Addison Hearn
I am from the sound of rain on pavement
From the cool breeze and warm seaters
I am from the grey clouds in the sky
From the sing below the mapleI tree
I am from cozy blankets by the fire
Warm tea on cold days
I am from the sun and the stars
From chipping birds and bright lights
I am from the flowers growing in my mothers garden and cloud watching
From long walks and movie nights
Im from Persephone’s Garden filled with beautiful plants
White roses and lilies
I am from rivers and lakes
im from lighting and fireworks
im from thunderstorms and rain showers
Meena Wong
I am from the city life
From bustling streets to the sirens blaring at night
From summers strolling through Mel Lastman Square and unexplainable humid air
I am from the saying” Practice makes perfect and “patience leads to success”
From late-night snacks and playing blackjack
From nobody understanding why, why I can’t think at moments
From moving schools and houses I never bothered to count, on goodbyes and farewells that always feel unannounced.
From being too stiff on the outside and too soft on the inside
I am from having a love for camping and wildlife
From figure skating throughout my life on the cold ice.
From millions of ideas i never thought to discuss, while awaiting for the next TTC bus
I am from a mother who left home at 16, from a father who could be a little to mean
I’m from Steven king and Rick riordan, from having a passion for books and skateboarding
From staying up the whole night playing Valorant and fortnite, from never having a fear of heights.
I am from those fragments like a puzzle who come together piece by piece with every slit could lead to a greater tale.
I Am From Poem
Louie Yu
I am from birch stools, from rusty old bikes, and green gardening hoses.
I am from the oak tree in my backyard, ancient and colossal, with the sounds of the birds and squirrels that inhabit it.
I am from daisies, moistened from the morning dew and glistening in the sun.
I’m from opening the door on New Years to let the old year out and the new year in and inky eyes.
I am from Rick and Lynn.
I am from the ongoing cracking of jokes and being helpful.
From “Set the dinner table” and “get to bed.”
I’m from not having any beliefs and not committing myself to any religious practices.
I am from St. Catharines and the rural outskirts of Northern China.
From delicious white rice and savoury soup noodles.
From my grandpa’s contribution to the military with medical work and my grandma’s obsession with cleanliness.
In a drawer of my grandmother’s worn apartment lies photos and significant items of my
family’s lineage, carefully kept for my return.
I am from those mementos, old but pristine, reminding me of my heritage.
I am from…
By Bruna Quesada Nepomuceno, Grade 9, Thorold Hing School.
I am from the beautiful beach,
From the sunny days and waves sound,
I am prom the buildings,
The big city, the calm ocean,
That sometines, in the city, it has difficult locomotion.
I am from the sunflowers and the banana trees,
That had such cute monkeys,
That we alway gave bananas to eat.
I’m from the volleyball at the beach,
And the food table with rice and beans.
From my sister and my cousins,
I’m from the pranks and jokes we did,
And the smile when we were kids.
From my mom’s words, that we were buying the expensive doll when we get back,
Words that moms always said,
And in the end of the shopping, we never did get back.
I’m from no meat when god died,
But still have a delicious lunch that my grandma made,
I’m from the good brigadeiro,
And my mom’s delicious cake.
I’m from the Brazilians roots,
From the sunny day playing volleyball,
And then just get home at 13:00 pm,
And finally have a nice barbecue.
I’m from the sound that the piano did when me and my grandfather played together,
From the Christmas pictures that we took every year,
From every vacation that me pass in the same house,
I’m froM Brazil,
The place that I love the most and always will love.
Where I’m From
by Emma Ma
I am from the seas of people flooding the streets,
of the busy and bustling capital;
from black bean noodles to roasted ducks,
of family gatherings and fond relatives;
from magnificent landmarks to every little alley,
of the historical city of Beijing.
I am from bright red qipao, envelopes, and decorations,
of merry new year celebrations;
from mooncakes filled with tasty bean paste,
of the night of full moon’s festival;
from endless stories, etched firmly in my mind;
of legendary warriors… and crazy monkey kings.
I am from long conversations with my loving mother,
to exhilarating chats with my brilliant father;
from hectic shrieking with my lively sister,
to dinners together with laughter in the air;
from young cousins; caring aunts; fun uncles; warm grandparents,
whom I’m missing dearly on the other side of the world.
I am from Chinese culture–modern novels and celebrities; traditional dramas and histories,
the heritage and language I have learned to love;
from beautiful books–page after page; rumpled corners; creased edges; familiar words,
a river of comfort, welcoming me back;
from heavy hobbies–hours of math; failures at writing; mistakes in a guzheng piece,
but also the triumphs and joys and the fun of it all.
I am from heavy, dangling, shimmering memories,
pin upon pin of never-forgotten travels;
from two countries on opposite sides of the world,
a Chinese-born girl thriving in America;
from being responsible, hardworking, honest, and friendly,
yet still gullible, clumsy, obsessive, and loud.
I am from the past that I have inherited,
my traditions, my holidays, my culture, my language;
I am from the present that I am discovering,
my family, my friends, my hobbies, my home;
And I am from the future that I will soon build.
This is where I’m from.
