Olivia's Post

Whenever I hear people talking badly about people in a conversation that I am a part of, I usually defend that person that they are talking about. I'm over making fun of people, because I know what it feels like and it's not a good feeling. Most of the stuff people say isn't even true, and then other people hear it and they spread it around, and the whole story has turned completely upside down being tossed around from person to person. What I usually say is, "What's wrong with that person?" or "What have they ever done to you?" Usually the person on the other end just shrugs, because truely there is nothing wrong with the person, and most likely they haven't done anything to them. That person who talks about people and makes life miserable for another person, is just plain mean, and actually unhappy with themselves, so they have to put others down to make themselves feel better. When that person hears what's being said about them, this huge wave of all different emotions comes. Anger, sadness, confusion, and they don't know how to deal with them, and the think of getting revenge, but realize it's just not worth it.

Caroline's post

This past summer I traveled with a People2People program to Europe for three weeks, one of which was spent in Italy. While we were in Italy, we participated in a workshop about trust and confidence. After many group activities, there was a challenge that tested our new skills. Next thing I knew, I was standing on the roof of a 100ft. castle watchtower, which I was supposed to repel down. I was in the second to last group to go, and just watching the others fall off the tower onto nothing frightened me. Some people couldn’t do it and had to take the six or so flights of stairs down. When it was my turn, I promised myself I would do this and just held onto the rope as tight as possible. Soon as I was off the ledge, I realized that it was really fun.  Through this, I went out of my comfort zone enough to create a positive experience.  That was a moment I will never forget.

Zack's Post

I apologize that this is late. I guess that means that I am late. Since the moment you opened this page I have been late, and as you read this and I stress the point ad nauseum, I am late. But as soon as you leave the computer I will cease to be late and become something else. But that is only one of six billion different mes in existence at this moment, one for every person alive. To some of them I am someone real who they can picture in their heads. To all the rest though, I am faceless, or at least with a face not my own, and am little more than a statistic, one of six billion other nameless, faceless people. Each of us, in the small group now, pictures me differently. I can not say how everyone pictures me but I can draw up a version of myself. Tall and lean, no longer gangly, with long dark hair, I am often slightly stooped talking to shorter people but do not slouch, part of an inner pride and sense of equality if not superiority. Smart, both in long winded analytical abilities but also what one might call quick witted. Sense of humor aside, actually, especially in regard to humor, cynical to a fault, though I do try to conceal it around adults and teacher. With the cynicism I have no patients for stupidity or people who interrupt me to ask what a word I just used means. I do though read voraciously and have adopted a large vocabulary. I could go on, but this is far to long as it is, and I have started to think with a British accent (not good). So on that note: I am done being late.

Wendell's Post

Like Parker, I am me. I am a fourteen year old 9th grader. I like to play soccer and snowboard. I like to talk and hang out with my friends. There is only one me.

Anna

Like Tristan, I have been pondering this topic all week. For five or six days, I have been thinking about the question at hand, however the truth is, five or six days is not enough time to answer such a question. On a very basic level, I do know who I am. I'm very aware of my morals, my values, my wants and my needs. I'm nervous to get my letters of acceptance from boarding schools, I'm scared of the ending that is coming up for all of us faster than we like to admit, and I'm really hoping for a snow day tomorrow. On a grander scale, and I know that I think summer in New England more than anything in the world, and that love is the answer for every nearly question life will throw at us. However, there is another part of me I have yet to discover, a part of me that will remain in the depths of my soul for a long time. We all have an undiscovered section of our hearts, and I hope that I will one day be able to uncover the mystery that is Anna Holt. I hope to get to know myself.

Parker

I am Parker Verhoeff. I am 15 years old, I absolutely love music and sports. I play the drums, and I play lacrosse. I am me. I believe, that is what defines me. That's all you need, to answer a question like this. Everyone is trying to make this question more complicated than it has to be. I know who I am. I am a brother, a drummer, an athlete, an uncle, a cousin, a son, but most of all I am me.

Rashad's Post

Who am I? I'm Me. Who are you? You're not Me. I'm Me.

Tristan's Post!!

Who am I? This question has plagued me all week, and when I am forced to write an answer on Sunday afternoon, I still can't think of one that does justice to this question. Admittedly, I did write a speech on this (or the likes of). At long last, I have come to the conclusion that I am who you think I am. By "You" I don't mean some proverbial "you" referring to society grouped into one person, I mean you. The reader. You. This is only because you decide who I am to you, yourself. I may be a different person to him/her (okay, "him" doesn't refer to a single person.) People do what they do, but this doesn't make them who they are, it is how you perceive them that makes them who they are. Because you are the center of the universe as you perceive it, everything revolves around you (I am not being sarcastic), and all things are defined by you. I am who I am to myself, but that is irrelevant to you, the questioner.

Hannah's Post

Who am I? Well, I know that currently I am the girl who is best friends with her ipod, likes the Jonas Brothers despite what everyone else thinks and loves being with her friends and family. I know that tomorrow this may all change, and I am ok with that. I really don't know how much of myself I actually know and that is part of growing up. Actually, I can promise you that 20 years from now I still won't know myself and I i'll just have to accept it.

Who I am

I hate to sound repetitive by agreeing with everyone else how we don't know who we are, so I simply won't. I think the best way to describe myself is, "I am not you." We have all these labels for people, be them social status of jock, geek, psychotic, but even further is our names, serial codes that aren't even our preference. Maybe I wanted to be David. I'm not sure. But I do know that my label slapped onto my back says "KIMO GRAY: HANDEL WITH CAUTION." I'm an obnoxious, incongruous, equilibrating, dumb genius who's an aspiring virtuoso with his head in the clouds. Is that you? No. I didn't think so. Good day.