOT to go with my church to Haiti because I wanted to go with Teen Mania and because the trip seemed so disorganized, He was faithful: when we had to teach English with almost no preparation, God revealed clearly that it was His work, not ours. When I feel alone, He reminds me of my utter dependence on Him. When I’m ready to throw up my hands in frustration with my youth group, He is faithful: He says “throw them up to me -- I have a plan.”[2] His faithfulness continues to flow through my life. In homeschooling, things that once seemed impossible, from SATs to staying organized, have become perfectly possible in God’s time. As I begin my college search, I know that worrying is futile: God has already found one for me. God is always faithful to complete what He begins.[3]
__________________
[1] Proverbs 4:23
[2] Quote from Fresh Wind Fresh Fire by Jim Cymbala
[3] Philippians 1:6
2004 Ltrs About Lit contest entry re "The Cay" by T. Taylor
November 11, 2004
Mr. Theodore Taylor
1856 Catalina Street
Laguna Beach, CA 92615
Dear Mr. Taylor:
Your book, The Cay, made me want to play. When I knew I had to write a piece for the “Letters about Literature” contest, I’d just finished your book. I thought I might need to find another book to respond to because I didn’t think the fact that the book made me want to play was very significant. When my mother read me your article, “Exploding the Literary Canon,” including “A Wish for My Grandson,” I discovered several things that made me change my mind.
First of all, I found that you value play a great deal. I don’t know if you intended The Cay to be a catalyst for children’s imaginative playtimes, but that was what it was for me. It came along at just the right time too. You see I'm 12 years old and I'm “… at the threshold of my adult life” just like your grandson was in 1981! Just as he was watching the spaceship take off and land, I was watching the 2004 presidential election coverage on TV; I was even watching Hannity and Colmes! If I wasn’t doing that, I was at soccer practice or playing computer games and talking on IM or working on school. When I finished the book, that all changed because I wanted to be Phillip, marooned on an island and having to set up my own survival camp.
We live in the country and our property is surrounded by woods. I went into the woods and cleared a place under some big maples. I had some bricks that I used to make a fireplace. For my shelter, I dug a hole – a really large hole that took a long time to dig. I gathered branches and made a roof with them over the hole. I scavenged some logs from my dad’s log pile for a table. I set them on end and then laid a part of a 2 x 4 across them and nailed it down. My survival camp looked nice, but I wasn’t done. I found an old glass jar nearby and filled it with water and set it on my newly finished table. I made a garden plot by digging up the grass from under some of the trees and planting some old pumpkin and carrot seeds I found in our basement. Then I called “Stewdog” (my large boxer-lab-shepherd dog) to get into the hole with me. As I sat there petting him, I wondered what it must have been like for Phillip to have had to try and rebuild his camp after Timothy had died.
I thought that if I’d been Phillip I would have been incredibly sad, depressed, and guilty. Maybe I would have died because I wouldn’t have tried to save myself, but what would have made the difference would be the fact that Timothy’s dying had given my life value. Personally, I know my life has value because the Bible says so. It says the Son of God died for me. How much more value can there be than that? And, wasn’t Timothy being just like Jesus! By making this connection I think I’m doing what you wanted your grandson to do with relating the ghetto to the slave ship and connecting what he read in books with social issues.
I read in your article that you were criticized for having Timothy die in The Cay. I would like you to know that I am very pleased that you didn’t change that for the people who wanted your book to be “politically correct.” As I sat in the hole with “Stewdog,” I thought about how much respect I have for Timothy because he sacrificed his life for a selfish, prejudiced, white boy who was blind. Today, many adults can hardly be bothered with children. For example, I know so many children, younger than I am, who watch horror movies and I think they watch these because there’s no one to stop them. I don’t think Timothy would have let Phillip watch horror movies. Then there are all the abortions. I’m encouraged to know that there was a patient, loyal adult that gave his life for a young person; Timothy is a hero to me.
Reading The Cay has changed me in many different ways: like realizing the value of life, thinking about sacrifices people make and don’t make, making connections between books and life, and, of course, having the joy of pretend play again even though I am almost 13! Thank you Mr. Taylor for making me think about all of these important issues NOW before I go "blind" like Philip did
Sincerely yours,
Samantha Weber
Mr. Theodore Taylor
1856 Catalina Street
Laguna Beach, CA 92615
Dear Mr. Taylor:
Your book, The Cay, made me want to play. When I knew I had to write a piece for the “Letters about Literature” contest, I’d just finished your book. I thought I might need to find another book to respond to because I didn’t think the fact that the book made me want to play was very significant. When my mother read me your article, “Exploding the Literary Canon,” including “A Wish for My Grandson,” I discovered several things that made me change my mind.
First of all, I found that you value play a great deal. I don’t know if you intended The Cay to be a catalyst for children’s imaginative playtimes, but that was what it was for me. It came along at just the right time too. You see I'm 12 years old and I'm “… at the threshold of my adult life” just like your grandson was in 1981! Just as he was watching the spaceship take off and land, I was watching the 2004 presidential election coverage on TV; I was even watching Hannity and Colmes! If I wasn’t doing that, I was at soccer practice or playing computer games and talking on IM or working on school. When I finished the book, that all changed because I wanted to be Phillip, marooned on an island and having to set up my own survival camp.
We live in the country and our property is surrounded by woods. I went into the woods and cleared a place under some big maples. I had some bricks that I used to make a fireplace. For my shelter, I dug a hole – a really large hole that took a long time to dig. I gathered branches and made a roof with them over the hole. I scavenged some logs from my dad’s log pile for a table. I set them on end and then laid a part of a 2 x 4 across them and nailed it down. My survival camp looked nice, but I wasn’t done. I found an old glass jar nearby and filled it with water and set it on my newly finished table. I made a garden plot by digging up the grass from under some of the trees and planting some old pumpkin and carrot seeds I found in our basement. Then I called “Stewdog” (my large boxer-lab-shepherd dog) to get into the hole with me. As I sat there petting him, I wondered what it must have been like for Phillip to have had to try and rebuild his camp after Timothy had died.
I thought that if I’d been Phillip I would have been incredibly sad, depressed, and guilty. Maybe I would have died because I wouldn’t have tried to save myself, but what would have made the difference would be the fact that Timothy’s dying had given my life value. Personally, I know my life has value because the Bible says so. It says the Son of God died for me. How much more value can there be than that? And, wasn’t Timothy being just like Jesus! By making this connection I think I’m doing what you wanted your grandson to do with relating the ghetto to the slave ship and connecting what he read in books with social issues.
I read in your article that you were criticized for having Timothy die in The Cay. I would like you to know that I am very pleased that you didn’t change that for the people who wanted your book to be “politically correct.” As I sat in the hole with “Stewdog,” I thought about how much respect I have for Timothy because he sacrificed his life for a selfish, prejudiced, white boy who was blind. Today, many adults can hardly be bothered with children. For example, I know so many children, younger than I am, who watch horror movies and I think they watch these because there’s no one to stop them. I don’t think Timothy would have let Phillip watch horror movies. Then there are all the abortions. I’m encouraged to know that there was a patient, loyal adult that gave his life for a young person; Timothy is a hero to me.
Reading The Cay has changed me in many different ways: like realizing the value of life, thinking about sacrifices people make and don’t make, making connections between books and life, and, of course, having the joy of pretend play again even though I am almost 13! Thank you Mr. Taylor for making me think about all of these important issues NOW before I go "blind" like Philip did
Sincerely yours,
Samantha Weber
Name: Alexa Nicole Weber
Hobbies and Interests:
Besides working as a professional web designer (SaySoSites), I am a Contemporary Christian Music enthusiast and maintain the definitive web site for my role-models, Point of Grace. I also enjoy graphics arts/design, drawing and sketching, non-fiction writing, especially Christian articles, gymnastics, being an encourager/counselor to my friends, and just soaking up the little things that life is made of
Church Attending:
Christ Community Evangelical Free in Natrona Heights
Pastor’s Name: Jeff Youell
Phone: (724) 226-8082
Favorite Scripture and Why: Philipians 3:12-15
So many times I find myself looking back over all the times I fail at being mature in Christ and become discouraged or looking back and seeing how “good” I’ve been doing and become proud. This scripture reminds me to stop looking back and dwelling in the past, but to start pressing on towards what is ahead. No matter how weary I may be, I’ve got to press on and on with my eyes fixed on the goal. Let us run with perserverance.
School Attending: Homeschool
School Activities: College-level Intro to Psychology course at Transylvania Bible School, Young Life, Girl Scouts (9th year), Written and Illustrated By... competion (4th year), Holocaust Seminar/Art Competition (2nd year), American High School Math Exam, Alle-Kiski Science Show (3rd year), Telecommunity (SIGGRAPH students group), Duquesne University Multicultural Computer Academy, PA Homeschooler’s Writing Club (4th year), I am currently preparing for a Teen Mania mission trip I am taking this summer to the Dominican Republic.
Favorite Musical Artist: Carolyn Arends because her lyrics are so down-to-earth and real; it really speaks to me in the everyday troubles and triumphs of life. “I’m not afraid to live this life, you see it’s not like you’re rolling dice, it’s in the hands of God.”
Community Service Projects You’ve Participated In:
Goodwill clothing drive, creating favors residents of a local Hospice Care center, writing and directing the church’s Christmas and Easter plays, sending postcards for the American Cancer Society, organizing and directing Kiski Valley PCA’s sponsorship of a child through Compassion International
Career or Domestic Ambition:
I would love to work as an art director or in some other field of Christian music graphics design/video production, as a Christian counselor, or wherever God has in mind for me.
Favorite Family Activity and Why:
Going to Christian concerts with my entire family, including my little sister Samantha. It is so much fun just to be there all together worshipping God, watching my sis dancing and going nuts, meeting the artists, and talking about the concert all the way home.
As a Christian teen, what is one thing you’d change about today’s youths and why?
“Hope and love make life worth living, lack thereof makes a man grow old.” Without hope, what is there to live for? Without hope, life is meaningless. Without hope, there is no future. Today hosts a generation without purpose, without anything to hope in. Today hosts a generation that has strayed from God. After all, without God, there is nothing to hope for, no reason to live. There is a void in every person that can only be filled with God. Teens today are constantly searching for something to fill that void, but often look in all the wrong places, trying to fill it with drugs, alcohol, or "love" at any cost. The truth is that these things only sink them deeper into hopelessness and despair which often leads to tragic suicide and violent behavior. If I could change one thing about today's youths, it would be that they would find hope. Even if it is simply a hope that comes from knowing that there IS something REAL that can fill that void, and that they might someday, somehow, find it.
What’s been a significant moment in your personal walk with Christ?
God isn’t looking for “dead” Christians. He is looking for Christians who are passionate and serious, those with FIRE in their eyes. When I returned from Teen Mania’s “Acquire the Fire” (ATF) youth conference, my eyes were opened to realize what it means to be MATURE in Christ. A lot of times I have been a dedicated but “passive” Christian, simply “letting go and letting God.” It is true that salvation is all God’s work and that I can not earn it or deserve it, but I now know that MATURITY is something I’ve got to work for and perservere at. I’m not perfect, but by relying on God’s strength I want to start fighting in a way to win the prize. Fighting against temptation in my life, fighting against my selfish will, fighting to “take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me.” (Phil. 3:12) I now want to be “infatuated with God” and to live every little aspect of my life for Him. ATF challenged me to dedicate myself more completely to striving towards perfection til the day that He returns.
Hobbies and Interests:
Besides working as a professional web designer (SaySoSites), I am a Contemporary Christian Music enthusiast and maintain the definitive web site for my role-models, Point of Grace. I also enjoy graphics arts/design, drawing and sketching, non-fiction writing, especially Christian articles, gymnastics, being an encourager/counselor to my friends, and just soaking up the little things that life is made of
Church Attending:
Christ Community Evangelical Free in Natrona Heights
Pastor’s Name: Jeff Youell
Phone: (724) 226-8082
Favorite Scripture and Why: Philipians 3:12-15
So many times I find myself looking back over all the times I fail at being mature in Christ and become discouraged or looking back and seeing how “good” I’ve been doing and become proud. This scripture reminds me to stop looking back and dwelling in the past, but to start pressing on towards what is ahead. No matter how weary I may be, I’ve got to press on and on with my eyes fixed on the goal. Let us run with perserverance.
School Attending: Homeschool
School Activities: College-level Intro to Psychology course at Transylvania Bible School, Young Life, Girl Scouts (9th year), Written and Illustrated By... competion (4th year), Holocaust Seminar/Art Competition (2nd year), American High School Math Exam, Alle-Kiski Science Show (3rd year), Telecommunity (SIGGRAPH students group), Duquesne University Multicultural Computer Academy, PA Homeschooler’s Writing Club (4th year), I am currently preparing for a Teen Mania mission trip I am taking this summer to the Dominican Republic.
Favorite Musical Artist: Carolyn Arends because her lyrics are so down-to-earth and real; it really speaks to me in the everyday troubles and triumphs of life. “I’m not afraid to live this life, you see it’s not like you’re rolling dice, it’s in the hands of God.”
Community Service Projects You’ve Participated In:
Goodwill clothing drive, creating favors residents of a local Hospice Care center, writing and directing the church’s Christmas and Easter plays, sending postcards for the American Cancer Society, organizing and directing Kiski Valley PCA’s sponsorship of a child through Compassion International
Career or Domestic Ambition:
I would love to work as an art director or in some other field of Christian music graphics design/video production, as a Christian counselor, or wherever God has in mind for me.
Favorite Family Activity and Why:
Going to Christian concerts with my entire family, including my little sister Samantha. It is so much fun just to be there all together worshipping God, watching my sis dancing and going nuts, meeting the artists, and talking about the concert all the way home.
As a Christian teen, what is one thing you’d change about today’s youths and why?
