By Allison Stein
Words help me negotiate emotions and navigate challenges. I hope you enjoy the poem “Torn,” a tribute to anyone who has ever wondered where her heart belongs or why it beats.
Torn Sixteen birthday candles A crossroads Two directions One heart Sixteen regrets One heart Wrestling with two wishes Beating with two rhythms Sixteen fears One heart Propelled by two promises Driven by two dreams Sixteen hopes One heart Split between two souls Torn between two worlds
By Allison Stein
“Life is short. There is no time to leave important words unsaid.” The message of Paulo Coelho penetrates my heart as I taste again my greatest regret—silence. Some say silence is a sound, or the absence of sound. But no, silence is a feeling. It was the empty feeling of never knowing how far my voice and my courage could take me. It was the hollow emotion I could not be free from until I picked up a pencil and spoke from my soul. And it was the reason I dedicated my life to the goal of setting someone else free.
My goal was to make a difference to somebody, somewhere. Just one person. Just one person who needed to hear what I needed to say. Through my writing, I could finally speak, and I wanted to show others that they, too, had causes to advocate and voices to make heard. I wanted to teach them the lesson I had ultimately learned—that our words liberate us from the emotional vacancy of silence.
At age 10, I took a chance on my words for the first time. Immersed in my passion for journalism, I submitted a story to Amazing Kids! Magazine, an online nonprofit with the mission of inspiring kids to write. While the editors rejected this initial effort, I found through the publication a sense of community and compassion. Here was a group of editors willing to invest time in nurturing talent. This was a mission I came to be part of.
Twelve months later, I had accumulated acceptances and was offered a position as a contributing writer. For the next three years, I learned about grammar and word choice and sentence structure—but most importantly, I learned to write honestly. I learned to let myself be vulnerable, and I learned to be proud of the inner strength it took to break down those emotional walls I had spent years building. To finally let the world in was to find a place and purpose within that world.
I accepted the opportunity to serve as a column editor shortly after my fifteenth birthday. The experience was full of small miracles, but the most special moment came unexpectedly, when a young author whose work I had recently agreed to publish wrote me a heartfelt thank-you. This stranger let me know that his teachers were proud and his father cried tears of joy upon reading the acceptance email. That memory is a gift.
Eight years have passed since I gingerly composed that first submission to Amazing Kids! Magazine. Last spring, I transitioned into the position of editorial advisor. I have spent the time between then and now living and learning—each and every day—what I want to take away from my life, what I have to give, and why I need to speak. Above all, I have solidified in my heart my deepest dream as an aspiring journalist: I still live to make a difference, one person at a time.
By Allison Stein
When I reflect on memories from friendships past, I find that people have changed me, experiences have shaped me, and words have saved me. My poem “Condemned to Remember” is about love and lessons, about what it means to reminisce innocence.
Condemned to Remember I still remember that autumn evening a decade ago. We sat side by side in the crisp air and witnessed the first snow. While pure flakes danced in the fuchsia sunshine above, You whispered a promise for a miracle called love. But as the years pass, our destiny dissolves—disappears; Our broken hope suspends me in a paralysis of tears. I incessantly wrestle with that moment of watching the frost, Fight for the faith I have long ago lost. I look back on those years and see them as they are, Can’t imagine those memories reduced to a scar. As fantasy twists to truth, I wield a pain too heavy to bear; I can only watch as each of our daydreams turns to a lurid nightmare. Regrets have hung over me like icicles since we’ve been apart; Yesterday’s echoes haunt my soul—intoxicate my heart. I won’t accept that our miracle has shattered at last— Can’t escape the forceful lure of the past. Before, I grasped faith that friendship was forever— Trusted that fate tied our spirits together— But now I reminisce our painful good-bye And try to believe love is more than a lie. In these ten years, I’ve never forgotten the crystal snow; Alas, I wonder if a soul could ever let go Of that surreal evening in frozen November— That dreamless night I’m condemned to remember.
By Allison Stein
Words on the page, arranged in stanzas and aligned with patterns, challenge my mind and change my heart. I have learned that poetry is not an object but an action, a multifaceted experience which has sparked the evolution of my identity. Writing in rhythm represents an opportunity for self-expression, the reminder to appreciate details, the gift of a different perspective, and a chance to impact others.
A blank piece of paper is a canvas for the colors of my heart. Words express my aspirations and dreams, contemplations and hopes. Perhaps poetry serves as a container, an encapsulation of something greater than the sum of its parts. Or, perhaps poetry transcends the concept of self altogether—in its valiant search for the universal—yet paradoxically conveys what I otherwise cannot.
Poetry encourages me to savor the small moments. Techniques of simile, metaphor, and personification require clarity—precision of description—which may be derived and achieved only from focused attention to the world around me. Such transient miracles as changing sky lights, shifting skips of the heartbeat, and ephemeral beauty of autumn leaves reflect the simultaneous worth and impermanence of each fleeting moment.