I am from a basketball
From The Children’s place and Nike
I am from the home where I grew up in, cozy with the addition of the quiet sound of silence
I am from the green grass, the fresh blue sky that watches me from above
I’m from Eid and appreciation
From the love of my mother and the affection of my father
I’m from the long talking dinners and movie nights
From being told to work hard and focus on your goals
I’m from Islam, where peace is implemented
I’m from the poor country of Pakistan and the rich of Canada
From curry and naan to rice and chicken
From the scary stories told by my father late at night
To the soothing voice of my siblings as we laughed
From ending back to where I grew up staring at our family pictures in the gallery
Those are the moments I enjoy the most
By: Ammar Subzwari
I Am From
Owen Sibley
I am from fishing rods late at night,
From shiny spinners and purple paintballs.
I am from hilly streets and tall skylines, big and intricate, and the loud but relaxing sound of music.
I am from lavender plants, tall and wide.
I’m from turkey dinners around a fire, from caring and compassion.
I am from European descent.
From Natalie and Kyle.
I’m from jokes and cherryness.
From “ this too shall pass” and “ There’s always joy to be found each day”.
I’m from Sunday Church, big and loud.
I’m from a city of many landmarks, like great waterfalls.
I am from seasoned chicken, and seasoned tacos.
From messing around in stores.
I am from the funny traits of my Dad.
From gag gifts, stuffed animals, and fuzzy blankets, reminding me of past loved ones to comfort me.
I am from seasoned chicken, and seasoned tacos.
From messing around in stores.
I am from the funny traits of my Dad.
From gag gifts, stuffed animals, and fuzzy blankets, reminding me of past loved ones to comfort me.
Where I am From – by Jack Moyer
I am from our broken Xbox controllers. From CCM hockey and salt and vinegar chips.
I am from the 200-year-old logs and beautiful, lush green leaves that encase my entire house.
Every step makes a sound, every fork makes a scrape.
And from the taste of icicles on our door handle.
I am from our fruitful orchards.
From the cherry, peach, and plum trees that people buy or steal. From these trees that I would climb, only to see red, pink, orange, and green.
From early morning hockey games to a late-night movie, maybe two. From Seth Moyer and Levi Moyer
From the cherry pit fights we had, to hiding our Reece’s peanut butter cups at Christmas. Only for my dog to eat mine.
I was taught kindness and exalting others, but taking pride in what I accomplish.
I’m from the Christianity of my cousins but accept the atheism of my family. I’m from the 1530 bloodline, the Moyers.
From our big red cherries to our soft juicy peaches.
From the University of Yale that my brother fights for.
I am from our statue in our front yard. Not important because it is expensive, or pleasing, but for what it represents. It is two brothers, both having unidentified skin colours, helping one another to grab an apple that is too far for one to reach alone. They are working together equally, and one day, their work will pay off. To touch the statue, you do not need status or a certain religion. All you need is a goal; and using family and hard work, you can reach any apple.
I am the 350-year-old bible that my ancestors have stored inside the vault in our barn. This bible that they have given my family, and some day, will pass onto my grandchildren.
Kelly Herzog
I am from the marriage bed that offers me comfort and rest after a long day, from the passed down keepsakes of my mother and hers before, and my childrens favorite toys scattered about after a day of play.
I am from the modest home that brought a broken family together and nurtures healing and growth, where you can feel the warmth of love the moment you walk in its door.
I am from the sweet summer blackberries I teach my children how to carefully harvest. The Dandelions that grow in our yard that spread our wishes along the wind.
I am from not eating until the whole family is at the table and strong willed women.
I am from my free spirited and beautiful mother and my graceful grandmother, so full of class.
I’m from venturing outside at night to greet the moon, and lighting sage after the hard times for my son to cleanse the house, and from making truth and unconditional love the cornerstones of our daily lives.
I’m from whenever you see a full moon know that I am there with you in spirit long after I’m gone and from take care of business.
And from the sounds of classic rock as the backdrop of my childhood memories, I’m from the freedom to make up your own mind about the mysteries of life.
I’m from Sauvie Island and the riverbanks of the Columbia River and my mother and fathers home cooking, never able to put to rest who was the better cook even now a decade after they separated.
From the wild stories of my mother, running away from home and dating a biker and smuggling casino chips out of her work in her knee high leather boots. The turquoise jewelry and leather fringed jackets she passed down to me at 16, the treasures of 4 generations of women before my in the hope chest at the foot of my bed.
I Am From
Sopie Neang
I am from my thin blue blanket,
from pressing my face into the chilly fabric.
I am from fresh fruit,
From being bitter, sweet, and tangy.
I am from the picture perfect neighbourhood,
From being polished, noisy, busy thoroughfare.
I am from a night-blooming cereus,
A pure white flower that blooms once a night.
But also once a year.
I am from a killdeer,
From playing dumb and protecting my responsibilities.
I am from a blank canvas,
From slathering colours to create structure
To trial-and-error.
I am from “work hard play hard,”
From work-life balance to treating it as a cycle.
I am from old pictures,
From reminding old memories and missing my younger self.
I Am From Project 