Kaitlin and Ryan juniors in the Secondary Education English program at Oklahoma State University. Originally from Flower Mound, TX and Ann Arbor, MI, Kaitlin developed her love for writing through her experience having excellent middle school and high school English teachers and through her love for journaling. Although still a student when Kaitlin gets her own English classroom she plans to have her own students engage in daily writing such as journaling or working through a 30 day poetry challenge in order to develop their passion and skills in writing. In her free time Kaitlin enjoys reading, running, watching movies, and road tripping with friends and family. Ryan is from Chicago, IL and Tulsa, OK. Ryan found his love of writing through short stories in English class in middle school and his creativity was allowed to flourish, creative writing being his favorite subject to write about. When Ryan has the opportunity to teach his own English classroom he plans to inspire his students’ creativity and have them see writing as something that is fun and not a chore that they have to get through. In his free time Ryan likes to watch movies, exercise, read, play games with friends, and listen to music.
Inspiration
Taking Inspiration from the, “I am from poem” we think that it is important for both teachers and students to be able to reflect on who they are and what experiences have shaped them to be who they are today.
Process
Make a list of significant events, people, and experiences you had at age fifteen and write a letter to yourself about what you wish you knew when you were 15. Try to incorporate at least 4-5 “lessons” or “reflections” within your letter.
Kaitlin’s Poem
Letter to myself (at age 15):
Kaitlin,
At fifteen you will be starting your sophomore year of high school,
You will start your fifteenth year by joining your high school cross country team,
You’re going to feel like puking after your first practice and your coach is going to seem really intense, but you are going to grow to love eight-mile runs in the Texas heat, eating Ice-pops after summer practices, singing songs on the schoolbus at 5 am on your way to meets, and praying with your teammates before each race. Your teammates will become your best friends and your love for running will continue even when practice stops becoming mandatory. When you and your teammates go off to college in different states and you run your last district meet you will miss them terribly.
At fifteen you will learn how to drive.
You’ll barely be able to see the road behind you until you finally figure out you can adjust the mirrors,
You’ll drive on the wrong side of the road a few times,
And you’ll drive slower than a schoolzone on a major road,
But you’ll learn,
The anxiety will start to wear off after a while, especially once you finally get your license and you no longer have your father yelling from the passenger seat.
Driving is scary but you’ve got this.
At fifteen you’ll also go on your first real “date,”
He’ll lock his keys in your car and one of his friends will have to pick you up in his mom’s minivan,
You’ll laugh at the time, but you’ll laugh even harder six years later.
Your time dating will be brief, but this person will become one of your greatest friends that you still have to this day.
At fifteen you’ll have a falling out with one of your best friends,
You will feel guilty because you will know that it was partially your fault,
You will have a hard time apologizing even though you miss your friendship terribly,
It will take you five years to apologize and rekindle your friendship but when you do it’ll be like no time has passed and you’ll be laughing at all of your old childhood memories and favorite TV shows over a grilled cheese at corner bakery.
There’s a lot more that I could probably tell you, things that are going to go wrong and things that are going to go right, but I won’t because I think that all of these experiences are important for you to experience. The hard moments are going to be learning lessons and the good moments are going to be little unexpected surprises. Just remember to not be so hard on yourself, to think a little bit less about what everyone else thinks about you, and to hug your friends and family a little bit tighter every time you see them.
You got this and it all ends up okay.
Love,
Kaitlin
Ryan’s Poem
Letter to myself (at age 15):
Ryan,
At fifteen you will be going into your sophomore year of high school.
You will make the mistake of joining the football team,
You will make some friendships that will last after high school as a result of this and find your best friend whom you will have some great memories that will stay with you for the rest of your life.
You will be accepted in a friend circle even though you have been mostly reclusive in highschool so far.
These friends will try you will make you laugh at the saddest of times, and will make you extremely irritated. Some of the time just learn to roll with it you will have a better time with them if you do.
At fifteen dad will teach you how to drive.
Learn to look behind you and stay straight on the road so you can avoid the yelling that will come from dad about how you need to focus.
You will see that dad is the most understanding with you when it comes to teaching his kids how to drive and you will appreciate him for it.
You will learn though that when you go driving with mom that is a completely different story. She will micromanage every little thing that you do, and it will get on your nerves but you will come to see it is only because she loves you and wants you to be safe on the road. But if you ever have the choice, choose dad.
At fifteen you will think you know everything.
Mom and dad will try and help you with many things and give you advice.
You will shrug it off and think that you know more than them and face the consequences of some of your actions.
Your friends one day will finally tell you off for the smart ass attitude that you have, and you will get angry but do nothing about it because you talk a big game but don’t deliver.
Then after some time you will patch things up and you all will be the best of friends, and you will learn to respect mom and dad more.
At fifteen you will lose your first pet.
You will grow to love the dog that our family adopted.
You will learn that she has some odd quirks to her, but that just makes her more lovable at the end of the day.
Then sadly you all will realize that your time with her is short due to the mistreatment of her previous owner.
You will eventually have to put her down, but realize that it was the right decision to not have her suffer any longer.
There is more that I would like to tell you about this strange year in your life, but how about I just let you experience those times instead of reading about them ruining the surprise for you. You will make connections with people you did not think you were going to get along with. Do some things that will bring you out of your comfort zone and make you better for it. Learn some life lessons that will stay with you when you get out of high school and into college. Just remember at the end of the day that you have people who care about you and want to see you succeed and show them that you can meet those expectations that they set for you.
All the best,
Ryan
Write
Your Turn
Now, scroll to the comment section below to write your own poem. (This is a public space, so you may use only your first name or initials depending on your privacy preferences.) Not ready? That’s okay. Read the poems already posted for more inspiration. Ponder your own throughout the day. Return later. And, if the prompt does not work for you, that is fine. All writing is welcome. Just write something. Also, please be sure to respond to at least three writers. Oh, and a note about drafting: Since we are writing in short bursts, we all understand (and even welcome) the typos and partial poems that remind us we are human and that writing is always becoming. If you’d like to invite other teachers to write with us, tell them to subscribe.
Letter to myself (age 15)
Everything right now will pass.
I know you feel like everything is the end of your world:
Every upset
Every Inconvenience
Every argument
Every dumb bully
Every mean word
Every fight with your soooo irrelevant boyfriend
Just remember, you are only 15
This a small part of your extraordinary life
Here you go again. Another boyfriend!
Slow down, girl! You are only fifteen.
There is no rush. It’s going to be a long time,
I mean a LONG time, before you meet the one.
Go back to your piano lessons. Believe me,
You will wish you had stuck with it. And do not give up singing.
Because people think you cannot carry a tune? If you think you can, who cares?
I know your friends look so pretty with their nice bodies. They get all the attention.
and you…well, you are too tall and too thin. You feel awkward and insecure.
That will change.
You will be happy you are too tall and too thin.
Later, you will dream of being this thin again.
Have more compassion. Your mother has had an exceedingly difficult time.
When she loses control, leave the house.
You won’t get hit and she’ll calm down.
You are not able to understand her now, but eventually,
You will see that she did the best with what she had.
No one can give what they don’t have. She is no exception.
Now let’s talk about your sisters. Yes, those two-
The one who “lectures” you-
All. The. Time.
Listen to her. Your future depends on that.
How about the other one? Be grateful she is so determined.
She doesn’t give up and always manages to find you
When you are out late at night hanging out with your friends
Or ditching school to go dancing.
Right now, you say you will never get married,
You will never have kids. But you will change your mind and
It’ll be an amazing experience.
Being a mother that is. Marriage…not so much.
Your daughter will be your strength and she will grow up to be
an amazing human being. You will get married …a few times actually.
How about that?
Listen to that quiet voice when it speaks to you.
It’s watching out for you. Listen to it, Monica.
Do what it says. It is never wrong. Trust it.
Neglecting it will cause you so much pain.
You have lost more than many, including your dad and your best friend.
It’s painful, I know. You don’t think you’ll be happy again.
But I’m here to tell you that you will. Loss will be your companion for a while.
But you’ll be okay. I’m not going to lie and say it will make you stronger.
It will not. But you learn to live with it.
Being alone is not something to fear. Learn to enjoy it.
It’ll help you. You won’t settle for fear of being alone
You’ll find peace and strength once you learn to be alone.
You will be so much happier.
You know that letter from your father that you found hidden in your mom’s closet?
You wonder why she hid it from you. Let it go. It doesn’t matter.
Be grateful you found it. Whatever made you snoop in your mom’s closet
that day, I’m glad you did.
But a word of caution,
Do not forget it in your pocket.
Even though you will always remember your dad’s words,
You will wish you could hold it again.
Monica, know that all your fears are just that fears.
Do not let them run your life.
Face them and do what you dream of doing.
The only thing holding you back is you.
You are so strong.
Take charge and control your life
Go live the life you want.
You can do it.
I, almost, missed this one; busy day! Here is my last minute attempt.
Reflections of My Fifteen-Year-Old Self
At fifteen you will be leaving junior high behind and face the challenges of a new era. You will have a huge crush on an older boy who makes it clear that he likes you. But you are too shy to let him know how you feel. That you will regret.
At fifteen you will go to your first teenage party with a boy who is just a friend, though he wants to be more than friends. He will later be your first kiss. You will not like it, because he will not be good at it. After all, he was only fifteen, too.
At fifteen you will be a senior Girl Scout going to Camp Minnehaha with you best friends as camp counselors to younger girls. You will meet a handsome, young guy from a school clean cross town! This won’t deter your desire to be his girlfriend; his other girlfriend will. You dodged a bullet, there!
At fifteen you will love every day at school this year; so many new experiences to explore. Excitedly, preparing for the best years of your educational career, junior and senior years, filled your daydreams and your night dreams. Yet, life has a way of throwing curve balls.
At fifteen you find out that at the end of the school year your family will be moving to a different state. You will beg your parents to let you stay and finish school in your hometown. You could live with your grandmother. But, the bitter, sweet of it all is that the answer will be, “NO!” You will hate them for that for quite a while because of that.
