When I was 9 years old, I fell off the high monkey bars on top of one of my classmates. My teacher made me walk to the nurse. That night, I found out I had a separated bone and two fractures. Throughout my recovery, I did not receive one phone call, letter, a knock on the door or anything from a friend. I thought nothing of it. I just basked in the harmony of being able to miss a month of school; a month of Ramen noodles and Video games.
At 10, I had a realization. I didn’t have very many friends. Actually, I had one. And I didn’t like him. Every day after school, I would walk home, alone. I noticed the other kids walking together, laughing and having fun, but thought nothing of it. On Friday and Saturday nights, I would go out with my family, enjoy dinner and a movie. My parents set up play dates for me, but I was never interested in the same things these kids were. I didn’t have the social skills to build strong relationships with other people.
At 12, my parents sent me away to camp for four weeks during the summer. My brother had been going to camp for a few years, and just loved it. I didn’t know what to expect. Just finishing the 6th grade, I didn’t know much else than my family, school, Video Games and a few lousy friends. On the bus up to camp, I began to feel nervous. I had no video games no T.V., no parents and knew absolutely no one. I was more than nervous. I was terrified. The first day was rough. Everyone else had known each other for years.
Camp was the most amazing time of my life. I built stronger friendships that I had known possible and was more content sleeping in a wooden cabin with no electricity or air-conditioning than I had ever been.
Every year I go back to camp, I mature. I mature more in the month at camp than a year at home. At 17, I have a group of friends who I love and have been friends with for years now. I am not the antisocial Video Game fiend I once was. Given my age, I don’t know if I’ll be going back to camp this year. Either way, I owe it everything.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Justin Horwitz Creative writing personal narrative
Justin Horwitz
Creative Non-fiction
August 20, 12:43 p.m., what my mom wakes me up by saying:
“Justin, you need to think about continuing with rowing. You need to be involved with a sport this year.”
My response:
A murmured “no.”
My Moms counter:
“You loved rowing last year. You loved being involved in a sport. It will open up doors for you in terms of colleges and will give you a focus.”
12:45 p.m., pushing myself up from my bed so my back is positioned against the frame:
“I don’t want to row again this year mom. I’m out of shape, haven’t rowed all summer and want to just concentrate on school.
My mom’s irritated answer:
“You got the best grades when you were rowing Justin. It kept you focused on school and out of trouble. You know you’re going to regret your decision during the year. I’m gonna let you think about it for a few days, but I hope you’ll come to terms with yourself and decide to row. I know your out of shape and it will be tough to get back into it the first few weeks, but we both know you love rowing and you’re good at it. Talk to me in a few days after you’ve given it a bit of thought.
What I think to myself when I slip back under my covers in an attempt to go back to sleep:
It would be hell getting back into rowing. Saturday morning practices, Friday night practices and weekends away from my friends. But I did love it while I rowed. Regattas, being on the water every day and being needed by a team was a lot of fun. It would help me get into Wisconsin, my dream school, and my parents would give me close to unlimited freedom.
August 21, 2:45 p.m., email from my rowing coach:
Hey Justin, just checkin in on you to see how your summers going. I know you didn’t come to any of the optional workouts this summer and just wanted to let you know that tryouts are the 23rd and I’d love to see you there.
What I’m thinking when I read this email:
It’s not that I don’t want to row, it’s that summer is basically over and I don’t feel like busting my ass to get back in shape and compete. I don’t want to let my coach down though, so maybe I’ll just take a season off and row in the spring. After all, fall rowing is just preparation for spring. The weather’s warm and I want to be able to enjoy these last couple months before winter hits.
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