For the month of October, 2008 Robert Lee taught creative writing to students of all ages at Hydaburg School, in the remote fishing village of Hydaburg, Alaska, on the Prince of Wales Island. This pilot project was funded by the National Endowment for the Arts. Some of those students wrote the following:
M.K.
Grounded
A bird. . . soaring, gliding, flying freely
On their way, anywhere south
For the winter, northe for the summer.
All that freedom--what do they do?
They can do anything, enjoy
All the cold or even hot
Places they want. Summer time,
They could be in Barrow enjoying
The cold or in Hawaii enjoying
The very hot summer day.
The bird can be anywhere.
They could just fly
But not us. . .we have complications.
If the bird gets bored
Of flying, let me know
I want to enjoy the free life.
The bird has all
The freedom in the world.
M.K #2
Dear My Father Milton Kadake
Yes, you are my father
But, yet I know your name
And yes I do know
I have two other siblings
A brother, Anthony
A sister, Christina.
I've never seen my brother.
I will soon see them both.
When will you
Come into my life?
And show me how
It is to have a father.
R.R
Willow Tree
As I sit under this big tall willow tree
I realize it's not so much different than me.
The willow tree is sad all day
I mope around in the same way.
The tree is lonely in nature
with no one to comfort it.
I am lonely in society
even though I have variety.
The willow tree looks dead
as I do.
We share the same feelings when no one's around.
I like to let loose and kick the ground.
You and me are the same--you and i, me and you,
we sit next to each other in the morning
when you're wet with morning dew.
B.E.
Dear Mom
I wonder how different things
would be if I didn't move.
I wonder what life would be
like if my dad didn't live
so far away. Sometimes
I wish I didn't have to wonder
what the better part of life
would be like, but life
is not always easy.
I want to come home.
C C (freshman)
Pain
I feel pain, blue green, black, brown, red
all of the colors remain the same
but now I see them differently
along with everything els.
Being young like me and losing
your kid before you know what he
or she looks like, is enough
to make you now want to live.
But, my head is held high
and I remain happy and keep my pain
buied deeper than six feet.
Knowing that I have another chance
to go on with my teenage life.
I am lucky.
Life is not a game
and cannot be restarted.
D L.
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