Missing Pieces of My Forever-Heart Read Online Free
Author: Janet Grosshandler
the local community college for high school students in communication arts: three weeks learning journalism and writing skills and three weeks learning graphic and artistic design like photography for newspapers and magazines. I think it would be good for you to enroll in it.” Sister M waited expectantly.
“Huh?” This was all I could come up with feeling so spent and empty from my cry and the realization at how ridiculously I had spent my year. “What are you talking about? I have to work. My parents would never let me do that.”
“I’ve already spoken with your mother. Her heart is breaking over what you’ve been doing to yourself and she will talk with you father about letting you attend.”
“Really? Really? You mean it? I am definitely interested. It sounds pretty cool.” Could this be my saving grace? Bless Sister M for caring enough to not let me go off the deep end.
“Take this brochure home to you parents. It’s not that expensive and I can recommend you for Admissions.” She held out a brightly colored pamphlet that said, Spend Your Summer Getting Ahead!
Definitely what I needed to turn things around. I raced home, gave my mother the brochure and the first hug in a long time, and started dreaming about summer college!
Two weeks later, I sat in Mrs. Brennan’s Journalism 101 for High School Students and began my new journey with words. She taught us first-person writing, third-person objective articles, slanting to persuade, opinion letters, fluff articles, human interest pieces. I was hooked. Five hours a day we wrote, eventually creating newspaper worthy articles that got published on the Asbury Park Press’ teen page. I had a byline! I was stoked!
Three weeks in the graphics workshop turned my world around 180 degrees. I got to use my very own semi-professional camera and combed the local streets taking snapshot after snapshot of people, places and things that were just slightly off center. The unusual, the challenging, the problems became the focus of my photographer’s eye and earned me high praise from my instructor, Mr. Pulsinelli. I guess the “marching to the beat of a different drummer” was still in my blood and turned up creatively in my photos.
Mr. P entered my photos in contests and submitted them to the local newspapers. By the end of the six weeks, I cried to leave these two mentors who transformed me into a writer with a byline and a photographer with published credits.
I finished out my summer cleaning motel rooms. Lena was gone, retired I guess, and I worked with a really nice lady named Lilly who treated me like her daughter. I moved into an attitude of thankfulness that without Sister M, my parents, my workshop instructors and Lilly’s friendship, I would not have been able to save myself that summer.
I grew in confidence because I saw that I could change- that it’s never too late to redeem myself and make my life better and happier all by myself. I learned to depend on my talents, my abilities and ME and started to shine a light like never before. It was better than all the drinking and fake stuff I tried to find my happiness in.
And I was happy. I’m the one who did it too. I didn’t need Jame to make me happy. I was gonna be all right!
I returned to OLOS with a junior year “Cath’s Excellence Plan”:
Buckle down in my academic classes to get into a good journalism college.
Wear my new studious-looking glasses more so teachers and fellow students would take me seriously after my wasted sophomore year.
No dating anyone. I was a journalist and photographer now, not someone’s drunken bimbo.
Make friends with Maddie and the “good girls” again and lose my party girl rep.
Submit articles and photos to all the local newspapers and magazines. I didn’t care about earning any money for it, just wanted to collect the bylines and photo
“Huh?” This was all I could come up with feeling so spent and empty from my cry and the realization at how ridiculously I had spent my year. “What are you talking about? I have to work. My parents would never let me do that.”
“I’ve already spoken with your mother. Her heart is breaking over what you’ve been doing to yourself and she will talk with you father about letting you attend.”
“Really? Really? You mean it? I am definitely interested. It sounds pretty cool.” Could this be my saving grace? Bless Sister M for caring enough to not let me go off the deep end.
“Take this brochure home to you parents. It’s not that expensive and I can recommend you for Admissions.” She held out a brightly colored pamphlet that said, Spend Your Summer Getting Ahead!
Definitely what I needed to turn things around. I raced home, gave my mother the brochure and the first hug in a long time, and started dreaming about summer college!
Two weeks later, I sat in Mrs. Brennan’s Journalism 101 for High School Students and began my new journey with words. She taught us first-person writing, third-person objective articles, slanting to persuade, opinion letters, fluff articles, human interest pieces. I was hooked. Five hours a day we wrote, eventually creating newspaper worthy articles that got published on the Asbury Park Press’ teen page. I had a byline! I was stoked!
Three weeks in the graphics workshop turned my world around 180 degrees. I got to use my very own semi-professional camera and combed the local streets taking snapshot after snapshot of people, places and things that were just slightly off center. The unusual, the challenging, the problems became the focus of my photographer’s eye and earned me high praise from my instructor, Mr. Pulsinelli. I guess the “marching to the beat of a different drummer” was still in my blood and turned up creatively in my photos.
Mr. P entered my photos in contests and submitted them to the local newspapers. By the end of the six weeks, I cried to leave these two mentors who transformed me into a writer with a byline and a photographer with published credits.
I finished out my summer cleaning motel rooms. Lena was gone, retired I guess, and I worked with a really nice lady named Lilly who treated me like her daughter. I moved into an attitude of thankfulness that without Sister M, my parents, my workshop instructors and Lilly’s friendship, I would not have been able to save myself that summer.
I grew in confidence because I saw that I could change- that it’s never too late to redeem myself and make my life better and happier all by myself. I learned to depend on my talents, my abilities and ME and started to shine a light like never before. It was better than all the drinking and fake stuff I tried to find my happiness in.
And I was happy. I’m the one who did it too. I didn’t need Jame to make me happy. I was gonna be all right!
I returned to OLOS with a junior year “Cath’s Excellence Plan”:
Buckle down in my academic classes to get into a good journalism college.
Wear my new studious-looking glasses more so teachers and fellow students would take me seriously after my wasted sophomore year.
No dating anyone. I was a journalist and photographer now, not someone’s drunken bimbo.
Make friends with Maddie and the “good girls” again and lose my party girl rep.
Submit articles and photos to all the local newspapers and magazines. I didn’t care about earning any money for it, just wanted to collect the bylines and photo
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