Sunday, September 13, 2009
Friday, September 11, 2009
9/11 a day not forgotten or rather a day to always be remembered.
Every year since 2001 the remembrance of this terrible day in American history seems to be treated with less and less significance. Through my fourth-fifth grade we had a special ceremony, my middle school years we had discussions in a couple of my classes over the horrific events that affected every citizen in the United States of America. My ninth grade year my school made a presentation that every class was obligated to watch. This year and the year previous I did not watch one movie on it and I hadn't even heard people talk about it except when my teacher announced that we would not be watching the presentation of it...and sadly, I was okay with that. I suppose that I was so wrapped up in my homework and selfish thoughts of how I was going to handle my busy schedule this weekend that I did not realize how important my memories of that time were to me until my very last class of the day.
I walked into my seventh hour debate classroom and caught my breath. I had just pushed through the a busy hallway that had been crowded with students going the opposite direction that I was heading, and I was tired. Not only tired of my experience getting to class but also because I was thinking of all my homework that I had to do... It seems like that's all I ever talk about or do anymore. Anyways, I went to my seat and pulled out my math textbook and did homework of course. (I was trying to cut down on the number of textbooks I would need to bring home.) After the tardy bell rang and I had gotten a couple of math problems done the lights suddenly went off and the smart board screen had turned blue. I looked up, ready to tell whoever had turned off the lights to stop messing, only to find that Mr. Stackhouse was the one who had done it.
Ignoring the questions all of his students were asking him, Mr. Stackhouse said we were going to watch a movie and to be quiet. A few moments later all of our eyes were on the screen watching the second tower fall. We watched it fall about twenty times from different view points each time. After he had sombered us, he again told us to be quiet and he presented a slide show on the board... The slides said something like this...
"Please be quiet"
"don't talk to your neighbor."
"Today each person will be giving a speech."
"The speech will start with these two phrases..."
"I was in (blank) grade when 9/11 occurred... and...on 9/11 I remember..."
"Your speech can be as long or as short as you want it. I (Mr. Stackhouse) will go first and after I'm done and when your ready you can go up to the front of the room and give your speech."
It was after we had finished reading the slides that Mr. Stackhouse got up and gave his speech. Immediately emotion filled the room as were remembered 9/11. After he was done my classmates also gave their speeches. Some ending in tears... others memories of confusion and fear... and others with statements of how it brought our country closer together.
As each student got up I knew my moment was becoming closer and closer, and I dreaded it, because as I listened to the speeches it seemed like everyone remembered exactly what they were doing that day and I remembered nothing specific about that day. When I thought of September 11th there was only one thing I really thought of...
Finally, every one else had gone, and it was my turn. I walked up to the front of the room knowing that I would either end up balling or not being serious to cover up my emotions... knowing either one would be bad.
Here is what I said:
"I was in the third grade when 9/11 occurred. I don't remember what my class was doing that day and I don't remember how I found out what happened, but I do remember that about a week or so after 9/11 rumors began being spread around my hometown of Las Vegas that a similar attack was to happen to the MGM... and obviously that didn't happen but... (this is where I burst in tears) my dad worked there! I was a third grader and who wondered every day if my dad was going to come home alive. I always thought someone was going to attack my hometown."
I sat down and began mopping up my tear stained face with a tissue, and Mr. Stackhouse got up again. He said that he heard someone say this earlier today and he wanted to share it with us. He said, "9/11 is always referred to as a day that will never be forgotten, but it really should be known as a day that shall always be remembered."
I hope that none of you allow math homework or busy schedules to get in the way of your remembrance of this important day in history. Please don't let it pass by without a thought. It is a day that should always be remembered.
Taysom Wallace
September 11, 2009
I walked into my seventh hour debate classroom and caught my breath. I had just pushed through the a busy hallway that had been crowded with students going the opposite direction that I was heading, and I was tired. Not only tired of my experience getting to class but also because I was thinking of all my homework that I had to do... It seems like that's all I ever talk about or do anymore. Anyways, I went to my seat and pulled out my math textbook and did homework of course. (I was trying to cut down on the number of textbooks I would need to bring home.) After the tardy bell rang and I had gotten a couple of math problems done the lights suddenly went off and the smart board screen had turned blue. I looked up, ready to tell whoever had turned off the lights to stop messing, only to find that Mr. Stackhouse was the one who had done it.
Ignoring the questions all of his students were asking him, Mr. Stackhouse said we were going to watch a movie and to be quiet. A few moments later all of our eyes were on the screen watching the second tower fall. We watched it fall about twenty times from different view points each time. After he had sombered us, he again told us to be quiet and he presented a slide show on the board... The slides said something like this...
"Please be quiet"
"don't talk to your neighbor."
"Today each person will be giving a speech."
