Tales of Warcraft - Chapter 5

Here is the fifth installment in Meghan's original story set in the Warcraft world. If you haven't read or don't remember the story so far, be sure to check out Chapter 1, Chapter 2,  Chapter 3. and Chapter 4. The story is told from the point of view of Salith, a female half-elf, half-troll rogue. 

 Meghan as Jay Warren in Clearwater's current steampunk LARP

Chapter 5

Deja Vu

Salith's eyelids fluttered and she groaned, lifting her head. An earsplitting headache had made its way into her skull and it was very distracting.

“Mordink” Said a voice to Salith's left. It sounded as if the person to whom the voice belonged had a very broken nose. Salith slowly turned her head towards the voice and, trying not to hurl, she spoke. “Morning...Who are you?”

Salith saw a small and frail-looking human. A tattered light-blue tunic and what looked like a wide variety of rags sewn together and loosely called pants, adorned her ragged figure. The human looked as if she had been thrown down a hole full of starving imps and left there for at least a day, then pulled up with a chain around her neck. Salith felt sorry for her, despite how Salith herself looked. The human took a little while to answer. She seemed to be looking Salith over, then finally, after a long pause, she replied, “Rowda.”

Salith inhaled deeply, still trying not to hurl. She nodded to the girl, “Salith. Nice to meet you, Rowda.” Rowda laughed, which segued into a large and lethal-sounding coughing fit. Having composed herself, she corrected Salith. “Do, R-o-w-n-a”

“Rowna?”

“Yes”

Salith assumed 'Do' was meant to be 'No'. She continued, “What happened to your nose?” Rowna shrugged “I was undonscious for most of it. I just dow it hurt, a lot.” It looked like it took a lot of effort for Rowna to talk, so Salith decided to leave her be for the moment.

She looked herself over. Salith was still wearing the prison clothes Ceradar's men had put on her--a simple brown shirt and pants, but the pants were shredded near her feet and the left sleeve of her shirt had been torn off completely. With a pang, Salith remembered that she had left Delaralas and Varawien to fend off all of those men by themselves. She surprised herself with how much she cared about the two that she hardly knew. A ferocious sneeze coupled with a sick splattering noise from Rowna's direction made Salith finally throw up. She spat on the floor repeatedly, disgusted.

Worgen

The clattering of chains and bizarrely familier shuffling footsteps made Salith look up, and there before her was the undead she had seen talking to the mysterious worgen lady--and, to Salith's horrified surprise, Varawien.

“Vara!” Salith cried, remembering too late as she tried to pull towards her friend, that her bindings were rigged to cause her horrible pain if she moved. The undead laughed cruelly as Salith dropped her head, barely holding back a scream and fighting tenaciously to stay conscious. She had fainted too many times recently to do so again.

Varawien looked dead. She was pale and broken-looking, wearing nothing more than Salith herself. Various torture scars were showing on her bare arms, some even still dripping blood. Salith stared straight into Varawien's dull eyes and felt her spirits plummet.

She asked quietly, “Delaralas...?”

Varawien looked away. “Dead.”

Tales of Warcraft - Chapter 4

Meghan

Here is the fourth installment in Meghan's original story set in the Warcraft world. If you haven't read or don't remember the story so far, be sure to check out Chapter 1, Chapter 2 and Chapter 3. The story is told from the point of view of Salith, a female half-elf, half-troll rogue. 

Chapter 4

Traveling

They were back on the road. Varawien had decided to join them on their 'quest', as she called it. She was astride a great black steed with white socks and a white diamond-shape on his forehead, whom she called Topaz .

Y'know, I don't think she believed a word you said!” Varawien laughed.

After a small silence in which the birds sang and the wind gently rustled the leaves on the trees, she continued.

“But it would have looked too suspicious if she hadn't let us go--with the innkeeper watching and all.”

Salith stayed silent, watching a hawk flying lazily overhead.

“It was still a bit of a close shave. However did you come up with all that?” Delaralas asked, riding up so that Drake and Topaz were neck and neck.

Salith shrugged.

“Not all of it was made up. Erilikoth is real, so is Alin'kah, and the Emerald Grove is a myth,” she said, still watching the hawk.

“Not all myths are legend,” Delaralas said, sounding rather mysterious.