At fifteen you will say, “Goodbye”, to family and friends and move to a place you will detest just because it is not HOME. You don’t have to fret; you will get involved with a local chapter of Up-With-People through the school you hate and visit many areas and touch many lives. You will meet a wonderful guy who will make your junior and senior years worthwhile.
At fifteen you will have some trials and regrets, but you will overcome them all, well, at least, most. You will learn that trials come to make you strong and that life is too short for regrets. Enjoy the moments as they come; for you can not go this way, again.
Donna,
I love how at the end of each stanza you talk to yourself like you know what the future holds, because you do! Your piece is filled with great advice and care for your younger self. You speak to your younger self so beautifully. Thank you for sharing!
Dear Allison,
Enjoy those tits.
They won’t perk like that forever.
In fact, you’ll only have the
right one until you’re 45.
Dear Allison,
Diana will never
laugh at your jokes, so
quit trying.
Some day a few really clever
people will laugh a’plenty.
Dear Allison, keep writing
in that journal.
Your need to process life
through words
is the one
part
yourself
that will
year in
year out
make
you
you.
XO,
Yours & Mine
Wow, Allison, so amazing. What a powerful first stanza, and a jolt for your 15 year old self. I even found myself thankful that she didn’t have to read this. Isn’t it amazing and wonderful that we don’t know what tomorrow holds? Diana must have been a powerful influence on you. Your third bit of advice is a treasure and I’m glad you found the importance of processing life with words at such a young age.
Allison,
Love the repetition of “dear Allison” which works as an address but also a term of endearment. And the journal, well, isn’t that the truth. Literally, that is the place we can be.
XO,
Sarah
Allison,
The humor quickly turns sober then gets frank then real and lands on reflective. Processing life through words . . . thank heavens we have that.
I love the “Yours & Mine.” Very clever.
Allison — That first note is the kicker and you voice it with such strength … you’re amazing. And I love that the writing you do is a piece of what your young self can use as a processing vehicle. That writing becomes a part of you are is powerful and affirming. Thanks for sharing this. Susie
The beauty of processing through words is that our words can carry the burden for us. They can do the heavy lifting, when we are not able to do so.
Looking Back at Fifteen
Not sure if I’d call it waking up, or growing up.
Life had provided a little more context than it had at ten.
At the beginning of my fifteenth year my parents sent me to Israel with my cousin, Rachel, and the Baltimore Hebrew College. I was the youngest in the group. Though it did not stop me from doing things. Dancing at disco on the Sea of Galilee to Sly Stone’s “Take me Higher.” The Israeli youth who did not speak English knew all the words to the song. We studied Hebrew in Netanya. Duane Allman died that summer, and I listened to his music through my high school years. My first trip out of the country, and my parents allowed me to go without them.
I returned home to a nation divided by Watergate. Raised by a pair of Democrats I found it incredulous that a nation denied the crimes of the soon to be reelected president’s committee. Accurately named CREEP – the committee for the reelection of the president committed the crime. When I returned to school in the fall I wrote an article for our school newspaper in support of McGovern.
In Munich Israeli Olympic wrestlers and other athletes taken hostage by Black September were killed. And the belief that the Olympics represented a moment when nations could come together for a common goal was shattered. Years later I found it hard to accept Arafat as a negotiator though I realize all parties have blood on their hands.
Among all these serious moments I lived a traditional high school life. I started dating the guy I would date through high school. This far removed it’s hard to say I’d fallen ‘in love.’ Though I’m sure the word was shared. The relationship was healthy for both on us and lasted til I outgrew it.
I learned to drive. My father the calm and patient one drove with me most evenings. We drove Jonathan to 7-11. He was collecting cups with basketball players. An extension of baseball cards. Bubble gum was replaced by a coke slurpee.
Tonight a little bit of me looks back at the fifteen year old, and doesn’t think she’s that much different than the one typing these words on the screen.
Oh wow. This: “Tonight a little bit of me looks back at the fifteen-year-old, and doesn’t think she’s that much different than the one typing these words on the screen.”
Isn’t it amazing how we can delve back into our various identities and still see ourselves?
Your poem was for me mostly a window with moments of mirror. I LOVED your opening lines. “Life had provided a little more context than it had at ten.” It’s CONTEXT, isn’t it?
THANK you. Beautiful.
Jamie, this is such an interesting read. Wow. You tell these big ideas and experiences with so much detail and memory. I lived through them, but more with the context of the ten or twelve year old. Oblivious. I like how you go from the historical to a switch when you mention your traditional high school life. I like the last line too, where you contemplate with this poem your fifteen-year-old self and appreciate her and her connection to you. Well done, Jamie!
Jamie,
Thank you for allowing us to Bear witness to these stanzas of your life–the places, the people. “Blood on their hands” stood out to me, made me wonder what 15 year olds today will one day say about who has blood on their hands.
Sorry to be grim…and love the coke slurpee!
Sarah
15
At fifteen you will not understand your parents,
You will not understand school,
And you will not understand life.
That’s okay though.
At fifteen you will realize that your sports career will end with highschool
Hard to imagine a six-foot unathletic kid won’t make the NBA
You will struggle to try and find an identity outside sports.
That’s okay you are not alone.
At fifteen you will not have found your passion for English yet
You will simply think it is another class you have to take.
You will not realize that your future career will revolve around this subject.
When you get older you will wish that you had taken those “boring essays” more seriously.
That’s okay though, it allowed you to fall in love at an age where you can truly appreciate it
At fifteen you will think you met the girl you are going to marry,
You were wrong and that’s okay.
You will look back and remember the good times you had,
But laugh at how you viewed relationships.
That’s okay though, that’s part of adolescence.
At fifteen you will think you have it all figured out,
But at fifteen you know almost nothing.
Enjoy highschool, enjoy your friends, and enjoy school.
Because soon you’ll find out what bills and taxes are.
PS: Your secret dream of wanting to be an actor hasn’t faded yet
I love the repetition of “that’s okay though” in each of your stanzas. Everything seems like a bigger deal than it really is when you’re 15 – so the comforting assurance is perfect. “That’s okay though, that’s part of adolescence.” I also love the P.S. – go for it!! 🙂
Kole — This has a wonderful tone of “hey, that’s okay” — such an affirming stance… supportive and nurturing. No wonderful a teacher. I especially enjoyed your “PS… an actor” — I love that! Hey, do it, dude! Thank you, Susie
Kole.
I love how you constantly reassure your younger self that they are okay and that whatever they are going will they will get out of. I also like how you talk about the passion you have now and how you didn’t use to feel the same way when you were 15, Thank you for sharing.
Well, it’s been a crazy, chaotic, jam-packed day, and I couldn’t get into the mindspace where I needed to be. So rather than fight it or NOT do write the poem, I addressed the elephant in the room. I sure hope to revisit this prompt when my mind is clearer.
YOU
Dear 15-year-old self,
There is a 54-year-old version
of you sitting in a chair
in Jasper, Indiana,
trying to talk to you and reflect and offer advice.
But, she can’t clear her head from the NOW.
She’s struggling to set aside the work of today,
the celebrations and setbacks of April 22.
And, to be honest, she can’t allow herself to think about
what she maybe wishes she hadn’t done
or had done, who she was or who she wasn’t.
She does want you to know that
you morphed and reinvented and persevered
and became a person who strives every day
to survive
and to be the best version of you.
The things you did . . . the seeds of interest
you planted, the activities you participated in,
the friendships you formed and strengthened,
the loves you felt and failed . . .
all intermingled and mashed and mixed to make her.
And, all things considered, she’s happy with her life
and who she is.
She has regrets. Regrets so huge she carries them
on her back like a boulder
And even though she learned and knows that she
has a Savior who died for her sins, who offers
forgiveness,
she has trouble accepting it.
Maybe that started with you.
Or the five-year-old you.
Of the ten-year-old you.
The thing is . . .
don’t take yourself too seriously because
all the YOUs will all survive
all the YOUs will help build her into
the woman and mom and teacher and sister
and daughter and friend that she is.
She loves you.
You should love you, too.
~Susan Ahlbrand
22 April 2020
Dear Susan,
I am so glad you wrote THIS poem. Isn’t it funny how in your “inability” to write tonight, you in fact created a moving–striking!–poem that connects the craziness of now to the blur of our teen years.
I love this line: “to be the best version of you.” These are the exact words I ask of myself, my children, my students. We are all a “package deal”; take what you are, love it, work with it.
xo,
Allison
Yes, as Allison said, this is just the poem for you to write today. It is so powerful and so many people can relate to it on so many of our adult days. The alliteration even–“the loves you felt and failed . . .
all intermingled and mashed and mixed to make her.” So beautiful.
“You should love her too.” That is some stellar advice for anyone. A great ending line.
Susie, You Have a Phone Call
RING! RING! RING!
Hello.
“Hello, Susie?”
Yes.
“This is the looooonnnng distance operator.”
What?! Who is this?
“I said, ‘This is the loooooonnnnng distance operator,’
and I’ve got a call on the line says
her name is Wanda Letyano,
and she wants to reverse the charges.”
What!? What is this?
“I said, ‘This is the looooonnnng distance operator’ —
will you accept the charges?”
Uh, well… I guess so.
“Okay, I’m putting your caller through now.”
Susie, though you don’t know me,
I do know you,
and I thought I oughta share a thing or two.
You’re laying some groundwork, kid,
and in a certain way, you’ll be glad you did
down the road there lies a payload.
My caution to you
on this 15th birthday:
times they are a-changin’ —
it’s music and poetry will see you through.
While you might think it’s all about feeling the beat,
reading the book, following the rule,
bit by bit you’ll see it all blend, realize —
the rhythm, the words, the beat, a voice
making a difference, making a choice
to see the world through bigger eyes.
I, uh, okay.