"The speech will start with these two phrases..."
"I was in (blank) grade when 9/11 occurred... and...on 9/11 I remember..."
"Your speech can be as long or as short as you want it. I (Mr. Stackhouse) will go first and after I'm done and when your ready you can go up to the front of the room and give your speech."
It was after we had finished reading the slides that Mr. Stackhouse got up and gave his speech. Immediately emotion filled the room as were remembered 9/11. After he was done my classmates also gave their speeches. Some ending in tears... others memories of confusion and fear... and others with statements of how it brought our country closer together.
As each student got up I knew my moment was becoming closer and closer, and I dreaded it, because as I listened to the speeches it seemed like everyone remembered exactly what they were doing that day and I remembered nothing specific about that day. When I thought of September 11th there was only one thing I really thought of...
Finally, every one else had gone, and it was my turn. I walked up to the front of the room knowing that I would either end up balling or not being serious to cover up my emotions... knowing either one would be bad.
Here is what I said:
"I was in the third grade when 9/11 occurred. I don't remember what my class was doing that day and I don't remember how I found out what happened, but I do remember that about a week or so after 9/11 rumors began being spread around my hometown of Las Vegas that a similar attack was to happen to the MGM... and obviously that didn't happen but... (this is where I burst in tears) my dad worked there! I was a third grader and who wondered every day if my dad was going to come home alive. I always thought someone was going to attack my hometown."
I sat down and began mopping up my tear stained face with a tissue, and Mr. Stackhouse got up again. He said that he heard someone say this earlier today and he wanted to share it with us. He said, "9/11 is always referred to as a day that will never be forgotten, but it really should be known as a day that shall always be remembered."
I hope that none of you allow math homework or busy schedules to get in the way of your remembrance of this important day in history. Please don't let it pass by without a thought. It is a day that should always be remembered.
Taysom Wallace
September 11, 2009
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Taysom makes my life sound easy in comparison, and it's not
7:00-7:50: seminary (usualy late because of Taysom)
7:50-8:30: band practice
8:30-3:30: school
3:30-7:30: football practice
8:30-10:00: basketball(on wendesdays)
do you think, after all that I want to explain to Taysom how my day went? no. I just want to eat, and watch some sports. even on Saturday we have pratice from 8:30am-11:30am. even this monday, with no school, we have practice from 8:30am-11:30am.
I was a ball boy on friday for the Varsity, the game was at West Plains (which is about a 3 hour ride). they have the weirdest mascot. they're the West Plain Zizzers, which is supposed to be the sound of lightning. Anyways, we're supposed to start the game at 7pm, but it get's pushed back to 9pm, because of lightning. the game gets done at about 11:30pm. we actualy leave West Plains about midnight. I was home, in my bed, sleeping at about 4am. of course we have a full contact the next day at 8:30 am, which the coaches don't exempt me from, and of course I was in the whole 2 hour scrimage, and I got about 3 1/2 hours of sleep the night before.
but, on the bright side, BYU beat OU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 14-13, it was a nail-biter from the begining. 4th and goal, on the 6 yard line, Max Hall finds a reciever at the back of the endzone! Max Hall threw for over 300 yards that game, it was incredible. now I can rub this win in several of my OU-loving friends faces.
Tucker
7:50-8:30: band practice
8:30-3:30: school
3:30-7:30: football practice
8:30-10:00: basketball(on wendesdays)
do you think, after all that I want to explain to Taysom how my day went? no. I just want to eat, and watch some sports. even on Saturday we have pratice from 8:30am-11:30am. even this monday, with no school, we have practice from 8:30am-11:30am.
I was a ball boy on friday for the Varsity, the game was at West Plains (which is about a 3 hour ride). they have the weirdest mascot. they're the West Plain Zizzers, which is supposed to be the sound of lightning. Anyways, we're supposed to start the game at 7pm, but it get's pushed back to 9pm, because of lightning. the game gets done at about 11:30pm. we actualy leave West Plains about midnight. I was home, in my bed, sleeping at about 4am. of course we have a full contact the next day at 8:30 am, which the coaches don't exempt me from, and of course I was in the whole 2 hour scrimage, and I got about 3 1/2 hours of sleep the night before.
but, on the bright side, BYU beat OU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 14-13, it was a nail-biter from the begining. 4th and goal, on the 6 yard line, Max Hall finds a reciever at the back of the endzone! Max Hall threw for over 300 yards that game, it was incredible. now I can rub this win in several of my OU-loving friends faces.
