(File photo)
Submissions for Month of the Military Child by Mrs. Wagner’s AP Literature students.
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Where I’m From Poem
I am from the stars from the telescope,
forming steams of blues and greens,
red and oranges,
casted down onto a silent beach along the Pacific,
shattered into obsolete pieces,
beyond repair.
I am from the padding of the deers hooves,
who lay skittish on the river’s rocky edge at sunrise.
I am from the cluttered but secluded playroom,
that had become bare overtime
I am from the quiet dawn on a Washington porch,
from the smell of the dew on crisp bitter at mornings,
and the roots of the cucumber plant,
grown to an exponential size
I am from the school of Goldfish and the soil from Missouri lakes,
from no thank you bites and one more minute,
and from the splinters and spiders on an old deck and on slender trees,
which never failed to stagger me.
I am from the sweat on my face,
often covered in dread
from spelling quizzes and tests.
Overtime the pieces drift further apart,
and memories may become scarce,
but I am the remaining pictures treasures that I hold dear,
around the ones who care.
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“Where I Am From” Poem
I am from the trade winds of Oahu,
Shaped by the currents of the military
And anchored in the quiet alleys of Tokyo.
Mornings of a warm ocean breeze,
And nights surrounded neon buzzing lights
Converge in my memories when i am asked,
“Where are you from?”
Countless cycles of inner dilemmas
Have still not prepared me for this question.
I am split between bases, countries,
families and cities
I am a mosaic of “good-byes”, forever in motion.
I am from the trade winds of Oahu,
Shaped by the currents of the military
And anchored in the quiet alleys of Tokyo.
I am from my journey.
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Where I am From
I am the page,
The drawings and the paintings.
I am the stories of grand heroes,
And grander adventures.
I’m from Saturday night cartoons after dinner.
I’m from my father’s laughter,
I’m from my mother’s wisdom,
I’m from my sister’s playfulness.
I’m from summers of chirping cicadas,
And nights on packed trains.
I’m from the land of the rising sun,
I look onto a bright horizon.
I am my pain,
I am my joy,
I am my creativity,
I am from my mind,
I am Daniel.
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Where I’m From
I am from a white hospital
a small room with a window
from a house that reads 2413
that raises a flag with a lone star
I am from the dust of the Earth
from the red dirt road
I am from the seventh day
from a city I am yet to know
anywhere a car or plane can reach
is a place I can temporarily call home
my address card 18 lines of chaos
that say i am from the unknown
I am from camouflage and dandelions
from staying hidden and drifting away
my memories are seeds that scatter
and never quite know my name
my movements sharp and quick
so I leave before I remember
I am from this guilt of forgetting
so I hold on to the time that’s together
I’m from written postcards and letters
sending out everything that I can
I grasp on to anything real
that can tell me who I am
I constantly search for where I’m from
something in my life to ground me
from all the places that I roam and wander
I hope and pray will one day tell me
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Hair holds memory
Dec. 2009 Anchorage, Alaska
Age 2,
The first cut,
Pure, healthy, and platinum,
Forever encapsulated in ziploc
May. 2014
Age 6,
Curled, coiled, secured
Aching perfection
Slippers patting across the stage,
I will never dance on again;
Not one hair astray
June. 2016 Derby, Kansas
Age 8,
Wack!
Slapped my smirk, eyes clamped shut
my body upended, Hips dug into the bar
Puddle beneath my feet.
Scolded lesson:
Dry hair after swim, it Will interrupt gymnastics
March. 2021, Fairbanks, Alaska
Age 13,
Frost sticking like gum to a shoe
Perpetual depression
Endless nights, broken by dusk
Tangles to my waist
Mirroring my neglect
October. 2021, Tokyo, Japan
Age 14,
Ghostbusters and Pho
Fresh country, fresh cut:
How Awkward.
Graces the shoulder that shrugs it away,
Wish:
To be bald. (or my length back)
March. 2026, Tokyo, Japan
Age 18,
Average, tanned, hearty
Flowing and accepted.
Fallen; left on the seat of a train,
Or the waxed floor of a rally.
Wise and settled
Ready for tomorrow.
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The Simple Joys in Life
Call me G30, it reminds you of C3PO
And man I got a case
Im from Texas getting chased
All the way to outer space
And my momma used say
When it rains and it pours
You gotta look on the other side of the door
But man I find school such a Bore
When the weekend hit there already some pizza and some soda at my porch
Then I march to the store to grab some mike&ikes and more.
Back in my room, controllers in hand,
Dreaming of galaxies, far-off and grand.
I text my best friend, “Yo, you on tonight?”
We log into battle, our skills taking flight.
Laughing so hard, we forget about time,
Trading our stories in rhythm and rhyme.
It’s the simple joys that make life shine bright.