Salith slowed Bandit to a walk.

“What do you mean?” she asked, bewildered.

“I mean, some say dragons are only of legend, but they are blinded by their own limits. If they opened their eyes, they would see that--”

Tales of Warcraft - Chapter 3

Those of you who have been following Meghan's original story set in the Warcraft world are long overdue for the third installment. If you haven't read or don't remember the story so far, be sure to check out Chapter 1 and Chapter 2.  If you'd like to re-read the first chapter, click on the link above, then enjoy Chapter 3, below. The story is told from the point of view of Salith, a female half-elf, half-troll rogue. 

Tales of Warcraft

Chapter 3
Stormy escape

Salith awoke to the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance. She got to her feet and looked out of her cage at the sky where clouds so gray they were almost black gathered on the horizon.

“A storm is brewing,” she said, grasping the two nearest bars and gazing out at the darkening sky.
“Indeed.” A cool voice came from behind her.
Startled, Salith whipped around and bared her teeth.
“Who are you?” she demanded as thunder rolled once more.
“I am known as Delaralas(1),” the stranger replied.

He wore a long emerald cloak and leather garments, half-concealed by the cloak. As he pulled down his hood Salith realized he was an elf, with long purple-ish ears and markings painted across his face.
“What are you doing here?” Salith’s accent faded and she hid her tusks.
“I am here to rescue you. Don’t bother hiding them, I know what you are,” he said.
She scowled and showed her teeth, eyes flashing.
“Why would you come to rescue me? You’re an elf of high-birth and I’m nothing but a lowly half-breed. I don ‘t get it.”
Delaralas shook his head and exhaled softly.“Heh. Neither do I, my friend, neither do I.”
Salith spat contemptuously while lightning flashed behind her.
“Anything but, elf!”

Delaralas actually laughed, echoed by thunder, closer now than before.
“Come now, you don’t want to be stuck in here when that storm hits, now do you? Grab my hand and we’ll get out of here,” he said, sticking out his hand and stuffing the other into his robe.
"I’ll have to trust him…" Salith thought.
She grabbed his hand and just as their palms touched, the storm broke.

Aidan's New Blog

Aidan, who is 12 and has attended Clearwater for 6 years, recently started a blog called The Rest of the Iceberg. He describes the focus of the blog this way: "Whatever happened to the rest of the iceberg? Underneath the tip of it you'll find bite-sized short stories, rambling rants, inner thoughts and strange musings."

He'd thought about starting a blog for a little while. One night when he couldn't sleep, he decided to go online and see if he could set one up on his own. Voila!--The Rest of the Iceberg. He sometimes has insomnia and discovered that writing down what's in his head helps quiet his mind. 

Aidan's first post is a short story called, "Cogs and the Lack Thereof", which takes place in a dystopian future and is a delightful commentary on creativity and its ability to change the world. Another post, "Creative Evolution", features a character he created while playing World of Warcraft. He describes that story as "the first thing i ever wrote, unedited complete with no punctuation and general painful-to-read-y-ness."

With Aidan's characteristic gutsy-ness, he publishes it raw in the blog. Later in the same post he reveals what happened to that first story after he spent six more months working on it. In my interview with him, he quoted Oscar Wilde, "Books are never finished, they are merely abandoned." Although, he doesn't enjoy re-reading his past work, he recognizes that he is always learning more about writing by doing it.

When Aidan began writing, he read several writing blogs to get other writers' advice on the craft of writing. He said he waits for inspiration to strike and like many writers feels like he knows his characters personally.

He admires Neil Gaiman, Lemony Snickett, Jasper Fford (Shades of Grey, One of Our Thursdays Is Missing) and Robert Kirkman (writer of  the comic series The Walking Dead and Invincible).

Aidan incorporates links to music in some of his stories. So far he has written two posts featuring Victor Jerami, the titular unorthodox demon hunter, who slays demons by playing rock music. Each post has links to specific songs used to dispatch the monsters. One of Aidan's inspirations is the Joss Whedon TV series, Buffy, the Vampire Slayer. The title character of that series is not-so-subtly alluded to in the second Victor Jerami post, "Unarmed and Unplugged."

He does not have a posting schedule for himself and warns there may be long dry spells, but also times when he posts several entries at once.

