"This I Believe: A Ride to Remember" by Patrick V

This December, Advanced Composition students studied, wrote, and recorded audio essays. Students wrote and recorded their own "This I Believe" essays inspired by the weekly This I Believe Podcast. While we're publishing the text of each essay below, we strongly encourage you to listen to each student's audio essay for a more intimate experience.

It was a hot summer afternoon, and my coach had just told us to start warming up. It was a sweaty day, but it didn’t bother me. I knew what I needed to do. I knew that in my heart I took the necessary steps toward making it as far as we did: the district tournament. It was all simply just another game. The game had never changed, but I did.

My dad told me, “I love you, and I'm so proud of what you have accomplished, now go have fun." My dad came to all of my games and whether we won or lost, he would talk baseball to me the whole car ride home. Baseball was our bond, despite having to live a whole world away from my dad.

Baseball was never something I hated. It was something I knew I could be great at. I would practice baseball with my dad any free time I would get.It’s rough not having a dad around all the time. I will never forget the car ride home from that last district tournament and even though we lost and my hopes for a longer summer baseball season were crushed, that car ride home is something I will cherish forever, and with that, it taught me a life lesson I continue to implement to this day.

In that car ride home, my dad said to me, "Kid, that was a rough game and I'm sure you know that, what I want to tell you is that, you gave it your all, you put best foot forward and came up short. But, you practiced hard and you took care of what you needed to, and you did your part, and there is no shame in that, your character is how you hold yourself at this moment, right here, and right now. All I know, is you sure played one heck of a game kid." I was pretty distraught from that game and I was not necessarily the happiest fellow. From that car ride with my dad, I learned perseverance. Being able to keep moving forward and grinding along, even when things get hard or tough. Even though I live without a dad and only get to see him on the weekends, have learned to persevere and keep moving forward in everything I do. This is what I believe in.

Mid-Year Statistics Report

Total Tutoring Sessions Completed by This Time in 2014: 493

Total Tutoring Sessions During the Entire 2013-2014 School Year: 830

Total Tutoring Sessions as of January 31, 2015: 607!!!

Things are buzzing in the HWC!

December 2014 Statistics

"This I Believe: A Different Kind of Genius" by Sofia

This December, Advanced Composition students studied, wrote, and recorded audio essays. Students wrote and recorded their own "This I Believe" essays inspired by the weekly This I Believe Podcast. While we're publishing the text of each essay below, we strongly encourage you to listen to each student's audio essay for a more intimate experience.

I used to take those multiple intelligence quizzes all the time. In school and out, I’d take them again and again and try to find new ones. I wanted to find out more about myself, yes, but what I really wanted was to get the answer I was looking for. There were mixed results. In many aspects, I’m entirely average. Mathematically and kinesthetically, I’m only okay. My logic skills are just good enough to get through tests. I’m a decent artist and a good writer, but I’d never consider myself a genius in my art. Natural intelligence and musical intelligence rank pretty low for me, and spatial intelligence isn’t even in question- I could get lost in my own neighborhood. It seemed to me that I didn’t have many strengths at all. 

I didn’t want to call myself stupid. Nobody does, of course. However, the truth of the matter is that, from a pessimistic point of view, we're all stupid. That's not to say that everyone is useless at math or gets all F's, because clearly that's not the case, we have engineers and physics professors. We've split the atom and received photos from Mars, but that says nothing about intelligence as a whole. I believe that intelligence has many forms, and that they should all be viewed as equally important.

Most people respect the intelligence and authority of those that know math and science, those that can learn anything from a book and get top grades. These people are generally the ones regarded as “smart” by society. They understand numbers and their intelligence can be measured by them- by scores on tests. What people don’t seem to realize is that even these people can lack in many aspects. Someone who does well in school may be terrible at socializing and reading peoples’ expressions, and may have no idea how to think in other ways. I thought that the only valuable intelligences, the ones I had to have, were mathematical and logical. I believed that the other intelligences didn’t really count. It took me years to recognize that this isn’t true. Joining different clubs and teams really helped me find out my strengths. I’m in many, but the most formative has been speech. Learning to use new skills has been an important part of my experience here. Making connections from kids’ tv shows and old poems to social inequality and human nature, and then conveying these connections to an audience are the two major elements of speech, and I’ve realized that that’s something I’m really naturally good at. 