“Hope and love make life worth living, lack thereof makes a man grow old.” Without hope, what is there to live for? Without hope, life is meaningless. Without hope, there is no future. Today hosts a generation without purpose, without anything to hope in. Today hosts a generation that has strayed from God. After all, without God, there is nothing to hope for, no reason to live. There is a void in every person that can only be filled with God. Teens today are constantly searching for something to fill that void, but often look in all the wrong places, trying to fill it with drugs, alcohol, or "love" at any cost. The truth is that these things only sink them deeper into hopelessness and despair which often leads to tragic suicide and violent behavior. If I could change one thing about today's youths, it would be that they would find hope. Even if it is simply a hope that comes from knowing that there IS something REAL that can fill that void, and that they might someday, somehow, find it.
What’s been a significant moment in your personal walk with Christ?
God isn’t looking for “dead” Christians. He is looking for Christians who are passionate and serious, those with FIRE in their eyes. When I returned from Teen Mania’s “Acquire the Fire” (ATF) youth conference, my eyes were opened to realize what it means to be MATURE in Christ. A lot of times I have been a dedicated but “passive” Christian, simply “letting go and letting God.” It is true that salvation is all God’s work and that I can not earn it or deserve it, but I now know that MATURITY is something I’ve got to work for and perservere at. I’m not perfect, but by relying on God’s strength I want to start fighting in a way to win the prize. Fighting against temptation in my life, fighting against my selfish will, fighting to “take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me.” (Phil. 3:12) I now want to be “infatuated with God” and to live every little aspect of my life for Him. ATF challenged me to dedicate myself more completely to striving towards perfection til the day that He returns.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Brio Girl Contest 2000
B r i o G i r l E n t r y F o r m 2000
Name: Alexa Nicole Weber Age: 15 Birth Date: 11/20/83
Address: 155 Spohn Rd. City: Freeport State: PA Zip: 16229
Phone: (724) 295-0628
Hobbies and Interests: Since this past summer when I went to the Dominican Republic with Teen Mania, I’ve been turned on to missions and world cultures. Evangelism and the following the Great Commission is my biggest interest, both here and around the world. I enjoy graphics arts/design and designing professional websites for buisnesses and for myself, past sites include the definitive Point of Grace Newsstand and my Teen Mania webpage (http://members.xoom.com/teenmaniac/). I love to worship God and I love praise and worship music. I also enjoy drawing and sketching, playing piano and keyboard, writing Christian articles, non-competitive gymnastics, drama, being an encourager/counselor to my friends and ministering online, and sharing God’s love in every way that I can.
Church Attending: Christ Community Evangelical Free
Pastor’s Name: Jeff Youell
Favorite Scripture and Why: 2 Corinthians 4:7
Although I am nothing but a simple clay vessel, fragile and easily broken, God has chosen to put His great treasure in me, which is so humbling. This verse reminds me that my life should be a reflection of GOD’S power and GOD’S glory, that when people look at me they do not see ME, a cracked up pot, but they should see God in all His glory. I should not seek my own glory in anything that I do, but rather let Christ shine through me.
School Attending: Homeschool School Activities: Youth Group Leadership/Planning team, accountability/discipleship group mentor in Sunday AM youth, writing for our church newsletter, “The Sower,” ThinkQuest web design competition project entitled “Culture Shock - an interactive Exploration of World Cultures,” Written and Illustrated By... creative writing/art competition (5th year), Holocaust Seminar/Art Competition (4th year), American High School Math Exam (2nd year), PA Homeschooler’s Writing Club (5th year), Girl Scouts (working towards Gold Award, 10th year), Homeschoolers French Club. Although I have resigned from my Point of Grace website after realizing that I needed to refocus more completely on God, I still write Bible studies for Grace Notes, my Point of Grace Unofficial Email Newsletter, sharing with over 1,000 subscribers insights on “living as points of God’s grace.”
Favorite Musical Artist: the Newsboys because they challenge teens to get serious for God and their music serves as a reminder to me to “look up, cause the world looks on”
Community Service Projects You’ve Participated In: Teen Mania missions trips to the Dominican Republic (‘98) and Haiti (Christmas ‘98), Agape Farm’s (home of Creation festival) work weekends throughout the year as well as setup and teardown at Creation CCM festival, Compassion International child sponsor, Carnegie Science Center teen voulenteer, church set up and tear down team (we meet in the YMCA and set up chairs and tables and so on every week), leading Sunday morning worship, food drives for Light of Life ministries, Sunday School teen assistant, Random Acts of Kindness “Blitz” day,
Career or Domestic Ambition: I’d like to work in some field of graphics arts, but God knows the plans He has for me and my desire is to go wherever He leads and do whatever He calls me to do.
Favorite Family Activity and Why:
As a Christian teen, what is one thing you’d change about today’s youths and why?
Everything was created for a reason. As the Sunday School song says, “God made birds to fill the skies . . . but we were made to love the Lord.” Today hosts a generation of young people who have lost their purpose and their vision. This generation has even been termed, “Generation X,” a generation that doesn’t stand for anything. They have turned away from Jesus and have lost sight of the Savior. Until you find a cause worth dying for, you’re not really living. Life without purpose is more tragic than death. Everyone hungers to find the meaning of life. Teens try to quench their purpose- hunger with drugs, alcohol, “love” at any cost, sinking them deeper into despair which often leads to tragic suicide and violent behavior. After all, without purpose, life loses the precious, priceless worth that God made it to have; life becomes cheap. If I could change one thing about today’s youths, it would be that they would once again find hope, purpose and meaning in life. Ultimately, it would be that they would find Jesus. We were made to love the Lord.
What’s been a significant moment in your personal walk with Christ?
Love the Lord Your God with ALL your HEART, SOUL, MIND and STRENGTH. A year ago, I was really into Christian music. I talked about it, did websites about it, thought about it, read about it -- you get the idea. I was in over my head, yet I did not want to admit it. Following an Acquire the Fire youth conference, my youth group got together and had a bonfire. On this fire we were to lay down a symbol of anything that captured our hearts more than God, as if laying it down for God to consume. I lay down my love for CCM. Little did I know that I was preparing my heart for a radical life-change. When I surrended my heart COMPLETELY to God, He filled my life like never before. The day after laying down my heart on that “alter,” I felt renewed. I realized what it meant to give God my WHOLE heart. Now, God’s love has become everything to me, He is my life. My time, my all belongs to Him and I want to commit everything to Him -- all my heart, strength, mind, and soul. My heart belongs to Jesus.
If Jesus was coming to speak at your school assembly, what topic would you want Him to address and why?
Having been homeschooled my entire life, I don’t exactly HAVE a school assembly and have been somewhat sheltered from seeing the struggles that my peers face. Yet there is one thing that I do see in the eyes of my peers, in myself, and in everyone. We all want to be loved. We all want to feel like we belong.
Share with us when you became a Christian and how you’ve seen God at work in your life.
Though I asked Jesus into my heart when I was 3, it was not until I entered my teen years that what Jesus did became a reality to me. We had just moved and I was lonely and worn out by school and somewhat visionless. Then, I read in Brio’s “God said, I said” that God wants “even ONE girl” who is willing to follow Him no matter what the cost. I wanted to be that girl! I tried hard to obey God in everything, but the harder I tried, the more I realized how often I failed. Desparation set in. One evening, while sitting on my bed crying, the song, “I’ll Lead You Home” came on my radio. “Let it go and turn it over to the One who chose to give His life for you.” I suddenly realized that Jesus didn’t want me to hold onto my sins and burdens. HE DIED SO THAT I COULD LET THEM GO. I felt as though a burden had been lifted right off of my shoulders. I was free. God has blessed me so much and has become my life’s foundation. I see a little more of Him day by day.
“We are taking every thought captive to the obedience of God - 2 Cor. 10:5
Grace Homeschool (since 1989)
TRANSCRIPT FOR 1997-98 SCHOOL YEAR
STUDENT: Alexa Weber GRADE: 9th
GPA (estimate based on records): 3.98
Name: Alexa Nicole Weber Age: 15 Birth Date: 11/20/83
Address: 155 Spohn Rd. City: Freeport State: PA Zip: 16229
Phone: (724) 295-0628
Hobbies and Interests: Since this past summer when I went to the Dominican Republic with Teen Mania, I’ve been turned on to missions and world cultures. Evangelism and the following the Great Commission is my biggest interest, both here and around the world. I enjoy graphics arts/design and designing professional websites for buisnesses and for myself, past sites include the definitive Point of Grace Newsstand and my Teen Mania webpage (http://members.xoom.com/teenmaniac/). I love to worship God and I love praise and worship music. I also enjoy drawing and sketching, playing piano and keyboard, writing Christian articles, non-competitive gymnastics, drama, being an encourager/counselor to my friends and ministering online, and sharing God’s love in every way that I can.
Church Attending: Christ Community Evangelical Free
Pastor’s Name: Jeff Youell
Favorite Scripture and Why: 2 Corinthians 4:7
Although I am nothing but a simple clay vessel, fragile and easily broken, God has chosen to put His great treasure in me, which is so humbling. This verse reminds me that my life should be a reflection of GOD’S power and GOD’S glory, that when people look at me they do not see ME, a cracked up pot, but they should see God in all His glory. I should not seek my own glory in anything that I do, but rather let Christ shine through me.
School Attending: Homeschool School Activities: Youth Group Leadership/Planning team, accountability/discipleship group mentor in Sunday AM youth, writing for our church newsletter, “The Sower,” ThinkQuest web design competition project entitled “Culture Shock - an interactive Exploration of World Cultures,” Written and Illustrated By... creative writing/art competition (5th year), Holocaust Seminar/Art Competition (4th year), American High School Math Exam (2nd year), PA Homeschooler’s Writing Club (5th year), Girl Scouts (working towards Gold Award, 10th year), Homeschoolers French Club. Although I have resigned from my Point of Grace website after realizing that I needed to refocus more completely on God, I still write Bible studies for Grace Notes, my Point of Grace Unofficial Email Newsletter, sharing with over 1,000 subscribers insights on “living as points of God’s grace.”
Favorite Musical Artist: the Newsboys because they challenge teens to get serious for God and their music serves as a reminder to me to “look up, cause the world looks on”
Community Service Projects You’ve Participated In: Teen Mania missions trips to the Dominican Republic (‘98) and Haiti (Christmas ‘98), Agape Farm’s (home of Creation festival) work weekends throughout the year as well as setup and teardown at Creation CCM festival, Compassion International child sponsor, Carnegie Science Center teen voulenteer, church set up and tear down team (we meet in the YMCA and set up chairs and tables and so on every week), leading Sunday morning worship, food drives for Light of Life ministries, Sunday School teen assistant, Random Acts of Kindness “Blitz” day,
Career or Domestic Ambition: I’d like to work in some field of graphics arts, but God knows the plans He has for me and my desire is to go wherever He leads and do whatever He calls me to do.
Favorite Family Activity and Why:
As a Christian teen, what is one thing you’d change about today’s youths and why?
Everything was created for a reason. As the Sunday School song says, “God made birds to fill the skies . . . but we were made to love the Lord.” Today hosts a generation of young people who have lost their purpose and their vision. This generation has even been termed, “Generation X,” a generation that doesn’t stand for anything. They have turned away from Jesus and have lost sight of the Savior. Until you find a cause worth dying for, you’re not really living. Life without purpose is more tragic than death. Everyone hungers to find the meaning of life. Teens try to quench their purpose- hunger with drugs, alcohol, “love” at any cost, sinking them deeper into despair which often leads to tragic suicide and violent behavior. After all, without purpose, life loses the precious, priceless worth that God made it to have; life becomes cheap. If I could change one thing about today’s youths, it would be that they would once again find hope, purpose and meaning in life. Ultimately, it would be that they would find Jesus. We were made to love the Lord.
What’s been a significant moment in your personal walk with Christ?
Love the Lord Your God with ALL your HEART, SOUL, MIND and STRENGTH. A year ago, I was really into Christian music. I talked about it, did websites about it, thought about it, read about it -- you get the idea. I was in over my head, yet I did not want to admit it. Following an Acquire the Fire youth conference, my youth group got together and had a bonfire. On this fire we were to lay down a symbol of anything that captured our hearts more than God, as if laying it down for God to consume. I lay down my love for CCM. Little did I know that I was preparing my heart for a radical life-change. When I surrended my heart COMPLETELY to God, He filled my life like never before. The day after laying down my heart on that “alter,” I felt renewed. I realized what it meant to give God my WHOLE heart. Now, God’s love has become everything to me, He is my life. My time, my all belongs to Him and I want to commit everything to Him -- all my heart, strength, mind, and soul. My heart belongs to Jesus.
If Jesus was coming to speak at your school assembly, what topic would you want Him to address and why?
Having been homeschooled my entire life, I don’t exactly HAVE a school assembly and have been somewhat sheltered from seeing the struggles that my peers face. Yet there is one thing that I do see in the eyes of my peers, in myself, and in everyone. We all want to be loved. We all want to feel like we belong.
Share with us when you became a Christian and how you’ve seen God at work in your life.
Though I asked Jesus into my heart when I was 3, it was not until I entered my teen years that what Jesus did became a reality to me. We had just moved and I was lonely and worn out by school and somewhat visionless. Then, I read in Brio’s “God said, I said” that God wants “even ONE girl” who is willing to follow Him no matter what the cost. I wanted to be that girl! I tried hard to obey God in everything, but the harder I tried, the more I realized how often I failed. Desparation set in. One evening, while sitting on my bed crying, the song, “I’ll Lead You Home” came on my radio. “Let it go and turn it over to the One who chose to give His life for you.” I suddenly realized that Jesus didn’t want me to hold onto my sins and burdens. HE DIED SO THAT I COULD LET THEM GO. I felt as though a burden had been lifted right off of my shoulders. I was free. God has blessed me so much and has become my life’s foundation. I see a little more of Him day by day.