At this point in his life, he is interested in becoming a career writer of fantasy and science fiction novels.

Aidan's mom, Alicia, announced his blog on her Liberating Kids facebook page and noted, "He was never formally taught to read or write." Aidan told me he started learning to read when he was three or four. He used some reading software initially, and reads a lot. He taught himself typing by using the online chat function while playing World of Warcraft.

I look forward to reading more of Aidan's writing.

Cosmos: The Graphic Novel

Samadhi has been a student at Clearwater for 9 years--he enrolled when he was four and is now almost 14 years old. He has been drawing since he was six and began making comics two or three years ago.

This year he started writing and illustrating a science fiction graphic novel series titled Cosmos. He has completed 16 pages in the first of seven planned books in the series. Book one is subtitled "Sol System", and will be around 200 pages long. He is using Adobe Photoshop to color the comic.

Samadhi has another comic series in mind, also science fiction. He maintains he cannot make a comic series without outer space in it. He explained that the humor in his comic is inspired by Douglas Adams' The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, which combined sci-fi and comedy so well.

Many graphic novels fill Samadhi's shelves at home. Some of his favorites are Bone, Usagi Yojimbo, Amulet, Missile Mouse and Lackadaisy. He admires the last one because it is well drawn and combines comedy and drama.

Without further ado, here is Cosmos. Many pages are followed by Samadhi's comments. Click on each image to enlarge for reading.

Comic Prologue page 001

Comic Prologue page 002

Page 003 Shipslicer!

(click to embiggen)

Page 004 The Vanishing...

(click to embiggen)

And, now The Title Page!

(Click to embiggen and discover the name of this Opus)

And The first page of the actual comic!

(Click to check out those awesome night time effects close up)

Page 007 (Sodalicious!)

Page 008 (Suddenly, better shading! Wow!)

Page 009 (Lamps with eyes are the best kind of lamps. I’d totally buy that lamp.) 

Page 010 (Oh wait no that’s no lamp. Shocking twist. What is even this guy’s deal with these lamps.)

Page 011 (PLOT!! That’s a sound effect that needs to be used in comics more often.)

Page 012 (Shocking twist #2. Man Lekku what is even up with your mane in that last panel. Brush strokes eternal.)

Page 013 (Motion blur always. I have to draw those couches so many times i will just drop a spaceship on one, which just actually happened. Oh wait now it’s harder to draw. Dang)

Page 014 (See, when you cut something with a sword that looks like a peeled banana it clearly can’t be fixed. This is what happens in my world.)

How many couches CAN I destroy???????? Next on Cosmos!

Samadhi's comic was first published on his mother Roseanne's blog, Breaking Sod, in three installments: one, two and three. 

End of post.

Tales of Warcraft, Chapter 2

Last month the first chapter of Meghan's original story set in the Warcraft world appeared on this blog. She has written five chapters so far. If you'd like to re-read the first chapter, click on the link above, then enjoy Chapter 2, below. The story is told from the point of view of Salith, a female half-elf, half-troll rogue.

Tales of Warcraft
Chapter 2
A Terrible Reunion

Salith’s consciousness returned only when she was shoved roughly up against a stone wall and was surprised to find her hood intact and upon her head. “And so we meet again, my slippery little friend!” said a cold voice from above her. Salith opened her eyes. Before her were the shin-high boots of a human she had met only once before and she did not plan on repeating the encounter, though she felt this would be entirely different.

Salith discovered there were at least two more armored humans behind her; one of them took hold of her tattered hood and ripped it off her cloak entirely, revealing red-orange dreadlocks that fell just past her shoulders and a face much less like what the human’s thought she was. Her face was bluish with a tint of lavender and her eyes were glowing orbs, a ghostly ivory.


The human before her reached out a gloved hand and took hold of her dreadlocks. Not wishing to have her hair pulled out, Salith was forced to look up into the face of the human she had dreaded ever meeting again.
“Where be dah true king!?” she demanded, and the man tightened his grip on her dreadlocks.
“I am the king, Half-breed!”
Salith bared her yellowish teeth. “You are no king!”