Through all of this, I’ve learned that I’m not entirely hopeless- I do have some strengths, namely intra-personal and what’s called existential intelligence. I think best in the big picture, and I have the ability to understand myself and my own place in the world. I like asking big questions that I can’t answer entirely. The fact that I ranked high on these two strengths make sense to me- thinking in this way comes easily.

Different intelligences manifest themselves in different people. It’s time to stop thinking that the label smart is only applicable to a select few. In the words of Albert Einstein, “Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish on its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid.” Let’s treat more people like they’re geniuses.

"This I Believe: The Power of Running" by Lindsey

This December, Advanced Composition students studied, wrote, and recorded audio essays. Students wrote and recorded their own "This I Believe" essays inspired by the weekly This I Believe Podcast. While we're publishing the text of each essay below, we strongly encourage you to listen to each student's audio essay for a more intimate experience.

When I entered High School, I decided I wanted to participate in a fall sport, not so much for the athletic aspect of it, but for the team and people I would meet. I was switching school districts and didn’t know many people except for a select group of friends.  Because Field hockey, Dance Team, and Volleyball did not interest me, I decided the Cross Country team would be the best fit. Running was okay and there were no tryouts, so being cut was not an option.  I was not expecting much, as in years before I have never been very athletic.  During my first season of Cross Country, I learned I really enjoyed the sport, especially running through the woods during practice. It was something about getting places on your own two feet. A car or a bike didn’t help, it was just your legs and determination.  I did okay at my first season. I earned a varsity letter, but was not in the top seven or anything, but I was average and it was still better than I expected.

Then, in my first spring track season, it all changed. I remember my first race and how much I improved, surprising myself and my teammates. Back in the fall season, we had to do some timed miles, just to see what our paces were. I was never very good at them; my best time being around the seven minute mark. By a runner’s standard, this is practically walking. This was the first time I had run the 1600 in a race, so I was unsure of my pacing and how to run it. The 1600 is about a mile and four laps around the track. When going at a top speed, it can get pretty tiring. The mile is not a race a runner can sprint the entire time. Careful timing and speed is needed to get to the finish line in one piece. 

In my particular race, there was a pack of girls running together, none of us quite sure what we were doing, like chickens without heads. I was just trying to stay in pace with them, hoping they had a better idea of how the race was going. My main concern was I would use up all my energy in the first lap and not have enough energy to get through the other three. About halfway through the race, my coach started yelling from the sidelines, “I know you all aren’t the same speed”. I took that as my motivation to pick up the pace. I ended up pulling away from the pack and dropping forty seconds from my time; getting me a new personal record of six minutes and twenty seconds. After the race, one of the top senior varsity runners saw my race and told me I would go to districts that year. At first, I didn’t believe her, but I worked hard and ended up with a district spot and dropping more time than I ever thought possible.  

I believe people never know what they are capable of until they try. Before my race, I never knew I was capable of being a good athlete. Throughout my life, I hopped around from sport to sport, trying to get it right.  I was fairly slow at swimming and could never seemed to kick the ball in soccer. I was so close to giving up on sports. That one race boosted my confidence to try new things in other aspects of my life. I have explored new interests, such as signing up to be a tutor at the writing center and participating in National Novel Writing Month. With my new found confidence, I have tried these amazing opportunities and plan to continue expanding my horizons.

"This I Believe: The Benefits of Misery" by Leo

This December, Advanced Composition students studied, wrote, and recorded audio essays. Students wrote and recorded their own "This I Believe" essays inspired by the weekly This I Believe Podcast. While we're publishing the text of each essay below, we strongly encourage you to listen to each student's audio essay for a more intimate experience.

Growing up, we are taught that misery is a bad thing and that we should always try to avoid it. Our parents spend our childhood trying to shield us from the tragedies of life, keeping us happy and content.  However is misery all bad? Is it only a tragic aspect of life or can it be more than that? Can it, instead of hindering us, help us grow as individuals?

Ever since middle school, due to, let’s say, romantic situations, I have been miserable with my life. Now yes I know what you may be thinking. “Leo, it was only middle school. You were young and ignorant and didn’t know any better about what mattered and what didn’t. You’ll get over it.” See, that’s the thing. If it wasn’t such a big deal, then why did that experience impact my life so much and at such an intense level to the point where I’m writing a paper about it?