“We are taking every thought captive to the obedience of God - 2 Cor. 10:5
Grace Homeschool (since 1989)
TRANSCRIPT FOR 1997-98 SCHOOL YEAR
STUDENT: Alexa Weber GRADE: 9th
GPA (estimate based on records): 3.98
Friday, May 2, 2008
Reverse Psychology
A Writing Club Assignment from Winter 2004. The assignment was to retell in the first person a personal story involving one of your parents.
By Samantha Weber
"Is that all you want?" the clerk asked.
"Yes, that will be all," I calmly answered (although on the inside I was shaking).
It was a Saturday afternoon and my friend, Jerri Lee, and I were buying cigarettes for the first time. We had gone across town so that no one would recognize us. Being only 12 years old, we both knew that what we were doing what was against the law and our parents would definitely not approve either; so we hid the package of cigarettes in a Q-Tip box and put that in the deepest pocket of our identical, soft black leather purses. As we nervously walked down the sidewalk, we started to jibber jabber about how easy it was to buy the cigarettes ,how the clerk was so clueless, and, of course, how we acted like 18 year olds. When we reached her house I said goodbye so I could go home and watch my favorite shows, Pinky Lee, I Love Lucy, and Jackie Gleason, on TV. Once I was finished watching TV, I ate a quick dinner and went upstairs to bed because I had to get up for church in the morning.
I woke up to the sun shining in my face and got out of bed. Dressed in a blue straight skirt and a red cardigan sweater, plus my cool bobby socks and penny loafers, I walked downstairs, out the door, and down the street to Jerri Lee's house to walk to church with her. After singing in the choir and listening to the pastor preach about loving your neighbors, we walked back with our black purses hanging on our shoulders. We both went inside her house to listen to a new 45 of You Ain't Nothing But A Hound Dog on Jerri Lee's new pink High Fi. On the way upstairs we heard her mother doing dishes in the kitchen as we unthinkingly dropped our purses on her couch. Jerri Lee's little sister, Darlene, out of the clear blue, grabbed my purse, stuck her chubby little hand down in it, and pulled out the Q-Tip box and ran and gave it to her mother. Her mother was shocked to find: Cigarettes! Angrily, she chased me out of the house and told me that I better "hot-foot it get home" and tell my mother that I was smoking before the phone rang and she told her!. Huffing and puffing, I ran up my stairs, flung open my mother's bedroom door, jumped onto the bed, woke her up, and told her the sad truth: I smoked cigarettes! Much to my surprise, she calmly answered that if I wanted to smoke, that was fine, and to just stay away from Mary Janes (marijuana). Although I had the approval of my mother, I never smoked again! That was when I was first introduced to reverse psychology.
By Samantha Weber
"Is that all you want?" the clerk asked.
"Yes, that will be all," I calmly answered (although on the inside I was shaking).
It was a Saturday afternoon and my friend, Jerri Lee, and I were buying cigarettes for the first time. We had gone across town so that no one would recognize us. Being only 12 years old, we both knew that what we were doing what was against the law and our parents would definitely not approve either; so we hid the package of cigarettes in a Q-Tip box and put that in the deepest pocket of our identical, soft black leather purses. As we nervously walked down the sidewalk, we started to jibber jabber about how easy it was to buy the cigarettes ,how the clerk was so clueless, and, of course, how we acted like 18 year olds. When we reached her house I said goodbye so I could go home and watch my favorite shows, Pinky Lee, I Love Lucy, and Jackie Gleason, on TV. Once I was finished watching TV, I ate a quick dinner and went upstairs to bed because I had to get up for church in the morning.
I woke up to the sun shining in my face and got out of bed. Dressed in a blue straight skirt and a red cardigan sweater, plus my cool bobby socks and penny loafers, I walked downstairs, out the door, and down the street to Jerri Lee's house to walk to church with her. After singing in the choir and listening to the pastor preach about loving your neighbors, we walked back with our black purses hanging on our shoulders. We both went inside her house to listen to a new 45 of You Ain't Nothing But A Hound Dog on Jerri Lee's new pink High Fi. On the way upstairs we heard her mother doing dishes in the kitchen as we unthinkingly dropped our purses on her couch. Jerri Lee's little sister, Darlene, out of the clear blue, grabbed my purse, stuck her chubby little hand down in it, and pulled out the Q-Tip box and ran and gave it to her mother. Her mother was shocked to find: Cigarettes! Angrily, she chased me out of the house and told me that I better "hot-foot it get home" and tell my mother that I was smoking before the phone rang and she told her!. Huffing and puffing, I ran up my stairs, flung open my mother's bedroom door, jumped onto the bed, woke her up, and told her the sad truth: I smoked cigarettes! Much to my surprise, she calmly answered that if I wanted to smoke, that was fine, and to just stay away from Mary Janes (marijuana). Although I had the approval of my mother, I never smoked again! That was when I was first introduced to reverse psychology.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Are You Normal? by Alexa Weber
Did you know that one in five women confess to sleeping regularly with a stuffed animal (as do five percent of men), that 27.1 percent of Americans regularly chew on pens and pencils, and that if you DON’T set your clock ahead of the actual time, you’re part of a minority that makes up only 1/3 of the population? So says this humorous little book I picked up at Barnes and Noble the other day entitled, “Are You Normal?” (by Bernice Kanner). Now obviously this book resulted from an intense, nationally-conducted, professional study, but it left me wanting to find out for myself: What IS normal homeschool behavior, and am I normal? I drew up a survey of questions ranging from “What do you wear to ‘school’?” to “Describe your portfolio-keeping skills” and sent it all over Pennsylvania. At first I was delighted when responses came flowing back. Then I was terrified. “HOW WAS I GOING TO COMPILE STATISTICS FROM ALL OF THESE?!” It took me a day and a half just to READ them all! Even more intimidating was the extreme variety of answers. How could I tell what was NORMAL homeschool behavior? And finally, the most alarming was the response to my random question, “Are you normal?” I may have gotten three, at most, responses from people claiming to be normal! At this point I shook my head and kissed my statistical quest goodbye. The best I could do was observe, quote, and laugh with the 55 responses, and I pray you’ll do the same as I relate my absolutely unofficial observations and quotes from a large batch of people who refuse to be labeled . . . NORMAL!
Going to School = Going to Bed: Where and How Homeschoolers Study
Although almost every response contained a check by the option, “While Sleeping,” I was not surprised to find that most did claim that in bed, locked in a bedroom, with a pile of cats and dogs on top (“My dog LOVES to listen to me yell at my frustrating math book!” –Karah C), was the favorite position for education. (After all, that’s what *I* do. My classroom system: Mom’s Bed = Physics, English and Math class; My Bed = Economics and Literature reading; etcetera):
“I usually curl up in bed and study/read as little as possible. Just kidding. I do almost all my work in my bed. It keeps me comfortable and quiet and lets me focus.” –Audrey N
“In the early morning (and sometimes late morning if I'm feeling particularly lazy) I like to study snuggled under my bedcovers… although I have to admit that I don't get a whole lot of studying done as for some strange reason my eyes don't want to stay open...” –Rachel S
“I try to avoid the desk and the kitchen table; they make work seem too much like work.” -Mark G
“I usually start on my school work before I even get out of bed in the morning.” –April H
“I alternate between lying on my back and propping the book on my knees, and lying on my side with one elbow supporting me, laying across the bed with my head over the edge and the book on the floor, and laying on my stomach with both elbows propping me up, changing positions whenever I get cramped” -Matthias Hess
“I read with my little angelic teddy bear. I'll have you know that it inspires me that I'm not the only one reading the book, especially if it is boring.” –Sarah T
Homeschoolers are skilled at making almost anywhere into a ”school,” however, and responses included, “On my porch swing” (Amber Ross), “In my car in a parking lot” (Kate Deely), and “Sitting in my chair backwards with my legs hanging over the side, and periodically practicing ballet in between concurring and dissenting Supreme Court opinions” (Sarah A). (An alternative to practicing ballet to keep awake would be to look out of the window at your sheep. At least that’s what William E claims to do. Personally, I always associated sheep-watching with going to sleep, but hey, whatever floats your boat.) Anna Megill has even developed a helpful scale for determining where it is “safe” to study:
If the book is.....
VERY VERY BORING: Read aloud and walk in circles around the room to keep myself awake.
VERY BORING: Sit on an extremely uncomfortable coffee table, or lie on the table and put the book on the floor
BORING: Sit on one of my mom's comfortable (but upright) Aerochairs.
IN BETWEEN: Sit on my comfy chair in my own room (but not too comfortable)
INTERESTING: If the weather is nice I will read in the hammock out in the backyard or else I will lay on my bed.
VERY INTERESTING: Read on my mom's bed with her back rest and the covers over me
VERY VERY INTERESTING: cuddle down in the corner of my favorite couch with my favorite blanket and enjoy!
Shopping for School Clothes? Head for the PJ section!
About half of those surveyed expressed surprise that the most commonly asked question encountered is, “Can you do school in your PJ’s?”. Sarah T commented, “This one always cracks me up because I never EVER did that; it never even OCCURRED to me to do that!”, while Annie B mused, “I’m amazed how many people ask that one. I wonder if THEY would if they could!” Well, for the sake of Sarah (and others’) enlightenment, about half of those surveyed (the other half; the ones who did NOT express such shock), admitted that they DO INDEED study in their PJ’s:
“One question, why get dressed? Tell me why, and maybe I'll consider it!” –Kate Z
“Oh, yeah! PJ's all the way! Cow print and satin lizard print pants with big t-shirts!” –Shannon B
“PJs are the greatest, especially during winter months (the majority of the school year) when it gets really cold. I like to make a cup of Hot Chocolate and settle in my bed with my pajamas, to read or study.” –Audrey N
“I usually wear my PJ's. Whatever is comfortable really. I find that having to dress as if I was going to "real school" is a drag and I never do it even if I'm "told" to so who cares.” –Audrey N
“Pajamas, or sometimes terribly ugly clothes that I would absolutely die of embarrassment if anyone saw me wearing them!” –Marilee G
For the rest of us, “whatever's at the top of my drawer” (girls?) and “whatever I find on my bedroom floor” (guys?) made up the bulk of the responses, leaving the average homeschooler wearing something like “jeans and a t-shirt that is either ancient or the design is just ugly” (Esther P). A few people admitted to wearing “real” clothes, because, as Meghan C put it, “When I feel good about what I am wearing I am more likely to feel good about my work.” Although a few of the normal-clothes-people admitted to staying in their PJ’s till early afternoon, explaining that “by afternoon, [they’ll] take a shower and change into regular clothes cause it just feels better” (Rachel S), quite a few claimed (myself included) they’d never wear their PJ’s to school. Kelly C explained it, “I don't feel awake until I'm dressed for the day” and Anna M insightfully considered both the question and the PJ’s in her response:
“The question that I get most often is, "Do you get to wear your pajamas all day?" I have often wondered why people care so much about this, but I think it's because every day they have to dress respectably in order to go to school and since this is very trying they are eager to avoid it when they can. I, on-the-other-hand, only have to wear comfortable clothes that I like. I usually tell them that it doesn't actually work to wear your pajamas all day because, if you do, you feel like you have never woken up.”
The Non-Feline Classmates: Siblings (Or “the other pets”)
With a few exceptions, most of the responders said that they really don’t teach their siblings, except for lessons like “how to behave” (Annie B), and that they and their siblings, for the most part, have their separate spheres. The most common image conveyed involved a sibling “popping” in the door and “asking random and unrelated questions”—I was surprised by how many people conveyed this same image in their response! Other notorious antics included “singing or screaming while doing homework” (Sarah R), “bursting into the bedroom at the most inopportune moments” (Mark G), “threatening to put guinea pigs on their big siblings heads” (Kelly C) and “tickling in the middle of Algebra or Geometry” (Audrey N), Sarah C did admit that little siblings are “so cute when they sleep.” Just kidding. One must not confuse “distracting” with “annoying”—Most homeschoolers found their little siblings quite distracting, but not necessarily annoying. April S summed it up well: “My siblings are very special to me. When you think about it, your brothers and sisters are probably the people you will know longer than anyone else in your life. Yes, they can be distracting, but can’t any good friend become a distraction?”
Sung Or Spoken: Good Morning Homeschoolers!!!
Getting up in the morning is a special challenge faced by homeschoolers. You would be surprised what you are able to do when you absolutely have to—at Taylor last summer I could stay up till 3 and get up at 7 for nights in a row! At home, however, with no bus to catch, we must fight to roll out of bed on an average morning. Although these statistics are not calculated or official, and while wake-up times varied from a few 5am waker-uppers to our 11am friends, the most common getting-up time was, relative to those of our public schooled friends, leaning towards the late side, generally around 8-9. And what wakes them up?
“Mother. ARGH! She makes me want to stay in bed.” –Gwen U
“Sometimes the cat wakes me up by ‘cleaning’ my hair” –Dane Hl
“Singing. Yeah you heard right. My family is notorious for singing… No, it’s more like screeching. It’s never a, ‘Hi sweetie, time to get up” in a soft whisper. It’s more like, “TIME TO GET UUUUPPPP, LALALALALA!” in a national anthem pitch” –Kate Z
“Alarm – It’s supposed to but you know how that goes. / Mother – She sends dad up to get me. / Singing – Yeah, my brother in the shower. / Other – Cold water normally works pretty well.” –Mark G
Although homeschoolers require several means at a time to pry them out of their beds (even though they’ll return to it shortly for school), I was surprised to find that most all of the responders go to bed on their own, when they feel like it. Despite this liberty, and despite a few who admit to staying up somewhere between 12 and 2 every night, the most common bed-time seemed to be between 10 and 11.