Before she knew what was happening, the man had let go of her dreadlocks and waved his hand to the man to her left, who took hold of her arm and wrenched. Salith screamed and fell to the floor; she lay face down, her arm sticking out at a weird angle. She bit her lip so hard to keep from whimpering it bled.

The man who claimed to be king knelt down and took hold of her dreadlocks once more, pulling her head up so that she had to look him in the face. “I am the rightful king. Question my rule again and the pain will be much, much worse” he whispered. His voice was cold as ice and his eyes burned with blue flame. Salith bared her teeth, but didn’t have the strength to retaliate, nor did she want more pain; she was almost overwhelmed by it already. “Remember Cerader*,” was the last thing Salith heard.

Thump thump thump. What was that sound? She didn’t care. Why was the ground swaying? She didn’t know. Salith opened her eyes to find a metal roof above her head and bars all around and discovered the sound was her heartbeat. Sitting up slowly she looked around. She was in a hanging cage attached to the side of the main castle of the city of Dunatar. Below was a large courtyard filled with bustling villagers. A fountain sat in the middle of the busy courtyard, the water sparkling with coins that had been tossed in.

A group of young villagers stood beneath her cage, glaring up at her and occasionally throwing small rocks up at her.
“Demonspawn!” one of them called, a tall man clad in leather garments.
“Half-breed!” called another, a shorter man in violet robes.
“Lay off guys!” cried a young women wearing a dress with a white top and blue bottom. reaching out to put a hand on the leather-clad man’s shoulder.
He turned and pushed her roughly aside. “C’mon, let’s leave it to rot.”

Salith wasn’t stung at all by any of the insults, for all of them she had heard many a time before. Instead she turned her attention to the rising sun which turned the clouds pink and showered the surrounding forest with golden rays of light. Salith sighed, rubbing her broken arm gingerly. "What does Cerader want with me?" she wondered, shuddering at his name. It seemed as if it had been burned into her memory. Her mind whirled and her arm throbbed. "If I survive this, it’ll be a miracle," Salith thought miserably. She lay on her back and stared up at the roof of her prison and soon blackness consumed her.

*Pronunciation guide: Cerader (Seer-a-dar)

End of post.

Tales of Warcraft

Meghan, who is 12 years old, started attending Clearwater seven years ago. In a recent interview, Meghan said, “My favorite, favorite thing about Clearwater is doing whatever you want, whenever you want.” This year, she is learning to play the guitar with the expert assitance of staff member and musician, Matt Garrity. She loves the grounds and the creek, because there are places to mull things over. She is also in love with fantasy and made-up worlds and at Clearwater is able to explore the never-ending facets of that passion, including creating unique experiences and stories based on it. In recent years she has read Warriors, a children's book series that focuses on four clans of wild cats in their forest homes and the Harry Potter book series, among others.

She and her friends have spent a lot of time at school role playing in worlds they create based on fantasy books and World of Warcraft, a massively multiplayer online role-playing game (MMORPG). (Commonly referred to as WoW, the game has over 12 million subscribers around the globe making it the world's most-subscribed online game. The fantasy world of WoW is vast and owes much of its inspiration to the fantasy worlds of J.R.R. Tolkein.)

Another of Meghan's favorite activities is writing. She keeps a running file of ideas to develop into stories, and has written five chapters of a story based on WoW. The idea came to her when she was between waking and sleeping. She made up an area in the Warcraft world called Emerald Forest.


Her story starts with a character that is half elf, half troll--a rogue.

She is excited to publish her story, as it exists so far, in installments on this blog. The first chapter and installment begins below.

[One of the challenges for a new writer is learning how to use punctuation to make a story more clear to the reader. Meghan and I worked on punctuation edits to the story. She wrote the entire text with no editing from anyone but herself. Meghan requested that the version of her story with her original punctuation be included for those who want to experience it as she did, flowing out unedited. You will find that version below the punctuation-edited version.]

Tales of Warcraft
Chapter 1
Assassination and Capture


It was dusk. Clouds floated lazily across the red-orange sky and the Horde encampment Ren'kal stood menacing, framed by the flaming sunset. A hunched figure, draped in a dusty brown cloak, stood at the entrance to the encampment and watched as a guard paced up and down in front of the gates. Long bluish-green ears poked out of the top of the creature's hood and tusks the color of sand protruded from under it. It took a moment, but the guard paused in his pacing and looked up, noticing the strange figure watching him. The guard tramped up to the strange figure. The guard was a large, slightly hunch-backed creature with emerald skin and glaring hazel eyes. His ears were pointed; he also had tusks, though not even half the size of the ones of the strange trespasser.