You love the Fab Four,
and you opened the door
to Ochs and Baez – in all that she says
No, no, no, it ain’t me, babe
will serve you quite well.
Prine yields a wisdom, good stories to tell.
BB will rock you, baby, if only he could,
and James Brown is certain to make you feel good.
But, Susie, brace yourself,
hold on tight,
the soul roots of Dr. King and JFK
in their words, a promise
that will shape you
and shake you,
awake you.
Take music from every album sleeve,
bluegrass to blues,
mountains to bayous,
and let it help you find the words
how sweet it is
to make a difference, voice what’s true.
It’s time — have to go. This is just Wanda Letyano.
“This is your loooonnnng distance operator;
your three minutes are up.”
by Susie Morice©
Wanda Letyano! I’m howling! Love the throwback to operators and reverse charges and album sleeves! I also appreciated the Prine shoutout. :'(
So creative! I love the phone call spin you took with this prompt. And your rhymes give the poem such a great rhythm. It made me think: if I only had 3 minutes to share advice with my younger self, what would I squeeze into those minutes? How could I convey all I wanted to say in such a limited time constraint? You did it beautifully!!
Susie,
You absolutely crack me up! Wanda Letyano!
You are such a skilled writer!
At fifteen, you think you know it all.
I’ve got news for you honey,
There’s a great big, wide world out there
That you can’t even imagine.
The food, the culture, and the natural beauty are going to blow you away.
Take some time now to get outside of your world
So you’ll know how to appreciate it all later.
At fifteen, you can’t wait to get away from your family.
You have no way of knowing how vital they will be in forming the person you are.
Your passion, compassion, and verve will be fed by family.
Your dearest teachers don’t always have college degrees,
But they will teach you how to be true to yourself.
Your family will accept, appreciate, honor, and love you for you.
You won’t be able to get by without them.
Cherish them.
At fifteen, you think you know what love is.
Honestly, I’m trying to hold back my laughter and judgement!
Let’s just say you don’t.
You don’t know what it’s like to be comforted when you need it the most,
Or to be challenged when you think you’ve got it all going on,
Or to be saved when your life hangs in the balance.
Be open to love even when you might think you don’t need it.
You will.
At fifteen, you’ll do you
Because you have to.
But try to listen more!
Mo – You have captured the voice of reason here that I want sitting on my shoulder. If only… Right? My favorite line is “Your dearest teachers don’t always have degrees.” That has been so true… and delightfully, I also have had some really wonderful teacher-teachers. I chuckled when you held “back my laughter and judgement”… so true of a scenario with the wisdom on hindsight or prescient wisdom. You and I both shared the desire for being “open” — I offered up “bigger eyes.” You are a good mentor here! Thanks, Susie
Dear Mo,
I love the voice of older you and I love the younger you I get to meet through this poem.
“Your dearest teachers don’t always have college degrees” is an important line.
It’s so hard to “hold back judgement” as we look at those 15-year-old selves! I appreciated you putting that into words.
I loved:
At 15 you’ll do you
Because you have to.
<3
Letter to Myself (at age 15)
Donnetta,
At fifteen, you will be starting your sophomore year in high school. You won’t play any sports, because you are pretty lazy when it comes to physical activity; plus, your interest have already turned to boys. When you begin your year at Patterson Career Center, it will seem so big. It is, but you will quickly learn the ropes and actually make it to your classes on time. You will figure out for yourself that there is not swimming pool on the 4th floor. P.E. will become one of your favorite classes, because Coach Wallace is pretty amazing. You even learn to do the hustle.
At fifteen, Regina will be your best friend. Y’all been best friends since 6th grade. A few ;years later you two will fall out and stop talking. You are completely at fault, even though you tried to convince yourself your actions where in her best interest (you were trying to protect her). Nah…it was pure gossip. You never talked directly to her. But, year later you two will reunite. It won’t be the same though.
At fifteen, you will already have a boyfriend. He is actually a really good guy, but he will break up with you for another girl. She allegedly threatens to beat you up if he doesn’t break up with you for her. He breaks your heart, but possibly saves your life. She is a beast, and you can’t fight.
At fifteen you will make some very grown up decisions. Thank goodness they don’t ruin your life. You hangout with a woman who is 7 years older than you. I’m so surprised your mama allowed that. I guess your mama thought she’d take good care of you. Later, mama will learn the truth.
I could tell you so much more, but you can experience it for yourself. The hurts don’t last forever, and you learn to forgive and forget. All the stuff you will go through will shape who you are and who you are meant to be. Just remember you can’t please everyone and it okay to advocate for yourself. You are beautiful. Learn to love yourself. You are strong and resilient. It will all turn out okay.
Love,
Donnetta
Donetta, what really resonates with me is the part about falling out with your best friend. I don’t know how long ago this would have happened, but isn’t it amazing how foolish we can be at such a young age? I still carry around guilt for some of the stupid things I did as a child. You make me think I’m not alone. I love the positive note you end on. There are reasons why we are who we are.
Donnetta, I have enjoyed so many of your poems this month. You and I are both “evening poets”! But this one tonight helps me know you in a deep and personal way. I loved this line: “She is a beast, and you can’t fight.”
Your final paragraph is a battle cry! Love yourself! You are strong! You are beautiful!
Indeed.
Well, I had no intentions on writing a poem this long, but I had so much fun going back into my 15-year old self’s life!
Thanks Kaitlin and Ryan!
?
You’ve Had the Power in Your Pen All Along
By Stacey L. Joy
Life is a balancing act
You walk the tight wire
Eyes closed and hands tied
Without leaning left or right
You focus until the end, unscathed.
Your joy and laughter radiate like the sun
Your sadness and anger destroy the melody of music
Your drive to succeed fuels your spirit
But your craving for risks
Pushes you into battle unarmed, undefeated.
When you were a little girl
You went against the grain
It almost drove your mother insane
So now that you’re 15
And you want to be grown
Go ahead and follow the proverbial crowd
Nothing will stop you anyway
Sit at the back of the bus
With the older kids who smoke
And gamble away their gold chains and snack money
Because they bet that the ball
Was under the third cup
The one they kept their eyes on, unseeing.
Your role models are older than you
You can’t help but be envious
Your chest is super flat
Flat like paper
And when you stuff your bra with tissue
You’re the only one who thinks no one knows
You are a late bloomer
Without the slightest of seeds ready to bud, unwatered.
Your big sister, Pam, is gone to college
She’s a superstar in your mom’s eyes
And you believe she is also the FAVORITE child
You openly detest her for that
And that’s why you try so hard to be better
You want to be her best friend
She graciously accepts you as tolerable at 15
Probably because she’s far away from you, unbothered.
Wear your Maybelline midnight blue mascara
Your laceup black flare-leg pants
And imagine you are Olivia Newton John (Sandy)
Grooving with John Travolta (Danny Zuko) in Grease
Memorize every song of Saturday Night Fever
In the standing-room only theater of your bedroom
Practice doing the Hustle, step, turn, pivot
Fantasize that it’s just you and John, uninhibited.
Pursue roles in drama class with Ms. Francis
Great performance in Dark of The Moon and Cabaret
With ritzy privileged kids who had theater training
You don’t know it now but Forest Whitaker will win an Academy Award
You may want to pay attention to his talent and craft
Penelope Ann Miller starts her period right before curtain call
You’ll always remember her
Believe it or not, she will be a film star too
And never remember you
Time to put some pressure on yourself, level up, kiddo
You won’t become someone if you’re average, unremembered.
One day while sunbathing by the pool
All slathered up in Johnson’s Baby Oil
Worshipping a sun that burns the youth out of your skin
You start journaling, writing scripts, short stories and poems
Falling into the universe of your mind’s eye
You see new relationships and infinite possibilities
Flowing freely you write yourself into your future
You find the power behind your pen, unleashed.
When I saw your comment about having fun looking back at your fifteen-year-old self, I thought , “I have to read this!” Personally, I don’t really relish those days! I just love the line, “In the standing-room only theater of your bedroom.” I can picture you (me?) singing away with a hairbrush in your hand. Your poem reads like a love letter to yourself. It’s great.
What’s funny is I intended to share the dark side too, but my heart stayed in the fun memories. Lord knows I sure could’ve told my scary story too. Happy you enjoyed it.
Stacey — This was such fun to read. I love watching you at 15, so full of yo’ fine self! I love that! The competition with the older sister… so honest. I can see you practicing the Hustle — too funny… I was opposite you practicing as well. 🙂 To see that dynamic girl, that risk taker, “start journaling, writing…” What a star-is-born kind of reality. I love that you focused on writing …”power behind your pen” … and teaching! I appreciate your opening your life for us… wonderful. Susie
Ann,
You don’t know all that you don’t know.
But don’t worry, I promise you that you’ll grow.
You’ll fly from the nest; well you’re pushed just a tad.
You’ll spend months just trying to get with the flow.
You’ll stain all your t-shirts with food, paint, and tears.
You’ll know when it’s time to start switching gears.
So, buckle down hard and block out the world,
Because you know that teaching is worth trying years.
You’ll make some new friends and you’ll all have a blast.
You’ll learn that sometimes you lose friends just as fast.
Then you’ll dust yourself off and stand yourself up,
And live in the present, recalling the past.
For now though, don’t think about what is to come.
Just enjoy the high school you’ll graduate from.
Hold yourself high, never cry over boys,
And when life decides to give lemons, take some.
Ann, I’m so happy you rhymed tonight (aaba)! I was tempted to, but took the lazy way out. I love how playing with rhyme forces me to think-re-think-re-think what I’m trying to say. As we push thoughts into rhyme, we have to measure meaning in iotas.
Your final stanza made me want to stand up and cheer:
When life gives you lemons, TAKE SOME!
What a great poem!
