I wish I could recall the first thing I wrote. I'm unsure how it happened, but I was always a writer and a reader. Though I believe I started as the latter. While other kids watched television, I read. I finished classwork early, which I did for the sole purpose of reading more. I remember a few journal entries about a girl who liked a boy, a story much like others; I doodled my alternate names often.
“Mrs. Jazmine Davidson”
“Mrs. Jazmine Churchill”
If I had to say the first story I ever wrote, I would tell you it was a trilogy about aliens attacking Earth. I wrote these stories with a boy named Isaiah. I loved his blue eyes and freckled face. I was in second grade, and most of the kids knew I was the daughter of a single father, and they made fun of me repeatedly.
Isaiah was the son of a single mother, and he understood. He would walk with me at recess when the other children decided they couldn't play with me due to my circumstances. I remember not telling my dad this was the case, just that my best friend Alexandra one day said to me, “My parents said I couldn't be friends with you because you only have a dad”.
I wondered what made me different other than having a mother who didn't want me or know my birthday. None of that mattered to Isaiah. He had ideas, and I could write them down. We took turns, talking swiftly between lesson plans and games of tag. He would write some lines and scribble them out, asking me to write them, he liked my hand writing. Our alliance went on for months, us scribbling frantically on these lined notebooks.
I remember we had a class field trip to a water slide Park, and it was the first time Isaiah held my hand. We rode rides together, and I felt brave with him on these rides. I remember his mom being so kind to me and my dad not being there because he had to work, and I missed him. Isaiah held my hand and gave me snacks, and it was one of the only times we didn't write anything. The next day at school, the characters in our story were to be married, an idea that I treasured and took to mean us.
I remember Isaiah moving away, and I'm unsure what happened to the trilogy then. I did make some new friends eventually, who didn't seem to mind I only had a dad. However, if I think about my first writing collaboration, I think of Isaiah and our trilogy. I'm curious of what became of that notebook, and if continued writing long after our alliance. Of course, I did, perhaps for the both of us.
About the Creator
Jazzy
Follow on IG @jazzygoncalves
Head of the Jazzy Writers Association (JWA) in partnership with the Vocal HWA chapter.
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Compelling and original writing
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Ice Ice Baby
I have no idea what this is going to be, other than a reaction to a student essay I graded this morning, a personal narrative about a day this summer when she, eight months pregnant, and her fiancé went to the laundromat on a Saturday morning. They were leaving when nine agents approached them, horse-collared her fiancé, cuffed him, and put him in a vehicle without allowing him to say goodbye to his pregnant fiancée.
By Harper Lewis3 days ago in Writers
Comments (14)
Like ships that pass in the night! I hope Isaiah kept writing! I hope people got kinder as you grew <3
I can't believe you were ostracised for something like that. I was raised by a single dad as well, and he did a pretty decent job of it IMO.
That is so cool that you were collaborating at such a young age in writing stories. That is really awesome. I’m so sorry that kids were so mean to you because you only had a father. That’s a horrible thing to say to a child. Thank you for sharing. 💚
I'm so sorry that happened to you! I get kids being mean but their parents? Whoaaa. People suck big time! I'm so happy you had Isaiah to keep you company.
Sweet stuff Jazzy! What a cute story! I loved this!
Great story! Enjoyed!
That story is so beautiful and heartwarming, it's wonderful when love/friendship are intertwined in the process of creation. It's better to have loved and lost! So good.
I wonder what happened to him and if he remembers those stories with as much enjoyment as you do. I loved this!
This was incredibly moving. I'm sorry you had to experience kids being unkind, and I'm very glad you found a friend and kindred spirit in Isaiah.
What a sad and yet incredibly story 🥺 You told it so beautifully…❤️👌✨
Such a gorgeous story of the connecting power of words. Beautiful story -Loved it! 🤍🤍🤍
I love that you and Isaiah connected because of writing and a similarity in upbringing.
This reminds me so much of me. My dad always said I was a "moody" kid. I could sit and ready for hours never thinking of going outside to play with my friends. I read Moby Dick in ONE day! That says something for my brain, doesn't it? My mom and her mom encouraged me to "tell stories". I was four. Mom was also teaching me "penmanship" so when I sort of perfected the printed letters, she had me write my stories. I never did know what happened to them.
I yearn for this type of connection even if things are platonic. These are the moments we all (hopefully) experienced growing up, but due to how society grooms boys and men, aren't able to fully allow moments like these to flourish and it's unfortunate. Unfortunately, boys and men can only reminisce about these moments rather than experience them in adulthood, and while that not be the case for every guy, I am sure most guys feel this way. For example, when guys talk about their best friend, rarely is it someone they have talked about in recent years; it's mostly stories like this where it's in their former years of adolescence.