OUTSIDE IN: Letters to Strangers on the Inside

Outside In

Letters to Strangers on the Inside

From:

Senior English Students,
The Prairie School

To:

ACE Participants,
Racine County Juvenile Detention Center

 
 
 
 

Letters Come to Prison

Jimmy Santiago Baca
1976, Arizona State Prison-Florence, Florence, Arizona

From the cold hands of guards
Flocks of white doves

Handed to us through the bars,
Our hands like nests hold them

As we unfold the wings
They crash upward through
Layers of ice around our hearts,

Cracking crisply
As we leave our shells
And fly over the waves of fresh words,
Gliding softly on top of the world
Flapping our wings for the lost horizon.

Dear ACE Students­​­

You and I are strangers. My students and you are strangers. But, inspired by Jimmy Santiago
Baca’s poem about the joy of receiving letters while incarcerated, my students greet you with
messages in the forms of letters, poems, and sometimes something in between.

I “unwrote” Baca’s poem, borrowed 27 words from it, mixed them up, and invited my students to
write a letter/poem to a stranger​­­i​n particular, you​­­u​sing as many of Baca’s words as they liked.
You will find the result within these pages. First the words were Baca’s, then my students’​­­and 
now they are yours.  I​take that back: the words weren’t originally Baca’s. They’re not ours. The
words belong to n​o one.​They belong to ​all ​of us, no matter who we are, no matter our past, no
matter our future. So how y​ou​use them is up to you. Here they are:

shell crack white
wave world dove
glide lost bar
soft glide nest
cold crash hold
hand upward unfold
leave through heart
top layer guard
wing flock
ice

If you don’t write back to us, then know that we send you positive energy and strength for the
future. If y​ou’d like to use the words to write back to us, we would welcome them back.

Enjoy these letters and poems. I think they reveal that we are not that unlike each other.

Sincerely­​­

Dominic Inouye
English Teacher
The Prairie School
Racine, Wisconsin

Dear Stranger­​­

Take my hand.

Is that so strange? I don’t know you, but what’s the harm in taking the hand of someone one
doesn’t know. They say that the lives of children who grow up with human contact are more likely
to unfold with compassion, to glide like doves with hearts unguarded. Why does that softness have
to end in childhood?

Did you have that? I hope so. Or did you see it happening to everyone but you? If it’s the latter,
then take my hand.

One of the most thrilling sensations I had as a child was laying my head in my mother’s lap so that
she could comb her fingers through my hair, graze her palms on the back of my neck. What
sensation thrilled you the most? What still thrills? For what do you long?

If you found a shell on the beach or in the alley behind your house or the on rocky shore of your
mind, would you open it? Would you pry it open gently with your soft fingers, or wing upwards
above the cloud layer and drop it to the cold, hard earth to crack it open? What would you want to
find?

If you found my hand, a firm handshake, a comforting grasp, would you withdraw, or embrace it
like a wave embraces the rocks on the shore?

These words are a hand for you to hold in yours.

Sincerely​­­

Dominic

Hi, there­​­

You know how people always say it's a small world after all? Come to think of it, I don't know if
that's really true.

Now that my senior year is coming to a close and important decisions start to unfold, I'd love to say
that I feel ready to leave the nest and glide toward a new stage of my life, but I would be lying if I
didn't admit that I'm scared to venture into the vastness of the world. I've never liked Racine,
especially in the dead of winter when it’s cold and gloomy and the only sight available is an endless
white layer of ice on the horizon, yet as much as I complain about living in Racine, something holds
me back. I look back on all the things I've been through, the ups and downs that have helped shape
the person that I am today, and I’m now starting to come to terms with the fact that the people I’ve
met and cared for at school are about to flock to different places all over the country. It's hard not to
feel lost in a situation like this, particularly because while so many of my classmates have already
decided where they're headed, I have yet to find out. Now that my older brothers have set the bar
with their college careers, I feel like there are high expectations of me going into this experience​­­
how am I supposed to sit back and relax with all this weight on my shoulders? Though the waiting
makes me all fidgety, if there's something I've come to realize during these last few months it's how
difficult it is to control our future. Sure, we all make our own choices, but more often than not
things don't necessarily play out on our favor, which it’s why it’s important to adapt to all kinds of
situations, to make the most with what we already have, and to have a positive outlook on the
future.

Leaving for college means that I will not get my old life in Racine back, just as you may not get your
previous life back, but maybe that's for the better. As scary as it may be to look into an inevitable,
uncertain future in such a huge world, it's important to remind ourselves of all the good things that
the future has in store. Everything will be okay.

­­A​nonymous

Dear Stranger­​­

I do not know you. I have never met you, and I probably never will.

Our worlds have probably glided towards and away from each others’ many times but never have
come into contact.

I often wonder how many different people I come into contact with who I never realize. Sometimes
we wave as some people pass by. Sometimes we guard ourselves from those who seem dangerous.
Sometimes we crash into people accidently.

Whatever happens, though, our separate worlds move through as life unfolds and we never really
stop to think about other people. Today I am stopping to think about you.

I am curious about your life and your story. I want to see into your world, to crack the shell and
learn about someone else layer by layer.

What makes you excited? What are you most passionate about? What will you do once you leave
your detention center?

These questions might seem weird or cold coming from a stranger, or they might seem comforting
like a nest to a baby dove. Either way, they are important questions to be asked because they remind
us all that we are all together a flock of people in a world together. We sometimes forget this when
we think we are in our own world.