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Where I Am From Poem
I am from the back porch
From lady bug houses and snail races
From pockets heavy with collected rocks
From the hollowed tree I claimed as my own
Declaring it a castle
I am from Curiosity
I am from old wooden walls
From dancing with mama to The Four Seasons
From eating peanut butter, celery, and raisins,
And laughing because we call it “ants on a log”
I am from a purple bedroom
From warm hugs that linger
From “snug as a bug in a rug” whispered softly
I am from Love
I am from the California mountains
From the steady voice of my parents saying,
“You can do hard things”
From hiking through Yosemite National Park
I am from early mornings and tried muscles
A student, an athlete, a leader
I am from above the clouds on Mt. Fuji
I am from Perseverance
I am from the dining room table,
my self appointed studio
From colored pencils worn to stubs
From paint streaked hands and hair
I am from movement
Dance, rhythm, expression
From spinning flags under stadium lights
From cheers and routines practiced repeatedly
I am from Creativity
I am from the Deseret Cattle Ranch
From riding horses with J-Paw
And feeding chickens with Grandma
I am from the trampoline, watching a meteor shower,
Surrounded by cousins and siblings
I am from Florida beaches
I am from Joy
I am from more than one home
From a life shaped by movement and change
Family my only constant
Dad, Mom, Brothers, and Sister my closest friends
From being a military child
Rooted not in one place
I am from every place that has left its mark on me
I am from Opportunity
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Where I Am From Poem
I am from a broken luggage,
Its three worn wheels squeaking with excitement at every new destination.
Echoing the hum of roads that shaped me.
I am from stuffed animals,
Carrying the faint scent of childhood dreams and newly washed cotton.
I am from microwaved eggs and red rice,
Flavors borrowed from hurried days and loving hands,
Bringing spiced buttery nostalgia with each bite.
I am from coral reefs,
Bright veins of color breathing underwater
And the dim aquarium glow
Immersing myself in hush and wonder
I am from the islander reggae music,
Basslines swaying like tides, Voices smooth and sunsoaked
Transporting you back to the white beaches of a simple life
I am from 12 hour road trips,
From backyard barbeques thick with smoke and laughter,
From pretend spas and massage parlours.
Where my grandparents’ laughter lingered in every moment.
I am from an outdoor plastic chair,
Present throughout hundreds of parties and barbeques
Its cracked white surface holding the weight of heavy laughter
I’m from my mother’s passed down ornamental jewelry box
Its wooden frame encased with dancing cranes of mother-of-pearl
Velvet cradling treasures and artifacts
Photographs spill with faces of old friends laughing besides new ones
Broken golden earrings encrusted with rubies, treasured not for their sparkle, but for the generations they have witnessed
These fragments more priceless than any diamond.
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Where I am From
I am from experience,
from country to continent.
I am from the Doraemon pillow I bring on flights,
whose fur is matted from the amount of takeoffs and landings it has endured.
I am from unpacked luggage,
from jet-lagged nights.
I am from the first day of school,
from cafeteria cheesesticks.
I am from “make some friends”
and “don’t come home until dinner.”
I am from scraped knees,
from tumbling down cool autumn hills
and losing my grip on the weathered oak tree branches.
I am from packed bags and hugs goodbye,
from the crowded gate within the terminal.
I am from the places I never stayed,
yet have somehow stayed with me.
I am from the goodbyes that have taught me strength,
and the hellos that brought me to new experiences.
I am from a life always in motion,
still learning what it means to belong.
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Where I am from poem
I am from forest backroads
High mountain peaks
I am from handmade shelves
Homemade quilts
I am from long kept Bibles
Crooked pews
I am from all tan houses
Barbed wire fences
I am from shared rooms
Crowded bunkbeds
I am from small adventures
Long walks
I am from a crowded car
Bumping shoulders
I am from the people I love
Home
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Where I Am From Poem
I am from all of these pieces of my life combined
Love and blessings are what I am surrounded by
Every polaroid, pose, and person plastered around my walls
A blade on the ice and my emotions run high
Hamstrings tense on the court, techniques master on the mat
Joyous are the days when I travel the vast, unknown world
A military base full of strangers to smile with, laugh, and cry
Zap! Reunions with familiar faces that remind me of my childhood
My thunderous laugh heard when around my friends, proud I am no longer shy
I am from all of these pieces of my life combined
Notes from my strings and board that are a reminder to be grateful
Every medal, award, and achievement that make me always thankful
Never am I without my chaotic family
Burdens hidden behind a mask of thoughts and ideas
Anticipation and anxiety in moments of stress
Regret and relief in situations that remind me I am a child
A clean room, a healthy life, a chaotic mind, and a complex heart
Open wounds from the past that replay in my head
I am from all of these pieces of my life combined
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I Am From the Starting Line
I am from early mornings
where the track still breathes mist
and silence waits to be broken
by spikes biting into red.
I am from the echo of a starter’s gun
that lives in my chest,
counting down even when no one’s watching.
I am from nicknames that stuck like stories
Pavement,
because I learned how to fall and get back up,
Pavy,
soft like the people who know me best,
Pablo,
a version of me that laughs louder than the rest.
I am from Germany’s gray skies
and quiet streets that held my footsteps,
from distance that taught me
how to carry people without holding them.
I am from hotel key cards
thin pieces of plastic lives,
temporary doors,
rooms that never felt like home
but always held a version of me passing through.