Although poetry wields the power to sharpen my focus, it also encompasses the potential to enlarge my vision. Adventures I undertake through the written word allow me to explore innovative worldviews and undiscovered paths. By experimenting with, or adopting, a different perspective, I find new answers to that fundamental question Who am I? This opportunity to experience life through the eyes of another influences my outlook in a meaningful way.
A poem is not a moment but an echo, a gray-lead sketch of my soul written for someone else. Words gift me with the privilege to touch another set of heartstrings, whether in a minute’s epiphany or an eternity’s journey. As I translate emotions to ink, I keep in mind that the act transcends the moment.
I write poetry because the rhythm in my heart spills onto paper. I write poetry because words grant me expression, focus, perspective, and legacy. I write poetry because it is messy art and messier emotion, and because it is necessary.
By Allison Stein
Inspiration arises from a variety of experiences, ideas, and emotions. In the below excerpt from my creative writing notebook, a childhood photograph sparked my contemplation about identity and the evolution of self. Enjoy!
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Translucent blue eyes, crystallized in a time-faded photo, blaze urgently into my own. My adolescent fingertips clear the surface of this forgotten childhood image, unsettling the dust. Ten years ago, I embodied the silhouette of this little girl, my body, too, absorbed in rose-dawn winter sunlight. On the elementary school playground, my mitten-covered hands enveloped the frosty metal of swing set chains whose oblong squares funneled light into shape.
In a single fleeting moment, I imagine the photo to be a portal—a means of return—yet, too, I understand the limits of my naïve dream. Images preserve but do not resurrect. Retrospect, then, is an unfriendly place. It gives one the intuitive apprehension that certain versions of selves have become inaccessible through age or experience, or perhaps through the simultaneous progression of both.
Never again will I be eight years old—a lover of height and wind and fear. Truth is, each of us has cold dreams buried beneath playground woodchips.
Today I am 18 years of age, a messy amalgamation of young and old. I stand at some undefinable crossroads of everything—torn between truth and lies, tears and strength. They tell me, press forward. They tell me, move on, let go, grow up. But my life is locked within that dusty photo, its blurred pixels rendering colors indistinguishable.
By Allison Stein
Poetry allows me to explore and understand my emotions through metaphor, clarifying the initially indecipherable words etched across my soul. I wrote “Faith Is a Constellation” with the intention to articulate my personal truth, as well as to shed light on what is beautifully universal.
Faith Is a Constellation Love is the moon Tugging the anchor of gravity, Propelling the tides of our heartstrings. Fear is a black hole Devouring golden dreams That disintegrate like stardust. Courage is a shadow, The light burning behind darkness, A single breath frozen in time. Hope is an echo, A voice within us, A whisper woven into the tapestry of prayer. A faith—faith is a constellation: God shows us the stars, But only He knows how they connect.
By Allison Stein
Below is the speech I delivered at my high school graduation ceremony this spring. I hope my words inspire you to share your heart and chase your dreams!
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Fellow graduates, I am honored to speak at our commencement this afternoon. On behalf of the Class of 2018, I would like to thank our families, friends, and teachers for gathering today to exchange memories and celebrate accomplishments.
Our education here at Harbor Beach High School has empowered us with the skills to excel. Involvement in class projects and extracurricular activities has nurtured our curiosity, sparked our interest, and inspired our aspirations. However, I would argue that the greatest lessons learned have transcended textbooks. We have learned about ourselves, about our individual gifts, and about the ways those unique traits and talents can positively influence other people. Most importantly, we have chosen extraordinary dreams, discovered what we want from this life and what is within that we may give to it.
My senior quote is, “The greatest risk any of us will take is to be seen as we are.” Although the words of Cinderella may seem simplistic, they serve to tell my story, rejecting the adolescent fallacy that success and happiness are universally construed definitions. In truth, we all follow different values, different priorities, different passions, and different callings; and we have to honor whatever it is that aligns with our hearts’ vision. It is in expressing those ideas and accepting our vulnerability that we penetrate another mind, impact another life, or touch another soul.
When I was 13 years old, I wanted to hide my light. Today I am 18, and all I want is to illuminate the world.
I still remember the moment I took a hard look in the mirror—as if I could somehow glimpse my soul in the iridescent glass—and asked myself whose life I was living. Within me, I knew, was the drive to create, to inspire, to innovate. Within me was potential. Within me was the kind of heart that does not beat to chase ordinary dreams.
While my gaze penetrated my reflection, I wrestled with unrealized potential. As a young writer, I found myself immersed in dreams that were beautiful and complicated and hard. I envisioned a published book—the chance to share with the world what was within—yet I was afraid to be vulnerable, to be seen. Then a middle school student, I sought my peers’ approval. Validation mattered. What if being myself meant being alone? What if the passion that set me apart barred me from fitting in? One by one, the fears flashed through my mind. I was torn between conforming and creating—split between acceptance and innovation. I almost wished for ordinary dreams.