Tucker
Friday, September 4, 2009
Tis' the Season :)
This is my first paper of the school year. Thats right, I've only been in school for 3 weeks...maybe four and i've already had a paper due, I've taken 6 quizzes, 1 exam, have had a couple of hours of homework every night, been called as seminary class president, gone to a couple of tennis tournament things, I go to all of my church activities, and I'm learning how to drive. I have been stretched to my limit. Thats how fall always is, busy and stressful. Despite that fact, fall is actually my favorite season, which is why I wrote my first paper of the school year about it. I hope you enjoy a couple of my memories that I have of fall :)
Autumn in Las Vegas is honestly just an extension of summer. The cacti and tumbleweeds don’t change color and pigeons refuse to fly South for the winter, which meant, that when I lived there, I had the stomach wrenching task of cleaning up bird droppings all year round. (Lucky me!) I can’t even remember when wearing a jacket to school was actually necessary. All of these things or rather the fact that I was deprived of ever experiencing a season other than summer, made my first fall in Joplin magical.
The bell rang and a mob of middle school kids burst out of their classrooms and made a mad dash for their lockers. It was pandemonium! Conveniently every student was on the side of the hall that was completely opposite from where their lockers were. The stronger and older students primitively forced others out of their path, while sixth graders put their textbooks in front of their faces and walked slowly through the mob of students hoping to avoid collisions. Everyone was anxious to leave the school and go home to play video games or spend hours on the phone with friends discussing there most recent crush. (Yep, if there was one thing every student was good at it was making sure their brains were empty for the next day of school.) Well, everyone besides me. I wasn‘t in a rush. I had just moved to Joplin a couple of weeks ago and I didn’t have any friends to go talk to. Nor, did I have parents waiting outside to pick me up. (Both of my parents were teachers and my house was only a mile away. Put two and two together and I was the perfect candidate for that “privileged” group of students who got to walk home.)
Eventually, everything but the stench of seventh hour’s gym class and the echoes of squeaky shoes had cleared the halls. This was when I would make my escape. I hastened to my locker, threw in my textbooks and got out of the middle school’s oppressive walls faster than a nerdy kid can solve a math problem.
When I stepped outside the school, I was bombarded by exquisite senses. Panting, from sprinting out of the school building, I stopped to catch my breath, and breathed in clean air. After a day of walking through Axe fumes and boys who were going for a man’s natural odor, I cherished the brisk cold oxygen that reached my lungs. I took another deep breath and closed my eyes only to feel Jack Frost nipping at my now rosy cheeks. When I opened my eyes, I opened them to a world of vibrant color. Mango and crimson leaves cascaded down from balding trees across the street, covering the local lawns. The blue translucent sky took a supporting role to the bold colors of the leaves and created the perfect screen saver.
Although I never left that state of wonder and adoration, I did recall myself back to reality when I began to shiver. I pulled on my jacket and headed senses first into this new realm which I had already fallen in love with.
The brittle leaves crunched beneath my shoes as I walked home that day giving purpose to my walk and allowed me to strut confidently to my house. My mind was not on homework, neither was it filled with sadness from the move. Instead, I felt the spirit that kind of scene inspires. In that moment I was an artist capturing details that would help recreate the scene in my mind.
I silently wished that all year long could be this way, but alas seasons come and seasons change. And to my disappointment fall disappeared just as soon as it had come.
I am now a junior in high school and although I live too far away to walk home and relive my first fall, I constantly watch for sneak previews that tell me my favorite season is right around the corner.
I recently experienced one of these “sneak previews” at a friend’s slumber party. It was a typical all girls party. It was loud, fun, and filled with talk of boys. We played games and watched “The Office” and a couple of the girls even reenacted Twilight. It was hard not to burst out laughing when the actresses had to profess their love for each other! The hot tamale sugar rush, we were on, could only last so long, though, and eventually all of the party goers passed out amidst the popcorn and pillows on the floor of Rachel’s bedroom.
Ten hours later, my friends and I were back to partying. We were jumping on the trampoline teasing each other about our bed head and non made-up selves when I breathed in the brisk morning air and smelled fall. My favorite season was almost here! I was exuberant!
Although fall hasn’t changed since my first experience of it in seventh grade, it now takes on a deeper meaning. Now when I picture fall I think of much more than the beautiful scenery or walking home amongst the crunch of leaves. Rather I remember and anticipate spending Friday nights at football games where my friends and I cheered as if the number of touchdowns scored by the Joplin eagles depended on us. I recall all the times my friends and I lost our voices from trying to be louder than the cheerleaders at those games. I think of all the cute sweaters that I will be able to wear as the chilly weather sets in. I picture spending nights with my family drinking the kind of hot chocolate that is always watery no matter how much chocolate mix you put in it. I think of my September birthday and ponder the fact that I will be driving in less than a month. And I pause to wonder if the residents of Las Vegas know what they are missing.
People often comment that I must hate living in Joplin when I tell them I was raised in Las Vegas. To this comment I have only one reply: Cacti can look pretty and heat may prevent a person from getting the flu, but I would never go back to a Vegas summer after experiencing a Missouri fall.
