The Teen Voice - Laurel Springs Home School

The Teen Voice

We live in a world that is ever changing, but one thing remains constant, the power of a young mind. From generation to generation the power of its youths around the world is undeniable, and so this power must be cultivated and nurtured. I do not speak of the power of beauty and youths allure, although its power is undeniable as well, I speak of the power to change the world which comes from the vitality and honesty that seems to stem from young people. Laurel Springs School understands this, and due to their appreciation for unique concepts, they have allowed us to create the Teen Voice.

The Teen Voice was created in order to connect the LSS student community. It is a safe haven for students to voice their opinions, share their dreams, and embrace their passions. Your choice of topics is endless! From entertainment to history, from politics and sports to spirituality and society today; nothing is nonnegotiable.

In short, the Teen Voice is about you!

What you like or dislike. What you are for or against. What you believe in or never understood in the first place.

Its your voice, so use it!

Every month the Teen Voice features new topics or themes. How you express your ideas or feelings on these topics is up to you. You can choose to send in poetry, artwork, essays, short stories, etc. And if you have something special you would like to turn in, but it doesnt fit the topics below, SEND IT IN ANYWAY!! We can certainly use your work in the next months issue.

Letter from the Editor:

               Usually the Teen Voice focuses on various pieces of work. This special issue, however, is centered on one LSS student's foray into the world of self-discovery. I am lucky enough to call this author a personal friend of mine, and I hope that his great heart, fine mind, and unbreakable devotion to his goals come across for you in this essay.

If you are a student at LSS in grades 9-12, and would like to participate in the Teen Voice, please send your work to the people below:

Cristina Fard: mcleonella@hotmail.com

Editor

Amber Walker: awalker@laurelsprings.com

LSS Moderator

For the Teen Voice

If you have any questions, or topic suggestions, please send them to your Editor, Cristina, at the email above.

             The man who has no imagination has no wings.

                                                                                 ~Muhammad Ali

The Moments Which Made Me

                                                  By Rod Lundgren

My childhood was extremely out of the ordinary. I was the geek, and because of that I was the outcast of all outcasts in my school. I was made fun of every day, tormented without mercy. I decided that instead of trying to fit in like I was, I would just immerse myself in my schoolwork. From that moment on, I paid no attention to those who made fun of me. And since I was in a public school, the work was simply too easy. My parents then decided to put me into private school. I was ecstatic cause I wanted to have lots of work to challenge myself. But as the saying goes: Be careful what you wish for.

          I entered Ste. Jeanne dArc School, a private Catholic school, when I was only in 4^th grade. I quickly discovered that maybe my choice of schooling wasnt the smartest. In 4^th grade, we were already doing middle school course work that was so grueling as is, it made me almost have a meltdown when I found out there would be a mandatory Science Fair, Art Fair and Research Paper.

          For the first couple weeks, I remained the outcast. I tried so desperately to fit in, but no matter how hard I tried, I was only kidding myself. Soon, I began talking to this girl who sat next to me. She introduced me to her friends and I was in. I had found a great group of friends. Pretty soon, I was friends with pretty much everyone. The friendships were the real deal. The friends I had made were there for me, and I was there for them whenever they needed me. Everything stayed pretty much the same until 7^th grade.

          My father had always put time aside during my summer breaks to hang out with me. The summer before my 7^th grade year, though, it seemed as if he took more time off than usual. It didnt matter though; the two of us became inseparable. We went fishing every weekend, the Lowell Spinners baseball games every chance we could, and new, exciting movies every Saturday. It seemed as soon as summer had started, summer was over and it was time to head back to school.

          About 1 month into the school year, on a cold and cloudless Friday night, 2 friends were over my house and we were researching and putting together a project for school. Since my mom picked up my friends, my dad agreed to drive them home. Well it soon became apparent that we had finished our project and it was time for my friends to head home. We informed our dad, but my mom saw he was enjoying the Olympic basketball game on TV and decided to take my friends home instead.

          By the time we returned home, about an hour and a half later, we couldnt find my father. His car was still in the garage so we thought he was possibly hiding to try and scare us, as he usually did. After several minutes of searching, my mom finally went down into the basement. Everything was sort of a blur after that. But my mom had found my father dead down in the basement, apparently doing handiwork before it happened. I was in a complete trance for days. I didnt eat and didnt sleep. The day of his funeral finally came: Tuesday.