I was miserable. Now sure there were moments when life did seem to brighten up and make me forget my troubles but, inevitably, it would never last. Year after year, month after month, day after day, I would wake up every morning and feel the weight of my depression conquer my spirit. I only wanted to go to sleep and live in my dreams. It was the one place where I was truly happy. I did try to make myself better throughout those years, but my attempts never worked, at least not permanently. I just became miserable again. The misery got worse when it started to become physical. Instead of waking up with depression and sadness shadowing me, there was nothing. I ceased to feel any emotion and just became numb to the world and to myself. I didn’t want that, so I started to hurt myself. Whether it was ferociously punching whatever I could to the point where I couldn’t move my hand, or cutting myself repeatedly in the same spot until a permanent scar would form, these were just about the only things making me feel something. It got to the point where I was comfortable with the self inflicted pain. It even started to feel good because at the time, something felt better than nothing.

The worst came when I was contemplating suicide but, as you can tell, I didn’t.  Sure I could have killed myself and ended all the pain and mental suffering I was going through, but I had a personal belief that denied me the right and privilege to suicide. If it wasn’t for that belief I would have been dead a long time ago.

I had hit a mental rock bottom. Since I wasn’t allowed to take the easy path and end my suffering I had no choice but to deal with it and overcome it. Of course I didn’t do it in one big step. I had to take each day one by one.

I had survived the worst of it and because of that I started to learn what it’s like to go through those experiences. I understood feelings of depression, suicide, and self-harm. I started to recognize it in other people. I saw their depression, their pain, their misery. As a young teenager, without having experienced that pain, I would have never seen it in other people. I gained empathy towards those I knew had gone through the same things I had. I learned that someone with depression, someone who has had it for a long time like I did, has learned how to hide it and become actors to the world they live in. I learned that when we start having depression we easily show it to the world but as time goes on and it lingers inside us, we become reserved and start to hide it all because we don’t want to bother others with our suffering. I learned the difference between someone cutting on their wrist and on their arm. One wants to feel and one wants to let out a cry for help. I know this because I did the same things. Everything I endured, I learned how to see people in a different perspective.

Misery made me smarter than any book or lecture ever could have. Misery made me a better person. I believe that misery, and all the baggage that comes with it, can, if we survive, positively make us better people and show us a new perspective towards the people around us. I believe that it can mold our mindsight to have empathy for those in need just like us. I believe that misery can cast us outside the norm of society and give us the opportunity to observe the world that we live in. Misery does not only harm and hinder, misery, I believe, can help.

"This I Believe: Seals and Whales" by Martha

This December, Advanced Composition students studied, wrote, and recorded audio essays. Students wrote and recorded their own "This I Believe" essays inspired by the weekly This I Believe Podcast. While we're publishing the text of each essay below, we strongly encourage you to listen to each student's audio essay for a more intimate experience.

The first real cry I remember was while watching a documentary about Killer whales.The title, “Killer Whales: deadly predators” did little to clue my 7 year old self on what the show was actually about. My eyes began to water in sync to the whale's deadly dance through the dark waters of the ocean and my childish sobs were uncontrollable as three massive whales surrounded a seal that paced helplessly over the surface of a floating piece of ice. I sobbed for a while, asking my father why this had to happen, asking him what the seal's family would ever do without him, how would they recover? Did he have kids?

My father watched the waterworks from his spot on his recliner, curious and annoyed and for the first time I can remember, (and I reckon, the last time since then) he was speechless. He had no clue, really no idea as to why I was crying over a Discovery Channel special on whales and I really didn't either.

It's always been hard to put into words, this idea that I believe in, in a way that makes me think that maybe there are no words that I can string together to do it justice, but I believe in it just the same. It's that feeling I get when Simon crushes someone's dreams on American Idol, like a churning in my gut that makes me cringe and reach for the remote while trying to avoid looking at the heartbroken person's face, feeling as though the big fat no has actually been directed at me. It's that smile on my face that sometimes unconsciously spreads over my cheeks when the guy finally gets the girl, even if it's just a cheesy ABC family movie with awkward lines and impossible situations. It's like a love, unconventional and inconvenient at times that connects me with people and situations and sometimes seals.