Alex (or “Tuppy,” as you like to pretend to be called by some juniors at lunch, who really did write this on a piece of paper and pass it to you and say, “We just named you Tuppy”, and yes, a couple of them keep calling you this until years after they graduate when you will work together at a crappy lakeside hotel restaurant, and you will use this as an email address, although because there is already a tuppy@hotmail.com, you will have to use tuppy2000, which is a year that seems like it will never feel dated or old, but is now, in fact, 20 years ago…where was I going with this? Oh yeah, it was never a real “nickname”…but I guess that doesn’t “matter”),
15 will feel like a lonely pit of hopeless despair until June, when Dave who plays bassoon and saxophone will invite you to do a walk against cancer and you will have a wonderful day and make several really good lifelong friends.
Actually, they don’t stay your friends, but you probably don’t want to hear that.
This year, you will see your dad scream and swear at the TV when Brett Hull’s infamous No Goal ends the Buffalo Sabers’ Stanley Cup dream (on your mom’s 47th birthday!), when Rob Johnson throws his shoe to the sideline just before throwing the game winning pass, that was then nullified by the even more infamous Homerun Throwback, or Music City Miracle, that leads to a 17 year playoff drought that suffocates all of Western New York, except for the traitors who root for the Giants, Jets, or (god forbid) the Patriots.
This year, you and Tim will start messing around with his dad’s 4-track tape recorder and it will literally change your life.
15 will feel suffocating, but you will meet some real friends who you will play Green Day and MXPX covers with, while wearing dresses, in front of everybody, and you will know what rock and roll really means.
You should probably know that next year is better. This year is just a placeholder. But honestly, you will never have a better teacher than your math, social studies, and English teachers this year. They will endlessly inspire you.
But your first impression of your bio teacher is right, she suuuuuuuuucks.
(To be fair, she’s not so bad, you’re just a bad science student)
Alex, or Tuppy, or whatever, it’s been 21 years since 15. It’s been a real chore thinking back to that bottomless pit of a year. I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m gonna let you handle this now.
I have other things to do.
– Alex
My favorite part, bested only by your last line!:
15 will feel like a lonely pit of hopeless despair until June, when Dave who plays bassoon and saxophone will invite you to do a walk against cancer and you will have a wonderful day and make several really good lifelong friends.
Actually, they don’t stay your friends, but you probably don’t want to hear that.
Love the tone, the realism, and the sign-off!
Oh wowohwowohwow. Alex, this is raw and real. You are still so young (36?) but you write with the perspective of a sage. I loved this: “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m gonna let you handle this now.”
Great stuff here.
I love the descriptions “lonely pit of hopeless despair” and “15 will feel suffocating”, “bottomless pit of a year” – sounds just like a teenager’s sense of hyperbole. I also love the drawn out “she suuuuuuuuucks” – only to reveal the sad truth that “you’re just a bad science student” – this was a lot of fun to read!
Dear Laura–circa 2003,
Let me start off by saying that I know you will not heed the advice below,
but you’ll still read to the end because you’re starving for understanding.
You’re going to laugh when you’re uncomfortable. A lot.
You will learn to control it. For the most part.
But don’t worry.
He ends up being an extra in your life.
You still don’t know what Lyme disease is…
Plus, that third date was mediocre at best.
You don’t know everything.
Yeah. Right? It’s hard to believe.
In fact, you can’t–believe it.
I can feel your unflinching stare as I write.
One day, you’ll figure it out.
No, yeah, of course I “just don’t understand.”
The adults in your life actually believe they are doing what is best.
Again, hard to believe, I know.
But they’re only human, like you.
Some will be anti-role models:
They’ll show you who not to be.
Very few will be true role models:
Remember them. Stay in touch.
There’s always more to the story.
You’ll survive the adolescent teasing.
You cannot hide your whiteness,
nor do you need to apologize for it.
There’s so much more to it than you know.
And, this definitely won’t be taught in school…
It doesn’t make it right, but it doesn’t make them wrong either.
As for regrets, you have too many.
It’s not healthy.
Mistakes, failures, bad choices.
You need them to become the person who you will become.
It’s going to be painful, awkward, and devastating.
You need that to become the person who you will become.
You will eventually discover the path of least resistance: be yourself.
You won’t really “get it” until you’re studying
to become a teacher of students who are your age.
(I know right? The last thing you want
to be when you grow up is a teacher
like your mom!).
With all of the love that you totally deserve,
Laura
Laura,
That dating line brought back some scary memories: “that third date was mediocre at best.” Who hasn’t been there. Ugh! So much to unpack and think about in
“You cannot hide your whiteness,
nor do you need to apologize for it.
There’s so much more to it than you know.
And, this definitely won’t be taught in school…
It doesn’t make it right, but it doesn’t make them wrong either.“
I’ve thought about this so often over the years. Still trying to figure it all out. Thank you.
—Glenda
There’s so much to relate to here…I love the quotation marks around “just don’t understand.” The overwhelming amount of regrets we stack up, instead of making the mistakes that make us come out better….and growing up to be a teacher like your mom, when it’s the opposite of what you thought you would want! Great stuff!
An amazing collection of wisdom here! “You need them to become the person you will become”—the best!
As for regrets, you have too many.
It’s not healthy.
Mistakes, failures, bad choices.
You need them to become the person who you will become.
It’s going to be painful, awkward, and devastating.
You need that to become the person who you will become.
You will eventually discover the path of least resistance: be yourself.
Laura,
I love your entire poem and the stanza above touched my soul. I especially like lines 4, 6, and 7. Two good reminders for me to remember “no regrets.”
Yes. As I was writing, I definitely had to temper my “I’m wise so listen to me” self because I’m still reminding myself (daily I might add) of these “words of wisdom.” Thank you for your kind words!
Let me share some of my favorite lines in your beautiful poem:
“I know you will not heed the advice below,
but you’ll still read to the end because you’re starving for understanding.”
“Some will be anti-role models:
They’ll show you who not to be.” (YES!)
“You need them to become the person who you will become.”
Kaitlin and Ryan, thanks for this fun prompt today. It’s such a good way to get to know writers. I spent most of my day struggling with what I remembered from age 15 and finally gave up (ha!).
Who knew?
You’d be passing notes in class,
covert texts thumb-typed and sent,
in eye-rolled language and LOL’s
slipped beneath noses during mandatory meetings
thirty-seven years after adolescence.
15 year old you would never do that.
Who could have guessed?
You’d pull the Hunter/Gatherer
from deep within your bone marrow, thews and sinews,
stalking elusive meat through the Covid jungle
and gathering fruits and grains in the trunk of your white Rogue,
stashing them for later use
after a garage quarantine of their own
in the year 2020.
15 year old you would dismiss the thought.
Who would imagine?
You’d witness every atom and fiber
in your life turned turvy-topsy,
irises widening and brain firing
at the reality built from
the sci-fi shows and dystopian novels you’ve loved
since 1984.
15 year old you would gape in disbelief.
Who could have known?
Jennifer,
I like that you were able to incorporate some real poetic effects within the letter writing prompt, especially In the hunter/gatherer metaphor of the 2nd stanza. And the repetitive “Who” statements connects the piece, which fluctuates between silly (who isn’t texting in meetings?) and scary (1984). Well done!
Jennifer — Your poem sure did justice to my own feelings about how unbelievable all this is. I loved the words that brought this home: “dystopian” and “1984” and “gape” and “irises widening” and “Covid jungle.” The quarantining of groceries in the garage — oh man, this is so surreal that I think it was genius to chat with your 15 year old self about how totally off all this is. Whew. Good poem. Thank you, Susie
Shaun,
The fact that you are reading this will probably destroy the fabric of spacetime,
but you will learn about that next year in physics with Mr. Duncan.
Until then, enjoy your first year at a new school! Everyone you meet will be new!
Don’t worry about what everyone is wearing. Erasmus said, “Clothes make the man!”
He’s wrong. The people who judge you based on material wealth are not worth your time.
Which leads me to some very important advice!
Read more books!
You are too lazy and put your schoolwork off until the last minute. Stop it now!
If you don’t, it will bite you in the butt down the road. Besides, there are A LOT of books you will want to read, so GET STARTED!
Spend more time with Micah. He only has a few years left, and you need to take him on more walks. He’s worth it.
Next year, make sure you take that hospital job. It will be physically demanding,
but you will have fun and learn the basics of food service and hospitality.
That will be your ticket to financial stability, so don’t blow it!
Finally, record the stories that Great Grandma Ingalls tells you.
You’ll wish you had, because you are going to meet some very special people who need to hear her stories.
I know you’re not big into economics, but buy Apple shares instead of all those LPs.
You’ll thank me for it.
Peace!
Shaun — the clothes, the too lazy, the knowing of impermanence (Micah) is so beautifully and tenderly expressed. I love the recording of stories idea — I ask students to interview a family member every year to create a podcast and archive of stories beyond the walls of school. The last few lines made me smile and also gesture at who you are Shaun, who I am getting to know from across the country via poeming. “buy Apple shares”: check.
Sarah
I love how you started this with the fabric of space time warning. I also enjoy some of the specifics (mr. Duncan, Micah, great grandma Ingalls, etc.) and I can relate very much to wishing my young self had spent more time reading!
However, I’d probably stick to the LPs, regardless of the profit loss…
The way you write the letter I feel present in your life. As you address yourself you pull your reader in. Advice, references, hold two povs more accurately connected by time. Like you are jumping from one point to another and back again. Interesting!
You both shared fabulous details about being 15! I love how both of you see the importance of the experiences, with Ryan saying, he didn’t want to be “ruining the surprise for you,” and Kaitlin saying, “all of these experiences are important for you to experience.” Funny how time does this to us – makes us see the value of all that went before.
My 15th year was quite a long time ago. I felt the need to stay light in my reflections; here’s mine:
Dear 15 year old self,
What is it with you and
Olivia Newton John?
You should know,
there’s a whole lot more music
to listen to than
Let Me Be There.
Trust me,
I was there.
When you are 60 and
you are listening to your oldies,
you will be so grateful for
your college friends.
You should know,
there is more to eat for dinner than
meat and potatoes.
Wait until you try
channa masala, oh my!
