I truly believe everyone needs to find something to help them discover their identity and give them a sense of purpose, meaning and direction. For me . . . it just happened to be skateboarding. Skateboarding saved my life. It gave me the ability to express myself, connect to a passion and offer something unique back to the world. Now, as a professional, I travel the world, skateboarding and sharing my life story.
I’m still head-butting the wall, the difference is that now I’m fighting to keep the sport of skateboarding open to everyone and anyone—regardless of how good they are, what they look like or where they live. I want everyone to know that if they just believe in themselves and have a passion for the sport, anything is possible.
Mike Vallely
[EDITORS’ NOTE: To find out more about Mike, log on to www.mikevallely.com.]
The Idea
Getting an idea should be like sitting down on a pin. It should make you jump up and do something.
E. L. Simpson
When you’re in fifth grade, you’re pretty much into what is going on in your own world. Your friends, the sport you play or things you’re interested in seem to be all you think about.
But my fifth grade teacher thought that we should know more about what is going on outside our own lives. So each week, we would read articles from the newspaper about what was happening all around the world. Most of the time, I thought the articles were interesting, but none of them meant much to me, until the day that we read about Afghanistan and how the Taliban government had not allowed girls to go to school. When the Taliban lost their power, the girls were going to be able to get an education just like the boys did. Still, the boys and girls would not be able to go to school together, so they would need to have separate supplies for the girls.
Because the country had just been through a terrible war and things were pretty bad there, the country was too poor to get new school supplies. I wondered how those girls were going to go to school if they didn’t have basic things like pencils, paper, desks and books.
That same year, our school received new desks. The old ones were hauled out and put into storage, in case the school ever needed an old desk for anything. I thought that was a waste. That’s when I got the idea. If my school didn’t really need the desks, why not send them to the girls in Afghanistan?
When I told my idea to my teacher, she told me she wasn’t sure that could happen. Desks are very heavy and it would cost a lot to ship them.
So I told my stepmom about the old desks at my school and what I thought should be done with them. She loved the idea. She said it would take a lot to get the desks halfway around the world but she believed that with help from the right people, it could happen.
We began e-mailing organizations like the United Nations Children’s Fund (UNICEF) that works for children’s rights. We found out that UNICEF is really into making sure that girls around the world can get a good education. We were hoping that they would want to help. My stepmom’s friend Julie and some people that she worked with also helped us by e-mailing moving companies and shipping companies like UPS hoping that they would agree to ship the desks to Afghanistan. Even my brother got in on it and designed a T-shirt for the project, which I named “The Idea.”
Pretty soon, we got an e-mail back from UNICEF telling me that they liked my plan, but that it was still hard to get into Afghanistan because of the war. They said that they would try, though.
We also were contacted by a reporter from the New York Times who was on location in Afghanistan, covering the war. He e-mailed us, telling us all about what was going on in the area where we wanted the desks to go. Things were still pretty bad there. It made me feel even worse, knowing that the kids who lived there had to be so afraid all the time.
Knowing that UNICEF and others were going to try and help us find a way to get the desks overseas, we went to my school principal to ask if she could arrange to have the desks donated. She said she’d try. Then one day, she gave us the answer. It was yes!
A moving company said they’d let us use one of their big containers to ship the desks overseas. Then UPS said they would let us use a truck to get the desks to the container. So my stepmom, her friend, Julie, and other friends of ours came to help load the desks onto the UPS truck. It was hard to fit them all in, but we did it. The best part was getting to ride in the truck to the shipping container. There, we took all the desks off of the truck and put them into the container that would finally take them to Afghanistan. It was hard work, and we were all exhausted that night, but I felt good inside.
Then we learned that the desks would be sitting in the container for at least a few weeks. UNICEF still couldn’t get into Afghanistan because of the war.
While we were waiting to hear from UNICEF again, someone told us about some more desks that were just sitting in storage at a nearby college. We asked the college if they would donate them and they said yes. So we let UNICEF know about those desks, too. The next thing we heard was that there were schools down in Haiti and Jamaica that needed desks for their schoolchildren. So about fifty of those desks were shipped to help the kids there. I was happy that we were finally able to help someone—even if it wasn’t the girls that I had originally hoped to help.
Finally one day, UNICEF called to let us know that about one hundred of the desks that my school donated had made it into Afghanistan. It was an amazing feeling to know that I had accomplished something that many people thought could never happen.
All of a sudden, I began getting calls from organizations that wanted to give me awards for all I did to help the Afghani girls. I was nominated to receive the Clara Barton Red Cross Award and I was given a Humanitarian Award that was actually created in my honor from the Pop Warner Football League! I received a painting from the families in Jamaica that I had helped. Even George Bush, President of the United States, sent me a Student Service Award along with a pin and a letter telling me how proud he was of what I had done.
It was all very exciting and fun. But to me, the best part was imagining how happy the girls in Afghanistan were to finally have a desk of their own to sit at while they are in school.