It's a connection, an ability to relate, an understanding, a delight for the honesty of situations that are not my own. It's love and pain and fear and happiness that courses through me as it courses through someone else or through the surface of a screen. It's a different side of life that I experience through this attachment and fondness that I find impossible to ignore and impossible to describe. I believe in this, though, completely and unyielding. I believe in this kind of love for people and situations that makes it so easy to relate, that makes it possible to feel another person completely, almost touch them through our shared ability to evoke emotion, to feel tears running down our skin or disappointment churning in the pit of our stomach. I believe in this, I believe in it's value when it comes to appreciating my life. I believe that it makes me who I am.

"This I Believe: The Best Choice" by Smiles

This December, Advanced Composition students studied, wrote, and recorded audio essays. Students wrote and recorded their own "This I Believe" essays inspired by the weekly This I Believe Podcast. While we're publishing the text of each essay below, we strongly encourage you to listen to each student's audio essay for a more intimate experience.

I believe that many of the choices we make in life are not our own. If we could choose everything in life, we would all have jobs in fields we enjoy; we would spend most of our time with the people we love; there wouldn’t be so much anger about little things like no milk left for coffee or a bus that is seven minutes late. There is one thing, however, that I believe we can choose in life, and it’s happiness.

God’s greatest gift to me was happiness, especially the ability to share it with everyone around me. Where ever I am, I try to make smiles infectious and giggles spread faster than the flu. It’s an epidemic, and I’m patient zero.

I believe happiness is something that is essential to life. To me, it’s right up there with food and water. Happiness is who I am.  Happiness is me. This happiness translates into many different parts of my life. It allows me to be successful at my new job. It helps me make instant friends. Most importantly, it helps me grow in my faith. Happiness is so essential to being a Methodist. Our main idea is that we love everybody, because God made them, and He made us just to love them. It’s hard to love someone if you are angry. It’s hard to love someone who wronged you. It’s hard to love someone who will never love you. But I try to. And I hope that eventually, this will lead to both their happiness and mine.

Happiness is an everyday thing.  Happiness is the little random acts of kindness people do for each other.  It’s a choice to make other people happy, to love them. It may be an even bigger choice to let others make you happy. Just a smile or a wave can make someone’s day, if they allow it and if you allow it.  And if you do allow it, you choose happiness. And I believe that anyone can choose happiness.  

I know that some people suffer from diseases that make it hard to be happy.  Depression. Anxiety. But even those people can find a way to smile again. It takes work, yes. It takes forgiveness. It takes practice and patience. But in the end, happiness is worth it, and it’s there if you want it.

There are no restrictions to happiness.  No age limit. No race exclusion. No gender discrimination.  There is no ‘fee’ or test to be happy. No mandated sexual orientation or political stance. Anyone can be happy. And I hope that they will be. God put me on this earth to make other people happy. I do that and that is my choice. Whether it's through random acts of kindness, because of faith or morals, because of other people, or because of hard work of your very own, everyone has a chance be happy. That is what I believe, and that is what I wish to see one day.

Haikus and Cake: Part 1

On Thursday, 10/23, the HWC celebrated the National Day on Writing. This year, anyone who wrote an original haiku and brought it to the HWC got a piece of cake! We received 107 haikus and served an entire sheet cake in exactly 13 minutes. It was thrilling.

Thanks to tutor Jaiden C. for planning this day!

We'll be publishing the haikus we received over the next few weeks.

 Herndon Powderpuff

Class of 15 won both years

Hashtag legacy

-Mr.  Kim

Procrastination

I have better things to do

than to do this po.....

-Sahj S.

Striker straight ahead

goes for a shot, goal denied.

Great save, goalkeeper.

-Luis A

Said, « Let them eat cake ! »
No PRIDE card for empathy
Marie Antoinette
-Mme. Rosenthal

Turtles are so cute

I would want them as a pet

Now I want some cake

-Coraima

I love crunchy fries

It reminds me of candy

They both taste like life

-Natalie

The rain is falling

There is not anyone near

The silence is bliss

-Aaron

My bed is so warm

My clock is so very cold

I think I’ll sleep in

-Jessie

Cake is really good

I am writing this for cake

Cake is so yummy

-Ryan

There you are, with me

You are the reason I wake

Poptarts for breakfast!

-Milagros

We run everywhere

We brave all the elements

This is cross country

-Mariela

Is this a haiku?

I’m bad with syllables

and I give up

I will try again

This is not working at all

this haiku is dead

-Emily