Heaven on earth.
Also, you are not fat.
If you were,
weight management is not resolved by
drinking Tab and eating
eight wheat thins for lunch.
Make peace with your physique.
Experience the joy of
breaking a sweat
through dancing, running, walking, and more.
You are strong and able.
Yes,
dating with a little brother chaperone is a total pain, and
certainly indicative of your parents’ lack of trust and
their limited perspective about women in general,
however,
this too shall pass.
When you get a taste of freedom
in just a few more years,
this will be nothing but a great story you tell.
Plus, when you have children,
you have a chance to “do over,”
to raise children who are allowed a voice and
who receive your trust.
Keep your head low,
keep your journal hidden, and
keep the faith!
Love,
your wiser self
Maureen, I love the way you’ve taken these snapshots to connect 15 year old you to present-day and how they become increasingly nuanced. I was tickled by the image of the Tab and “eight wheat thins” lunch and your “do over” with raising children is something I have observed (secretly) in my parents and think about for the day when I am raising my own (Mom, if you’re reading this, not saying that my childhood requires a “do over” :D).
Maureen,
We saw Olivia Newton John in Las Vegas a few years ago. Her voice was not mellow. ? That opening cracked me up. Seriously, every kid should eat masala and lots of other foods, too. Have you tried grasshoppers? They’re a delicacy in Oaxaca. Love those last three lines, especially “keep your journal hidden.” I do wish we could share a meal and a glass of wine. That would be so much fun. Thank you.
—Glenda
Oh, Olivia Newton John! I so wanted to look like her and would still accept it now, and the Tab and counting wheat thins (same here). I notice how you use white space here and reserve certain lines for just one word. I notice the anaphora in the final stanza with the word “keep” — this really emphasizes who you were is exactly who you needed to be and still are. You can still listen to Olivia — no one will judge you for that.
Peace,
Sarah
Maureen—again, you strike gold for me! I especially like the bit about the little brother chaperone. I, too, have undertaken do-overs for my children. I think we all try to correct our parents’ “sins”. I wonder which ones my children will correct… Carry on, Maureen.
Maureen, the first two lines brought a big smile to my face. I still am a fan of Olivia Newton-John. I too wish I had hidden my journals in better places.
I like your specific references to Tab, the brother who joins you on a date which is ‘indicative of your parents’ lack of trust.’ Somehow we all arrive a similar place regardless of our journey.
Dear Lauryl,
At fifteen you wanted to be an actress on Broadway, or even better at the West End. Even before then, you wanted to be a journalist but always had a knack for too much detail that journalism would never allow. While some paths have now taken you down different directions you wouldn’t change where your life is now and where you are headed. You should’ve always known you were going to become a teacher after you played school every day as a child and you were never the designated student.
At fifteen you blasted Taylor Swift love songs in the passenger seat of your mom’s green Ford Broncho as if you had been heartbroken by a million different boys. Nothing felt more cathartic than blasting “White Horse” down I-35 with the windows slightly cracked and hair flying in a multitude of different directions. Your music taste has definitely changed now, but you still crave that highway drive. It’s only you and the road now though.
At fifteen you were hurt by too many mean girls in school, but just hold on a little longer until you are able to reach your life-long best friends in college. Everything you went through before will be worth the torture just to even meet these wonderful people. You will feel like you’ve known them your whole life and college will fly by in the blink of an eye.
At fifteen you could’ve never envisioned how your life is now. How different things are from your imagination. I think if there is one lesson you should carry with you is to expect the unexpected and to embrace change. Change is the only constant now. I know you are a control freak and love to be in charge of everything, but sometimes it’s okay to just go with the flow. Embrace everything in life: the good, the bad, and the wildly fanciful and unexpected.
Best wishes,
Lauryl
Lauryl,
I feel such gratitude to Kaitlin and Ryan for inviting us to write in this way today and to witness you teen years in this ways. I, too, know about the mean girls and heartbreak, though I didn’t quite know their impact at the time. I love, love your last words: ” wildly fanciful and unexpected.” So beautiful to think about the possibility in the unexpected — that it can be so fanciful!
Peace,
Sarah
Stay asleep, don’t try to wake–
you won’t remember me anyway.
I know.
At 15, you’ve already been working
for two years, paying for school fees,
groceries, stealing lipstick from Budny’s
shelves after work, swiping quarters
from your sister’s tips as she slept, just to
buy a cookie from the cafeteria, contribute
a few bucks at the team pizza party.
Each moment is a distortion
in your mind, like you were hypnotized.
Flashes of walking home from school
in a storm, friends laughing in a car,
boy kissing too hard, parents whispering
in the dark, broken glass, shadows of—
I know, but you don’t have to.
Absent fissures cut into consciousness
for your protection. At 15, you don’t know
the extent of emotional debt accruing
around you, that other beings, siblings
feel it, too. So one day, when they all find
love and safety — and you will, too —
they will help you fill in the gaps you need
and let you forget the remainders.
It is time to wake now, Sarah.
You wont’ remember me,
but I hope you wake with love.
Sarah,
I love the way this is framed as you visiting your former self in a dream-state. The whole poem flows in and out of the abstract and concrete which captures the 15-year old state of certain uncertainty so well: what is real? what is worth remembering? forgetting?
Thank you for sharing!
Sarah, coming to your younger self in sleep is a fun spin. I imagine what our younger selves would have thought of our older selves standing at the foot of the bed or reading a letter from us. I wonder now what I would think if an older me came to tell me things – – would I want to know the future? Would I listen? Would I think myself slap out of my mind?
I like this part of your letter best:
At 15, you don’t know
the extent of emotional debt accruing
………..
they will help you fill in the gaps you need
and let you forget the remainders.
That’s a beautiful thing for an older self to say to a younger self to help the younger self sleep sweet and sound.
Dr. Donovan,
I really enjoyed the dream twist that you took on this prompt. Many times when we are sleeping and wake up we can think of lessons our dream taught us (at least for me) so this was an interesting idea. Maybe our former selves subconciously try to give us advice while we’re sleeping. Thanks for sharing!
Sarah—your dreams, and the truths they share, show so much of the past that formed you, and allow you to share with us. Look at all the joy and insight you bring.
I love the idea of having this come in a dream. This reminds me so much of moments in your book, like little touchstones to the larger scenes you created. Perfect lines: “Absent fissures cut into consciousness for your protection” “they will help you fill in the gaps you need and let you forget the remainders.”
Sarah,
I love the tender tone, especially the end “wake with love.” I wonder home many of us had the occasional sticky fingers we used to survive. For myself and my sister it was stealing candy as small children. I suspect we were hungry. The little fragments are wonderful replications is the way our minds work. Thank you.
—Glenda
That ending…oh, my! I love how gentle full of love it is. Your entire poem is beautifully written and I don’t think I’ll forget the last stanza any time soon.
The moments and images which shape us, define us or are remembered. You clearly show us who you were at 15. Not terribly different from the students I teach. I’ll try to remember that survival is possible.
Sarah,
This weighs heavily on me. I’ve scrolled back to it three times to see if it can rest with me a little more easily. Like others, I love the dream state that you use and the ending is especially powerful.
But the line “I know, but you don’t have to” that you isolate by itself is what sticks.
Thank you Katilin and Ryan, I can tell that you are closer to 15 and have many memories. I only have a smattering, but this was fun nonetheless. Thank you for the challenge today!
Dear Denise,
At fifteen, you will be in grade 10, with a new stylish haircut and feeling on top of the world.
You will be dreamily thinking about Steve T. and John B. while you sit in accounting class.
Really, why are you in that class? Get up now and go sign up for Algebra.
At fifteen you will dance with Steve, but that’s all, so quit daydreaming.
You will try out for cheerleading, but you won’t make it.
So, pick yourself up and know that everything will be OK.
At fifteen, you will think you want to follow in your sisters’ footsteps and be a secretary.
It’s okay, you haven’t had many role models, but believe it or not, you will get a BA and an MA.
So, get to that Algebra class and take some AP courses while you’re at it.
At fifteen you will think the world revolves around your reputation at school.
Don’t worry, everyone else thinks the same thing and aren’t paying attention to you.
Know that this too will pass and there is another world where all that doesn’t matter.
At fifteen you think you know it all.
At fifteen you don’t know much.
At fifteen you will be forgiven.
Carry on, you make it to 16 and even 61.
One day at a time.
Love and grace,
Your older self
Denise,
I so appreciate how today’s inspiration helps us all get to know one another better. It is amazing how we’ve been spending time together every day for 22 days and learn more with each poem? I so love this line: “It’s okay, you haven’t had many role models, but believe it or not, you will get a BA and an MA.” I think sometimes we become the absences, we imagine and invent into the gaps. You are an inspiration.
Love,
Sarah
We are peers!! I found myself totally relating to your words. Loved the admonishing “teacher” voice – “Get up now and go sign up for Algebra” ! (my exclamation point) Made me chuckle…there’s 15 year old self lost in a fog about boys and dancing, when so much more is possible. “This too will pass” was a line I used as well…I definitely heard this a lot from a very dear Aunt, who gave me a much-needed shoulder a time or two. “At fifteen you think you know it all/At fifteen you don’t know much/At fifteen you will be forgiven.” – so true! So true!
At fifteen, you will be forgiven. What a beautiful line.
Denise,
I’ve read this multiple times and each time I land on something else that really hits me. Basically, I love the whole thing.
I think I was struck by how many 15-year-olds are “limited” often to what they see in their own little world, and often don’t, won’t, can’t see beyond and outside where they are. You DID go on to earn a BA and an MA!
I think my favorite stanza is this one:
“At fifteen you will think the world revolves around your reputation at school.
Don’t worry, everyone else thinks the same thing and aren’t paying attention to you.
Know that this too will pass and there is another world where all that doesn’t matter.”
If only all 15-year-olds could realize this.
Kaitlyn and Ryan, too cute! Thank you both for sharing these precious memories and letters to your younger selves. You have the benefit of your youth to easily bring to memory all of these sweet details and events.