I am from grief I don’t always name,
that sits beside me on long runs,
that tightens my chest
more than any sprint ever could.
I am from songs playing low in my headphones,
from BoyWithUke melodies
that understand the quiet kind of hurt,
the kind you don’t explain
just feel.
I am from 12.71 seconds
not a limit,
but a promise I haven’t finished yet.
I am from the burn in my legs
and the voice in my head that says keep going,
even when everything else says stop.
I am from discipline dressed like exhaustion,
from sweat that writes stories
no one else gets to read.
I am from something relentless
a vision that doesn’t sleep,
that whispers 10.5… 21… 48…
like it already knows who I’ll become.
I am from leaving and arriving,
from doors opening and closing,
from learning that home
is something I build, not find.
I am from falling short
and getting up faster.
I am from the space
between who I am
and who I refuse not to become.
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Where I Am From?
I am from the snowy hills,
A snowflake drifting through the breeze.
Unique and frail, sending chills, Causing all around to freeze.
I am from the sunny valley,
A kaleidoscope of butterflies in the air.
Bright and colorful, spreading joy,
Causing all to feel ecstatic.
I am from the changing seasons,
Someone that never stays the same.
Different phases of the moon,
Leaving as the sun came.
I am from all around,
Always moving somewhere new.
Leaving those that I love,
A military brat with no home.
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Where Am I From?
It is a question I get from many people
When I was younger, I did not know before
My parents are from Hawaii
It is home for me,
But it is not the cookie cutter houses I have known my whole life
My childhood friends are from California
Bonds over Kraft Mac and Cheese,
But it is not the German and Japanese labels I had to learn
My first relationship with a boy comes from middle school
Ended because it was bad,
But it is not the same, endless COVID-19 I had to endure
My inspiration comes from Bruno Mars soundtracks
Stuck in my head,
But it is not the Star-Spangled Banner’s singing I hear every day
My recent achievements root from AFJROTC
It takes discipline,
But it is not the “Quiet down” or “Speak up” that roams in my mind’s thoughts
My memories root from letters
And photos dear to me,
But it is not the feeling in the same house my grandparents’ hands built
Today, I still get this question from my new friends
Now I am older, I know a little more
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I am From My Collection of Keepsakes
I am from my mothers choices and my fathers career
From the park by my grandma house and airplane hangers
The baby blanket I carried while I was swept away by the military lifestyle
I am from the brown moving boxes that have constantly cluttered my life
My piggy bank full of international currency and hope
From stuffed animals and suitcases
I am from the people I have surrounded myself with
hand-me-downs from old friends and polaroids stuck to my wall
The backwards “n” stitched onto a handmade gift
From birthday cards signed by close family and stamped with the american flag
I am from the countless photobooth pictures filled with smiles and laughter
My collection of endless memories, old and new
I am from the love and kindness from others
These sweet memories I carry with me where ever I go
My cherished keepsakes
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Where I am From Poem
I am from places that change before I can settle in.
From packed boxes and goodbyes that come too soon.
I am from multiple airports
I am from many cultures
I am from home is where the heart is
I am from early mornings and late night games
From courts to fields
Court shoes to Cleats
From the thrill of competing to the lesson of losing
From meeting new people
Learning new names
Learning from new coaches
To growing into a leader
I am from food
From Baby Back ribs to Onigiri
I am from beats of songs
From the catchy lyrics to the music that touches my soul
I am from salty air and golden sunlight
From beaches where worries drift out with the tide
From endless days under the sun
I am from joy that comes easily and often
From laughing until my stomach hurts
From finding happiness in every place I land
From sonder
From carrying light no matter where I go
I am from gratefulness to be able to try
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Where I Am From Poem
I am from moving boxes
and goodbyes that never quite finish,
from base housing and early mornings,
from rules that echoed louder than laughter.
I am from crochet hooks clicking softly,
from books stacked like quiet towers,
from flowers that tried to bloom
no matter the soil they were planted in.
I am from soup simmering on the stove,
from the library’s hush and dust lit windows,
from whispered pages and borrowed worlds
that stayed when everything else changed.
I am from “talk less”
and “be less opinionated,”
words folded into discipline,
stitched into the seams of growing up.
I am from Percy Jackson adventures,
from myths stronger than reality,
from heroes who spoke boldly
even when I was told not to.
I am from “Tuvia Jean-Louis,”
from names that carry weight and memory,
from ice cream melting too fast
in places too hot or too temporary.
I am from science fairs and sharp expectations,
from questions that needed answers
and answers that needed proof,
from curiosity that refused to sit still.
I am from mean teachers and sharper lessons,
from learning resilience in quiet ways,
from holding my tongue
and sharpening my mind instead.
I am from Egypt’s heat and ancient echoes,
from Paris streets and distant dreams,
from worlds stitched together
like patches on a uniform.
I am from Indie music in headphones,
a softer rebellion,
a place where my voice
could exist without permission.
Under it all,
I am from becoming
not less,
but more than I was told to be.