Some Thoughts on Portfolio and Log-Keeping Skills
Christi B: “AAAAUUUGGGHHH!” That sums up just about everyone’s responses well. Kudos to Christi. No further remarks necessary.
So, Are YOU Normal?
So there you have it: My best attempt to compile the responses which, if printed, would add up to almost 250 pages of anecdotes, stories, and schedules, into an article that would not fill the entire Excelsior. This is your life. Or maybe it’s not. But I hope as you’ve read and laughed a little at these aspects of homeschool life, you’ll take a moment to celebrate—celebrate sleeping in, portfolios, siblings, felines, your bed—celebrate whatever homeschooling is to you . . . but above all, celebrate the fact that you, as a homeschooler, are NOT normal! Repeat this a few times as you celebrate homeschooling: “’Normal is conforming to a standard; typical; of average intelligence or development’ (Webster). As a rule, homeschoolers are NOT normal. Perhaps, however, I am a normal homeschooler because I conform to the standard of abnormality. I am not, however, a normal person!” (Mark G).
Going to School = Going to Bed: Where and How Homeschoolers Study
Although almost every response contained a check by the option, “While Sleeping,” I was not surprised to find that most did claim that in bed, locked in a bedroom, with a pile of cats and dogs on top (“My dog LOVES to listen to me yell at my frustrating math book!” –Karah C), was the favorite position for education. (After all, that’s what *I* do. My classroom system: Mom’s Bed = Physics, English and Math class; My Bed = Economics and Literature reading; etcetera):
“I usually curl up in bed and study/read as little as possible. Just kidding. I do almost all my work in my bed. It keeps me comfortable and quiet and lets me focus.” –Audrey N
“In the early morning (and sometimes late morning if I'm feeling particularly lazy) I like to study snuggled under my bedcovers… although I have to admit that I don't get a whole lot of studying done as for some strange reason my eyes don't want to stay open...” –Rachel S
“I try to avoid the desk and the kitchen table; they make work seem too much like work.” -Mark G
“I usually start on my school work before I even get out of bed in the morning.” –April H
“I alternate between lying on my back and propping the book on my knees, and lying on my side with one elbow supporting me, laying across the bed with my head over the edge and the book on the floor, and laying on my stomach with both elbows propping me up, changing positions whenever I get cramped” -Matthias Hess
“I read with my little angelic teddy bear. I'll have you know that it inspires me that I'm not the only one reading the book, especially if it is boring.” –Sarah T
Homeschoolers are skilled at making almost anywhere into a ”school,” however, and responses included, “On my porch swing” (Amber Ross), “In my car in a parking lot” (Kate Deely), and “Sitting in my chair backwards with my legs hanging over the side, and periodically practicing ballet in between concurring and dissenting Supreme Court opinions” (Sarah A). (An alternative to practicing ballet to keep awake would be to look out of the window at your sheep. At least that’s what William E claims to do. Personally, I always associated sheep-watching with going to sleep, but hey, whatever floats your boat.) Anna Megill has even developed a helpful scale for determining where it is “safe” to study:
If the book is.....
VERY VERY BORING: Read aloud and walk in circles around the room to keep myself awake.
VERY BORING: Sit on an extremely uncomfortable coffee table, or lie on the table and put the book on the floor
BORING: Sit on one of my mom's comfortable (but upright) Aerochairs.
IN BETWEEN: Sit on my comfy chair in my own room (but not too comfortable)
INTERESTING: If the weather is nice I will read in the hammock out in the backyard or else I will lay on my bed.
VERY INTERESTING: Read on my mom's bed with her back rest and the covers over me
VERY VERY INTERESTING: cuddle down in the corner of my favorite couch with my favorite blanket and enjoy!
Shopping for School Clothes? Head for the PJ section!
About half of those surveyed expressed surprise that the most commonly asked question encountered is, “Can you do school in your PJ’s?”. Sarah T commented, “This one always cracks me up because I never EVER did that; it never even OCCURRED to me to do that!”, while Annie B mused, “I’m amazed how many people ask that one. I wonder if THEY would if they could!” Well, for the sake of Sarah (and others’) enlightenment, about half of those surveyed (the other half; the ones who did NOT express such shock), admitted that they DO INDEED study in their PJ’s:
“One question, why get dressed? Tell me why, and maybe I'll consider it!” –Kate Z
“Oh, yeah! PJ's all the way! Cow print and satin lizard print pants with big t-shirts!” –Shannon B
“PJs are the greatest, especially during winter months (the majority of the school year) when it gets really cold. I like to make a cup of Hot Chocolate and settle in my bed with my pajamas, to read or study.” –Audrey N
“I usually wear my PJ's. Whatever is comfortable really. I find that having to dress as if I was going to "real school" is a drag and I never do it even if I'm "told" to so who cares.” –Audrey N
“Pajamas, or sometimes terribly ugly clothes that I would absolutely die of embarrassment if anyone saw me wearing them!” –Marilee G
For the rest of us, “whatever's at the top of my drawer” (girls?) and “whatever I find on my bedroom floor” (guys?) made up the bulk of the responses, leaving the average homeschooler wearing something like “jeans and a t-shirt that is either ancient or the design is just ugly” (Esther P). A few people admitted to wearing “real” clothes, because, as Meghan C put it, “When I feel good about what I am wearing I am more likely to feel good about my work.” Although a few of the normal-clothes-people admitted to staying in their PJ’s till early afternoon, explaining that “by afternoon, [they’ll] take a shower and change into regular clothes cause it just feels better” (Rachel S), quite a few claimed (myself included) they’d never wear their PJ’s to school. Kelly C explained it, “I don't feel awake until I'm dressed for the day” and Anna M insightfully considered both the question and the PJ’s in her response:
“The question that I get most often is, "Do you get to wear your pajamas all day?" I have often wondered why people care so much about this, but I think it's because every day they have to dress respectably in order to go to school and since this is very trying they are eager to avoid it when they can. I, on-the-other-hand, only have to wear comfortable clothes that I like. I usually tell them that it doesn't actually work to wear your pajamas all day because, if you do, you feel like you have never woken up.”
The Non-Feline Classmates: Siblings (Or “the other pets”)
With a few exceptions, most of the responders said that they really don’t teach their siblings, except for lessons like “how to behave” (Annie B), and that they and their siblings, for the most part, have their separate spheres. The most common image conveyed involved a sibling “popping” in the door and “asking random and unrelated questions”—I was surprised by how many people conveyed this same image in their response! Other notorious antics included “singing or screaming while doing homework” (Sarah R), “bursting into the bedroom at the most inopportune moments” (Mark G), “threatening to put guinea pigs on their big siblings heads” (Kelly C) and “tickling in the middle of Algebra or Geometry” (Audrey N), Sarah C did admit that little siblings are “so cute when they sleep.” Just kidding. One must not confuse “distracting” with “annoying”—Most homeschoolers found their little siblings quite distracting, but not necessarily annoying. April S summed it up well: “My siblings are very special to me. When you think about it, your brothers and sisters are probably the people you will know longer than anyone else in your life. Yes, they can be distracting, but can’t any good friend become a distraction?”
Sung Or Spoken: Good Morning Homeschoolers!!!
Getting up in the morning is a special challenge faced by homeschoolers. You would be surprised what you are able to do when you absolutely have to—at Taylor last summer I could stay up till 3 and get up at 7 for nights in a row! At home, however, with no bus to catch, we must fight to roll out of bed on an average morning. Although these statistics are not calculated or official, and while wake-up times varied from a few 5am waker-uppers to our 11am friends, the most common getting-up time was, relative to those of our public schooled friends, leaning towards the late side, generally around 8-9. And what wakes them up?
“Mother. ARGH! She makes me want to stay in bed.” –Gwen U
“Sometimes the cat wakes me up by ‘cleaning’ my hair” –Dane Hl
“Singing. Yeah you heard right. My family is notorious for singing… No, it’s more like screeching. It’s never a, ‘Hi sweetie, time to get up” in a soft whisper. It’s more like, “TIME TO GET UUUUPPPP, LALALALALA!” in a national anthem pitch” –Kate Z
“Alarm – It’s supposed to but you know how that goes. / Mother – She sends dad up to get me. / Singing – Yeah, my brother in the shower. / Other – Cold water normally works pretty well.” –Mark G
Although homeschoolers require several means at a time to pry them out of their beds (even though they’ll return to it shortly for school), I was surprised to find that most all of the responders go to bed on their own, when they feel like it. Despite this liberty, and despite a few who admit to staying up somewhere between 12 and 2 every night, the most common bed-time seemed to be between 10 and 11.
Some Thoughts on Portfolio and Log-Keeping Skills
Christi B: “AAAAUUUGGGHHH!” That sums up just about everyone’s responses well. Kudos to Christi. No further remarks necessary.
So, Are YOU Normal?
So there you have it: My best attempt to compile the responses which, if printed, would add up to almost 250 pages of anecdotes, stories, and schedules, into an article that would not fill the entire Excelsior. This is your life. Or maybe it’s not. But I hope as you’ve read and laughed a little at these aspects of homeschool life, you’ll take a moment to celebrate—celebrate sleeping in, portfolios, siblings, felines, your bed—celebrate whatever homeschooling is to you . . . but above all, celebrate the fact that you, as a homeschooler, are NOT normal! Repeat this a few times as you celebrate homeschooling: “’Normal is conforming to a standard; typical; of average intelligence or development’ (Webster). As a rule, homeschoolers are NOT normal. Perhaps, however, I am a normal homeschooler because I conform to the standard of abnormality. I am not, however, a normal person!” (Mark G).
Banana Palms
Banana Palms - Objective/Subjective Science Essay - By Alexa Weber
Ever since I met my first banana tree in the Dominican Republic, I have been in love with them. What a beautiful tree! Tree that captures the glory of the tropical paradise that is Hispanola, with its broad purple flowers, its waxy palm fronds, and its ubiquitous fruit (the banana, which in Ancient India was considered to be the “forbidden fruit” of the garden of Eden!)
Banana palms evoke an air of adventure, awe and mystery, as if they hold the secret of paradise. One of my first encounters with these pristine trees was while walking along a trail in a lush palm forest, where they grew wild and untamed. I was with teammates and we were busy inviting local Dominicans to our drama, but we always took time to pause and squeal with delight -- “LOOK! BANANAS!”
A year later I went to Haiti, where banana palms also flourish. There, however, the entire country has been stripped of much of its natural vegetation, and the trees grew in fields, like corn. One of these banana fields was right outside of our “home” in Haiti, and we had fun browsing the fields and plucking off the whorls or “suckers” which are the rolled up, infant palm leaves. These twisted whorls made the ideal toy expandable swords, and I amused myself often by trying to unroll these.
When you set foot on a tropical island, the simplest things become EXTREMELY amusing! In addition to the banana crop, a little palm-forest was a highlight of the backyard. One afternoon I left on a little “safari” into the back yard . . . and I didn’t come back! (well, at least not for a while) My teammates were starting to worry when finally I returned with a giant palm branch, probably twice my size. I’d wrestled with breaking off the leaf, which was VERY firmly and fibrously attached. My teammates immortalized this incident in our team “log” of quirky moments as “Alexa picked a fight with a tree . . . the tree almost won.” I returned triumphant, however, and before we knew it I’d fashioned a lovely hula skirt for the missionary’s little daughter with it, as well as one for myself.
The flower of the banana tree is particularly fascinating. One particular banana tree that grew outside of the house produced a flower that was quite a bit larger than our heads. It looked like some form of man-eating plant, and several girls from the trip look at the pictures of it and shudder -- “That plant, like totally freaked me out!” Whether it was a man-eating monster or not, we all enjoyed inspecting it each day, as it shed its giant rubbery petals, that were something like banana peel, and, of course, we posed for many pictures with the monster-flower.
Banana palms conjure up all of the wonderful mission field memories. Oh, that I could have a banana tree in my own backyard! My project director, however, concluded my first mission trip with an unforgettable illustration. Holding up a palm frond during debriefing, in all its glossy green glory, he reminded us that as Christians we must be able to flourish wherever God puts us. While gazing at our banana-palm-pictures evokes sighs and a desire to go back to Hispanola, I am also reminded that God has planted me here and this is where I belong right now. Will I be a tree that can only flourish on the mission field on a tropical island somewhere? Or, will I be a tree that sets its roots down deep and that survives, ever green, whatever seasons of life may come?
Ever since I met my first banana tree in the Dominican Republic, I have been in love with them. What a beautiful tree! Tree that captures the glory of the tropical paradise that is Hispanola, with its broad purple flowers, its waxy palm fronds, and its ubiquitous fruit (the banana, which in Ancient India was considered to be the “forbidden fruit” of the garden of Eden!)
Banana palms evoke an air of adventure, awe and mystery, as if they hold the secret of paradise. One of my first encounters with these pristine trees was while walking along a trail in a lush palm forest, where they grew wild and untamed. I was with teammates and we were busy inviting local Dominicans to our drama, but we always took time to pause and squeal with delight -- “LOOK! BANANAS!”
A year later I went to Haiti, where banana palms also flourish. There, however, the entire country has been stripped of much of its natural vegetation, and the trees grew in fields, like corn. One of these banana fields was right outside of our “home” in Haiti, and we had fun browsing the fields and plucking off the whorls or “suckers” which are the rolled up, infant palm leaves. These twisted whorls made the ideal toy expandable swords, and I amused myself often by trying to unroll these.
When you set foot on a tropical island, the simplest things become EXTREMELY amusing! In addition to the banana crop, a little palm-forest was a highlight of the backyard. One afternoon I left on a little “safari” into the back yard . . . and I didn’t come back! (well, at least not for a while) My teammates were starting to worry when finally I returned with a giant palm branch, probably twice my size. I’d wrestled with breaking off the leaf, which was VERY firmly and fibrously attached. My teammates immortalized this incident in our team “log” of quirky moments as “Alexa picked a fight with a tree . . . the tree almost won.” I returned triumphant, however, and before we knew it I’d fashioned a lovely hula skirt for the missionary’s little daughter with it, as well as one for myself.
