Personal Narrative: Summer At Saints

For the duration of a summer, I spent my time living and working on a remote mountaintop in Pennsylvania. As a Counselor at Outdoor Odyssey Leadership Academy, I had the responsibility of mentoring youth through personal growth and development. We took pride in being a different kind of summer camp. At Outdoor Odyssey, participants’ mental and physical comfort zones would be pushed. The common rhetoric was that we did not sit around “painting rocks and singing Kumbaya” like all other summer camps. Such mentalities were driven into us by the Director of Operations during our two-week intensive staff boot camp.

“I sat down next to my brother, Dan, on the couch and got on my laptop. He started to look at my laptop and asked what I was doing with a smirk on his face. It was obvious that he knew what I was doing so I ignored him. My homework was to type a 5 paragraph essay on what we did over the summer. As I began to write, my laptop started to glitch. It kept happening over and over as I continued to type.

It was the week before spring break and little did I know I was about to have the time of my life. It all started when my mom told my sister and I we were going someplace special for spring break. My sister automatically assumed we were going to Disney World. Me and my mom didn’t like that idea much, but it was already decided my sister and I just didn’t know yet but we were about to find out. Then my mom told us we were going to Branson. Of Course me and my sister had know problem with that.

My first week at South Shades Crest went very well. At first, I was unsure about Kindergarten, but now I am loving it. Mrs. Chapman is a very great kindergarten teacher. She is very sweet and very helpful. Any questions or concerns that I have Mrs. Chapman is very nice to answer them for me. The students are very sweet towards me and I am having a blast so far in kindergarten. Mrs. Chapman has even given me time in the morning to work with students for my class project. This I really appreciate since I am talking away from her time.

Last summer I volunteered to be a camp counselor at a camp in Blowing Rock, North Carolina called Camp Sonshine. This camp is different from others in that they bring children ages 5 to 18 from inner city Memphis, Tennessee to the Appalachian Mountains. This

I am being transported in a chinook chopper as a rescue team for the survivors of operation redwing. All of the sudden I see a taliban soldier holding an RPG looks right at my helicopter and fires. The rocket zooms across the mountain and hits the helicopter. A blast of heat knocked me backward and out of the helicopter. I land into the mountain side as I see my helicopter crash into the mountain side. Soon enough I am rolling down the hill until I strike a rock. I am sitting on top of a cave and I hear coughing inside the cave. In fear of my life I thought it was the taliban, but when I come around the corner I see one of the soldiers I came to rescue. I sigh with relief and lean against the wall of the cave. But I did not have too much of a break from the action. I heard foot steps of two people on top of the cave. Me and marcus have our rifles pointed at the entrance of the cave. Four black beady eyes see us in the cave and we put 3 rounds in each of their heads.

A true masterpiece of a bong, the likes of which I had never seen before, stood on the floor, surrounded by, Austin and Greg, two of my other friends. Charlie and I took our places around it.

Hot summer day in southern California I was born at 1:17p.m. on August 13, 1996 in San Diego. My father was a marine and my mom was a stay at home mom like most of the wife’s of marines. I have three older sisters and one older brother and two younger brothers my older siblings are my half-sisters and brother. My two younger brothers both have a disability Carlos (Ricky) was born in Patterson, New Jersey he was immediately rushed into surgery because he has a heart condition when they had to cut him open and preform open heart surgery. My other little brother Gabriel Jr (Gabe) was diagnosed with autism when he was two or three he still has yet to talk to this day. My little brothers are a big part of my life I love them so much. If I lost one

During this past Autumn quarter, I had the opportunity to participate in service-learning through the Steans Center with the All Stars Project of Chicago. The All Stars Project of Chicago is a grassroots non-profit organization who transforms the lives of youth in poor communities by using the power of performance. The All Stars Project believes in channeling creativity in marginalized youth to result in positive development. I started volunteering with the All Stars in September and currently am an active volunteer. With the All Stars, I served as a community outreach team member and as an office team member. Working in both areas allowed me to see how all parts of the All Stars organization functions and allowed me to interact with both the All Stars staff and directly with the youth with whom they work with.

Hey guys Artisy here how are all of you doing? I hope well. So I know this chapter is late, but I needed some time for family issues that are going, on, for me and my EOG is next week, so I've been really busy, but dont worry summer is coming soon, so more chapters yay, and hopeful I'll be able to finish one of my books during the summer because I have, so many story ideas, and ones that are in progress, but enough about that let's get onto the story, and please comment what you think about what happens in the chapter.

We’re only several days away from 2017 and I’m sure we can all agree that 2016 was a really, almost unbearably, long and turbulent year for many of us. We’ve been graced with everything ranging from people becoming dogs on Snapchat to Vine being shutdown and lets not forget McDonalds introduced a 24-hours breakfast menu. Although 2016 was the worst we’re going to recap on all the good and bad things this year has given us incase you forgot.

Over winter break, my sister and I had too much free time surrounded by each other and tensions were already elevated. To add to the already malicious situation, my sister decided to wear my favorite pair of jeans and proceeded to claim they were hers when I questioned her about the incident the next day. Since an argument was inevitable, my sister and I gave up on trying to explain ourselves, but I was still frustrated. During the rest of break I contemplated stealing one of her sweaters and wearing it, then claiming the article of clothing was my own. It seemed so easy and so satisfying to enact the same annoyances she had given me with no punishment in sight. Fortunately, I regained enough cognitive thought to not go through with my vengeful

As I threw on my purple garments, I began to feel warmer. The long-johns clung to my skin, the gloves to my hands. My baggy over-pants and jacket were tightened, and my black mask covered everything on my face except my eyes. As I pulled up my hoodie I called out to my mom in a high pitched voice, “Mom let’s go.” I pulled up my hard plastic boots. My mom rushed in and pulled on hers I picked up my skis and put them down when we got outside. My mom did the same. As we stepped into them we were off to the lodge down the street.

My reflection was pensive as I stared at the window. I found myself sitting in homeroom. The lights were dimmed with only the soft disturbance sound of scratching pencils and tapping rain. My notebook was opened, and on a page, I had sketched the house I had seen on Friday. The third door. I hadn’t seen Gemma since the experience. Aside from an early morning glimpse, afar, as she floated off toward class. She appeared exceptionally distraught after the last experience, though I couldn't blame her. But I had a suspicion she didn't want to see me, converse.

I woke up one summer day and my mom told me to make sure my bags were packed.