Having that dream come true gave me a whole new thing to dream about. One day, I hope that I can go to Afghanistan to meet the girls that I helped. I may have to save up all of my allowance to do it, but just to see their smiles for myself will make it all worthwhile.
Sydney Milucky, thirteen
Deep Inside
Standing on the beach,
Sand between my toes,
What lies in my future?
Who will come and go?
The sun beams down upon me,
As I raise my head and look
At the vast ocean before me,
Its size, which I mistook.
I feel so insignificant,
Compared to this great expanse.
What difference can I make?
Will I even be given a chance?
I realize then while standing there,
That all I have to do,
Is listen to my heart,
And it will pull me through.
For strength and inspiration,
Are not material things,
They come from deep inside of you,
They give your soul its wings.
So whenever you’re in doubt,
And you begin to stray,
Take a look down deep inside,
And the answer will come your way.
If you only believe in yourself,
You can make your dreams come true,
For no one else can do it,
The power must come from you.
Stephanie Ives, fourteen
More Than I Had Dreamed Of
If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.
American Proverb
From the time I was seven, I had a dream of becoming a member of my school cabinet. I always admired my school leaders for taking responsibility for all of us. They gave instructions, condu
cted school activities, proudly wore their cabinet badges and carried our school flag for parades. They represented us and gave speeches on school issues. Our school cabinet members were our role models.
So, for the next few years, I dreamed—dreamed of being a leader. Dreamed of being the person addressing issues of students. Finding solutions. Making a difference.
Years flew by, and soon I was eligible to participate in the elections. When I was twelve, I entered my name as a junior member. I prepared my election speech and then, on the afternoon that we all gave our speeches, everybody voted. My close friends pledged their votes for me. I was hopeful and I prayed that I would win.
The next morning, we all assembled at the school grounds and our principal announced the results. I waited anxiously for my name to be announced. I was all set to fulfill my dream.
One by one, the names were announced and the whole school cheered as the girls with the highest votes walked up to the stage. I closed my eyes and waited for my name to be called. The last name was read and my name wasn’t among them. I was totally brokenhearted. My dream had been shattered, and I just wanted to run home and cry my heart out.
And then the reality struck that I hadn’t had a chance to win. I wasn’t well known, flamboyant or stylish. I wore braces and wasn’t too pretty. Girls across the school hardly knew me. I just did not have what it took to win a school election.
I was depressed because I had nurtured this dream for a long time. I went through something that a huge majority of preteens face—rejection. My whole world began to cave in and suddenly it seemed as if I had no friends.
As I cried in my room that evening, I suddenly took a deep breath and decided I was going to stop seeing myself as a failure. So what if I had lost an election? There were many more things in life to accomplish. I would work hard to make my dreams a reality. I wouldn’t stop dreaming.
It didn’t matter if I wore braces or if I wasn’t too pretty. That didn’t give me a reason to give up. I decided that I would stand for elections again in my final year at school—and I would win. I sat at my study table and began to write down my thoughts.
I recognized that my competitors had a lot of things in their favor. Their flamboyant personalities were their biggest strength. What were the points that would work in my favor? I had good grades, and I was friendly and helpful. And my biggest strength was the faith I had in myself to be a good leader. I would not allow my plain appearance or my braces to hold me back from putting my best foot forward. That evening, I began my election plans a whole year in advance.
First, I realized that I would have to work for each vote. Girls would have to get to know me as a person and recognize that I had the ability to represent them. I loved making friends and I liked being helpful, so I decided that perhaps I could use these qualities to work to my advantage. I began to make new friends and help them out in different ways. Slowly and steadily during the year, I made friends across the school. When my official campaign began, they helped drum up support for me.
In order to learn how to present a great election speech, I attended a course on effective public speaking. At twelve, I was the youngest participant in the course. By the time the election rolled around, I had a good speech and was well prepared as I delivered it with more confidence than I had the year before.
The day after the election took place, every minute seemed like an hour while I waited for the results. Would my efforts pay off? Would I accomplish my goal? Would I be one of the five senior school leaders?
During the assembly, when the principal announced, “Lin Rajan has been elected to the school cabinet with the second highest number of votes in the school,” the students cheered as I walked up to the stage. The joy on the faces of all my friends showed me that my victory was also their victory.
Suddenly, I realized that I had accomplished much more than I had dreamed of. The path I had chosen had given me more than the cabinet badge; I had made many new friends and had helped people along the way. I had won the acceptance and love of my schoolmates and they knew me as somebody who would stand by them. I was able to put a smile on their faces and brighten up their day.
I realized that just by being me and going for my dream, I had already made a difference.
Lin Rajan
“When I said, ‘If at first you don’t succeed, try, try
again,’ I wasn’t talking about video games.”
© W. M. Hoest Enterprises, Inc. All rights reserved.