The flower of the banana tree is particularly fascinating. One particular banana tree that grew outside of the house produced a flower that was quite a bit larger than our heads. It looked like some form of man-eating plant, and several girls from the trip look at the pictures of it and shudder -- “That plant, like totally freaked me out!” Whether it was a man-eating monster or not, we all enjoyed inspecting it each day, as it shed its giant rubbery petals, that were something like banana peel, and, of course, we posed for many pictures with the monster-flower.
Banana palms conjure up all of the wonderful mission field memories. Oh, that I could have a banana tree in my own backyard! My project director, however, concluded my first mission trip with an unforgettable illustration. Holding up a palm frond during debriefing, in all its glossy green glory, he reminded us that as Christians we must be able to flourish wherever God puts us. While gazing at our banana-palm-pictures evokes sighs and a desire to go back to Hispanola, I am also reminded that God has planted me here and this is where I belong right now. Will I be a tree that can only flourish on the mission field on a tropical island somewhere? Or, will I be a tree that sets its roots down deep and that survives, ever green, whatever seasons of life may come?
Letter to the Author, C.S. Lewis
This "letter to an author" paper was written following a summer honors program at Taylor University that Alexa attended after her junior year of high school.
Alexa Weber
155 Spohn Rd.
Freeport, PA 16229
Dear C.S. Lewis,
When I cracked the cover of Mere Christianity during a course on Worldviews at Taylor University, my heart was heavy with the soul-searchings of previous months. I turned back to my journals and found bitterness and frustration. “God, are you there? Can you be known? Do you know me? Do you care about the simple struggles of mundane life?”
Just weeks before, an email from my friend and role model left me disillusioned. I had seen fire in her eyes; a passion for God that one could almost feel. Thus, when that fire seemed to have died; when she told me solemnly, “if we continue to walk through life thinking that we can know God with an unrealistically positive, super-spiritual view of Christianity and God -- thinking that he will bless us and reveal his will to us -- I think we walk naively. How can we even seek God, demanding a response, when we can’t see him? We can not know God in that way,” her words struck a blow to my morale.
When I first met her three or four years ago, I thought that having a “fire for God” meant having a burning emotion of love in my heart and seeking out some literal voice. I could talk the talk of passion, but when it all came down, I did not and never truly have touched, heard or seen God, at least not in the literal way I’d imagined. I found myself disillusioned by this “experiencing God” mentality. How can I pursue God relentlessly when it is impossible to know Him? What am I expecting in response to my questions? A sign? A letter? A miracle? I can’t feel him moving in me. I left for Taylor University haunted by questions. Are all the emotions, essays full of flowery words, and catchy slogans a facade, part of a deception that says we can experience God? I am generally an emotional person. Close and intimate contacts and relationships appeal to my personality. The ideals of a “Spirit stirring a soul to holiness” were like music to my ears. Even worship songs stress this ideal: “So close, I believe you’re holding me now . . .” and “I want to know you -- to touch you.” Was it an illusion?
As I studied it over the summer, Mere Christianity appealed to my rational side in many ways. God began to answer many of those questions scatted throughout my journal pages. How do I know that what I have devoted my life to is even true? I can not imagine a more solid proof than what you have provided here, as you brought to light the very evidence of God in my own life. There is ultimately fulfillment for every desire, the “apologetic of desire,” as you have called it. If the universe were meaningless, why would man search for meaning? If the world were purely natural, why would we long for beauty, perfection and joy? That we have these desires suggests that either man is a freak, or fulfillment for these desires does exist and that the world is deeper than evolution defines it to be. Yet I still desired to “touch” God.
I closed the cover of Mere Christianity, awed by the confirmation it had brought me. Yet the questions still eluded me. Can we truly know God in an experiential and intimate way? Or are we supposed to live by faith in the unseen -- faith being, as you have said, “the art of holding on to things your reason has once accepted, in spite of your changing moods.” Yet what is faith in reality? Perhaps, in this world, we can never truly know God or see him face to face. Yet perhaps this unfulfilled desire, a groping groaning for something more to this relationship between man and God, will ultimately be fulfilled. Either I am a fool that desires something that does not exist and ought to “give up chasing the rainbow’s end,” or perhaps, as you have said, “Creatures are not born with desires unless satisfaction for those desires exists.” You defined hope as keeping alive these desires for things that “no experience in this world can satisfy.” This is faith: being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see (Hebrews 11:1).
Till we see God face to face,
Alexa Weber
Alexa Weber
155 Spohn Rd.
Freeport, PA 16229
Dear C.S. Lewis,
When I cracked the cover of Mere Christianity during a course on Worldviews at Taylor University, my heart was heavy with the soul-searchings of previous months. I turned back to my journals and found bitterness and frustration. “God, are you there? Can you be known? Do you know me? Do you care about the simple struggles of mundane life?”
Just weeks before, an email from my friend and role model left me disillusioned. I had seen fire in her eyes; a passion for God that one could almost feel. Thus, when that fire seemed to have died; when she told me solemnly, “if we continue to walk through life thinking that we can know God with an unrealistically positive, super-spiritual view of Christianity and God -- thinking that he will bless us and reveal his will to us -- I think we walk naively. How can we even seek God, demanding a response, when we can’t see him? We can not know God in that way,” her words struck a blow to my morale.
When I first met her three or four years ago, I thought that having a “fire for God” meant having a burning emotion of love in my heart and seeking out some literal voice. I could talk the talk of passion, but when it all came down, I did not and never truly have touched, heard or seen God, at least not in the literal way I’d imagined. I found myself disillusioned by this “experiencing God” mentality. How can I pursue God relentlessly when it is impossible to know Him? What am I expecting in response to my questions? A sign? A letter? A miracle? I can’t feel him moving in me. I left for Taylor University haunted by questions. Are all the emotions, essays full of flowery words, and catchy slogans a facade, part of a deception that says we can experience God? I am generally an emotional person. Close and intimate contacts and relationships appeal to my personality. The ideals of a “Spirit stirring a soul to holiness” were like music to my ears. Even worship songs stress this ideal: “So close, I believe you’re holding me now . . .” and “I want to know you -- to touch you.” Was it an illusion?
As I studied it over the summer, Mere Christianity appealed to my rational side in many ways. God began to answer many of those questions scatted throughout my journal pages. How do I know that what I have devoted my life to is even true? I can not imagine a more solid proof than what you have provided here, as you brought to light the very evidence of God in my own life. There is ultimately fulfillment for every desire, the “apologetic of desire,” as you have called it. If the universe were meaningless, why would man search for meaning? If the world were purely natural, why would we long for beauty, perfection and joy? That we have these desires suggests that either man is a freak, or fulfillment for these desires does exist and that the world is deeper than evolution defines it to be. Yet I still desired to “touch” God.
I closed the cover of Mere Christianity, awed by the confirmation it had brought me. Yet the questions still eluded me. Can we truly know God in an experiential and intimate way? Or are we supposed to live by faith in the unseen -- faith being, as you have said, “the art of holding on to things your reason has once accepted, in spite of your changing moods.” Yet what is faith in reality? Perhaps, in this world, we can never truly know God or see him face to face. Yet perhaps this unfulfilled desire, a groping groaning for something more to this relationship between man and God, will ultimately be fulfilled. Either I am a fool that desires something that does not exist and ought to “give up chasing the rainbow’s end,” or perhaps, as you have said, “Creatures are not born with desires unless satisfaction for those desires exists.” You defined hope as keeping alive these desires for things that “no experience in this world can satisfy.” This is faith: being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see (Hebrews 11:1).
Till we see God face to face,
Alexa Weber
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Teaching PA History
(Article written for PA Homeschoolers Newsletter around 2002, I think)
Teaching Pennsylvania State History
I remember my first reaction to the requirement to teach state history was to rank it right alongside fire safety. When my oldest two got to 3d and 4th grade, I bought A Beka’s State Notebook thinking it would have everything I needed about Pennsylvania. Well, as should have been obvious to me, I suppose, it had nothing about Pennsylvania or any other state but had a bunch of blank pages with topics like “State Government” at the top which I ended up tearing out and putting into a 3-ring binder.
I always thought it would be rather boring to have to study Pennsylvania for an entire year or even one semester. And for us that just wouldn’t work out. Instead we took that 3-ring binder (and we’ve done two others since then with different children and have made our own topical sections) and used them over the course of our childrens’ school years. With this, we have truly enjoyed studying Pennsylvania and have lovely keepsakes and interesting, personalized reference books when we’re finished. We call them our PA STATE NOTEBOOKS. Here’s what we do.
We have a 3-ring notebook divided into various sections:
• My town
• My county
• My region
• Geography of Pennsylvania
• Other places I’ve visited
• Pennsylvania – Its Principles
• History in Pennsylvania
• Famous People
• State Government
• Pittsburgh
• Harrisburg
• Philadelpha
• Sports
• What People Do in PA
We add to this book every year and take pictures wherever we travel in PA. I think the categories are fairly self-explanatory so I won’t elaborate on them and you can customize them to suit your interests or opportunities. I will share some of the things we’ve done over the years that have found their way into our State Notebooks.
In first grade, we took ourselves for a walk around Freeport where we live, taking pictures with our local postmistress outside the Post Office, as well as pictures at the soda fountain in the drug store, pictures of 17th century homes and churches, the Fire Dept., library, and one over-looking the entire town. In the library we photocopied old newspapers with articles about the history of Freeport. Then my daughter wrote directions for getting to Freeport and explained some of the reasons she enjoys living here.
Under “My County,” we have a map showing all of the counties in PA with Armstrong Co. colored in and a page of statistical information where my children had to fill in the blank for the capital, population, and square footage of the county. At some point, we’ll be adding some local history and pictures of the courthouse, etc.
For the geography of Pennsylvania, my young children drew the shape of the state and colored a map showing not only PA but the surrounding states. We also made a map using sculpey clay that we molded to show the topography of our state and used colored beads for major cities and blue plastic cord for the major rivers and we sprinkled the two plateaus with green glitter.
Our State Representatives or Senators have always been more than willing to furnish us with all sorts of materials about Pennsylvania (– just call and ask). From these, we had plenty of information and pictures indicating our state flag and all the state symbols. (Do you know the State Beautification and Conservation Plant?) The answer to this question as well as other statistical information are available at www.state.pa.us/kids. We also did a survey of a number of people to find out how many had been born in Pennsylvania to demonstrate that Pennsylvania has a high percentage of people who remain in the state of their birth unlike many other states.
Like many of you, we love to read historical fiction and there are many many books that are set in Pennsylvania. Three of our favorites for elementary age readers are The Cabin Faced West and Brady, both by Jean Fritz, and Benjamin West and His Cat
Grimalkin, by Marguerite Henry. The Cabin Faced West is a frontier story based in Washington County. We’re very fond of it because we identified strongly with the young pioneer girl in the story. When George Washington comes down her lonesome road and congratulates her on her sacrifices in helping to forge a new country, we believed he would have said something similar to us as we pioneer in this ever-evolving world of homeschooling that we pray will strengthen this country. Brady is a story of the underground railroad in PA. The Benjamin West book is really a “must read.” Find out how this young Quaker boy succeeds in getting his family’s blessing to become an artist and ends up in King George II’s court. You’ll also discover why his cat, Grimalkin, always looked as though he had the mange!
Whatever responses our children made to these books also found their place in our PA STATE NOTEBOOKS.
Every local field trip you take can probably find some kind of resting place in your State Notebook. One of our favorite field trips is visiting places where people work. This past year we visited General Press in Allegheny County where they print labels for food products using enormous 6-color presses. Do you remember the pink rabbit on the yellow and green Pillsbury refrigerated cookies last Easter? We saw thousands of them being printed the month before. We have also visited Joy Cone in Hermitage, Tour Ed Mine (Allegheny Co.), Pound’s Turkey Farm (Westmoreland), and Hershey Chocolate factory in recent years.
Under ”Outstanding Pennsylvanians,” our children have included pictures and information they also gathered from various field trips. Albert Gallatin’s home, Friendship Hill and Ft. Necessity near Uniontown, are great places for homeschoolers to visit. At Friendship Hill the park ranger used all of the support group children to put on a mock trial of the Whiskey Rebellion culprits.
Another year, I conducted an 8-week class on Pennsylvania during which time each student had to report on one “outstanding Pennsylvanian.” Copies of some of these reports made it into our PA State Notebook. Besides a written and/or oral report, each student also had to draw and color a paper quilt square of their famous Pennsylvanian. All of these were pasted onto a large white paper “quilt” with P E N N S Y L V A N I A in red and blue through the center. During this time we also made William Penn hats from black posterboard with felt tops.
Two of my children are quite athletic and have filled their State Notebooks with lots of pictures of their own sports teams as well as clippings of the Steelers, Pirates, and Riverhounds of Pittsburgh. Lots of articles about their favorite teams and players and lots of ticket stubs!
Our section on “Harrisburg” is enormous. Everyone should visit the state capitol and especially the Capitol building: it’s one of the most beautiful in the country. While there do learn about Violet Oakley and her artwork in the Supreme Court and see if you can get a list of all the biblical quotations that have found their way to the walls of the capital building as well. Your legislator will be more than willing to help you make arrangements for a tour. There’s an enormous statue of William Penn at the Whitaker Center a couple of blocks away with which your children will enjoy posing.
I hope I’ve given you some inspiration for studying our truly amazing state where many of the foundations of our country and its constitution were forged. We are constantly learning and recording in our PA STATE NOTEBOOKS!