­­A​nonymous

You do not know who I am, nor I you. We are nothing but strangers, yet I feel for you. I wonder
what is going on through your life. Whether you feel lost in this giant lonely world. Whether you
feel the comfort of someone's hold and whether you feel on top of the world or feel like you are
crashing to the bottom of it.

You may be asking, "Who the fuck wrote this? Who cares about my life?" My name is not
important, because right now I am telling you that I (a stranger) care about your life. That I know
what it feels like to feel cold and heartbroken. You may feel as if everyone is against you, you may
trust no one, you may open up to no one so as to not get hurt so you stay in the safe and secure nest
of your mind. I am not here to have you unfold in front of me, I am not here to change you. I am
here to simply tell you that I care. That I will not leave you if you ever need me. That I will not give
up and I will show you how much you mean to everyone and to this world and that you do not
have to put your guard up and shut everyone out. I don't know your life; it's up to you to trust me
enough to tell me. You might have been told that you are unwanted and useless and a disgrace. Use
those words to become stronger. Learn from them, and prove to others that you are much more
than that, that you are stronger than those that used those weak words on you. It is then that you
will be happier and once again on top of the world.

I wish you luck, stranger.

­­​Anonymous

Dear Stranger­​­

Just remain positive and always have heart. Don't let your current situation crack your shell. The
world is an amazing place if you think positively. Everything will be alright. Don't get lost in the
sauce. You just need to plow through all of your problems carrying a smile on your face. I do this
every day. Being an African American in this world is not the easiest thing, but I remain positive
and try to block out all of my problems. My father always tells me that no matter what happens,
always remain positive. Just let your wings out and glide through life like a flock of geese.

­­A​nonymous

Dear friend​­­

Hello, nice to meet you. How are you doing? I hope you are doing well. Isn't it so amazing writing a
letter to a person even though we didn't meet and know each other before? Anyway, I hope you
have an unfolded attitude on this communication. I know your environment and situation are very
different from mine, but we can share our story with each other and be a good friend to each other.

I really like to encourage you. Now you are in the unusual circumstance which might be much
colder than your soft nest, but don’t be too frustrated. Remember that you won’t be there forever.
You can leave the place soon or someday. It is not a big crash. You know it is only a little crack on
your life. Your life is not broken up, and still you have great value in you. Everyone commits a lot of
mistakes in his or her lifetime. Anybody can go to a jail or prison when they do a wrong action
during their lifetime. So, no one is justified to condemn the other person’s mistakes. Also, the world
cannot judge you just watching your shell.

You are young and you have infinite potential inside of you. If you’re are a dove, now you are taking
break by folding your wings. You can glide upward through the sky with your wings anytime. Be
brave! So many people around you bless you, cheer you, and support you. We are ready to give our
hands to you with warm hearts. Just hold our hands.

Have a nice rest of days!

Good bye.

­­A​nonymous

To you­​­

I am writing to you from a place of privilege, where hearts are soft, warm, and unguarded.
Wherever you are, I want you to know that I am aware of this privilege, that I am grateful for it,
and that you deserve all of the same opportunities and privileges that I have. Should I assume you
don’t care about what I’m writing about because of this fact? I would hope not, but I understand if
you feel that way. My main goal for this letter is for you to read it, realize that I do not want to
sound pretentious, and maybe even crack a small smile.

So, take my hand. Metaphorically, of course; we are not in the same room or even in the same part
of the city perhaps, but take it nonetheless. This letter, to whoever you are, is me simply
outstretching my hand to you so you can choose whether or not you want to hold it. You definitely
have a choice in the matter; I won’t force you to take it. You could rip this letter up, throw it away,
and forget about it for all I know. However, I hope that isn’t the case. See, this would usually be an
awkward thing, maybe even a vulnerable thing to do under normal circumstances, but we are
strangers. I don’t know you or your story, and you don’t know me or mine, so we can hold hands
metaphorically through this letter for a couple seconds without it being weird. I hope you take it as
an informal way of me saying, “Let’s be not be strangers anymore.”

I mean it’s kind of cool, how one tiny letter can make two people go from being complete strangers
to knowing some things about each other. I still don't know anything about you, but I want to know
everything. What do you like? What ​are​you like? You have probably gathered some information
about what I am like, but here are some other facts (in case you want to know): I am an 18 year old
girl about to leave for college, I love mac and cheese, and I spend a lot of time in my school’s theater
program. I am writing to you, whoever you are, partially because my teacher made it an assignment,
and partially because I want to tell you you’re beautiful. “Why on Earth would she say that?” you
may be asking yourself. Well, I am saying it because I want you to hear it. I know this for two
reasons. First, you are beautiful because all humans are beautiful in their own ways, just based on
how complex and complicated we all are. Second, you are beautiful because, even though I am
assuming you are where you are because of a specific set of decisions you made, I know tons of
beautiful people who have made mistakes and bad decisions. So, I have no reason to believe you
aren't beautiful. To clarify, I mean this truthfully whether you are a male or female. Again, I know
nothing about you.

So, if by any small chance you're feeling lost in yourself, you should know that it's normal to feel
that way. Even if you think you're completely alone, know that you've got a friend in me. Thanks
for listening, stranger.

Sincerely­​­ C​

To whomever wants to take the time to read this­​­

I have lived a different life than anyone else because my world is self-centered and so is everyone
else’s: we all only know one point of view. When we pass people on the street we do not think of
them any more than we think of a shell on a beach. So to you: I want to let our two worlds
combine, even if for just a few moments.

