Tag Archives: student writing

Even More from an Imaginary Trip Around the World

Here’s another story from  An Imaginary Trip Around the World, the brand-new writing collection from the University Settlement Adult Literacy Program and the NYU Gallatin Writing Program. The following story, along with the other stories in the collection, comes from the Advanced Writing Class taught by Prof. June Foley of NYU Gallatin with the help of undergraduate student-teachers. Enjoy!

You

Larysa Frankiv

Boom, boom, boom—again and again. The sound grows stronger, faster. Boom, boom, boom. She closes her eyes. Tears cover her face and fall to the floor. The floor is gray and old, with small holes in it. There is a strange smell that surrounds her. She does not understand what is going on. Cords and wires are everywhere. Again, the sound: boom, boom, boom. She cannot concentrate, and loses control. The room has a huge window without a view; no sunlight, only a brick wall. This darkness creeps inside of her. She is scared. Boom, boom, boom. She grows dizzy. She is weak and strong at the same time. The sound bothers her. She tries to be calm and focused, but again: boom, boom, boom. She cannot control it. She is not hearing, she is feeling. This sound is a part of her. She is me.

It was a summer day. That day, I had decided to stay at home because it was so warm outside. My intuition told me it was the right thing to do. I spent the whole day eating watermelon and doing chores. I was excited because I was waiting for you. I went to sleep as usual. I did not know that the night would be special. In the middle of the night, I awoke. I called Mom. She told me it was time. I was not prepared for you. I had nothing packed. But I left.

I returned to the familiar room. I knew the smell and the walls, too. Cords were everywhere. My body was shaking, and then I was unconscious, but I do not remember for how long. Suddenly, I felt pain. I was screaming and crying, “Why does it hurt?” My body did not belong to me. I did not understand the people around me. I begged for help, but they ignored me.

A room. A table. Cords. Instruments. The same smell. The same people. I was conscious and unconscious. I did not know how long it was. I saw you. It was a nightmare that became a miracle. Sunlight shot in, and the room became warm and cozy. It was really you. You were mine. I had waited for you for eight long months. I forgot the pain that cut me apart when I saw you: a red miracle. You were crying, so I did, too. We had different reasons for our tears, but it did not matter.

Boom. Boom. I am crying. I am happy and scared. This is my miracle. It was the first time that I heard you. It was the first time I knew you were inside of me. Now I know you are real. You are alive. You are part of us. I cannot explain what I feel. I love you so much. I waited for you for so long. You.

 

Click here to read more.

 

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More from An Imaginary Trip Around the World

Here’s another story from  An Imaginary Trip Around the World, the brand-new writing collection from the University Settlement Adult Literacy Program and the NYU Gallatin Writing Program. The following story, along with the other stories in the collection, comes from the Advanced Writing Class taught by Prof. June Foley of NYU Gallatin with the help of undergraduate student-teachers. Enjoy!

Wednesday

Alex Gheciu

This Wednesday, I was walking on the street with a friend of mine, then we went inside a coffee shop to get a warm drink. While we waited in line, a young lady, looking to me like 30 years old, started talking to us in a very positive manner. She said a couple of interesting things.

“Sleep when you’re tired, eat when you’re hungry, and try to walk or move as much as you can! That’s what my mom always said to me, and she asked me to spread this message to others any time I get the chance,” she said.

She asked us how old we thought she was, and we said, “Thirty-something?”

Wrong. She said she was 51 years old. Then she said, “You guys are like 26 years old, right?”

**********

Yes, she was right because my friend is turning 26 in two weeks, and I’m also young, 36 years old.

“Okay, then you definitely know some secrets too!” she said to me. We all started to laugh. It was a funny and pleasant moment at the same time.

I actually have my own explanation for those 10 “extra” years on my ID card. I think my youthfulness is how life pays me back for loving it so much. Or maybe that’s just God paying me back for all of those days (years) I was praying to him when I was a kid. Or maybe that’s how I look after shaving my beard and getting a nice haircut? Or maybe she couldn’t see my wrinkles? Or maybe that young lady just decided to make someone happy by saying that. Or maybe. . .

**********

One fact is clear to me—she tried to share her positive thoughts to others in a nice manner. Isn’t that a beautiful thing?

 

Click here to read more.

 

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An Imaginary Trip Around the World

Ladies and gentlemen, we proudly present to you  An Imaginary Trip Around the World, the brand-new writing collection from the University Settlement Adult Literacy Program and the NYU Gallatin Writing Program. The following story/poem, along with the other stories in the collection, comes from the Advanced Writing Class taught by Prof. June Foley of NYU Gallatin with the help of undergraduate student-teachers. Enjoy!