Teaching Pennsylvania State History
I remember my first reaction to the requirement to teach state history was to rank it right alongside fire safety. When my oldest two got to 3d and 4th grade, I bought A Beka’s State Notebook thinking it would have everything I needed about Pennsylvania. Well, as should have been obvious to me, I suppose, it had nothing about Pennsylvania or any other state but had a bunch of blank pages with topics like “State Government” at the top which I ended up tearing out and putting into a 3-ring binder.
I always thought it would be rather boring to have to study Pennsylvania for an entire year or even one semester. And for us that just wouldn’t work out. Instead we took that 3-ring binder (and we’ve done two others since then with different children and have made our own topical sections) and used them over the course of our childrens’ school years. With this, we have truly enjoyed studying Pennsylvania and have lovely keepsakes and interesting, personalized reference books when we’re finished. We call them our PA STATE NOTEBOOKS. Here’s what we do.
We have a 3-ring notebook divided into various sections:
• My town
• My county
• My region
• Geography of Pennsylvania
• Other places I’ve visited
• Pennsylvania – Its Principles
• History in Pennsylvania
• Famous People
• State Government
• Pittsburgh
• Harrisburg
• Philadelpha
• Sports
• What People Do in PA
We add to this book every year and take pictures wherever we travel in PA. I think the categories are fairly self-explanatory so I won’t elaborate on them and you can customize them to suit your interests or opportunities. I will share some of the things we’ve done over the years that have found their way into our State Notebooks.
In first grade, we took ourselves for a walk around Freeport where we live, taking pictures with our local postmistress outside the Post Office, as well as pictures at the soda fountain in the drug store, pictures of 17th century homes and churches, the Fire Dept., library, and one over-looking the entire town. In the library we photocopied old newspapers with articles about the history of Freeport. Then my daughter wrote directions for getting to Freeport and explained some of the reasons she enjoys living here.
Under “My County,” we have a map showing all of the counties in PA with Armstrong Co. colored in and a page of statistical information where my children had to fill in the blank for the capital, population, and square footage of the county. At some point, we’ll be adding some local history and pictures of the courthouse, etc.
For the geography of Pennsylvania, my young children drew the shape of the state and colored a map showing not only PA but the surrounding states. We also made a map using sculpey clay that we molded to show the topography of our state and used colored beads for major cities and blue plastic cord for the major rivers and we sprinkled the two plateaus with green glitter.
Our State Representatives or Senators have always been more than willing to furnish us with all sorts of materials about Pennsylvania (– just call and ask). From these, we had plenty of information and pictures indicating our state flag and all the state symbols. (Do you know the State Beautification and Conservation Plant?) The answer to this question as well as other statistical information are available at www.state.pa.us/kids. We also did a survey of a number of people to find out how many had been born in Pennsylvania to demonstrate that Pennsylvania has a high percentage of people who remain in the state of their birth unlike many other states.
Like many of you, we love to read historical fiction and there are many many books that are set in Pennsylvania. Three of our favorites for elementary age readers are The Cabin Faced West and Brady, both by Jean Fritz, and Benjamin West and His Cat
Grimalkin, by Marguerite Henry. The Cabin Faced West is a frontier story based in Washington County. We’re very fond of it because we identified strongly with the young pioneer girl in the story. When George Washington comes down her lonesome road and congratulates her on her sacrifices in helping to forge a new country, we believed he would have said something similar to us as we pioneer in this ever-evolving world of homeschooling that we pray will strengthen this country. Brady is a story of the underground railroad in PA. The Benjamin West book is really a “must read.” Find out how this young Quaker boy succeeds in getting his family’s blessing to become an artist and ends up in King George II’s court. You’ll also discover why his cat, Grimalkin, always looked as though he had the mange!
Whatever responses our children made to these books also found their place in our PA STATE NOTEBOOKS.
Every local field trip you take can probably find some kind of resting place in your State Notebook. One of our favorite field trips is visiting places where people work. This past year we visited General Press in Allegheny County where they print labels for food products using enormous 6-color presses. Do you remember the pink rabbit on the yellow and green Pillsbury refrigerated cookies last Easter? We saw thousands of them being printed the month before. We have also visited Joy Cone in Hermitage, Tour Ed Mine (Allegheny Co.), Pound’s Turkey Farm (Westmoreland), and Hershey Chocolate factory in recent years.
Under ”Outstanding Pennsylvanians,” our children have included pictures and information they also gathered from various field trips. Albert Gallatin’s home, Friendship Hill and Ft. Necessity near Uniontown, are great places for homeschoolers to visit. At Friendship Hill the park ranger used all of the support group children to put on a mock trial of the Whiskey Rebellion culprits.
Another year, I conducted an 8-week class on Pennsylvania during which time each student had to report on one “outstanding Pennsylvanian.” Copies of some of these reports made it into our PA State Notebook. Besides a written and/or oral report, each student also had to draw and color a paper quilt square of their famous Pennsylvanian. All of these were pasted onto a large white paper “quilt” with P E N N S Y L V A N I A in red and blue through the center. During this time we also made William Penn hats from black posterboard with felt tops.
Two of my children are quite athletic and have filled their State Notebooks with lots of pictures of their own sports teams as well as clippings of the Steelers, Pirates, and Riverhounds of Pittsburgh. Lots of articles about their favorite teams and players and lots of ticket stubs!
Our section on “Harrisburg” is enormous. Everyone should visit the state capitol and especially the Capitol building: it’s one of the most beautiful in the country. While there do learn about Violet Oakley and her artwork in the Supreme Court and see if you can get a list of all the biblical quotations that have found their way to the walls of the capital building as well. Your legislator will be more than willing to help you make arrangements for a tour. There’s an enormous statue of William Penn at the Whitaker Center a couple of blocks away with which your children will enjoy posing.
I hope I’ve given you some inspiration for studying our truly amazing state where many of the foundations of our country and its constitution were forged. We are constantly learning and recording in our PA STATE NOTEBOOKS!
On Growing Up
Written for the last Writing Club in the Spring 2008, which will hopefully not be my last Writing Club! -- Very sad, Samantha (10th grade)
What is the definition of driving? Is it the operation of a vehicle? Or is it more than that? To me, driving was at last merging onto the fast freeway of life where I could finally put my foot on the gas, crank up the music, and enjoy growing up. Driving was turning sixteen.
Seconds had taken hours, hours had taken days, and days had taken years. I, now, counted down the minutes to midnight, February 28th, and my thoughts of fast cars and freedom turned to reflections and remembrances of the past fifteen years. I closed my eyes and memories transported me back through time. I felt the security of my big sis’s hands as my pudgy fingers desperately clung to her and I took my first steps. The guilt of stealing licks of cake batter whenever my mother turned her back overwhelmed me; and then, seemingly endless joy flooded over me as I played house and cooked play food for my stuffed animals. My eyes sparkled as my fingertips softly touched the fragile face of my new American Girl doll and my lips danced as I read Molly Saves the Day. A sense of warmness covered me as I returned from my dream-like childhood to present time. I realized that after the days of hopscotch, pogs, and Sesame Street had passed, my life had pushed the gas pedal as I headed up a long hill.
Turning twelve began the subtle transformation from freeze tag, jump rope, and legoland into a life revolving around responsibilities, expectations, and achievements. High school filled in my care-free days with things such as algebra, chemistry, and SAT prep. My closed eyes tried to close tighter as bright light peaked through my eyelashes and refused to go away. I turned over in my bed, but it didn’t help. Against my will, my eyes opened and were immediately drawn to the clock: 8:30 a.m. was displayed in red and an alarm sounded in my head. I had fallen asleep! I missed it! I missed my life rolling over from boring to beautiful! I was sixteen, but I had missed the clock striking midnight! Disappointed, I rolled out of bed and picked out my clothes so I could go take my permit test.
Hours had passed and I skipped out of the Driver’s Center and caught the keys my mom had tossed to me. Excitement overwhelmed me as I got behind the wheel and started for home. I turned right out of the parking lot and headed for the ramp that led to the fast freeway. At first street was narrow and I felt nervous as I slowly crept up the road. My mom tried to talk to me, but my mouth was locked shut. I was too nervous to speak and all of my attention was focused on the road. Eventually, as we got closer to home, I began to loosen up, but I realized that driving wasn’t as easy as I had thought it would be. I had mastered steering and managing my speed pretty well, but the thought of merging and parallel parking frightened me. It had taken awhile, but after I was parked in our driveway I recognized that all of the time I spent anxiously awaiting driving had honestly been almost as exciting as driving itself. Reality has a painful bite. It took me turning sixteen to finally see that being grown up isn’t half as fun as growing up; but now, my next hilltop experiences will be getting my license, owning my first car, being able to afford gas and insurance…Oh, wait, there I go again!
On Growing Up
What is the definition of driving? Is it the operation of a vehicle? Or is it more than that? To me, driving was at last merging onto the fast freeway of life where I could finally put my foot on the gas, crank up the music, and enjoy growing up. Driving was turning sixteen.
Seconds had taken hours, hours had taken days, and days had taken years. I, now, counted down the minutes to midnight, February 28th, and my thoughts of fast cars and freedom turned to reflections and remembrances of the past fifteen years. I closed my eyes and memories transported me back through time. I felt the security of my big sis’s hands as my pudgy fingers desperately clung to her and I took my first steps. The guilt of stealing licks of cake batter whenever my mother turned her back overwhelmed me; and then, seemingly endless joy flooded over me as I played house and cooked play food for my stuffed animals. My eyes sparkled as my fingertips softly touched the fragile face of my new American Girl doll and my lips danced as I read Molly Saves the Day. A sense of warmness covered me as I returned from my dream-like childhood to present time. I realized that after the days of hopscotch, pogs, and Sesame Street had passed, my life had pushed the gas pedal as I headed up a long hill.
Turning twelve began the subtle transformation from freeze tag, jump rope, and legoland into a life revolving around responsibilities, expectations, and achievements. High school filled in my care-free days with things such as algebra, chemistry, and SAT prep. My closed eyes tried to close tighter as bright light peaked through my eyelashes and refused to go away. I turned over in my bed, but it didn’t help. Against my will, my eyes opened and were immediately drawn to the clock: 8:30 a.m. was displayed in red and an alarm sounded in my head. I had fallen asleep! I missed it! I missed my life rolling over from boring to beautiful! I was sixteen, but I had missed the clock striking midnight! Disappointed, I rolled out of bed and picked out my clothes so I could go take my permit test.
Hours had passed and I skipped out of the Driver’s Center and caught the keys my mom had tossed to me. Excitement overwhelmed me as I got behind the wheel and started for home. I turned right out of the parking lot and headed for the ramp that led to the fast freeway. At first street was narrow and I felt nervous as I slowly crept up the road. My mom tried to talk to me, but my mouth was locked shut. I was too nervous to speak and all of my attention was focused on the road. Eventually, as we got closer to home, I began to loosen up, but I realized that driving wasn’t as easy as I had thought it would be. I had mastered steering and managing my speed pretty well, but the thought of merging and parallel parking frightened me. It had taken awhile, but after I was parked in our driveway I recognized that all of the time I spent anxiously awaiting driving had honestly been almost as exciting as driving itself. Reality has a painful bite. It took me turning sixteen to finally see that being grown up isn’t half as fun as growing up; but now, my next hilltop experiences will be getting my license, owning my first car, being able to afford gas and insurance…Oh, wait, there I go again!
Friday, March 14, 2008
Letters About Literature Contest - PA State Winner
Written in response to the book, Night, by Ellie Wiesel. Sam's letter was awarded the top prize in the 9th through 12th grade level III competition of the Letters About Literature contest co-sponsored in Pennsylvania by the Pennsylvania Center for the Book. She was the sole winner out of 550 contestants and will receive a check for $150 and a $50 Target gift certificate at an awards ceremony at Pennsylvania State College on April 26, 2008. The letter will also go on to competition for the national award among entries from the 50 states and the District of Columbia. Congratulations, Samantha!
Samantha Weber
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Dear Mr. Wiesel,
“When you think that something is the end, it is really only the beginning.” To me, this means that when one chapter ends in your life, good or bad, you can be sure that a new chapter is about to begin. Death has been one dreadful ending to a chapter of my life and the beginning of a new one. Earlier this year my twenty-one year old brother, Zach, died in a tragic hiking accident in the Alps, forty-five minutes from his Air Force base in Aviano, Italy. I couldn’t get past the timing: his tour of duty was up and my parents and I were to meet him at the Pittsburgh airport in three days! In your book Night, you shared your personal struggle to survive during the Holocaust with me. You lost your family, friends, and your faith. This year I lost my brother, my best friend, and, for a time, my faith, but the chapters continued after I closed your book and with your help, turned the page in my own life.
Zach passed away in April, and I had not seen him in eighteen months. My whole family was yearning for his homecoming, but not the one that would happen by way of a flag-draped coffin with military escort. Through reading your tragedy, I found a connection with my own, especially where you had to say goodbye to your mother and sisters. I remember the last time I said goodbye to my brother in early January 2006. After one of the best Christmas and New Year’s holidays our family had ever had, my parents, Zach’s best friend Chris, and I took him to the airport, sending him back to the Air Force in Italy. In the car, the silence was as oppressive as the longing we all had for one more day with each other. We arrived at the airport and walked, reluctantly, with Zach to security. I clung to my brother and then watched, tearfully, as he walked through the gate. Saying goodbye is always a hard thing; but when it’s for the last time, nothing really compares to it. Hugging and waving goodbye to Zach back then will always be cemented into my “hardest-moments” memory, but like every ending chapter, another chapter follows.