I am 18 years old and dyslexic but still find reading and writing the best form of expression. I am not
shy but cold to many people. I will look at you with a smile but in my true heart I am looking at you
like a problem that I need to conquer and move on. But once you're in my world I warm up and the
ice that is around my emotions and thought melts. I become a completely different person.

If you are taking the time to read this and combined our two world for just a few passing seconds,
then you have a bigger world than I do.

­­A​nonymous

Dear Bro­​­

Into the cold cave of ice and snow we shall plunge, for the layers white may teach us but the
darkness introduces truth as well. In the depths of the cave, a nest solely sits awaiting the dove to
occupy it. The nest is treacherous. Security in a dark world, but it allows a mist to sock in vision of
the top world. It is hard to rise. Many try and crash upward just to topple back down, but some
make it. Perched on the ledge separating liberation from the decay, they spread their wings and fly.
They fly over the waters so clear fish can be seen for fathoms below. The waves churn, crash and
break but the doves flock together and form a brotherhood to keep them together. Their hearts
filled with a rush of adrenaline. This ecstasy guides them to guard their new ownership of the skies,
but it is large. The sky cannot be protected, and nor should it. The doves have no sense of this, but
that does not matter because they continue to try all the same. They bar the sky from the dark
depths keeping many other doves from emerging at all. They fashion their bars out of ice and
darkness, for this is what they have already conquered. There is always a hole or crack to escape
through the darkness, and the clever doves can find it. Leave the nest at the bottom of the abyss.
You may crash upward, but grasp the ledges with your claws and make your way to the ledge. On
the ledge there is the choice to fly or to fall. Fly.

­­A​nonymous

Dear Stranger​­­

I don’t know where to begin or how to write this so that these words that I write are meaningful.
I’ve never really done anything similar to this before, so hear me out. I want to write this letter to
you because I want to be one of the reasons that help you get through this. I know I probably won’t
be the difference between whether you glide or crash through the rest of your life, but I know that
the future is meant to be different than the present and our past, but we have to make that
difference for ourselves.

I’m pretty sure one thing we have in common is that we both have no idea what our future holds
for us. I’ll be leaving home in a few months and hopefully you’ll be leaving the juvenile detention
center soon. My past has been pretty soft. Pretty easy. I’ve glided through life as if I had an extra
hand on me each and every day. I’m not ashamed of who I am: I’m very thankful of my family who
has helped me grow to who I am today. I want your future to be like my past, and I’m very certain
that any mistakes that you’ve made can be fixed.

Sure, both of us might get lost upon the way, but deep down inside we both know how we are
going to achieve our goals in life and raise that bar to the next level. We just need to take things step
by step, layer by layer. Sure, we may crash along the way, but wouldn’t it be great if we had a
mentor that took us under their wing who’d be willing to guard us from evil? To only one day
return the favor ourselves and mentor others to grow up and be successful people.

I know, I’m a stranger and I don’t know your scenario, but hopefully I’ve given you some motivation
that will help you motivate yourself to grow, to aspire to greater heights than you can even imagine.
No matter what happens or how your future unfolds, I’ll be there for you. I believe in you.

Your friend​­­ 
 
Cody

Wanna know something cool? Oceans . . .

Vast, mysterious,
Unknown, unique

No ocean will ever have the same wave of flocks of birds, in search of new nests, covering its
distance.

Each wing that glides the top of the whitecaps will only have one infinitely minute moment of
existence of that specific reflection.

Pretty cool, huh?

No ocean is ever the same temperature as another.
Some are warm, providing hues of yellow and orange warmth and softness.

Others are simply cold.

And some are like a pie, a thinly crusted layer of ice guarding the surface.

No, the ocean is not without danger.
A reverb could unfold tragedy, bringing a ship and its crew down to an abyss.
A Great White rips the beating heart out of a supple fish's scales.

The seas are much like our experiences,
Unique and full of undeniable variety.

Though the shark may have its fill one day,
The ocean lives on,
The dolphins still dance,
And coral remains an artist's palate.

In a mix of inquiry, from every shell we peer into
To the orca searching the deep blue . . .

­­N​. A. Piper

Dear Stranger­​­

You may find it a little bit weird for me to be writing to you today. The reason I’m doing this is for
my English class: we are supposed to write a letter to a stranger who is incarcerate. I have a few
questions that you can choose to answer or not.

For my first question, probably the most obvious, what is it like to be in there? I’m reading this book
called ​Doing Time​, and it is a collection of poems and short stories that are each written by
prisoners. The majority of the stories usually explain their view on what it was like inside those
walls. They explain how it is a terrifying place with life-threatening obstacles around the corner at
every turn. They say how depressing it is inside the cold white walls, and how you can't trust
anyone while you're in there. But I really don't think it’s that bad. I mean, obviously it isn't going to
be a walk in the park. It is supposed to be bad, but I kinda got the idea that those pieces of writing
were a little bit exaggerated. Is it?

My second question is a debate that has been discussed in my class a lot throughout the past few
weeks. Do you think prisoners are able to be rehabilitated? I'm aware that there are certain classes in
prison that can help inmates adjust from their ways of crime and teach them how to live with the
real world again after they leave prison. But when I hear about people being released, they are
sometimes put back in jail for committing another crime. Maybe it’s because they feel lost or have no
other option. I guess it just depends on the person and whether or not they even want to change,
but they hold the opportunity. With that said, I have a follow up question. Even if it is possible to
rehabilitate an inmate, do you even think it’s worth it?

