Here we are: from many places…coming together.

Muhametzhanova Albina

14 years

From the city of Semey in Kazakhstan

I’m from…

I am from sketches

From Troxevasin ointment and Albeni chocolate bars

From clothes scattered about the room

(tiresome, crumpled, those that you have to put back into the closet every day)

I am from apple trees and white roses 

Whose aromas attract gazes and trigger reflexes  

I am their offspring, outwardly simple, but with a surprise within

I am from fresh bread and interrupted words

From, ‘Well, you are a girl” and “Mind your tone”

I am from sweet Easter and noisy toi (Kazakh word for ‘feast’) 

I am from great Semipalatinsk and modest Semey 

From fatty meat and shortbread biscuits 

From the heroism of my great-grandfather who reached Berlin 

From the saddle of my mother who went horse riding 

and from a

An old travel bag with a picture album inside – 

This is me, this is us in it.

I Am From

Ella Steele

I am from my T.Y. stuffed animals that used to come alive, from watching T.V. on my brown living room couch. 

I am from playing dress-up when all the clothes were too big, from laying in bed wishing I was a big kid. 

I am from scrapes on my knees from riding my pink and purple bike, from making bracelets all summer with my cousin and going on hikes.

I am from homemade backyard ice rinks and neighbourhood hangouts. I am from late nights with family and early morning vacations. 

I am from the warmth of my home, busy, crazy, but loving. From family dinners at my house, where we laughed the whole time. 

I am from my two big brothers, who taught me how to play hockey, and that time I got a black eye from a ball hockey ball. 

I am from my Nanny’s brick house where I ate dessert before dinner, from my aunties house where all I ate was sugar. 

I am from many cherished memories that I will remember always and forever. From loyal friends and a loving family.  

Ella

I Am From

Jordalyz

I am from a place where people dream big but dreams are never made. A place where you would think it’s nice but if you visited then you’d probably be traumatized. I’m from Rhode island. 

I’m from the taste of nasty pizza but good chinese food, The taste of big dreams but hard to accomplish. The taste of accomplishment but hard to make it anywhere. 

I’m from the room in my house where all I can do is dream about being a movie star but my second thoughts won’t let me become one.  Where I can dream and work hard but I feel like I won’t make it so I sleep it off. Where I act, act and act but feel like I’m not good enough. 

I’m from a place where love is a battlefield because one is looking for love but the other is cold-hearted. Where we are told being with someone makes our life fulfilled but sometimes just causes a good-old heartbreak. Where they know they’ve been cheated on but ignore it because it’s been a long time since they’ve been happy. Where the relationship is falling apart and is getting very sloppy. Where they don’t realize that love isn’t just a word and love can be a reason why people choose dying over living. 

I’m from a family who does nothing but bring positivity and negativity at the same time. Where you question their moves because they love each other but argue the next minute. When you ask “What the hell is going on” Everytime. I’m from a family who knows how to support, cherish and love you and your every move but can hurt you in a blink of an eye. Where we all wish for big things and try to accomplish it even though it may be hard. Where they all believe in different things but somehow don’t practice what they preach. 

I’m Jordalyz. I was born in Providence, Rhode Island but was mostly raised in New york. Where Rhode Island looks perfect on paper but not what you visioned when you come and see. Where it’s hard to accomplish your dreams no matter how hard you seek. Where one minute you’re happy but the next your heart sinks. 

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. 

Two new poems…miles apart, each with their own story…

I am From

Muhametzhanova Albina

14 years

From the city of Semey in Kazakhstan

I’m from…

I am from sketches

From Troxevasin ointment and Albeni chocolate bars

From clothes scattered about the room

(tiresome, crumpled, those that you have to put back into the closet every day)

I am from apple trees and white roses 

Whose aromas attract gazes and trigger reflexes  

I am their offspring, outwardly simple, but with a surprise within

I am from fresh bread and interrupted words

From, ‘Well, you are a girl” and “Mind your tone”

I am from sweet Easter and noisy toi (Kazakh word for ‘feast’) 

I am from great Semipalatinsk and modest Semey 

From fatty meat and shortbread biscuits 

From the heroism of my great-grandfather who reached Berlin 

From the saddle of my mother who went horse riding 

and from a

An old travel bag with a picture album inside – 

This is me, this is us in it.