          It still seemed as if this was all some huge, elaborate prank put on by my mom and dad. Nothing seemed right. But as tons of friends from my school began to show up, taking the day off from school just to be there for me, it started to sink in that my dad was in fact dead. I still held onto some kind of hope that my dad would spring out of the coffin at any time and scream, EARLY APRIL FOOLS! But that never happened. The day was a cliched stormy one. But Ill never forget as the priest said his final words to end the mass, the storm outside stopped for a brief second to shine sun in through the churchs windows. The sunlight cast an eerie glow on my fathers casket as the rectangle shape of the window was careful to form a border around the casket. And as quickly as the storm broke, it started up again. As the song, On Eagles Wings began, the funeral had completed. He was gone. He was really gone. It took a while to sink in, but things finally became clear when my mom had to sell our house cause she couldnt afford it anymore. This huge, gorgeous colonial was now gone and we moved into a condominium closer to Boston.

          It was here, in Stoneham, that I felt a huge obligation to fill this void in my life that was left by my fathers death. I began writing. My passion for it grew. First I started with poems. I then moved on to short stories. But soon, I was aiming my goals higher in the form of novels. I had started my first novel but I never had a chance to complete it when things changed once more.

          Wed only been in Stoneham for 2 years. A friend of mine had gotten this connection with an acting coach out in LA. He begged me to come out and visit him, so I did, and I ended up working with his acting coach for over a week. He loved me, got me a manager and my mom and I had moved out to LA in a little over a month. My acting coach knew my love for writing and suggested I write a screenplay. I had never thought to do that before, and I churned out my first feature length screenplay in 3 days. I was so focused and psyched that I didnt even noticed that it ended up being well over 120 pages, 134 to be exact. My coach loved the story, but since it was of course my first screenplay, there was a lot of work to be done.

          Almost 3 years later and my passion is all about the entertainment industry. I was made to be here. My acting is going full-steam ahead, with an agent representing me across the board, and my screenwriting as well: 10 feature scripts and 12 short scripts completed so far. I didnt say they were all good, but its gotten me to where I am today, which is a very hard-working and determined actor/writer who feels hes got everything to succeed in this industry. There are many other less fortunate people in this world with a dream quite like mine. I just hope that everyone will read this and pursue their dream until it becomes a reality because it can and it will happen if you want it bad enough.

This months writers retain the right of poetic license

Featured Essay of the Month

Student: Julia Lutka, 9th grade

I grew up in the adult world, and thus even at a young age I was always exposed to the reality of things. True enough I didn't have much of a real CHILDhood but I do pride myself on my way of looking at the world as the result of my upbringing. A huge part of seeing the world in all its pure and harsh reality (especially while most others my age are out partying and among all else still being children) is that I see things that can and should be changed. A perfect example of this would be my growing efforts to form a campaign against in-school harassment. This indeed is a cause that is very near and dear to me. However, these days adults see not the fact you have presented to them, nor the intelligence that you use to present them with, they see only the age of the presenter. At the moment those who aren't listening gives me time to build up my case, but to this issue I am creating an "army" of sorts to help get noticed age aside.

As of today I am a counselor. This you know. But not only am I working hard to make a difference in that aspect, but I am getting all of these kids. yes kids, many my age, some older and some younger to join me in this. If a mass of youths show up and hand those adults who seem to ignore this issue as well as us due to age the over powering evidence of what has been done to us and give them a well thought out plan, I hope that age will become irrelevant and our experience and evidence, and finally our intelligence will be what they see.

Featured Poet of the Month: Kaja Tigress Banas

A Friend

A friendship is like a song.

Flowing with a beat.

Jumping to a chorus.

Repeating in all the right spots.

A song tells a story.

A friendship builds the story to be sung.

A guitar is a friend.

A piano is a life.

A drum gives a beat.

A voice is a person.

A band puts it together.

Two friends build their lives.

Their lives are a story.

A story to be told, a story to be sung.

A song expresses feeling.

A friendship builds feelings.

A friendship is like a song.

Flowing with a beat.

Jumping to a chorus.

Repeating in all the right spots.

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A Dream on Earth by Heather

A landscape of cold snow,
Where vast greens once stood

Light of the moon pierces the night,
As stars dance in the heavenly light

Tonight birds fly across the fluffy clouds,
As white sail across the night blue sea

Black clouds bring a fall of water,
That gives birth that changes in to life

Winds of the north blow threw empty sand,
To the meadow were lions feast

Colors of life shine overhead,
As the light of day comes into view

So we dream on earths
Heavenly view

Entered By: Amber�Walker

12-21-2005

Joining Laurel Springs School was the best decision I ever made. This school gave me the academic challenges and flexible schedule for ballet that I just couldn’t get in a traditional school. I was able to expand my ballet training and reach levels I never knew I could reach. Laurel Springs has given me the confidence I need to succeed both academically and in ballet. I feel that I am ready to go do anything in the world, knowing I have a great education.

Andrea Joy Lucas