"What is your business here?" the guard demanded, pointing his spear at the throat of the stranger.
"I be here tah speak tah Kesh," said the stranger.
The guard grunted. "And what makes you think you can just waltz right into Ren'kal and talk to Kesh, eh?"

Swift as the wind, the stranger had straightened up and put a dagger to the guard's throat.
"Take me tah Kesh, now," the stranger growled.
The guard froze. "You wouldn't!"
The trespasser laughed. "Oh, trust meh, I would."
The guard's breathing quickened. "O-okay....this way."

The stranger withdrew the dagger from the guard's throat and melted back into the shadows. The guard ventured forward into the camp, made his way towards the largest building in the encampment and went inside. He climbed a flight of stairs before coming to a door.

"Open it," hissed the trespasser from the shadows, surprising the guard, who knocked. Hearing a voice call, "Come," the trespasser entered. It was a high-ceilinged room with a large tapestry along one wall showing The Sundering of the World. As the door shut with a thud, a voice greeted the stranger.

"Lok'tar, Salith*."
Salith let her cloak fall from her shoulders as she drew out her daggers. She walked up to the chair where Kesh sat with his back to her.
"Goodbye, Kesh."

Crash! The walls of the building shook as another Alliance catapult launched a boulder into Ren'kal. . As soon as word of Kesh's death had reached the Alliance--how it had, no one knew--it had immediately ordered an attack on the now leaderless encampment. "Gryphons!" someone screeched as Kesh's assassin fled the now-collapsing building. "Stop right there, Assassin!" It was the guard who had escorted her. Salith laughed, grinning beneath her hood. "What are yeh goin' ter do, orc? Sit on meh?"

The guard charged, spear outstretched. Just as she had done before, Salith swiftly pulled out her daggers, but this time she didn't hesitate. The blades cut into the guard's neck and he fell to the ground. Salith whipped around and raced towards the ruined gates as flaming arrows rained down. She held on tightly to her hood as she raced away from the burning ruins of what once was Ren’kal.

Deep in the Emerald Forest, Salith ran. She ran as fast as her long legs would allow. She could hear the thundering of hooves and knew she was being followed--by who, she didn’t know, nor did she care at the moment. All she wanted to do was get as far away from Ren’kal as possible. The hoof beats got louder and Salith’s heart quickened.


“HALT!”
Salith fell back onto the ground as a great black steed pulled up and reared. Its hooves landed at her feet and the human astride the steed looked down at her, almost mockingly.

“Well well well, what do we have here?”
Another human rode up beside the first, astride a beautiful white mare.
“I believe it’s a Troll, sir,” said the rider, who appeared to be female.
“I know that!” spat the first rider, who Salith guessed was the leader.
More troops surrounded her, this time on foot, and the leader jumped off his horse.
“Wh-“ Salith began, but the human silenced her with a sharp kick in the side.
“Quiet, Troll!” the man spat.

Salith looked up at the human; blood dripped from the corner of her mouth as she grinned up at the human.
“What are you grinning about, beast!?”
Salith spat blood into his face.“I be wonderin’ where yeh got such an ugly face.”
One of the footman spoke. “Umm, Ronik, Sir, the King asked we bring the Half-breed back… alive, Sir.”
The man called Ronik straightened up and glared at the footman.
“I am aware of the King's orders, Skinth! Now you are going to shut your trap and lis-“
Ronik whipped around and stared down at Salith.
“It's laughing!” Skinth cried.

Ronik leapt down and bound the cackling Salith’s hands and legs. Finally he stuffed a cloth into her mouth and tied her to his saddle. Mounting his steed he called three sharp commands to his men and began to ride off. Salith’s head hit the ground and she blacked out.