I hope you all enjoy this magical season :)
<3 Taysom
Autumn in Las Vegas is honestly just an extension of summer. The cacti and tumbleweeds don’t change color and pigeons refuse to fly South for the winter, which meant, that when I lived there, I had the stomach wrenching task of cleaning up bird droppings all year round. (Lucky me!) I can’t even remember when wearing a jacket to school was actually necessary. All of these things or rather the fact that I was deprived of ever experiencing a season other than summer, made my first fall in Joplin magical.
The bell rang and a mob of middle school kids burst out of their classrooms and made a mad dash for their lockers. It was pandemonium! Conveniently every student was on the side of the hall that was completely opposite from where their lockers were. The stronger and older students primitively forced others out of their path, while sixth graders put their textbooks in front of their faces and walked slowly through the mob of students hoping to avoid collisions. Everyone was anxious to leave the school and go home to play video games or spend hours on the phone with friends discussing there most recent crush. (Yep, if there was one thing every student was good at it was making sure their brains were empty for the next day of school.) Well, everyone besides me. I wasn‘t in a rush. I had just moved to Joplin a couple of weeks ago and I didn’t have any friends to go talk to. Nor, did I have parents waiting outside to pick me up. (Both of my parents were teachers and my house was only a mile away. Put two and two together and I was the perfect candidate for that “privileged” group of students who got to walk home.)
Eventually, everything but the stench of seventh hour’s gym class and the echoes of squeaky shoes had cleared the halls. This was when I would make my escape. I hastened to my locker, threw in my textbooks and got out of the middle school’s oppressive walls faster than a nerdy kid can solve a math problem.
When I stepped outside the school, I was bombarded by exquisite senses. Panting, from sprinting out of the school building, I stopped to catch my breath, and breathed in clean air. After a day of walking through Axe fumes and boys who were going for a man’s natural odor, I cherished the brisk cold oxygen that reached my lungs. I took another deep breath and closed my eyes only to feel Jack Frost nipping at my now rosy cheeks. When I opened my eyes, I opened them to a world of vibrant color. Mango and crimson leaves cascaded down from balding trees across the street, covering the local lawns. The blue translucent sky took a supporting role to the bold colors of the leaves and created the perfect screen saver.
Although I never left that state of wonder and adoration, I did recall myself back to reality when I began to shiver. I pulled on my jacket and headed senses first into this new realm which I had already fallen in love with.
The brittle leaves crunched beneath my shoes as I walked home that day giving purpose to my walk and allowed me to strut confidently to my house. My mind was not on homework, neither was it filled with sadness from the move. Instead, I felt the spirit that kind of scene inspires. In that moment I was an artist capturing details that would help recreate the scene in my mind.
I silently wished that all year long could be this way, but alas seasons come and seasons change. And to my disappointment fall disappeared just as soon as it had come.
I am now a junior in high school and although I live too far away to walk home and relive my first fall, I constantly watch for sneak previews that tell me my favorite season is right around the corner.
I recently experienced one of these “sneak previews” at a friend’s slumber party. It was a typical all girls party. It was loud, fun, and filled with talk of boys. We played games and watched “The Office” and a couple of the girls even reenacted Twilight. It was hard not to burst out laughing when the actresses had to profess their love for each other! The hot tamale sugar rush, we were on, could only last so long, though, and eventually all of the party goers passed out amidst the popcorn and pillows on the floor of Rachel’s bedroom.
Ten hours later, my friends and I were back to partying. We were jumping on the trampoline teasing each other about our bed head and non made-up selves when I breathed in the brisk morning air and smelled fall. My favorite season was almost here! I was exuberant!
Although fall hasn’t changed since my first experience of it in seventh grade, it now takes on a deeper meaning. Now when I picture fall I think of much more than the beautiful scenery or walking home amongst the crunch of leaves. Rather I remember and anticipate spending Friday nights at football games where my friends and I cheered as if the number of touchdowns scored by the Joplin eagles depended on us. I recall all the times my friends and I lost our voices from trying to be louder than the cheerleaders at those games. I think of all the cute sweaters that I will be able to wear as the chilly weather sets in. I picture spending nights with my family drinking the kind of hot chocolate that is always watery no matter how much chocolate mix you put in it. I think of my September birthday and ponder the fact that I will be driving in less than a month. And I pause to wonder if the residents of Las Vegas know what they are missing.
People often comment that I must hate living in Joplin when I tell them I was raised in Las Vegas. To this comment I have only one reply: Cacti can look pretty and heat may prevent a person from getting the flu, but I would never go back to a Vegas summer after experiencing a Missouri fall.
I hope you all enjoy this magical season :)
<3 Taysom
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)