If the chapter in my life that began with Zach’s death had a title, I think it would be “Surviving.” It began in darkness as I went through all the necessities accompanying Zach’s death: visitations, the funeral, memorials; and then all his belongings coming home, followed by dark days of looking for him on IM and not being able to call him; not hearing from him on my birthday. I questioned God. If there was a God, how could he have let the ground fall from beneath Zach’s feet? Why did he let him venture onto the ledge alone? Why did my brother, who seemed to love God with all his heart, fall ninety meters into a ravine with no rescue possible? He’d been so safe there in Italy rather than in Iraq; was God just cruel to have him die right before he would be safely home? You also questioned God, and I knew your answer: “Your eyes were opened and you were alone – terribly alone in a world without God.” My fingers fumbled as I turned page after page in Night, waiting, wanting, along with you, for God to intervene, but he didn’t. Instead you were beaten, worked, starved, cold, and moved from camp to camp. You waited for the end, whether it came by rescue or by death. I waited for an answer to my “Why” questions, but they didn’t come either.
As I turned the last page in Night, depravity became a tangible feeling that flowed from your book up my arms and into my heart. Then, I looked out my window at the trees glowing orange and red and yellow; the sun was setting behind them and clouds wisped white across a pink sky. Stunning! The warmth of the picture before me soothed my aching soul and God’s presence, like the sun, lit up the room. The magnificent masterpiece before me was proof of God’s goodness, and I realized that no matter how many ghastly events happen, His goodness will always outweigh the hatred and darkness that sometimes emanates from the soul of mankind.
Although I greatly miss Zach, I know that it is time to turn the page in my life and start to read, no live, the next, exciting chapter. Reading how you answered your questions about God helped me to realize the mistake I was making in my own answers. I want to thank you for sharing your story, and I hope both our stories will have happy endings.
Sincerely yours,
Samantha Weber
Samantha Weber
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Dear Mr. Wiesel,
“When you think that something is the end, it is really only the beginning.” To me, this means that when one chapter ends in your life, good or bad, you can be sure that a new chapter is about to begin. Death has been one dreadful ending to a chapter of my life and the beginning of a new one. Earlier this year my twenty-one year old brother, Zach, died in a tragic hiking accident in the Alps, forty-five minutes from his Air Force base in Aviano, Italy. I couldn’t get past the timing: his tour of duty was up and my parents and I were to meet him at the Pittsburgh airport in three days! In your book Night, you shared your personal struggle to survive during the Holocaust with me. You lost your family, friends, and your faith. This year I lost my brother, my best friend, and, for a time, my faith, but the chapters continued after I closed your book and with your help, turned the page in my own life.
Zach passed away in April, and I had not seen him in eighteen months. My whole family was yearning for his homecoming, but not the one that would happen by way of a flag-draped coffin with military escort. Through reading your tragedy, I found a connection with my own, especially where you had to say goodbye to your mother and sisters. I remember the last time I said goodbye to my brother in early January 2006. After one of the best Christmas and New Year’s holidays our family had ever had, my parents, Zach’s best friend Chris, and I took him to the airport, sending him back to the Air Force in Italy. In the car, the silence was as oppressive as the longing we all had for one more day with each other. We arrived at the airport and walked, reluctantly, with Zach to security. I clung to my brother and then watched, tearfully, as he walked through the gate. Saying goodbye is always a hard thing; but when it’s for the last time, nothing really compares to it. Hugging and waving goodbye to Zach back then will always be cemented into my “hardest-moments” memory, but like every ending chapter, another chapter follows.
If the chapter in my life that began with Zach’s death had a title, I think it would be “Surviving.” It began in darkness as I went through all the necessities accompanying Zach’s death: visitations, the funeral, memorials; and then all his belongings coming home, followed by dark days of looking for him on IM and not being able to call him; not hearing from him on my birthday. I questioned God. If there was a God, how could he have let the ground fall from beneath Zach’s feet? Why did he let him venture onto the ledge alone? Why did my brother, who seemed to love God with all his heart, fall ninety meters into a ravine with no rescue possible? He’d been so safe there in Italy rather than in Iraq; was God just cruel to have him die right before he would be safely home? You also questioned God, and I knew your answer: “Your eyes were opened and you were alone – terribly alone in a world without God.” My fingers fumbled as I turned page after page in Night, waiting, wanting, along with you, for God to intervene, but he didn’t. Instead you were beaten, worked, starved, cold, and moved from camp to camp. You waited for the end, whether it came by rescue or by death. I waited for an answer to my “Why” questions, but they didn’t come either.
As I turned the last page in Night, depravity became a tangible feeling that flowed from your book up my arms and into my heart. Then, I looked out my window at the trees glowing orange and red and yellow; the sun was setting behind them and clouds wisped white across a pink sky. Stunning! The warmth of the picture before me soothed my aching soul and God’s presence, like the sun, lit up the room. The magnificent masterpiece before me was proof of God’s goodness, and I realized that no matter how many ghastly events happen, His goodness will always outweigh the hatred and darkness that sometimes emanates from the soul of mankind.
Although I greatly miss Zach, I know that it is time to turn the page in my life and start to read, no live, the next, exciting chapter. Reading how you answered your questions about God helped me to realize the mistake I was making in my own answers. I want to thank you for sharing your story, and I hope both our stories will have happy endings.
Sincerely yours,
Samantha Weber
Sunday, March 9, 2008
2006 Letters About Literature - Honorable Mention, 8th grade
Dear Mr. Avi:
Throughout my life I have heard people say, “When you think that something is the end, it is really only the beginning.” I began to believe that shortly after I read Crispin, The Cross of Lead. When Crispin’s mother dies and he is declared a wolf’s head, he believes his life is over. He has no family, no house, no food. He has nothing; he is nothing-- or so he thinks. Crispin loses hope and believes the end has come, but, instead, his future has just begun.
Only a few weeks after I finished your book, my brother took me aside, sat me down, and he told me that he was going into the Air Force and would leave soon after his graduation. This was hard on my whole family, but I felt as if he was personally betraying me. All my life he and my older sister had been very close, doing everything together, and I always felt left out. However, my day came when my sister went off to college. My brother and I became extremely close, and, for the first time, I didn’t feel lonely. When my brother decided to go into the Air Force, only two years after my sister had gone to college, I felt that same lonely, resentful feeling. Crispin felt the same way after he was declared a wolf’s head and his mother died. I thought that my losing my brother was an end to all friendships, all happiness, all fun. Soon after my brother left, my family also left the church that we had gone to ever since I was in kindergarten. Now my feeling of resentment and loneliness grew to a whole new level. I was angry at my brother for leaving me and at my parents for making me leave my church family. I was wrong to be angry. The end of my brother’s childhood and the end of my family’s participation in our old church was really only the beginning of a bigger, brighter future.
All of this I came to realize after reading your book, Crispin. Although the transition to the new church was difficult just as Crispin's transition from a slave to a nobleman was, I found a whole new church family that included teenagers, lacking at my old church, who welcomed me into their lives. Crispin also showed me how selfish I really was: my brother went into the Air Force to find his future; it had nothing to do with leaving me behind. With his being permanently gone, I also grew up. No longer depending on other people to entertain me or make me happy, I began finding things to do on my own. And, when it came to my homeschooling, I assumed the responsibility for my own studies and didn't need incessant prodding to get things done.
Mr. Avi, your book unlocked a whole new view of life to me: not to linger on the past but look with hope to the present and the future. Now, when people say, "When you think that something is the end, it is really only the beginning," I think of your book and the window of opportunity it gave me to grow up and move on just as Crispin did. Thank you for provoking me to learn to not linger on the past, but, instead, to look ahead to the future.
Sincerely yours,
Samantha Weber
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And this is the text of the letter she received congratulating her for receiving an honorable mention award:
Dear Samantha:
I am writing today to congratulate you. Your letter to Avi about Crispin: The Cross of Lead has received honorable mention in the Letters About Literature contest co-sponsored in Pennsylvania by the Pennsylvania Center for the Book. Now in its 23 year, Letters About Literature is a national essay contest sponsored by Center for the Book in the Library of Congress and Target Stores. The award winner for Level II (7th -8th grade) is Jenny Uehling, a seventh grader from Glenside, PA.
Samantha, you are one of only two people among nearly 500 contestants who will be receiving this honorable mention letter. That means that you letter was selected by the national screening committee; judged by the Pennsylvania Center for the Book’s screening committee as one of the 10 best letters in the state, and then chosen as the best letter in the state by two of Pennsylvania’s six judges. Your letter received a first, second, or third place vote on all six of the judge’s ballots. Because of your high score on the balloting, the close vote in your age category, but mostly because of your excellent letter, we have decided to award you a special distinction citation. As such, we are asking you if you will allow us to place your letter on our website—the only letter to be so honored beyond the three winners for the three age groups. Furthermore, we will be sending you a certificate acknowledging your work and a check for 50$ to celebrate your accomplishment. You have every reason to be proud, Samantha.
In the next few weeks we will also be sending a press release to your local newspaper if you and a parent are willing to give us permission to do so.
Congratulations to you and your parents. We encourage you to keep writing!
Throughout my life I have heard people say, “When you think that something is the end, it is really only the beginning.” I began to believe that shortly after I read Crispin, The Cross of Lead. When Crispin’s mother dies and he is declared a wolf’s head, he believes his life is over. He has no family, no house, no food. He has nothing; he is nothing-- or so he thinks. Crispin loses hope and believes the end has come, but, instead, his future has just begun.
Only a few weeks after I finished your book, my brother took me aside, sat me down, and he told me that he was going into the Air Force and would leave soon after his graduation. This was hard on my whole family, but I felt as if he was personally betraying me. All my life he and my older sister had been very close, doing everything together, and I always felt left out. However, my day came when my sister went off to college. My brother and I became extremely close, and, for the first time, I didn’t feel lonely. When my brother decided to go into the Air Force, only two years after my sister had gone to college, I felt that same lonely, resentful feeling. Crispin felt the same way after he was declared a wolf’s head and his mother died. I thought that my losing my brother was an end to all friendships, all happiness, all fun. Soon after my brother left, my family also left the church that we had gone to ever since I was in kindergarten. Now my feeling of resentment and loneliness grew to a whole new level. I was angry at my brother for leaving me and at my parents for making me leave my church family. I was wrong to be angry. The end of my brother’s childhood and the end of my family’s participation in our old church was really only the beginning of a bigger, brighter future.
All of this I came to realize after reading your book, Crispin. Although the transition to the new church was difficult just as Crispin's transition from a slave to a nobleman was, I found a whole new church family that included teenagers, lacking at my old church, who welcomed me into their lives. Crispin also showed me how selfish I really was: my brother went into the Air Force to find his future; it had nothing to do with leaving me behind. With his being permanently gone, I also grew up. No longer depending on other people to entertain me or make me happy, I began finding things to do on my own. And, when it came to my homeschooling, I assumed the responsibility for my own studies and didn't need incessant prodding to get things done.
Mr. Avi, your book unlocked a whole new view of life to me: not to linger on the past but look with hope to the present and the future. Now, when people say, "When you think that something is the end, it is really only the beginning," I think of your book and the window of opportunity it gave me to grow up and move on just as Crispin did. Thank you for provoking me to learn to not linger on the past, but, instead, to look ahead to the future.
Sincerely yours,
Samantha Weber
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And this is the text of the letter she received congratulating her for receiving an honorable mention award:
Dear Samantha:
I am writing today to congratulate you. Your letter to Avi about Crispin: The Cross of Lead has received honorable mention in the Letters About Literature contest co-sponsored in Pennsylvania by the Pennsylvania Center for the Book. Now in its 23 year, Letters About Literature is a national essay contest sponsored by Center for the Book in the Library of Congress and Target Stores. The award winner for Level II (7th -8th grade) is Jenny Uehling, a seventh grader from Glenside, PA.
Samantha, you are one of only two people among nearly 500 contestants who will be receiving this honorable mention letter. That means that you letter was selected by the national screening committee; judged by the Pennsylvania Center for the Book’s screening committee as one of the 10 best letters in the state, and then chosen as the best letter in the state by two of Pennsylvania’s six judges. Your letter received a first, second, or third place vote on all six of the judge’s ballots. Because of your high score on the balloting, the close vote in your age category, but mostly because of your excellent letter, we have decided to award you a special distinction citation. As such, we are asking you if you will allow us to place your letter on our website—the only letter to be so honored beyond the three winners for the three age groups. Furthermore, we will be sending you a certificate acknowledging your work and a check for 50$ to celebrate your accomplishment. You have every reason to be proud, Samantha.
In the next few weeks we will also be sending a press release to your local newspaper if you and a parent are willing to give us permission to do so.
Congratulations to you and your parents. We encourage you to keep writing!
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Anna Eichner's Award Winning Ltr to the Author of Peter Pan
Anna Eichner
1695 Saxonburg Blvd.
Tarentum, PA
15084
Dear Mr. Barrie,
When I was a little girl, it seemed that all I wanted to do was grow up. I wanted to go to school and have a lot of homework like my older cousins. When I turned fourteen I believed I had finally gotten my wish. Of course, I realized that fourteen isn’t really a grownup yet, but it seems to be the age at which everyone expects you to act like one. After all, at fourteen you start your first year of high school! But when I reached it, Mr. Barrie, I found myself longing for thirteen and twelve again. The picture that was painted for my future did not match the vision of younger days. I had to do well on my SAT, get accepted into a good college, graduate with honors and then get a job and work until I died. I had reached the height of my younger ambitions, and it wasn’t any fun at all.
But then, while I was volunteering at the library (that’s another thing that I knew I had to do, volunteer hours look good on college résumés) I saw Peter Pan on the shelf. Having nothing better to do, I took it home with me and started reading it. I’m not going to tell you how it made me shriek with laughter and cry buckets of tears, because I’m sure you hear that kind of praise a lot. Instead, I want to share with you two things your book helped me come to grips with. Peter helped me in one of them, Wendy in another. I don’t think one was more important than the other, but I will go in chronological order; for you see, these lessons took a while to sink in.