For my final question, what do you do to pass all that time? I don't know what it'd be like to have
to go through every single day doing the same routine and not being able to say no to a guard. Like I
said, I don't know what you're going to think of this, maybe this is the stupidest thing you've ever
read, and that’s okay. I don't want you to feel like you have to answer these questions. It’s your
choice whether you want to or not. I just figured it’d be something for you to do to pass some of the
time and give you a way to come out of your shell.

Sincerely­​­

Ben

Dear Stranger­​­

I have no idea what to say to you. I don’t k​now​you, and I’ve always had a problem with talking to
people I don’t know. It’s like I’m stumbling, trying to find some ground that’s common enough that
my brain doesn’t tumble and crash down the slope. My hands won’t stop moving and I’ll search
through every possible conversation topic only to come up empty and I’ll let the awkwardness
morph and grow until it’s an ocean between me and the other person. Do you do that a lot?

It’s odd. I’m normally good at winging it. I feel like I’ve been talking to strangers a lot lately, even
though they’re classmates and teachers I’ve known for years. I’m not scared that it’s my last term of
high school, but I just . . . I don’t know. People always want to know where I’m going and what I’m
doing next year, and I have no idea how to respond. Sure, I’ll crack a smile and make some snarky
comment and pretend that it doesn’t feel like I’m constantly guarding some secret that even I don’t
know, but I’ve gotten lost enough to know that this is what it feels like.

Through the layers and shells of work and classes and everything else, I’ve been thinking a lot about
math. I mean, that isn’t odd in and of itself for me, but I’ve been trying to figure out why I find it
beyond the beauty of human comprehension. I can’t find most poetry beautiful but I’ll look at an
equation and it makes my heart unfold, unpack every single compressed speck of happiness, and it
opens the hidden grains of the distinctly human curiosity.

I think that everyone’s got something that holds that power over them. It might be math or poetry,
or black holes, or computers or paintings or mythology or anything else humans have dreamed up.
But there’s one underlying, constant truth: it’s hard to leave that one thing be.

I don’t know. It probably sounds crazy and stupid. Do you have that ​thing​? Or is it multiple things?

I’ve run out of things I don’t know how to say, so I’m going to stop trying.

I may not know anything about you, Stranger, but I say this with complete sincerity: I hope you
have a good day.

­­A​nonymous

To the stranger miles from where I am:

It is no secret that we do not know each other,
so why pretend?
Why should I pretend
that I know what your mother’s name is?
Or what your favorite color is?
But most importantly,
why should I pretend that I know what you are going through?
I know I don’t like it when someone pretends they know how I feel,
know what I want,
know who I am.​
But if you’d give me a chance … I’d like to tell you about myself.
Because while you might be miles from where I am,
there is a chance you’ll understand me better
than somebody two feet from me.

So let’s begin:
My name is not important, not right now anyway,
as it is just a label
stapled onto who I am,
who I am supposed to be.
Sometimes, I don’t even know who I am,
or who I am supposed to be,
or what I’m even supposed to be doing right now;
All I know is that my hands are almost never cold.
An old woman once told me
that warm hands mean that you have a warm heart.
I don’t know what to think of that though,
because I have encountered people whose hands are as cold as ice,
but their hearts constantly filled with a fire and passion
for the little things they love.
Chances are that those people guard every bit of who they are though.
And to be honest, don’t we all?
No matter how old we are,
we are all ultimately just baby birds still trying to escape a shell,
in a less than comfortable nest that we call “home.”
It is slightly cracked and more than slightly small in this world.
The scary part is that I am basically blindly gliding out of my shell,

and I have no idea what life outside the nest holds for me,
what the future unfolds for me,
and what kind of waves crash over me.
Instead of an upward journey, I’ve only made this stressful.
Rather than climbing up the ladder, it seems I have only crashed.
From miles away, can you tell?
Can you tell me who I am?
Should I let you?
Should I go back and fill in the layers that I missed?
Or should I just leave it alone
and let you color in the empty spots yourself?
Will you paint me wings or will you let my words subside?

To the stranger miles away, it’s your turn.

­­​Anonymous

Lost In the World

Unsheltered. Cold. Beaten. Lost.
Like a dove with clipped wings,
Like a wave with no shore to crash on.
A goose with no flock, a clam with no pearl.
Lost.

But only one thing can be done when you are lost.
Move forward, break through the icy barrier blocking you.
Think not of the long trek up mountain,
but think of the view from the peak.
Think not of the being trapped in your own heart,
but of unfolding your wings and gliding down from the peak,
land on the earth with a satisfying crash,
make your impact on the world.

­­A​nonymous

Angelou wrote that the caged bird sings of freedom,
But what does the free bird sing of?
Does it sing of wings unfolding on the summer breeze?
Waves crashing upon a foreign shore?
Does the free bird sing at all? Rather does it take flight leaving
nest and flock behind to answer the instinctual call of wander?
This call to flight, the beckoning to drift like a cloud at the mercy of the winds,
is buried deep within it's heart.
It, at the core, is the most primal and simple joys of existence.
The caged bird hears this call too.
Icy cages and iron bars fail to restrain a desire that lies at the center of existence.
Flight's call slips through cracks in the cages, glides upward on the night breeze.
Iron bars will rust, walls turn to dust, wings once clipped regrow, and the caged bird, too, will
answer this call.