*Pronunciation note: Sal'-ith

[Meghan's original version without editing]

Chapter 1
Assassination and Capture:

It was dusk. Clouds floated lazily across the red-orange sky and the Horde encampment Ren'kal stood menacing, framed by the flaming sunset. A hunched figure stood at the entrance to the encampment, Draped in a dusty brown cloak, Watching as a guard paced up and down in front of the gates, long bluish-green ears poked out of the top of the creature's hood and tusks the color of sand protruded from under it, it took a moment but the guard paused in his pacing and looked up, noticing the strange figure watching him, the guard tramped up to the strange figure. He was a large, slightly hunch-backed creature with emerald skin and glaring hazel eyes, his ears were pointed, he also had tusks, though not even half the size of the one's of the strange trespasser "What is your business here?" The guard demanded, pointing his spear at the throat of the stranger "I be here tah speak tah Kesh" Said the stranger, the guard grunted "And what makes you think you can just waltz right into Ren'kal and talk to Kesh, Eh?" swift as the wind, the stranger had straightened up and put a dagger to the guards throat "Take me tah Kesh, Now" the stranger growled, The guard froze "You wouldn't!" the trespasser laughed "oh, trust meh, I would" the guard's breathing quickened "o-okay....this way" The stranger withdrew the dagger from the guards throat and melted back into the shadows, the guard ventured forward into the camp, he made his way towards the largest building in the encampment and went inside, he climbed a flight of stairs before coming to a door "Open it" hissed the trespasser from the shadows, surprising the guard, who knocked, hearing a voice call "Come" the trespasser entered. It was a high-ceilinged room with a large tapestry along one wall, showing The Sundering of the World. As the door shut with a thud, a voice greeted the stranger "Lok'tar, Salith" Salith let her cloak fall from her shoulders as she drew out her daggers, She walked up to the chair where Kesh sat with his back to her "Goodbye, Kesh"

Crash! The walls of the building shook as another Alliance catapult launched a boulder into Ren'kal. The Alliance, As soon as word of Kesh's death had reached them- How it had, no one knew -had immediately ordered an attack on the now leaderless encampment "Gryphons!" Someone screeched as Kesh's assassin fled the now-collapsing building "Stop right there, Assassin!" It was the guard who had escorted her, Salith laughed, grinning beneath her hood "What are yeh goin' ter do, orc? Sit on meh?" The guard charged, Spear outstretched, and just as she had done before, Salith swiftly pulled out her daggers, but this time she didn't hesitate, the blades cut into the guards neck and he fell to the ground, Salith whipped around and raced towards the ruined gates as flaming arrows rained down, She held on tightly to her hood as she raced away from the burning ruins of what once was Ren’kal

Deep in the Emerald Forest, Salith ran, She ran as fast as her long legs would allow, She could hear the thundering of hooves and knew she was being followed- by who, she didn’t know, nor did she care at the moment, all she wanted to do was get as far away from Ren’kal as possible, the hoof beats got louder and Salith’s heart quickened “HALT!” Salith fell back onto the ground as a great black steed pulled up and reared, its hooves landed at her feet and the human astride the steed looked down at her, almost mockingly “Well well well, What do we have here?” another human rode up beside the first, astride a beautiful white mare “I believe it’s a Troll, sir” Said the rider, who appeared to be female “I know that!” Spat the first rider, who Salith guessed was the leader, more troops surrounded her, this time on foot and the leader jumped off his horse “Wh-“ Salith began, but the human silenced her with a sharp kick in the side “Quiet, Troll!” the man spat, Salith looked up at the human, blood dripped from the corner of her mouth as she grinned up at the human “What are you grinning about, beast!?” Salith spat blood into his face “I be wonderin’ Where yeh got such an ugly face” one of the footman spoke “umm, Ronik, Sir, The King asked we bring the Half-breed back… alive, Sir” The man called Ronik straightened up and glared at the footman “I am aware of the kings orders, Skinth! Now you are going to shut your trap and lis-“ Ronik whipped around and stared down at Salith “its laughing!” Skinth cried. Ronik leapt down and bound the cackling Salith’s hands and legs, Finally he stuffed a cloth into her mouth and tied her to his saddle. Mounting his steed he called three sharp commands to his men and began to ride off, Salith’s head hit the ground and she blacked out.

End of post.

A Poet Strikes Again

Just a few days ago, this blog published some song lyrics written by Mara. As I copied down the lyrics on the bus ride home from school, several students on the bus were curious about Mara's song and asked to hear the lyrics. I always enjoy how tuned in students are to each other's creativity.