Kaitlyn I loved this because it had to be every new driver’s torment:
“The anxiety will start to wear off after a while, especially once you finally get your license and you no longer have your father yelling from the passenger seat.”
Ryan, I had deep sorrow for you with the loss of the pets. That is one of the worst experiences we go through regardless of age. But the end sticks with me the most because it is like my wish for my daughter to speak these exact words to me someday:
“Just remember at the end of the day that you have people who care about you and want to see you succeed and show them that you can meet those expectations that they set for you.”
Both of you have much to be proud of and I hope that your journey into education brings you both many rewards. Stay well and safe. I’ll post my poem shortly.
Dear Emily,
At fifteen you’re gonna feel like
you have it all figured out
Embrace it – it’ll become fleeting
But remember you aren’t stronger than the sun
Wear sunscreen to cross country practice
Tomboy, tough as nails
Surprise! You’ll join the cheer squad this year
Just to remind you and everyone around you
You have surprises up your sleeve
At fifteen you’ll shift to big sister
Stacy will graduate. Cynthia will join up.
Be prepared – she’ll come to school with a belly button piercing
Tell her you won’t tell mom
Even though you will
Call Stacy – she’ll know what to do
At fifteen Ryan is going to kiss you
Let him down easy
You still have some growing up to do
And in five years time
you’ll kiss him back
And six more years
you’ll exchange vows
They’ll both begin with “Fifteen years ago…”
In time,
Emily
Emily—this is a beautiful picture of you as a fifteen year old. I think I would have liked you!
Awww aren’t you the cutest 15-year old you!! I love the end MOST but that’s because it’s the hopeful romantic in me.
I had no idea you have a Stacy in your family. I hope she is a good big sis. Sounds like she was so she probably still is.
The beginning says so much too that I loved.
Tomboy, tough as nails
Surprise! You’ll join the cheer squad this year
As a tomboy, tough as nails little girl, I also was a cheerleader. Funny how these phases of our lives are so similar. You have so much to be proud of. It doesn’t sound like you were a difficult 15-year old like so many others (me)!!
Have a wonderful day, my friend! This was adorable!
Emily,
What strikes me here (and in reading some of the other poems today) is that we are like authors who know the plot points of our lives, and the way you unfold your encounters with Ryan move us from and through the beginning of the story to now, and the story that continues. Or maybe it is more like a thread that we pull through — some aspects of our lives are like these enduring threads we pull and others we cut. Glad Ryan made the cut.
Sarah
OH! How precious that you married your 15 year old sweetheart! That is so precious, and a gem of a description of him and you, respecting and knowing, “You still have some growing up to do.” I love how in just a few lines, I feel as if I got insight into your sweet relationship with your sisters…”Call Stacy – she’ll know what to do,” was such a great conclusion to that stanza. One final standout – how you said “Embrace it – it’ll become fleeting” to that 15 year old sense of ‘having it all figured out’ – what a fabulous message to convey to a young woman, embrace this feeling of knowing, believe in your power and ability. I hope you are teaching adolescents! This is the strong message they deserve. Thank you for this!!
Emily — Thank you for sharing this picture of you as a 15-year old… and a neat little sister. I love that part about keeping your sister’s piercing a secret and then not. 🙂 Made me smile. The last lines about Ryan… the 5-year interlude… and this is your vowed sweetie. How sweet is that?! I love that. You made 15 quite pivotal! Thank you for this slice of your life. Susie
Oh, Emily, when I read “In five years time” I knew what was coming, and I cheered! Such a sweet, sweet love story. Now, I’m curious about the ending. Your vows started with “Fifteen years ago…” Does that mean you mean at age 11? Such a lovely number 15 tying all the poem together.
Another thing I wish I would have told my 15 year old self is the sunscreen admonition. I had forgotten that one!
We met at age 11 when we started 7th grade. It’s been a long time! Thank you for your kind message!
Letter to Myself at 15
Having read THE FOUR AGREEMENTS by Don Miguel Ruiz
“Be impeccable with your word.”
Your words should not be a diet of
Bite-size non-nutritive snacks.
Learn, speak the truth, live boldly.
“Don’t take anything personally.”
Like a ruminant, you will chew incessantly
On the hurtful actions and words of others.
Let go, love, live boldly.
“Don’t make assumptions.”
You will drink the dregs of misunderstanding,
Then drunk on blame, you will be too blind to see the truth.
Open your eyes, see, live boldly.
“Always do your best.”
Turns out life is a moveable feast.
You will dine in scarcity and in excess.
Mind your manners, serve your best, live boldly.
Katrina—if only we could have had these wise words when we were fifteen. I would like to make a copy of this to share with my students… Thank you!
What a terrific poem, so affirming, so strong. That each stanza uses food metaphors in its message is so creative….”you will drink the dregs of misunderstanding/Then drunk on blame” was especially poignant. Your younger self – all 15 year olds, really – would welcome the charge of “live boldly,” which really is your overarching message. Yay! Loved this.
Katrina, I always enjoy when other literature is pulled in to poetry. This is super! I like this part best:
“Don’t make assumptions.”
You will drink the dregs of misunderstanding,
Then drunk on blame, you will be too blind to see the truth.
Open your eyes, see, live boldly.
How true this is!
Katrina — This is beautifully stated. I love the choice of Ruiz’ 4 agreements. And these lines really carried this images: “words should not be… bite-sized, non-nutritive snacks” and “ruminant…chew incessantly on hurtful actions and words” and “dregs of misunderstandings” and “life is a moveable feast.” Really lovely agreements to offer your young self. Susie
Hey Rachel,
It’s Rachel. Yourself—from the future.
I want to give you a little glimpse ahead at the next 10 years,
just to get you excited.
There are three versions, all are true.
Proceed at your own risk.
Love,
Me
(In an envelope labeled: What you think you want to know.)
15 – you’ll learn how to drive. (No crashes!)
16 – you’ll find a new friend group.
17 – you’ll win regionals.
18 – you’ll start college at BYU.
19 – you’ll move to Suriname. (Where the heck is Suriname? Look it up.)
20 – you’ll be home in time for Christmas.
21 – you’ll have your first kiss. (Under the stars, super romantic.)
22 – you’ll meet the man who becomes your husband. (Online dating works.)
23 – you’ll get married.
24 – you’ll have your first child. (It’s a girl!)
(In an envelope labeled: What you probably don’t want to know.)
15 – you’ll be super lonely.
16 – you’ll enter a caustic friendship.
17 – you’ll be 5 spots short of getting into finals at grand nationals.
18 – you’ll earn three B+’s your first semester of college.
19 – you’ll be extremely home sick.
20 – you’ll start having food insecurities.
21 – you’ll struggle with anxiety.
22 – you’ll have a nasty break up.
23 – you’ll be nauseous for 3 months straight.
24 – you’ll endure a pandemic.
(In an envelope labeled: What’s actually important.)
15 – you’ll learn Clair de Lune on the piano.
16 – you’ll see Les Miserables at the Shakespeare Festival.
17 – you’ll visit Niagara Falls. (Breathtaking!)
18 – you’ll chop your hair really short.
19 – you’ll start eating frozen bananas. (Best snack ever, I’m tellin’ ya.)
20 – you’ll get to hold a sloth.
21 – you’ll have a pie thrown in your face.
22 – you’ll try pho for the first time.
23 – you’ll ride in a limousine. (Be ready, it’s magical.)
24 – you’ll start writing poetry.
This is so creative. Love it so much. You’ve been through a lot. It’s really cool to see what matches in each year, even though I don’t know you. Thanks for sharing.
Rachel,
This is a fun trope: and the envelop, please. I bet you and I know some of the same people since you went to BYU. Many of my favorite students have and are BYU alumni and students. I’m thinking you served your mission in Suriname, yes? Now I must shove a banana into the freezer and see if I like it frozen. Thank you.
—Glenda
This is wonderful! Love the envelope approach, and thE level of detail!
Rachel, this is brilliant and lovely and touching. I wish I had thought of this…might just have to follow your lead on this.
Rachel,
I love this organizational structure and the figurative envelopes. I can see this being a great inspiration for student writing to reflect from these different lenses. Of course, I especially love the final line “you’ll start writing poetry.”
Peace,
Sarah
Rachel, that “three envelopes” approach is captivating – – I like the classifications and the way you organized your thinking and your life events this way. High five!!
Rachel,
Bravo! The creative structure of this is incredible. I love the detail and the way you compartmentalize happenings in your life.
Kaitlin and Ryan,
I loved both of your letters to your younger selves. They were so raw and touching. Kaitlin I loved how you talked about friendships and forgiving and Ryan I loved how you talked about loss and accepting. I like how both of you also talked about learning how to drive and the difficulties associated with that. Thank you both for the amazing prompt idea!
Naydeen,
At fifteen you will forget what it’s like to be fourteen
and you will leave all of that behind
A lot of things will change that year
some in your control
and some out of your control.
You will stop talking to most of your friends
and not out of hate or resentment
But it’s time to grow up and they haven’t learned that yet.
So you must leave and hope that one day they understand
Which they will, it will just take them time.
At fifteen you will dye your hair light brown for the second time
because you just felt like you needed a change
and your hair was something in your control.
You will love the brown and it will match your eyes perfectly.
You will eventually dye it back to your darker color
because you’re OCD and you hated that your roots were showing.
After you dye it dark you will wonder why you ever dyed it in the first place.
You are indecisive and you can’t really change that,
I’d like to say you will grow out of that,
but I’m not going to lie to you.
At fifteen you will have your quinceneara in El Paso, you will become a women
and you will learn a lot that night.
That most of your cousins drink
Your family may be too loud
and that cops are ruthless when they feel their power threatened.
That is also the night that tio Jose will die
and you learn to be okay with things that are not okay.
Your dad will be there and you will learn later
that he went for himself and not for you
and that is just something that you have to accept.
