Fly on the Wall

[The following poem is an original composition. It doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with the conference- just something I thought I would post anyway.]

Radio

by Caroline Bishop

There are too many words

flowing backwards,

forwards,

falling from lips none the wiser.

Never chosen- just spilled from mouth to ear,

carelessly cast out to the daily clamor.

And yet I,

the washed up poet of nay-saying and has-beens,

envy such easy disposal of thought.

Had I the chance to speak,

not one of those words would seethe to the surface.

Just the same old thoughts would echo,

hackneyed, ricocheting

off the same worn walls.

Just the same old words would suspend in static,

despondent, anticipating

the perfectly tuned dial.

A day at the Newseum.

I love how there are people here who are so passionate and have a deep respect for their rights. Elsewhere in America I know they can be taken for granted and not truly exercised in a respectful way on a regular basis. But here, there are so many kids who want to express themselves, explore the truth, and find out what it means to them.

Of all the events and opportunities available to us at this conference, you would think that sleeping would be the crowd favorite.

Up at 5:15 A.M. Then it’s speaker, food, group, food, sight-seeing, group, food!, speaker(s)…the process repeats. Today, obviously stated, was only one day, yet it felt like four rolled into one. It was awesome- don’t get me wrong. But after all this craziness and scheduling you would think us kids would just want to crash. Some of us do. Others of us, present party included, stay up adding to our blogs.

Why is this you ask?

Yes, one reason is that we feel compelled to document in some way our experiences here at GMU. Many probably do so to fill the college credit.

But more than anything, I find the reason for staying up is avoiding sleep. Yes I’m exhausted from the day’s activites. Yes I would much rather be off dreaming. But instead, I sit typing away whatever floats out of my head- somewhat-poised, somewhat-slouched over in my provided desk/rocking chair, which seems to be going through an identity crisis. All of this in order to avoid the rock of a bed which awaits me and its just as back-pain-inducing cohort the pillow.

I’ll twist, I’ll turn, I’ll fetal-position, but all to no avail. If tonight has similar results, who knows, perhaps the floor’s a better advocate.

Sleep well?,

Caroline

• First impressions can be nerve-racking.
• Meeting tons of new people at once is an information overload.
• Keeping track of keycards, notepads, itineraries, and  your mind is a daunting task.

Yet every single one of us survived through this first day.

Whether it was by car or by plane, we finally arrived at George Mason University for the conference- suitcases, matching shirts, expectations, and all. We checked in, found our groups, and person after person, we repeated our one-line bio of name and state.

Though packed like sardines and hectic as hell, the first day is not of most interest. That title is reserved for the days ahead: the ones in which we finally may get to learn more than just names and places.

Then of course, the days ahead might be dead ones if none of us ever get any sleep. So here’s, not to the late nights not to the early wake-ups, but to the in-between-moments in which we finally have the chance to take a breathe and realize it’s those restless breathes that bring us the closest and count the most.

Good night guys,

Caroline