One of those students was reminded of some poetry he composed recently, and asked me to copy it down and reproduce it here for your reading pleasure. You may remember that in November, this blog also published a poem by Arlo about Clearwater's new rain garden.


Herewith are three more poetry compositions by Arlo.

Goodbye

"Goodbye," she said, as she passed away
I did not hear what she did not say
But the rhythm definitely gave it away
She obviously sent a bidding.

Stupid Forest

The stupid forest is an awesome place.
You'll go through it once and you'll leave no trace.
You'll come back through again and you'll say,
"Hooray for today, 'cause I am smart again."

Hollywood Man

He's a Hollywood man
He puts signs on his door step
He's a jolly good man
He makes friends on every corner
He's a jolly good man so everyone's a fan
He's a jolly good, Hollywood man that's tan

End of post.

Ya Gotta Follow Your Dreams

Since Clearwater's beginnings in 1996, we've always had a substantial number of word connoisseurs--people who love playing with words by writing stories, music lyrics, plays on words and studying the origins, nuances and cadence of words. Eight-year-old Mara is a prolific rhymer and song writer. She loves putting together rhythms and unusual rhymes on the fly and comes up with some lovely and fascinating combinations. As she spins delightful phrases, she analyzes which ones make logical sense and relishes the ones that are simply fun to listen to and say.

Here's a song she wrote recently and brought to school, although it is not one of her rhyming compositions. The tune exists in her head and is not yet available in musical notation.

Ya gotta follow your dreams.
Ya gotta do it no matter what.
Even if it's a long shot there.
Ya truly gotta follow it to your dreams.

And This is how you do it.
You can wish upon a shooting star.
But no matter what, you gotta
Work for it.

And this is how I know.
I once wished upon a shooting star.
But I had to work the rest of
the way there.

End of post.

Rain Garden Poetry

Last week, a ten-year-old Clearwater student composed a poem about Clearwater's new rain garden.

Without further ado, here's his poem.

The Swale
by Arlo

We have a swale on the side of our school.
Water runs in it and people run on it.
I think it’s cool and so do my friends
So we’ve managed to not hurt it—-not a dent.
Not a hit
Not a smack
Not a slap
Not a bang.
So I think it’s cool and so do my friends
So this is where my poem ends.

Arlo and the rain garden

End of post.

Diploma Presentations

This is The Clearwater School's 13th year, which means that those students who started at age five are now graduating. Fittingly, our graduating class this year is the largest ever. So far, four of six aspiring graduates have completed their diploma presentations. Each event has been so different from the one before--and I know that the next two will also be unique.

This past Saturday, I watched Ian Freeman-Lee present his paper and demonstrate his skill at writing, design, art, and production. He showed us a preview of a video game he is creating in collaboration with another student. As I listened to Ian's informative and entertaining talk, I was impressed by so many things--his timing, his humor, his accomplishment, and his confidence.

Code for Ian's computer game. Prototypes & rules for related card game

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With a now familiar sense of awe, I was also impressed with Claire, Betsy and Gabe in their presentations this year, and the graduation presentations of all the students who have gone before. It is always moving to see children grow into themselves, and graduation from high school is a very moving transition.

Clearwater's graduation presentations provide a very public reflection of the process of growing up--as experienced by one individual. I continue to learn from the graduates how being at Clearwater can be a completely different experience for each student.

Samples of Ian's art portfolio

Each Diploma presentation includes a question and answer section. As I listened to the questions asked on Saturday, I was reminded of how grateful I feel for these presentations, for what they give to me and the rest of our community.

Audience at Ian's diploma presentation

The dialogue between the Clearwater community and the graduates is a wonderful exchange of curiosity, admiration, caring and connection. The questions are often specific to the presenting student, but the issues raised speak to larger philosophical issues about what it means to gain an education and take on the responsibilities of being an adult in our culture.

Those of us who attend the presentations this year get to learn about students' passions that range from hula to visual art to jazz guitar, from poi spinning to computer gaming. We get to hear how students master the academic tasks of reading and writing, become better at communicating, push themselves to be more outgoing or more focused, and most centrally, how they get to deeply know and fully be themselves. It is a highlight of my year to celebrate our students' accomplishments, and thank them for what they have given to us personally and as a community.