To me, the enigma of my life’s meaning could be simplified to the choice between two regrets: Action was a risk, but so, too, was inaction. When I reached the end of my days, would I rather regret living too hard or not living enough? In the answer, I found a new sense of urgency. Perhaps innovation was a blessing, perhaps a curse, but in any respect, I came to believe it was a responsibility. As a citizen of the world, I enjoyed the opportunity to allow others’ gifts to touch me, to enlighten or elevate or empower. Who was I to contribute no talent in return? Who was I to be afraid?
It was not until I held a published copy of my poetry collection in my hands months later that I realized the project had transcended the scope of my vision. As planned, the process of creating my first book had been an immersive exploration of self, in which I had invested my heart in articulating complex emotions with the simple click of a keyboard. However, beyond my expectations, I had also come upon the opportunity to reach other minds and touch other souls. In my words, I was no longer alone. Writing was a medium not for alienation but for understanding.
Five years later, to innovate with words remains my greatest dream. Now a graduating senior, I recently released my third book with the intention not only to find my potential but to inspire other people to discover theirs. After reading those pages upon which I had impressed my heart, a friend told me that my words gave her hope. I know I will never again hide the smoke of the passionate fire burning inside my soul, for within me is a gift. Within me is the kind of heart that does not beat to chase ordinary dreams.
2018 graduates, our moment has come to not only honor but embrace whatever it is that aligns with our hearts’ vision. If there is someone in your life who has helped you arrive at this moment and supported your journey, I hope you take the time today to say thank you.
I would like to offer special acknowledgement to my parents, David and Janis, as well as my sister, Katelyn, for teaching me to navigate my life path independent of others’ expectations. Growing up, I recall my parents’ frequent advice to Katie and me: “Remember who you are. You don’t do what everyone else is doing. You do what’s right.”
On behalf of the Class of 2018, I also want to thank our teachers, administrators, kitchen staff, custodial workers, and other faculty members for their contributions to Harbor Beach High School. In particular, I extend sincere appreciation to my English teacher, Mrs. Hessling, and my principal, Mr. Bulgrien, whose validation of my dreams has changed my life. We are lucky for the people who give us a chance to shine.
Fellow graduates, it has been a pleasure. As we chase different dreams and pursue different directions, I would like to leave you with the words of one of my poems, entitled “To Be Seen.”
We want to be wanted, So we let them have our souls. We want to be valued, So we forget our self-worth. We want to be accepted, So we wrap our life around a lie. We want to be understood, So we learn to speak their language. We want to be loved, So we break our own hearts. But sometimes, When the fear fades away, When we find our place And find our light, All we want Is to be seen.
Thank you, Class of 2018, and all the best in our future!
By Allison Stein
Have you ever considered the importance of defining your personal vision? To live intentionally, it is essential to articulate your goals and dreams and to honor those aspirations in your daily actions. Below is my mission statement as a beginning writer:
“With my God-given talents, I aspire to extend my outreach to strangers in a positive, meaningful, and long-lasting way. I hope to earn a living as an author and editor and, in the process, to earn the opportunity to influence my community and world. Driven by my interest in purposeful self-expression, I intend to develop reflective work and to share those insights with an audience. Telling stories is the medium through which I encapsulate ideas, empower action, and inspire hope; and I am passionately compelled to pursue challenging dreams. In the future, I desire to achieve an occupation that allows me to think critically and create imaginatively, to ask questions and offer answers, to live in accordance with my values and to accept the evolution of my identity with new experiences. I will be strong. I will be resilient. I will be motivated. I will be kind. I will be genuine. I will choose my outcome before my action, not the other way around. I will overcome my fear of inadequacy and live in the absence of self-imposed limitations. I will overcome my avoidance of vulnerability and find the courage to be seen. Perhaps one day I will overcome the ephemeral nature of humanity and write my legacy indelibly on the paper of other people’s hearts.”
By Allison Stein
When I struggle to make sense of an experience, writing about its impact often provides me with true clarity and comprehension. I would like to share my poem “The Stain of Memories” as an example of a piece in which I have allowed my thoughts to unravel and my heart to speak.
The Stain of Memories This is the fight I've lost. This is the dream that's escaped my grasp. This is the twilight that's smothered me. These are the waters I've drowned in. I miss the ebb and flow of our friendship, The current that propelled my heart, Whispers of our fearless faith Amplified in the orchestra of the ocean. If I could withstand the weight of gravity, I would forget you: Chalked on a violet canvas, The moon would move my paralyzed soul With the same force that gives motion to tides. As cleansing waves kissed the shore, Whitecaps would wash away our footsteps, Caress the pain of my regret, Erase the stain of memories.
By Allison Stein
In journalizing ideas and experiences, I capture my passion for the act and craft of writing. I dare to inquire, In what ways do words shape our perceptions of society, as well as our place within the world? How does self-expression liberate us from our silence?
I hope you enjoy the below quotations as glimpses of my writing journey…
Since childhood, I have immersed myself in language, creating universes from simple strokes of lead. Stories have inspired me my entire life, and I am finally finding the courage to tell my own.