After my second trip through your book, Peter became my constant companion. I can quite honestly say that, like Wendy, I was completely smitten by him. At a time when I was assailed by deadlines and an insane amount of “grownup” things to accomplish, I felt that Peter was the one safe thing to hang on to. It seemed that, while everyone was bent on pushing and dragging me into the grownup world, Peter had hold of my other arm and stubbornly held me back. I wanted him to! I wanted to stay a child and put off responsibilities for a time. Peter Pan gave me a companion that didn’t worry about the latest fashions or the newest gossip. Peter didn’t mind when I blew off school work, or sang (loudly) in the shower. I had begun to leave “childish” things behind, but now I had found someone to make me linger a bit longer.
In addition to helping me stay young, your book also helped me to grow up. While I read about Wendy’s adventures, I knew in the back of my mind that she would eventually leave the Neverland, go home, and grow up. At first, I didn’t understand why she would even think about leaving! To my mind, she had it made, no grown up worries, no one telling her what to do, and no responsibilities. I was angry with you during the last chapter when you told about how she grew up, and perhaps that’s why I didn’t catch what I think you were trying to say. Childhood is free of worry and responsibility, but if I didn’t follow Wendy and choose to accept the worries and responsibilities, I’d never know the joys that come after them. Wendy’s story helped me realize that if I didn’t accept the grueling hours of study, I’d never feel the thrill of getting an A+ on my test. Peter Pan does have “ecstasies innumerable,” like you said, but he can never experience the relief that comes after a long night of worry, or the joy of being in love with another person (a joy that I am personally looking forward to). When Wendy understood this, I did as well. Again, I found myself wanting to grow up, but not as I did when I was younger. This time I understood most of it wouldn’t be fun, but there would be spots of joy that I would miss out on if I failed to step up to my responsibilities.
So, that’s what Peter and Wendy taught me. Two lessons, one about staying young, the other about growing up. I’m fifteen now, the age that I set in my mind for irrevocable growing up. Peter Pan rests on the top of my bookshelf, surrounded by sprigs of dried rosemary and model fairies. I don’t have much time to read it now, between all of my classes and my newly acquired job, but I still remember Peter and Wendy. They are still as much a part of me as when I spent hours imagining their “unrecorded” adventures. Perhaps Peter would be angry with me for growing up, but that doesn’t matter much anymore. You see, I’m no longer angry with myself.
I know Peter is impossible to reason with, but if you ever see him, try to explain that growing up isn’t as awful as I thought it would be. And, while you’re at it, say hello to him for me.
Sincerely,
Anna Eichner
1695 Saxonburg Blvd.
Tarentum, PA
15084
Dear Mr. Barrie,
When I was a little girl, it seemed that all I wanted to do was grow up. I wanted to go to school and have a lot of homework like my older cousins. When I turned fourteen I believed I had finally gotten my wish. Of course, I realized that fourteen isn’t really a grownup yet, but it seems to be the age at which everyone expects you to act like one. After all, at fourteen you start your first year of high school! But when I reached it, Mr. Barrie, I found myself longing for thirteen and twelve again. The picture that was painted for my future did not match the vision of younger days. I had to do well on my SAT, get accepted into a good college, graduate with honors and then get a job and work until I died. I had reached the height of my younger ambitions, and it wasn’t any fun at all.
But then, while I was volunteering at the library (that’s another thing that I knew I had to do, volunteer hours look good on college résumés) I saw Peter Pan on the shelf. Having nothing better to do, I took it home with me and started reading it. I’m not going to tell you how it made me shriek with laughter and cry buckets of tears, because I’m sure you hear that kind of praise a lot. Instead, I want to share with you two things your book helped me come to grips with. Peter helped me in one of them, Wendy in another. I don’t think one was more important than the other, but I will go in chronological order; for you see, these lessons took a while to sink in.
After my second trip through your book, Peter became my constant companion. I can quite honestly say that, like Wendy, I was completely smitten by him. At a time when I was assailed by deadlines and an insane amount of “grownup” things to accomplish, I felt that Peter was the one safe thing to hang on to. It seemed that, while everyone was bent on pushing and dragging me into the grownup world, Peter had hold of my other arm and stubbornly held me back. I wanted him to! I wanted to stay a child and put off responsibilities for a time. Peter Pan gave me a companion that didn’t worry about the latest fashions or the newest gossip. Peter didn’t mind when I blew off school work, or sang (loudly) in the shower. I had begun to leave “childish” things behind, but now I had found someone to make me linger a bit longer.
In addition to helping me stay young, your book also helped me to grow up. While I read about Wendy’s adventures, I knew in the back of my mind that she would eventually leave the Neverland, go home, and grow up. At first, I didn’t understand why she would even think about leaving! To my mind, she had it made, no grown up worries, no one telling her what to do, and no responsibilities. I was angry with you during the last chapter when you told about how she grew up, and perhaps that’s why I didn’t catch what I think you were trying to say. Childhood is free of worry and responsibility, but if I didn’t follow Wendy and choose to accept the worries and responsibilities, I’d never know the joys that come after them. Wendy’s story helped me realize that if I didn’t accept the grueling hours of study, I’d never feel the thrill of getting an A+ on my test. Peter Pan does have “ecstasies innumerable,” like you said, but he can never experience the relief that comes after a long night of worry, or the joy of being in love with another person (a joy that I am personally looking forward to). When Wendy understood this, I did as well. Again, I found myself wanting to grow up, but not as I did when I was younger. This time I understood most of it wouldn’t be fun, but there would be spots of joy that I would miss out on if I failed to step up to my responsibilities.
So, that’s what Peter and Wendy taught me. Two lessons, one about staying young, the other about growing up. I’m fifteen now, the age that I set in my mind for irrevocable growing up. Peter Pan rests on the top of my bookshelf, surrounded by sprigs of dried rosemary and model fairies. I don’t have much time to read it now, between all of my classes and my newly acquired job, but I still remember Peter and Wendy. They are still as much a part of me as when I spent hours imagining their “unrecorded” adventures. Perhaps Peter would be angry with me for growing up, but that doesn’t matter much anymore. You see, I’m no longer angry with myself.
I know Peter is impossible to reason with, but if you ever see him, try to explain that growing up isn’t as awful as I thought it would be. And, while you’re at it, say hello to him for me.
Sincerely,
Anna Eichner
Saturday, March 1, 2008
Writing Club Assignment re if an animal you knew could talk
Mekia = M-eh-key-a
“Mr. Mekia, tell us a story! Please!”
“Umm, I don’t know, I have to get back to my house soon. I’ve been gone for over 3 hours now.”
“Please, please, please! Mr. Mekia! Just a little one!”
“Well, ok, just a short story. Forty-six years ago in early December, my tale begins. The sun was falling off the edge of the world for the evening as I lumbered up onto the porch and knocked at the door after another 3 hour excursion into the back woods. Patiently, I waited to be let inside. Time ticked by slowly, however, and my sore feet began to ache. I laid down on the porch and my heavy eyelids began to close. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, I heard a sly voice behind me.
“Now what do we have here?” the voice jeered.
“Frantically I searched for the origin of that appalling voice, but there was no soul, that I could see, around. Eyes are known to fail, but noses never do, so I sniffed around the porch hunting for that devilish creature. The voice hissed again. This time, however, it was not cunning enough and my eyes caught the…the…the…cat.”
“A CAT????” the pups piped.
“Yes, a cat.” Mr. Mekia moaned.
“I had seen this c-c-cat around before, but this was the first time it had come up to the house. It was a disgusting animal. Its body was long and scraggily and appeared to have not been fed for a very long period of time save the few mice and small rodents it had eaten from around the yard. Its fur was white with black spots – or maybe it was black with white spots? I couldn’t tell. Nevertheless it was ugly in my eyes as it sat on the pasty white-painted fence and licked a paw and swept it across its face.”
“So, how is the human unit that inhabits this cube with red shutters?” the cat inquired.
“They’re excellent, why do you ask? You don’t plan on living here do you?” I questioned.
“Why else would I have been hanging around this property for the past couple of weeks? Of course I plan on living here!” declared the cat.
“Well you can’t live here. We have a full house. There is no room.” I said
“Well, obviously, someone will have to leave!” replied the cat.
“I don’t think so,” I answered, “because I have no plans on kicking anyone out!”
“We’ll see.” said the cat.
A few days later that cat had moved herself into the garage. I decided to have a heart-to-heart talk with it. Say, cat, I said, “I imagine you think it’s just me who doesn’t want you here, but the truth is that it would be deadly for you to actually take up residence here. “
“And why is that dog?” questioned the cat.
“Four reasons – Duncan, Will, Shelley and Nike. Shelley was born down the road in a barn and brought home by 9 year old Alexa, who’s mother had said “no cats” but whose father, in a very out-of-character mood, had told her she could keep it when she brought it home to show everyone. Shelley had 45 kittens, none of whom are alive today. Of the 45 Duncan and Will lived here the longest. I think they were allowed to stay because they played together in rather entertaining fashions as they mounted surprise attacks at one another and put on extreme acrobatic shows. Their toilet habits however, got them into trouble. They were competitors with one another and not only marked their territory outside but began marking it in the basement as well. Once that was discovered, their end was near. They went off in the family car together and never returned. I always suspected they were drowned in the river; I know the cat carriers they left in came back empty.
Nike’s situation was very sad as well. Nike was barely weaned when he got into trouble. He had actually been sleeping in a bed alongside the youngest child in the house and perhaps if this little girl had been more responsible and fed him once in a while, he wouldn’t have gotten into so much trouble about jumping on the kitchen countertops and helping himself to the family’s dinner every day. I’m not sure what happened to Nike, but the youngest child cried for many days, when he disappeared. I suspect he too went for a long car ride.
I know for a fact that the mother cat, Shelley, was once taken across the river and left there. I was quite pleased to no longer be annoyed by her myself, but was as shocked as the rest of the family when she reappeared one day about 6 months later, only to secure a breeding spot for her kittens inside the drop ceiling in the basement. The whole basement was turned upside down trying to find where she had hidden herself and the surprise of finding six newborn kittens seemed to drive the family elders’ berserk. What happened after that is unspeakable even for me. I’m sure that I could adjust to your presence here. The only rules I would insist on are that you use the litter pan and do not wash your paws in my water dish. I will have little to do with you as I cannot stand the trauma of the awful deaths I associate with you felines. Still want to stay?”
“I don’t believe any of your high tales. See you inside Doggg!”
“So, did she actually move in Mr. Mekia?” the pups wanted to know.
“Unfortunately, yes.” answered Mr. Mekia. “and you know that black and white, or maybe white and black cat, I still can’t tell which it is, but you know that dreadful cat that lives with me now?” asked Mekia.
“Yeah, that dreadful beast that hisses and swats at us when we come near?” the pups moaned.
“That’s her. So, far she is still here, but not for long, I’ll come up with a reason for the Family to dispose of her, just like I did with the others!” divulged Mekia as he turned to go home.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
How Much Help is Too Much?
Certainly, on occasion I wondered if I'd helped too much or if one of the children was being lazy and using me to do his thinking. I believe it was Susan Richman who counseled me about how professional writers benefitted greatly from their editorial staff. How many times have I heard of authors who felt their published pieces seemed to only slightly resemble their original works! The key to me was to make sure that my child really liked any changes or additions I proposed and that he felt ownership of the final product. My goal was for each child to come to recognize what ingredients yielded a piece that they would want someone else to read. I think our success is measured in each of my three children's growth as writers and by the proficiency and place that writing occupies in Alexa's life occupied in Zach's, and is starting to occupy in Samantha's. (I stumbled upon a blogging site that Sam put up just last week where she was writing about current events!)
There are two pieces(a book report on George Washinton Carver and a soliloquy of a WWI soldier that was to reflect an indepth study she'd done of trench warfare) of Samantha's from the upper elementary years for which I obviously provided quite a bit of assistance. She could have written either assignment on her own, but, for example, I wanted her to see what a really good report on George Washington Carver would look like. And, therefore, we spent a great deal of time talking about him and writing down our observations as we went along. I probably asked questioned and typed as she talked and was led to conclusions about his life.
The second example of whre I was very involved was with the soliloquy of the WWI soldier. This was a situation where there was a deadline. She'd done a ton of work and made a spectacular display board all about the realities of trench warefare. Then together we worked out this dialog that someone in the trenches might have engaged in and we put together a costume for her to dress up in and actually give the soliloquy at a homeschool fair. We were trying to do way too much in this particular week. The day before the fair she had it memorized and went over it and over it, but the next day, she had a 6 a.m. soccer game from which we rushed her to the hs fair and she was so nervous and tired that when she got up in front of everyone, all she could do was cry. She laid down beside me during some other presentations and fell asleep. So, this was one instance when I really went too far. You can read both pieces if you go to Elementary Grades.
There are two pieces(a book report on George Washinton Carver and a soliloquy of a WWI soldier that was to reflect an indepth study she'd done of trench warfare) of Samantha's from the upper elementary years for which I obviously provided quite a bit of assistance. She could have written either assignment on her own, but, for example, I wanted her to see what a really good report on George Washington Carver would look like. And, therefore, we spent a great deal of time talking about him and writing down our observations as we went along. I probably asked questioned and typed as she talked and was led to conclusions about his life.
The second example of whre I was very involved was with the soliloquy of the WWI soldier. This was a situation where there was a deadline. She'd done a ton of work and made a spectacular display board all about the realities of trench warefare. Then together we worked out this dialog that someone in the trenches might have engaged in and we put together a costume for her to dress up in and actually give the soliloquy at a homeschool fair. We were trying to do way too much in this particular week. The day before the fair she had it memorized and went over it and over it, but the next day, she had a 6 a.m. soccer game from which we rushed her to the hs fair and she was so nervous and tired that when she got up in front of everyone, all she could do was cry. She laid down beside me during some other presentations and fell asleep. So, this was one instance when I really went too far. You can read both pieces if you go to Elementary Grades.
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