the+Giver+Journal+2+-Eva+S.

Last year, in Mrs. Jacobson’s writing class, I wrote a really long and meaningful poem about my grandma who has Alzheimer’s. I decided to read it out to the class, to see what their reaction would be to my pouring out of feelings on to paper. As I read it, I started to cry. As I read my poem, I looked up at the class, and people were chatting, looking at the ceiling, and even picking at their nails, all of which I’m sure were more interesting that my poem that I was actually sharing with them, for their own benefit. When people had to respond, they all said, “Oh that was nice, to improve I think that you shouldn’t have cried while you were reading.” These comments made me feel really crummy. Worst of all, Mrs. J said that the poem was very nice and that I must really trust the whole class to just go and dump my innermost feelings on them. Trust them…Yeah right. They were insulting what I worked hard to write, and was choking on my words for them, just so they would know what could happen to them, their parents, their grandparents, their future offspring. I often wish that I had just not read it out loud, and let them read it in my portfolio if they wanted, which they wouldn’t. Now, I realize that it is their loss, and if their relatives ever develop Alzheimer’s they might wish that they had listened to what I wrote and so foolishly read to them. If I hadn’t read that poem out loud I would have saved everybody’s time and my own tears.

Earlier this year, we had to give little speeches about our Nediv Lev causes, and the organization that I was donating a portion of my money to was the Alzheimer’s Association. I started off my little speech as “close your eyes”. Naturally, most people closed their eyes deciding that they would go along with it to get it over with. Naturally one person wouldn’t listen. So, I stared at that one person. Finally, I gave up and decided to continue my speech in which I had people imagine that they had Alzheimer and were unable to do everyday tasks. At the end, I think that nobody really understood what I was getting at. Next, my friend spoke about her cause, and she started crying in the middle. Everybody was looking at her, and feeling bad for her because she was crying. I myself had not cried because of what happened last time I cried. At the end, everybody felt sorry for my friend, and nobody really understood how much it took for little quiet shy me to speak at every body as opposed to letting the other people in my group talk as I pointed at the poster board. Doing this has helped me realize that even if you try really hard to make something work, people are going to not cooperate.

The poem that I wrote--Grandma