­­A​nonymous

Dear Stranger​­­

I’m not going to try to understand anything about you, as you aren’t able to understand anything
about me. That’s the thing about writing to a stranger, we’ve got nothing to go on. I’m sure you’ve
been through a lot since you entered the world, because everybody has. That’s not the point,
though; the point is that you’ve made it this far. You’re continuing to make it, and that’s something
that deserves recognition. Don’t let anything hold you back, tear you down, or stop you from
breaking out of your shell and following your dreams. Whenever you feel lost or afraid, just know
that there are people who have been where you’ve been. And they’ve made it. There’s so much of
the world outside of the small portion either of us has seen, and that’s something I use as
motivation. I want to see the ice on the Cedars of Lebanon, I want to watch the waves crash on the
coast of South Africa, and I want to experience the world as much as I can. I wish I could say that it
will always be easy, but most of the time it’s an upward climb. But it’s worth it because it’s one hell
of a view at the top.

­­​Anonymous

How are you? I don’t know who you are and you don’t know who I am, but I would like to give it a
crack and get to know you.

I don’t know much about the justice system, as I have not had to deal with the tough times as you
may have had to. I would not understand what it would be like to sit behind the bars, or what it is
like to sleep in the ice cold cell blocks, or what it would be like to have limited communications with
the outside world.

Part of me feels like I would have a loss of heart without television and videogames. What does one
do for enjoyment in jail might I ask? That would be one of the many tough things for
me​­­b​oredom​­­​as well as not being able to hold my family every day. This would be the crack in my
shell. I hold my family dearest to me and it would be hard not to have their soft hugs everyday. If I
were in prison I had just have to look upward and just have to fight through the tough times, kind
of like I do in my life when everything crashes down. Looking upward like a white dove flying up
from its nest. I would feel vulnerable too, unable to defend myself, as I would have no guard against
anything. In the end, I feel like I would fold up and would be unable to function. In the end, I think
I would really struggle in jail.

Sincerely­​­

Anonymous

Dear Stranger​­­

You may not know this, but I am writing to you because we were required to do this through our
English class. I was originally planning to write some poetry or some insightful paragraph. Then I
realized I don't care and probably neither do you. So instead I decided to take the vocabulary words
we were are required to use and write jokes out of them. Hopefully, you will have laugh. It's much
better than both of us being bored and wasting our time. So here it is:

What is colder than ice? My basketball skills.

What did one wave say to the other wave? Nice to sea you.

An old white man with hands so old they had begun to crack, and a fragile heart, goes to a doctor's
office. His youth is long lost and he thinks he is going to leave this world soon. He wants to know
when he will glide like a winged dove into eternal sleep. The old man asks the doctor, “How long
do I have to live?" The doctor replies, “Ten.” A second later the old man asks, “Ten what?" The
doctor replies, “9 . . .”

One night a man walks into bar looking sad. The bartender asks, “What's wrong?" The man replies,
“my wife and I got into a fight, and she said she wouldn't talk to me for a month.” The bartender
asks, “What's wrong with that?" The man replies, “Well, the month is up tonight.”

­­A​nonymous

Hello, Stranger­​­

I have no clue how to talk to strangers. What do I talk about? The world? What I feel deep in my
heart? How much do I let down my guard and come out of my shell? I guess I could talk about my
life; however, it is probably so much different than yours. I do not know your life, what has gone
well, what hasn't, and what you've gone through. I have never experienced what you have
experienced. All of this being said, I just wanted to say hello. You may ignore this, you may smile
because of it, or you might even go and tell someone else hello and make their day, but I will never
know. As you shake their hand, it may be soft to the touch, your fingers gliding against theirs. Or
maybe their hand is hard and callused, with layers of dirt from the work they just did. Or maybe
they will be cold and fragile, almost lifeless.

I will never know. In this world, there is so much we will never know, and so I guess I’ll just leave
it with a “hello.”

­­​Anonymous

Dear Stranger­​­

I don’t know what I’m doing with my life. As you hold this letter, unfold it, you will know
me. I’ve been lost in this world, unsteady and blindly stumbling, sometimes forward,
sometimes not, these 18 years. If life really is a joyride, then surely I’ve crashed many times.
Let down your guard, let me, a stranger, show you my heart. As I come to the point where
I’m expected to keep moving, to grow, I rather feel I’m wading through ever-hardening
cement which slowly freezes and binds my legs. If you met me, would you take my hand and
pull me out? I’d like to think I’d do the same for you, wherever you are, and whatever block
of ice has encased you. If you’d let me, I would crack it open, chipping away layer by layer
to free you. Would you leave the cold and let me?

Dear Stranger­​­

I do not know you, but now you know me. Rather, you know that I reach out to you, with
an offering of companionship and respect. I may not know where you will be sleeping
tonight, or what you will be having for breakfast the next day, but let’s eat together. Think
of me tomorrow, and I will think of you, and we will be

Dear Stranger​­­

Together.

­­A​nonymous

Dear Stranger­​­

I am aware that we have never met before and this might be out of your comfort zone talking to a
stranger that you may never cross paths with. I do not know your situation that brought you to jail
or a juvenile detention hall. I am writing you a letter to encourage you to do things that would
make you a better person on the inside and out. Just know that you are not alone everyone regrets
things that they have done in the past. If you are still being hard on yourself for the crimes you
have committed do not be hard on yourself. But once you get out of jail do not feel lost and start
doing the same things that got you into jail. The real world is full of struggles and I am guessing
you have struggled with addiction, stealing, lying, or whatever it was that brought you to jail.
Struggling is a part of life and trust me even I have struggled in life. You may have it worse than I
do but there is someone who has it worse than you.