Some former, current and future Clearwater graduates

Parent Letter to the Editor Published in Seattle Times

Kudos and heartfelt thanks to Clearwater parent and Assembly President Amanda Klein for responding to a Seattle Times column this week.

On Monday, March 9, Seattle Times columnist Jerry Large recorded his thoughts about a recent presentation by education gadfly, Alfie Kohn. The Kohn presentation and Large column questioned the efficacy of school homework.

Amanda wrote a letter to the editor, as well as an email to Jerry Large, in which she explained her and her son's experience of Clearwater. Read her excellent letter, "Choosing real life over imposed homework", which was published yesterday.

Large reported that parents' answers to Kohn's question about their long-term goals for their children included: Be a mensch, happy, independent, curious, self-motivated, passionate, inner wildness, compassionate, self-reliant, engaged, financially independent, lifelong learner, comfortable, confident. These are just some of the qualities that Clearwater and other Sudbury school students manifest throughout their school years and into adulthood. They develop and strengthen these qualities without prescribed curricula, homework, tests or grades.

Random Notes from Beginning of School year

• Ivy (8) and Maddy (9) are in the house reading the dialogue to a game on Ivy's Nintendo DS. I remember how last year the two of them were so interested in forming reading classes, some of which I taught. Today, they read on and I walk on by.
  


• James (17) just threw a touchdown pass to Gregory (11). Celebration! Today it's four on four in the parking lot.
  


• I lob a long pass to Nici (7) and hold my breath as he runs toward it...he looks back, stretches out his hands as far as they can reach and YES, he pulls it in while running full stride! He turns to look back at me with a huge grin on his face. Celebration!
  


• Nici, Gabe (9), and Kevin (7) are in the parking lot practicing football plays. It's amazing how fast they have improved in less than a week. On Monday, they barely knew the rules; now they organize their own games, make plays, and practice fundamentals.
  


• Lily (8) and Verity (5) just left me at the recently formed "Club Camp." I am in communication with them via walkie talkie while they do a school patrol. Club Camp is a very cool place. There is a sleeping area and a nice big rock is used for putting out food to share. Club Camp is situated under a tree near the parking lot and has been a major hub of activity over the last four days. The tree and its surroundings have been carefully decorated with flowers, woven grasses.
  


• Arlo (9) just got back from a trip to Greece, so I asked him how it was and what he did. "I hung out at the beach in Crete for a week," he said. "It was a nine-hour ferry to get there! In the morning we would hang out for awhile in the room because it was really big. Then we would go to the beach." He said the waves were medium small and were perfect for swimming. He and his family spent three days in Athens and a night in Santorini. He told me a few more things and then we were interrupted; he was dragged off to a game.
  


• Lily is reading a book to Max. Lily is learning to read, Max reads very well. They laugh at the Dr. Seuss brilliance. When Lily doesn't know a word she points at it and Max readily jumps right in.
  


• The football games continue to improve. We get in the bus, drive to the nice fields. When we get there we carefully mark the boundary with cones and warm up with some drills. We pick teams and play. It's so cool to see the older kids help the younger kids play. Even though the games are competitive, everyone is included. There are arguments, there are fights and intensity. We work things out, sometimes we are still working it out on the bus drive back to school....
  


• Stuck in traffic on the bus ride home. I hear Gabriel (10) imitating Joseph Biden's V.P. debate performance. He is making fun of how Biden kept saying Bush's name. This leads to a discussion of Palin. No one likes her.
  


• Delayney (13) playing piano while Sage (8) and I lie on the floor with our eyes closed and listen. I notice Delayney is using the sustain pedal to wonderful effect. She has little or no formal training but spends a lot of time experimenting. I mean, she really plays a lot. And it sounds good. Now she is talking of taking some formal lessons.
  


• Robert (14), Gabe (18) and I have started a morning exercise plan. Everyday for the last week and a half we have met first thing and practiced a routine. It's a great way to start the day.
  


• Michelle (13) let me read the first two chapters of the novel she is writing. It reminds me of Tom Robbins. She doesn't know who that is. Seriously, she is an amazing writer.