I Remember

Lisa Szeto

I remember when I was a child. My mom had five children, including me.

I remember my mom holding my hand. That was over 50 years ago.

I remember my parents smiling at us when we did better than before.

I remember my parents beating us when we did the wrong thing.

I remember when we turned on our first TV. It was black and white.

I remember the first time I noticed wrinkles on my mom’s face.

I remember when I first noticed the spots of brown on my father’s face.

I remember the day I came to New York. The city was heavy with rain.

I remember the first time I saw snow falling, and they were little flurries. I cried from excitement.

I remember when I first heard William call me “Mom.”

I remember all the good and the bad. I like to remember the good most of all.

 

Click here to read more.

 

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2P’s Greatest Hits

Now it’s Class 2P’s turn. They also wrote about their lives in NYC, money, their jobs, and families, as well as accidents and emergencies. Click here or on the picture below to read it all.

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3A’s Greatest Hits

This past school year, Class 3A wrote about their lives in NYC, school, their jobs, their families, and memorable trips that they took. You can read it all by clicking here or on the picture below.

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The New Literacy Review is Here

The new Literacy Review is here, and this time five University Settlement Adult Literacy Program students have their writing published in it. The Literacy Review is an annual collection of writing by adult education students throughout New York City, and it is produced and published by the NYU Gallatin Writing Program, under the leadership of Professor June Foley.

Click here or on the picture above to read it online. Students, their story’s titles, and the page numbers are listed below:

“Bitter Coffee” by Jennifer Alonzo, page 44

“Love Conquers All” by Marilia Valengo, 46

“Paper Cranes” by Yuliia Semenova, page 63

“Father in My Heart” by Wei Wen Zeng, page 92

“Take(c)” by Fernanda Sequeira, page 104

And here’s a photo of Yuliia reading her story at NYU at the annual Literacy Review Gala and the University Settlement delegation which attended it:

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Student Writers at Symphony Space

Recently Class 3P took a trip to Symphony Space, where professional actors read a couple of their stories as part of the the All Write! program. Here are the two stories that were read:

The Rainy Day

Jian Wen Li 

“Tick and Tick,” this rhythm is like a wonderful melody to wake me from my dream. I rub my eyes and focus on listening.

Wow, this is rain, this is my favorite, a rainy day. I jump out of bed, run to the window and look out.

The leaves are scrubbed with bright green color, the rain drips little by little from the tips of the leaves, like a beaded curtain. The flowers open their arms and embrace the rain, satisfied sucking.

The house and the street are washed by the rain, so clean. The rain is dripping on the road, splashing down like beautiful blossoms. The cars drive so fast and spatter a white wave. People on the street are holding colorful umbrellas, like beautiful blooming flowers.

A breeze blows, I breathe greedily. The air is so fresh, accompanied by the smell of grass, which is the taste of spring.

I change my clothes and rush out the door. I like to be in the rain and let the rain fall on my face, the rain gently touch me.

You will never understand a Pluvophile*, how to love the rain.

*Pluvophile : a lover of rain; someone who finds joy and peace of mind during rainy days.

 

 

Happy Things In My Childhood 

Winnie Chen

I love my hometown and my childhood. My hometown is a small and beautiful place. The name is Chang Le. It was a city, now it is a zone. There are so many mountains and rivers, and also a lot of seafood. The weather is very good, it never snows in winter. In the morning, occasionally we saw a couple of icicles on the eaves of the roof, and the children all felt excited.

I miss my childhood very much. It was not as advanced as it is today, but everyday I feel and think we enjoyed a colorful life. There were no computers or mobile phones. If in the whole village one family had a TV, we thought they were rich. I remember when I was little, sometimes in the village there would be movies and we watched ancient singing dramas. I sat down on my father’s lap and fell asleep, then my father carried me home.

My father was a migrant worker. When he went to the farm, I would help bring rice and a snack to give my father to eat. My father was a hard worker. He had watermelon, sugarcane, and sweet potato. Also, he planted different kinds of vegetables and had a fish farm. Although we were not rich, we were never hungry with starving tummies.

I still remember one thing. When I was seven years old, my parents just sent me to kindergarten, but the teacher said I was too late and too old. I couldn’t study in kindergarten, I needed to study in first grade. I thought she didn’t like me. I cried.

There are still a lot of happy memories. I remember them all. I’ll leave it there for now.

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