I know you want to change but change is not easy. Change requires a lot of time and patience
which is hard to achieve, but be patient in your changing process. Try to write down a couple of
things that you would like to change about yourself and put a star next to your top three changes
you would like to make. Do not try to be hard on yourself and do not try to hold onto your anger
because it will not take you anywhere. Make yourself warm in your new skin; however, do not try
to change too much. Some people will miss the old you while others prefer that you 100% change
your attitude towards life. Do not crack and start going back to your old habits.

­­​Anonymous

Dear Stranger­​­

I’m sitting here in class today thinking about something I can say from the heart heart to you. I don't
know if we have anything in common. You might not want to hear my advice, but I will give you
some anyway. Never give up and hold on. Don't let yourself go back to what you were doing. Break
through the ice and never go back to what put you in the position you are in today. Spread your
wings and fly away from the old flock. Don't get lost back in the old world. Try to leave all of it
behind and break out of your old shell to find a new better one. I am just a high school student that
hasn't had any problems in their life so I can understand if you would never take my advice. Maybe
someday you will be at the top without anyone's advice, but I hope you will take mine and leave
this cold world behind and find a soft, beautiful one and wave goodbye to the old one.

­­​Anonymous

Dear Stranger​­­

I know your first thought about me is probably "hypocrisy."
Like, "Why is this dude who goes to Prairie even trying to talk to me,
And give me advice?
He doesn't know me."
Hell, you probably think that we have as much in common as fire and ice
Or some corn and bologna
To you. It's probably like we're living in two different worlds.

But listen, I know you man,
You're the kid in front of me who's hand.
I'm holding in the cold
as we’re walking across the street to school
At Jefferson. I remember you, you were cool,
Or you're my friend from confirmation class
Staring at the teacher preaching
While we're in the back thinking about the white sky
Over the beach on a cloudy day
And being a dove flying away.
Matter of fact were gliding far above the bars
Set up by society
That were made to trip us up and make us crash
Down to the low standards.
But we wouldn't crack, we couldn't stand for it.
You're the dudes who I used to practice basketball with
Spending hour after hour on that wood floor on Douglas.
So much time spent
Leaving our hearts on the court and the pavement.
You're the man parking in the parking lot,
Our windows rolled up as we stared in silence,
But it was okay because we didn't have much to talk about.
No, you're my best friend at The Prairie School.
Together, we guard and keep the memories safe
Of all the things we've been through
And I owe a lot to you.

I'm telling you,
Just because you're labeled a "felon"

And I'm on the other side of the walls
Doesn't mean we wouldn't go together nicely
like exploring and Magellan.
And I know you probably have a better taste of what hell is
But that's not what I'm saying.
I've never been in a situation
Where I've had to choose a dance with the devil over staying safe.
It's not fair that because of certain circumstances
You're where you are
and I'm where I am.

For now, just hang tight and keep your future on hold.
Don't lose sight of your aspirations
Because if you push through hard,
your dreams will unfold.
I know you still think that I have no worthy advice to give,
But I'm trying to reach out to you,
‘Cause we're still only both kids.

Until we meet again,
I'm looking forward to seeing you,
Friend.

Until then.

­­A​nonymous

Lost

Have you ever experienced the feeling
of being totally and completely lost?
Like the world is holding you to a path
One that is not your own?

We can fight for our heart’s desire,
But we sometimes crack a little.
The white doves finally decide
To conform to the enormous flock.

No satisfaction is achieved by following.
Refocus yourself and leave your nest.
Do not let reality discourage you.
Be ready to fly towards your reality.

There may be cold stares:
Some may leave you behind,
But never decide that after a few crashes
That everything is hopeless.

You will never live life to the fullest
If you are not living your own life.

­­​Anonymous

Hello, Stranger­​­

It's funny, because usually when making conversation with someone you don't know, you start by
trying to figure out what you have in common. Now this conversation (at least for right now) is
pretty one-sided, so I'm going to have to start out pretty broad.

What is something all humans have in common? Well, for one thing: our anatomy. We both have a
brain and a heart and a set of lungs that work in harmonious rhythm, like the waves crashing on the
shore. In and out, breathe in and out, can you smell the salt in the air? As you're sitting there, can
you close your eyes and pretend you're gliding above the ocean, like a flock of seagulls, or a lonesome
kite? We both have hands that hold pencils, or tools, or newborn nephews. Hands that help us
create, unfold, and point us in the right direction when we're lost.

What are your hands like? My hands are pretty small and usually cold. Some hands are rough and
calloused, others are soft and petite, some hands we leave empty, waiting for another to grab on.
That's something else we might have in common: the basic need for other humans. Like the
rudimentary water, food, and shelter, there is a need, a desire for a connection that penetrates
through the first layer of interaction. This desire -like many of the desires us humans have- guides us,
taunts us, and drives all throughout our lives. The choices we make are based in what we need and
complicated by what we want. What is it that you want?

­­J​ulia

Dear Stranger­​­

Have you ever felt like your world has been crashing down, unfolding more and more struggles
every day? It is easy to be lost in a world so big as ours today. One day, we feel as if we are on top
looking down, but when we try to open our wings and fly, we crumble to the ground. Our heart
which used to be soft and warm is now cracked into pieces and cold.

Now, struggling to get back on our feet and hold our own in society, we learn to leave a layer of ice
around our heart and question everything we do in fear of falling again. Through a society in which
we are surrounded with difficult choices everyday, we may need a helping help to succeed in life.

