Student Blog 2017-2018
by Kennedy Walpus, AP Lit student
There was history that was already made, there was history in the making. Those who had lived through the tough times and those who were learning about said times. It was the heat of curiosity, the chill of reality, an era standing still, an era always moving. We all were heading towards the best of the dreams and also heading towards the worst of nightmares. There was a community full of plain architecture and of plain people in the place called Temple City; there was a community full of plain architecture and of unique people in the place of Rancho Cucamonga.
It was the year of Technology and Rising Tensions two thousand seventeen. Temple City continued to flourish and ooze simplicity from every corner store and the white picket fenced houses. Each day continues to have an increase in population diversity, leading to more relationships as well as cultural diversity amongst all of those who have lived in the same house for decades. Rancho Cucamonga, on the other hand, always had this development of diversity with culture exposure brought daily. She was far more favored than that of her elder when it came to certain matters. She was fair and beautiful, full with mountain ranges and palm trees decorating everywhere one may go.
Her elder was more of one that had respect, with traditional buildings and monuments covering her entire bodice. She not only held the beginnings of new life but stories of past residents whose lives had begun anew, etched into her streets. Rancho, although beautiful, lacked in what Temple excelled. But that is only because she is just beginning to put her feet in the pool of success. Her children that lived amongst her mountains and all throughout, were rewriting the stories Temple’s daughters & sons first published. Rancho was not only a beginning but a light in the darkness and the darkness in the light. There are good days, there are bad days. But no days can compare when spent in either of these beautiful cities company.
I do think that all of us think in poems.
-Naomi Shihab Nye
Contributors to the blog are students in Ms. Washington's classes: Seniors in AP Literature and 9th grade ELA.