Welcome to New Hope, Pennsylvania
Sometimes you gotta create what you want to be a part of.
Geri Weitzman
The idea actually came to me during my Harriet the Spy phase. I ran around town with my notebook and pen permanently glued to my hand, jotting down descriptions of “suspicious characters” and “fishy situations.” I wanted desperately to solve a crime . . . but instead, I wrote a book!
New Hope, Pennsylvania—my hometown and favorite place to spend a sunny Saturday afternoon. What’s not to love? Wacky toy stores, a mule barge, great food and gorgeous views of the historic Delaware River (the same one that George Washington crossed!). I saw all that New Hope had to offer, but it seemed to me that many other kids didn’t get the same opportunity. As I walked through our quaint town, I realized that the visitors were mostly adults. This disappointed me, because I knew that New Hope had great potential in the kid-friendly department. So, I decided to do something about it. My notebook of prospective cases became a guidebook of interesting places. I morphed from detective to investigative reporter, searching for the most kid-pleasing sites in the New Hope area. I wrote small segments about what made them so appealing and even interviewed our local town historian to include some interesting facts.
I borrowed my dad’s camera and began snapping away, capturing the essence of New Hope in photographs. Finally, when I had all of my information, I sat down at the computer and began formatting all of my writings and pictures inside brightly colored borders. I even created the cover using my own drawings of New Hope landmarks. I called it The Kid’s Guide to New Hope. I was thrilled at the product of my labors. I was so proud of my vibrant creation. But I wasn’t sure what to do next.
I submitted the book to many publishing companies, including the guidebook legend, Fodor’s. Everyone wrote back saying the book was incredible, but unfortunately, it wasn’t their type of book. I was starting to think that all of my efforts would end up unrewarded.
Then one day, my family and I were eating in a local restaurant and my book came up in a conversation with the manager. She thought it was a great idea, and being actively involved in town politics, asked me to give her a copy to present at the next town council meeting. I brought her the book the next day and she took it to the meeting. The response was incredible. The borough council wanted me to come to a meeting and share my book with the town! I even spoke in front of the mayor.
It was because of that experience that things really began to take off for The Kid’s Guide. I gained many mentors, such as Paul and Jan Witte, members of the community who wanted to lend me a hand. They started The Julia Fund, trying to raise enough money to self-publish the book. Another mentor, Nancy Wolfe, who was an author herself, talked to the local printing company she used to produce her books and was able to secure a discount for the printings. It was the spirit of New Hope at work. The entire town worked together to help me make my publishing dreams come true.
Soon, enough money had been raised to print thousands of copies of The Kid’s Guide to New Hope. And to top it all off, I became the owner and founder of Simply Kids Publishing. And I was only ten years old!
Next, I had to find stores that would be willing to sell the guides. I also had to be able to get them to be willing to sell them pretty inexpensively and not take much of a profit, because I wanted the books to be cost effective for kids. I went to Farley’s, the town bookstore, and they eagerly accepted my proposal. Books were also placed in the New Hope Library and in the Visit
or’s Center. But my big break came when the local Barnes & Noble said that they would carry The Kid’s Guide. They also asked me to hold a book signing. It was incredible!
That experience made me realize just how many other wannabe kid writers there probably were out there, so I began sending sample copies of the book to local schools. Many of the local school principals asked if I would come and talk about my experiences and give advice.
As the word spread about The Kid’s Guide to New Hope, our phone started to ring off the hook with requests for interviews with our newspapers. I even appeared on local television shows as a positive role model for other students. It’s no wonder that copies of the book flew off the shelves! I began to receive checks from the bookstores, and I made a profit on every book sold. I knew exactly what to do with the money. I donated almost all of the profit from the book sales directly back to town organizations such as the Chamber of Commerce, the local library, and the police and fire stations.
Earning money wasn’t my reason for writing The Kid’s Guide to New Hope. People started visiting New Hope . . . with their children. That’s what I had wanted to happen. Families were visiting our town once they realized how many exciting things there were for kids to see and do. New Hope was flourishing again, and that was the greatest reward I could ever have asked for.
Julia Yorks, fifteen
Better Off
In helping others, we shall help ourselves, for whatever good we give out completes the circle and comes back to us.
Flora Edwards
A lazy summer’s day found me cleaning out my room and sorting through boxes. I picked up a newspaper article that I had almost forgotten about—one my mom cut out for me to read. I began to throw it aside, but I started feeling uneasy. The article was about a local woman with two kids who had fled an abusive relationship where the man she lived with had flicked hot ravioli on her two-year-old child’s face, among other things. The woman’s job brought in barely enough to keep them living in a week-to-week hotel room. Her seventeen-year-old son worked a janitorial job after school to help prevent them from becoming homeless. The article said that the boy was in need of a jacket and some pants that fit his tall frame.
Chicken Soup for the Preteen Soul II Page 7