I have fallen but had to get back up on my own. My hand is here because it is always better with
someone to help you leave your past behind and create a new present. Life's a climb, we just need to
make sure we have the right equipment to reach the top.

Sincerely­​­ 
 
Charlene

A sonnet my teacher made me write
And through it share with you.
“Dove,” “nest,” “wing,” “white”
(He wants some key words too)​.
I could take these words and have them give advice:
“The lost heart one must guard from.”
“The world is cold as ice.”
But really, that’s kind of dumb.
I could put them in a question:
“How have you come out of your shell?”
But through this sonnet’s progression
I still haven’t communicated well.
I still don’t know what to say as these last lines unfold,
But maybe for you, some significance they’ll hold.

­­​Anonymous

Hello, Stranger​­­ 
 
Let's get this one thing out of the way: neither of us has a clue who the other is. With that out of
the way, we can talk about anything, from the white layers of ice out on the street or the flocks of
birds flying overhead. We don't know each other at all, but that should not stop us. As I use my
hands to type this letter, with every upward and downward click of each key I struggle to find
things to say say to someone I don't know. When I usually talk to people, verbally or electronically, I
usually share something that we both take to heart, sharing a common interests. I find myself lost
now, as I try and unfold some meaning out of this letter. Even now as I write this I find myself
reading it from the top, and trying to find something else to say. Without knowing the reader, it is
hard to just write about something.

Next year I will leave the nest and begin something new and different, but I have no clue where I
will end up. I guess I will just have to hold on for the ride and figure it out as I go. I am scared of
crashing and failing, and I feel the constant pressure of the waves crashing. What are you scared of?

­­​Anonymous

Dear Stranger­​­

My teacher suggested writing to you, whoever you are.
As I type these words, I try to force a connection
determining (or trying to) how best to let you know me, and let me know you.
Every word, another soft failure to breach this insurmountable gap.

You, so distant from what I know, and yet still a connection
outwards from both of us, from this curious happenstance to connect us,
undoing the shrouds of mystery to let us know slight tidbits of each other.

Listen: In all likelihood, we will never meet. That's near certain.
On the other hand, if we did, wouldn't that be incredible?
Outside, it's a big world full of interactions; maybe we'll be a lucky one.
Keyword: lucky. But who's to say? I, for one, look forward to it.

­­​Anonymous

Dear Stranger­​­

Throughout my life I have been given decisions to make. I can hardly remember an instance in my
life where there hasn't been a fork in my road. But I am privileged in the sense that I have always
had guidance and a decision to make that would positively affect my life no matter which rout I
took.

I've lived in a shell most of my life, protected from the outside world. I'm a senior this year, and as I
move upward in my education I will be forced to crack out of my shell and move into the real world,
the world you know.

I am a very layered person with alot of different interests. I am kind of lost in all of the things that I
like, but I have yet to find something that I am really really interested in and want to study.

I don't want to give you any advice like my teacher suggested I could do, because I am sure you
already get enough of that, and you know what will make your situation better. To be honest, I
don't think I could give you any advice: I don't know you, I don't know your story, or your situation
before you got where you are.

Maybe ​you​could give m​e​some life advice? Or tell me about a regular day? Or what your favorite
sports team is..?

Feel free to unfold as much or as little of yourself to me as you want . . .

Sincerely​­­ 
 
Me

ps. I won't be offended if you crumple this up now.

Stranger­​­

Have you ever thought of yourself as a shell?
A shell that has just washed up onto the shore?
Well, I have.
Every shell is different,
unique,
complete or broken.
Just like a shell we are all unique in our own way, different in our own way, and complete or broken
in our own way.
We all got to where we are today through different paths just like a shell washes up onto the shore
through a wave of different shapes and sizes.
No matter how we got to where we are, whether where we are is good or bad, we can always
spread our wings and fly upwards toward something better.

Have you ever felt lost in the world?
Like you were going to crack or unfold?
As if you were a layer of ice and if one more thing stepped on you, you would crack?
I have.
I felt like I could not accomplish anything to the standards of what I was supposed to.
I felt like I was going to crash at any minute.
That moment in my life allowed me to leave the past and come back on top.
My heart grew and guarded my feelings within so I could move on.

We are all unique.
We are all different.
We are all complete or broken.
We are all able to spread our wings and fly.

­­A​nonymous

Dear Friend​­­

Friend, you may ask? Well, yes. I may not know you, but “friend” sounds more inviting than
“stranger.”

I don't know anything about you besides that you did something that wasn't seen as acceptable in
this world of ours. Do you know why you did it? Why it was seen as unacceptable? Did the ground
crack beneath your feet, like a thin layer of ice, and even though you tried to hold desperately on to
the edge, you fell and crashed onto the cold surface below? If you don't know, that is okay too.

Throughout my life, I have had my parents to hold my hand and guard me from the flocks of those
who may lead me astray. Did you have someone to do that for you?

If not, I can be that person for you. Even though we may be the same age (or maybe you’re older or
younger), I’m willing to help you wash away the wrongdoings that stain you like soot on a white
dove. I can help you grow wings to fly upward and leave the crevasse you have fallen into. I can
help you make a nest of your own so that you may do the same as I and help those in need.

Sincerely​­­ 
 
A Friend

Dear Stranger​­­

Although we are vastly different people in different situations, are we not made of the same shell?
You don't know me, and I don't know you, but that makes it all the more easy to unfold ourselves to
each other.