I Am From

Ella Steele

I am from my T.Y. stuffed animals that used to come alive, from watching T.V. on my brown living room couch. 

I am from playing dress-up when all the clothes were too big, from laying in bed wishing I was a big kid. 

I am from scrapes on my knees from riding my pink and purple bike, from making bracelets all summer with my cousin and going on hikes.

I am from homemade backyard ice rinks and neighbourhood hangouts. I am from late nights with family and early morning vacations. 

I am from the warmth of my home, busy, crazy, but loving. From family dinners at my house, where we laughed the whole time. 

I am from my two big brothers, who taught me how to play hockey, and that time I got a black eye from a ball hockey ball. 

I am from my Nanny’s brick house where I ate dessert before dinner, from my aunties house where all I ate was sugar. 

I am from many cherished memories that I will remember always and forever. From loyal friends and a loving family.  

Ella

Today, from all over the country…and beyond…here are 10 I am From poems!

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. 

A collection from all over the world. Some in English, some combined and one in Ukranian. The reach of this group is wide and deep.

Yulisa Vargas Mejia

I am From

Soy de la tierra de los Estados Unidos 

De la sangre de mis ancestros Mexicanos 

From the overpowering heatwaves of Guadalajara

And from the coldness of Colorado 

From the great mountains to the hills of greens 

Soy de la pop music de la famous Ariana Grande 

To the ranchero de Grupo Firme 

Soy de el  inglés en la escuela 

To the Espanol  from my Abuelitas que sufrieron mucho  

Soy de la culture de las raíces de mis papas 

De la influencias de Los Estados Unidos 

Americana y Mexicana es lo quien soy

Y nunca lo olvidaré

Hi, my name is Addison Tuckwell.

 I created this poem for school and would like to share it.

Here is the poem:

I am from thinking I can’t.

From the pink teddy bear that I had since a baby

And the lion stuffed toy I stole from my brother.

I’m from worrying everyday and the life lessons from my mom.

I am from the usually quiet street I have always lived on,

And the school I wasn’t technically supposed to go to.

I’m from the Disney family I was born into

And my grandma’s pancakes that no one else can make taste as good.

From ice cream cake with the family and watching Star Wars.

I’m from reading all day, 

and my brother who taught me patience.

I am from failing and trying again.

From the chaos of my friends 

And the nickname “Add” that my parents always use.

I’m from “having one of those days,” and “stronger than you think.”

From reading “The Monster at The End of This Book” as a child,

And dreaming about the future.

I am from all my pets, past and present,

And decorating the Christmas tree.

I am from proving I can.

Where I’m From

  By Chloe Davis

I am from the orchestra performances,

  the flute by the easel,

  and the forever defective E key

I am from games with my siblings,

  from the righteous knight’s quest

  to the thieving vagabond 

I am from my granddad’s,

  from vanilla bean ice cream, 

  fried potatoes on the stove,

  the shells pressed into the driveway

  and our heights and hands autographed on the walls 

I am from the Big House and the Lake House,

  the Red Roof Inn and Dad’s Apartment. 

  From the peanut butter cookies 

  (ever so slightly burnt,

    yet always devoured).

I’m from shark’s teeth and seashells,

  from fossil hunts and sand in my shoes.

I’m from the driftwood forts and pirate swords,

  and the olive shells I collected for my mother. 

From the mosquito bites on my brother’s back 

  and the wasps in our yard. 

I’m from the tadpoles in the neighborhood creek,

  and the worms at the bus stop. 

I’m from knees scraped on the chalk-covered pavement,

  with bruises and bandaids, 

  and tears in my eyes. 

I’m from the road trips and RV rides,

From Pepper Tree and Aurora,

   to the Junk Shop and the Flea Market.

I’m from my Nana’s banana pudding, 

  from late night neapolitan ice cream with my dad,

  and the beach explorations after

From ghost crabs in the bathtub 

  to sand fiddlers wiggling out of my hands

From the kid’s table by the tree

  to “where are those twittering little birds?” 

I’m from “if nobody else”

  And “might as well be me”

From Southport and Fort Fisher 

  and Snow’s Cut, too

I am from the explorations I took, 

  and the ones I took for granted.

I am from the hospital visits I didn’t make

  and the one’s I will yet.

From my sister’s hugs

  and the conversations with my brothers

I am made from the ones I love

  the ones they love, 

  and the ones we’ve lost,

  and the ones I’ve never been able to know,

I will forever be grateful. 