At fifteen you will be a few months into your Sophomore year
It will be the best and worst year of your life.
You will find a second home in NJROTC
and be thankful that you have a place you feel safe.
That is also that year that you and Makayla grow closer
and you guys will enjoy long talks in her car
and make memories that you will talk about 6 years later in college.
Later that year the second baby in your family will die
and Tassidae’s mourning will almost take her
and your family will be changed forever.
You will learn that you can do everything just right
but that death does not discriminate.
There is more I have to say, but I can’t tell you in a way that you will understand.
Fifteen is just something you have to experience to understand.
It will be amazing and horrible and you will love and hate it.
You will learn so much that year and I it will shape your life forever.
I can only hope that you can accept things for how they are,
and if you can’t, I hope you find the courage to change things.
Everything will be okay and you will survive,
and come out better for it.
It does get better, please believe me.
Love,
You.
Naydeen,
So much celebration of culture—your Quinceneara—and heartbreak, Jose’s death and your learning “to be okay with things that are not okay.” No child should have to learn such things. I wish things would change more: “ cops are ruthless when they feel their power threatened.” That must change. I can’t help but think about all life’s beautiful paradoxes in the lines “Fifteen is just something you have to experience to understand.
It will be amazing and horrible and you will love and hate it.” Thank you. Your letter/poem is lovely.
—Glenda
Naydeen, thank you for sharing this today. The emotional, but candid tone of your piece really captured my attention as I read. The second stanza has some lines that really punched me right in the chest. You were gentle with your fifteen year old self – so beautifully communicated!
Naydeen, this reads like a novel in verse. I think you should begin writing your memoir. I adore so much about this journey of your 15-year old self.
I love the acceptance of…
You are indecisive and you can’t really change that,
I’d like to say you will grow out of that,
but I’m not going to lie to you.
I love the realization life’s ups and downs…
That is also the night that tio Jose will die
and you learn to be okay with things that are not okay.
I love what you learned…
You will learn that you can do everything just right
Naydeen, it’s a sweet story of acceptance. It gives me hope for our young people today who will have similar struggles but will one day ACCEPT themselves.
Beautiful!
Well, Naydeen, I am just speechless with immense gratitude for this window to your life. I love the big, philosophical ideas and feel deep sorrow for your loss. The way you so tenderly talk to your younger self is lovely and the actions that gesture at your deepest, truest being. These lines especially made me smile:
You will love the brown and it will match your eyes perfectly.
You will eventually dye it back to your darker color
because you’re OCD and you hated that your roots were showing.
After you dye it dark you will wonder why you ever dyed it in the first place.
Love this appreciation for self,
Sarah
Naydeen, there is magic here. Yes, I agree – – a verse novel indeed! This line is so true:
Death does not discriminate. Oh, what a heartbreaker to have had to accept the loss of a young family member. You have been down some roads that have given you some keen insights that come through so clearly in your writing. Don’t stop sharing those roads – – this is real and soul-grabbing!
Naydeen — The sensitivity of the guiding voice in this is quite precious. I feel the respect for what 15-year old you had to experience in the loss of a baby and Tio Jose — so heartbreaking. Such a sadness in those losses…. “changed forever.” The reality of learning to navigate “amazing and horrible” is handled with caring and a loving voice. That is clearly part of who you are. So, good. This is such an encouraging poem. Thank you, Susie
“Letter to 15-Year-Old Me from 60+1 Me”
Hey, Glenda:
Remember what a shy, insecure dumbass you were at 15?
You outgrow those insecurities & learn a little along the way.
You should have learned more.
That’s the first lesson.
You’re still using things learned at 15.
Do the math.
Seriously, do more math.
Your time with family ticks away.
You move away to Arizona, Iowa, Idaho.
These geographical journeys parallel metaphysical travel.
Love each place more. Discovery their uniqueness sooner.
Señorita Hill said you’d need Spanish.
No habla Espanol gets redundant.
You’ll have other regrets.
You still learn the hard way.
Over. And. Over.
Human nature and habits: Hard to change like a tire on a Pinto on I-44. Remember?
You’ll have other scary experiences.
Write them.
You never expected to be one of three white people in your first classroom.
Your students are poems. Write those poems.
Your grief knows no timeline.
Internalize you’re father’s advice a little sooner:
“Never put up with crap from men.
Always be financially independent.”
You’ll need that advice since it took you over a decade to learn the first “I do” didn’t like to work much. LOL
Grandpa’s words.
You’ll treasure his memory, his sage advice & the hope chest in your bedroom forty plus years later.
Read the inscription today. Feel. Open yourself.
You’ll regret not having him teach you to use power tools, but
Be careful what you wish for. That’s a cliche, and you don’t like cliches. Truth.
Learn to be slow to anger sooner. You don’t need the family hot-headed conflagrations.
Learn to forgive but never forget.
These are mutually exclusive.
You’ll need the memories to avoid repeats.
You’ll need forgiveness of others for yourself.
Internalize Jesus’s teachings as well as those of Buddha and Mohammed.
Ignore religions. At 21 your instincts about them are right.
You’ve always been a feminist. That’s a good thing.
Let go of fear while raising your children.
You’re a better mother than you had. It’s not enough. Abandon those fears.
Do more in service of others and less in service of self.
Make a life first. Make a living to make a life.
If only you knew at 15 what you know now. Whatever. Hindsight is 2020.
Pun intended. ?
Some cliches do speak truths.
—Glenda Funk
The range of emotion in here is brilliant. I have many favorite line. Ah! “Seriously, do more math.” HAHA. “Human nature and habits: Hard to change like a tire on a Pinto on I-44” great simile! “You don’t need the family hot-headed conflagrations.” -I’ve always loved the word “conflagration” and you use it powerfully here. And last but not least – “Hindsight is 2020”! Boom. Why didn’t I think of that?? So clever 🙂 Thanks for sharing life and lovely writing, Glenda!
Good morning Glenda,
So much to enjoy, smile, sigh about in your poem today. I enjoyed these two lines because they felt like you wrote them for 15-year old me, 40-year old me, and 50-year old me!
“Your students are poems. Write those poems….
“the first “I do” didn’t like to work much…” We already know we’ve suffered that same non-working much first I do!
Then this:
“You’ll need the memories to avoid repeats.
You’ll need forgiveness of others for yourself.”
I could really just stop here and spend the day with this. I’ve spent enormous time and energy avoiding repeats of tragic memories. Lord knows. But the forgiveness of others for myself is the greatest life lesson from the last 5 years. It helped me get past wanting to destroy that first I do. LOL, you know what I mean.
Thank you for the fun journey this poem gave me.
Love how you can talk to yourself…the way you love your former self. I came here for inspiration and I found it.
Glenda,
Thank you for making me LOL before getting out of bed this morning. I only read that first line before…who knows what yanked me out of bed, but, since reading the rest, I so appreciate your tone here. You’re loving to 15-year old you, but also no nonsense. Which, of course with hindsight, we all know it’s what we needed yet not anything we would have actually taken seriously. As I read through your poem, I felt myself lightening. You touch on so many painful realizations, but, again, with laughter and grace. I also love “You’ll need the memories to avoid repeats.” So true, so hard to grasp.
Glenda, this is gold:
Internalize your father’s advice a little sooner:
“Never put up with crap from men.
Always be financially independent.”
You’ll need that advice since it took you over a decade to learn the first “I do” didn’t like to work much. LOL
It’s amazing how our fathers got this so right, isn’t it? Great reminders for all of us here – whether we are 15 or 55 or 70……
I love all of your words of wisdom and experience. I also like the forgive and forget advice, too……really true, and really difficult to forgive sometimes.
Glenda, my dear peer! We have so much in common. Loved the way you weave jokes into sad pain, love how you speak frankly to your younger self … and such a teacher’s stern voice, at times (I am seeing this in a lot of our poems today…so funny…I guess b/c we’re teachers?) Example “You should have learned more.” and “Seriously, do the math” LOL. These words touched my heart: “You’re a better mother than you had. It’s not enough. Abandon those fears.” I want to challenge you – it is enough. I’ve been working on this same lesson all my life; I’m learning to say ‘it is enough.’ Lastly, dang it, I wish I had thought to include a line or two about religion in my poem – again, we are similar; I so agree, “Internalize Jesus’s teachings as well as those of Buddha and Mohammed.” Loved getting to know you better through this fun exercise!
Glenda — I loved the voice in this… sassy, blunt, funny, honest, full-of-vinegar, loving, nurturing. Dang…that’s really terrific. So many of these are favorites for me. I’ll choose these for now: Spanish (I’ve been slowly expanding my lame yrs of Sp. in HS…I’m going to take a course and get serious about this); “still learn the hard way” (you’d think I could change that… hmmm); “your students are poems” (ABSOLUTELY!); “never put up with crap from men” (Amen, sista!); “as well as .. Buddha and Mohammed/ignore religions…instincts..”; “more in service of others.” Such a wonderful guiding voice. Thank you, Susie
Oh, Glenda, what honest talk and great advice. It’s motherly advice for your sweet teenage self. I think this poem must have been a healing and beautiful gift to you today. It was to me. Thank you for writing it. I can’t even begin to pick favorite lines. It is just the whole–the honesty, the challenge, the love and acceptance, and the gentle encouraging and teaching throughout. Just beautiful.
Dear Fifteen
Sit down, sweetheart.
You are not going to BELIEVE
the things I have to tell you!
I am going to just sum it all up—
You are going to make more mistakes
than you can even imagine. But those mistakes
are going to turn you into a very interesting senior citizen.
You will cuss. A lot. Probably more than you should.
Those plans you have?? HA!!! Plans are made to be changed.
It will take three colleges to get your BA in a major you won’t use and date a much older man and find out that’s no good and grow up and move away and have a good job you hate and meet a guy that your mom hates and marry him and have one child and then twins (not a smart move, by the way) and, oh, yes—there’s a recession that messes everything up and you get around to teaching at forty and you finally have a job you love and then your kids will grow up and move out.