“I Am From…” Poem by Roy Li

I am from a mechanical pencil,

From bike rides and video games, 

I am from tv shows and movies,

From the comfort of my home.

I am from tomatoes and green onions,

Both of which grow ripe and fresh,

Outside in the lush garden,

After a refreshing summer fall.

I am from special family dinners,

From steaming rice, savoury chicken, and crunchy shrimp,

To plump dumplings, long noodles, and simmering miso soup,

And lots and lots of vegetables.

I am from the blueberry fields out west,

So plump and sweet they are,

I remember picking them one by one,

From a farm out in the country.

I am from the smell of the morning dew,

I am from the smell of the night,

I am from the West,

I am from the East.

I am from family,

From parents, grandparents, and brother,

Like my Dad once said,

“Energy flows where attention goes.”

“Country Roads Take Me Home.” 
By: Mykenzie Bodekor 

I am from country roads.
Looking forward all you see is welcome to Culpeper and thousands of trees. 

Here no one locks a single door, so there is no need for keys. 

We have 10 chickens, 4 kittens, and 2 dogs 

and at night the only thing you hear are the loud frogs. 

Country roads take me home.

I am from country roads.

I’ve never met my biological dad.

It is not much of a loss if I must add.  

I have love from another

and gave me Liam, the most incredible little brother.

He loves me like his own

and I will forever call him dad because that is the role he has always shown.

Country roads take me home. 

I am from country roads.

I am a daughter of a three time cancer survivor.

Jennifer Anne Bodekor is my personal definition of a stiver.  

She is the reason I overuse the words I love you

and the reason I know how to tie my shoe.  

Country roads take me home 

I come from country roads.

I come from the Bodekor family; we believe in real love

like the kind you see in hallmark movies where there seems to always be a dove. 

We all wear our hearts on our sleeve, 

but Grandma Joan says it’s a good thing to achieve. 

Country roads take me home. 

Country roads take me home.

I come from a big family that loves me for me

and because of this I know it is exactly where I am supposed to be. 

No matter where I go 

or how old I grow…

Country roads will always take me home. 

Походжу від… (Джордж Елла Лайон) 

Походжу я від защіпок,

від Клороксу і тетрахлорметану,

та від багнюк на задньому подвір’ї

(чорні, лискучі,

на смак – як буряк)

Походжу від куща форзиції,

голландських в’язів –

давно віджилі ті кінцівки довгуваті,

пригадую – немов свої. 

Походжу від помадки й окулярів,

Від Аймоджена й Елафейра.

Від я-все-знаїв та здолай-це-все,

гартуй-свій-дух і стули-пельку.

Від тих, де Він очищує нам душу

ягнятка диском ватним

і десяти рядків, що знаю назубок.

Походжу від Артемуса та Гілки Біллі,

від смаженої кукурудзи і міцної кави, 

від пальця, що його позбувся дід мій,

до буру,

як заплющив очі тато – і зір зберіг. 

Під ліжечком у мене скринька для одежі,

світлини давні шкереберть

і сито втрачених облич

дрейфує нижче мрій моїх.

Я з тих хвилин –

зірвалася до плоті –

із дерева летить родинний листопад. 

Джордж Елла Лайон

                       Переклав українською Дмитро Чистяк

Sierra Isabella has sent a poem filled with color and dancing and food!

I Am From

Sierra Isabella

I am from

Cold rainy days wearing knitted sweaters so cozy it makes me sleepy

Wherever I turn my head I see  yellow, blue, and red 

Because it represents my country.

I am from

Waking up to the glorious smell of rice and beans with potatoes

 waiting for me to eat them.

Brown coffee beans smell strong but at the same time delicious.

I am from

Tan skin color with black hair and beautiful long lashes

Traditional dances light up my mood.

Women dancing in long colorful dresses with perfect embroidery

all handmaid with someone’s hard work

Tap, Tap, Tap goes the dancer’s shoes, and before I know it, I’m dancing too.

I am from 

Music with accordions, Acoustic guitars, and maracas.

When they all come together they sound like the perfect combo 

They make me want to sing along and smile.

I am from

 tall green mountains

Chickens, cows, and horses roaming all around.

Family welcoming me into their home

Even though it isn’t my home

They always make sure they make me feel like it is.