You will be a very bad housekeeper.
All of this requires a lot of cussing.
Even before Corona Virus 19.
(We won’t even talk about that—you wouldn’t believe me, anyway.)
So here is my advice, fifteen. Take it step by step.
Every decision and every mistake you make
will teach you a lesson.
Learn from them.
Mix it up.
Make a different mistake every time.
(You were really good at the mistake thing in the seventies.)
Throw in a few good decisions now and again
just to keep it interesting.
(That guy your mom hated is a keeper, by the way.)
Love your people, get a lot of pets, and keep your weight down.
Your knees will thank you.
A couple of good cuss words will always clear the air.
You have a heck of a ride ahead, fifteen…
Gayle, I like your middle part with no periods – shows the effect of all that time passing. I love “throw in a few good decisions to make it interesting” – good advice 🙂 and of course the requirement of cussing. You are also good at humor. Thanks for sharing!
Gayle,
Cuss in triplicate! You, friend, are not alone. Do you know the song “Perfect Lady” by Kip Ataway? He’s from Jackson Hole, Wyoming. Anyway, one line of lyrics is “she’s be the perfect lady if she didn’t say fuck so much.” I love that song. Love getting to know you better through your letter/poem. I can tell we’re all going to be better acquainted after today. Thank you.
—Glenda
Gayle, I love the energy of your letter! The lessons toward the end of your writing made me smile today. I also did and still do cuss a lot so this made me grin! My favorite line is “(That guy your mom hated is a keeper, by the way.)”
Gayle, I like how you refer to yourself as “fifteen” – reminds me of “Hey, Nineteen,” the song…..that’s a neat way to address yourself. My favorite line is
You will cuss. A lot. Probably more than you should.
I like how you circle back to cussing at housekeeping and then again at the end to cussing to clear the air.
Sometimes it really does clear the air – – just a string of good cuss words flying out, unannounced.
I also like the part where you sort of put it on fast forward and give us event after event. Like a fast forward of a movie of your life, a little bit. It’s real, and the humor is fabulous!
Kaitlin and Ryan,
Thank you for following your interests and passions into the world of ELA teaching! I’m sure you will both be phenomenal.
This prompt is awesome! Anything that urges people back into their past is sure to harvest wonderful ideas–and emotions. I do have to say that 15 was A LOT longer ago for most of us, so I may not be able to dredge up the wonderful detail that you both have.
Kaitlin . . . I laughed, winced, and cried with you while reading your poem. I have to say that the whole stanza about learning to drive really caught my eye. I think you could definitely cull those lines out into another very metaphorical poem.
Ryan . . . I sure notice how PEOPLE are at the core of your poem. That’s truly special.
Well, I have to go teach my almost-15-year-old students, and in the middle of lessons today, I plan to dig into the recesses of my brain to 1980. Thanks for the fantastic inspiration.
Well, yall made me cry today. It was a somewhat good cry, for myself and my own memories. Not because of anyone else. Thanks. Kaitlin, I like that you’re still close friends with someone you dated. Don’t have the pleasure of that. Would be nice. Ryan, I like “you will think you know everything” and “choose dad”. The latter because I had to make a decision (I think more serious) between my parents, and I guess I just kind of relate. Love the optimism in both of your endings. Thanks for this prompt today.
Angie,
At fifteen you will have a birthday.
Your golden birthday.
Cherish it, write about it.
You will forget it if you don’t.
You will love school but you’ll also be a little rebellious
You should probably stay a “little” rebellious.
Nothing more.
I know it might be hard for a girl who always follows the rules.
This will be the one year you do not like your English teacher,
but there’s always something to learn.
And you will read a play
that you will teach in ten years.
Maybe pay more attention.
So you can compare and contrast.
And if you don’t want to memorise the feel of benches,
you should practice more.
You will get to be a fish
in your backyard pool.
Enjoy it because while you are fifteen,
your parents will tell you that you are moving to a different state
for the second time in your life.
Your brother will be enraged,
for good reason – he’s a junior.
You will not say anything.
Please say something.
You never have strong opinions and maybe you should.
They will ask you how you feel.
You will cry in your room alone trying to figure out how you feel.
Somewhere in the middle, always.
Maybe just say that.
At fifteen, you will move to Louisiana
Cross country.
The cat you’ve had for sixish years will disappear
right before you leave.
And this is when you will know the feeling of having no closure.
Maybe this is when your obsession with knowing the truth is formed.
Where did he go?
You will go to a new school
Experience culture shock.
You will be malleable clay
Wanting to fit into everyone’s hands
Be yourself without their hands.
You will be exposed to those things you only saw in movies.
Years later, sometimes you will forget these things happened to you.
You will need to figure out the balance between being careful and being open.
At fifteen, your dad will give you the keys to his truck on New Year’s Eve
and let you drive somewhere with your friend
even though you’ve never driven anywhere by yourself before.
even though you don’t have a license?
You will put one foot on each petal
and know you won’t die.
You will enjoy this freedom
and you will take advantage of it later.
Do not take advantage of it.
At fifteen, you will not live with your brother for the first time in your life.
Too soon.
You will be happy for him,
you will be heartbroken.
It’ll be ok…you’ll live together again someday.
Not long after, you will no longer live with your grandma.
Not long after, you will no longer live with your dad.
Maybe make sure that’s what you want.
It will somewhat shape your future.
At fifteen, you will exchange “i love you” with some guy.
You will think you feel something like love.
Be careful,
many things feel like love at this age,
at the end of fifteen.
I am intrigued by your life and how you got from Louisiana at 15 to Bangladesh. There’s so much more to the story, I’m sure. I could relate to “say something” to “maybe just say that.” It’s definitely true for me. I was a recluse at 15. Shut in my room with my record player and my diary. It wasn’t the best of times. I haven’t decided yet if I’m going back there today.
Angie,
Your letter/poem is gorgeous, lyrical, haunting. Parts of it broke my heart: the truth implied in what happened to your cat, and the choices you and others were forced to make. I love this part and think about my own tears at 15:
“You never have strong opinions and maybe you should.
They will ask you how you feel.
You will cry in your room alone trying to figure out how you feel.”
Really beautiful poem. Thanks for your openness.
—Glenda
Angie, thank you for sharing this writing with us today. I am blown away by the emotion and tone of your piece. You’ve been able to describe and hint at huge life changes in your writing through concise stanzas – so amazing. “Many things feel like love at this age” – my favorite line.
I appreciate the importance you place on family here. I wish I could go back and relish the time I had with them.
Kaitlyn and Ryan, your prompt today is phenomenal, and your letters are priceless. Kaitlyn, those dreaded apologies that we have to make to friends can’t come a minute too soon, but the awkwardness of those moments is worth every bit of satisfaction in getting through the clouds and back to good times. Ryan, when you love your animals deeply, there will always be a hole in your heart when one leaves. The more you love, the worse it hurts – – so love deeply and know that you will make a difference for every dog you ever rescue. Tom Ryan’s books Following Atticus and Will’s Red Coat help readers see rescue from the dog’s perspective and heal our hearts!
Thank you both for helping us grow and stretch ourselves as writers today.
Dear 15 year old self,
It’s you, coming to you with perspective from the year 2020. I’m here to tell you: don’t do anything differently. The road to 2020 is paved with a lot of mistakes and regrets, but there are beautiful lessons about life in each of them, and timing is essential. You may often wish that you had first married husband #2 (oops, sorry for the spoiler), but neither of you would have been tenderized and ready for real love until you’d gone through #1 and until life brings you to the very moment when God’s timing is perfect for you both. Nor would you have children and grandchildren (oops, sorry for another spoiler) without the first donor’s DNA. Endure the hardships to reap the bounties of discovery and appreciation. The sunshine is fully appreciated after the storms – just like that dissertation (not an oops – that’s a spoiler worth knowing: hang in there). Have faith in God and talk to Him daily, work hard to play hard, and enjoy the simple things: reading, writing, nature walks, and coffee on the porch swing. You don’t need any winning lottery numbers – you are far better off traveling lightly through life and remaining unspoiled to extravagant tastes and luxuries. Learn to split an entrée and share a dessert.
I’ll be waiting for you in 2020, and we’ll talk more then about the state of the world. Here’s one last spoiler: in 2019, ditch your thinking that “having more than four rolls of toilet paper is a fire hazard” and go ahead and buy the deluxe 12-roll package. It’ll come in handy. I’d tell you why, but you’d never believe me. Just do it. Forty years will fly, so enjoy every minute!
Love,
Your future self
I like the (oops, sorry for the spoilers) gotta appreciate humor. You do humor well and turning negatives into positives. Thank you for sharing more snaps of your life, Kim 🙂
Kim,
I love the paradox in “don’t do anything differently” and “the road to 2020 is paved with a lot of mistakes and regrets.” Buy the toilet paper is funny. I’ve never thought of toilet paper as a fire hazard in the same way. Always love getting to know more about you. Thank you.
—Glenda
I love your perspective in this piece: don’t do anything differently! Maybe it wasn’t a totally smooth road, but everything happened for a reason and has lead you to where you are today. I’m sure that would have been a comfort to your 15 year old self! (You’re not going to mess up some grand plan 🙂 )
Oh, your last lines are so fun and funny. I like how you are waiting for yourself. What beauty here.
Love the toilet paper concept—fire hazard? Just do it… so many bits of good advice. Learn to split an entree and share dessert…
Kim — This is another dandy…. right down to the TP! LOL! What I loved so much about this is the shared thinking that we have about how even the crappy stuff turns into stories and lessons. It is a sign of remarkable resilience that you have that sense of a better tomorrow…and it’s not baloney… it’s real.. you have that “growth mindset” that Carol Dweck writes about… you see possibilities rather than the walls. In the world of transformational school leadership, this is a central characteristic of transformative change in our schools. That makes you a key player in education, my friend. I love that. Thanks for sharing your young self here. Susie