While we are similar in this world of cold-hearted souls, I find it difficult to find the words to say to
you. We are merely two doves among a flock, soaring above the cold, waved ice frozen over the
Earth, unknown to each other, let alone our surroundings, as we glide and crash into the icy layers
of water below. But that's life, is it not?

We are all imperfect, just like the cruel, unforgiving world. But if we allow ourselves to unfold our
cold hands, to peel away the layers of ourselves we hold closest to our hearts, would we not be so
lonely in this vast world? It's true, we are strangers, leading completely different paths with
different futures, but I think that makes it easier, for me at least, to let down my guard, and tell you
about my true self.

I have anxieties and reservations about my future. Where will life take me? Sure, I will get lost along
the way. Crash and burn. But I also know I will soar, leaving the past behind for new, unspoken
stories. For life is short, and we must learn to embrace life as it is: cracked and imperfect.

­­​Anonymous

Have you ever
glided like soft flocks of swans
over a sunlit lake golden with your giddiness?

Have you ever
cracked through a wall
with your fist, curled in an angry ball instead of a wave?

Have you ever
heaved as the world ripped
your heart out and sent it crashing into an abyss of tears?

Have you ever
built your own nest
with the twigs and twine of artful pride?

Have you ever
crawled up into an empty shell
and floated back into the lonely sea?

Or has the prickly pear of fear
ever scratched your skin,
layered with goose pimples,
defending itself against who knows what?

So have I.

­­​Anonymous

Dear Stranger­​­

You know I don't know how you feel, and I don't want to pretend to know. We all get lost
sometimes, but I hope you find your way after you leave this place. I'm sorry that this letter might
not impact you as much as a poem unfolding my heart. I know that guards read this, so I guess I'm
scared to make it too interesting.

I hope that you are able to be outside, that's you can slip and slide on a layer of cold, hard ice. I hope
that you have someone to hold your hand and support you. I hope the bar is set high for you once
you're out of here. I hope that you have what you need to get through this time. I know that you
can glide through the rest of your life unscathed by society and with a whole heart. I know what
you did or did not do has affected you in this moment, but soon it will be over. Soon you can move
beyond this moment.

I want to know what you like to do. I want to know your hopes and dreams. I want to know what
you have outside of these walls. I want to know who you’re most excited to embrace. I want to
believe you have the answers to these questions.

Forgive, forget, and move forward.

­­​Anonymous

Dear Stranger­​­

What is music to you?

To me, music is a shell that envelopes every person in this world, and allows us to connect with each
other no matter the layers of cultural differences that separate us. Up until recently, I had glided
through life with music in the background of my life. I never really looked very deep into it, or
sought out music that wasn't pushed at me through mainstream media. But when I began listening
to more hip hop besides the stereotypical Eminem songs, my ignorance came crashing down and a
seemingly infinite wave of amazingly diverse music came rushing through. I felt like I was at the top
of an unexplored valley of music, just waiting to leave my hold on the edge and descend forever.
From the cracked sidewalks of Rosecrans Avenue in LA to the guarded state of mind of New York
to the ice cold flows of Atlanta, hip hop has opened my eyes into the lives of people I never would
have had the chance to meet or interact with. And I've barely scratched the surface. There is so
much more music for me to explore and people for me to connect to through it. And I cannot wait
for that to happen.

So, what is music to you?

­­​Anonymous

I don't care what you've done. The world is far too large for me to care about what unfolded for
you to end up in detention. We all have our problems​­­​I know I do, too​­­b​ut the only thing that
matters is that we carry on and try to make the best lives for ourselves we can possibly have because
though time may be infinite, our lives are not. I would hope you try to change and grow through
and away from criminal actions . . . I would wish to extend an upward hand and cut through the
layer of ice which may coat your heart. I know from experience that changing your behavior is never
easy. Just like a dove, you need to be gentle and softly hold the white bird and unfold its wings so
that it can glide away and rejoin its flock. I don't know what else I can say, I don't know what it
feels like to be in detention nor do I wish to. I cannot pretend to know how you feel, but I wish you
the best of luck and hope that your lifestyle changes for the better.

­­A​nonymous

Dear Stranger​­­

Do you dream? I dream I can fly sometimes, that I am part of a big flock of birds traveling south for
the winter. I dream of gliding on ice on a small pond during a cold winter afternoon. I dream of
walking through walls.

Do you have dreams? I dream to travel the world some day. To get lost in random places with
random people and just explore. To never feel as if I have left something behind when leaving
somewhere, anywhere. To collect shells while walking on the softest beaches. To climb on top of the
highest mountains.

We are two different people, but maybe we are really similar. Everyone has dreams at night and
dreams they hope and wish to do some day. I bet some of our dreams are even the same. So best of
luck to you for maybe one day accomplishing everything you dream to do.

­­A​nonymous

Guarded Heart

Right now I am going to let you have a peek into my world.
My heart is guarded by a layer of ice, for protection.
I am waiting for a soft hand
to crack the shell
I am somewhat lost in this world
Soon I will be leaving my own little bubble
This is why I need that layer, so
I won’t be taken over by a wave of hurt or disappointment
Hopefully outside my bubble the layer
will begin to unfold
As I learn to trust the world around me
But until then my heart will stay protected
by the cold layer.

­­​Anonymous

I look out over the water
And I see waves.
The beach is beautiful today.
I look up, a flock of wings in the sky:
Waves of doves guard the top of the world,
Glide through the soft clouds,
Going to better places.
Good times will come again.

­­​Anonymous

Waves crash upon our lives at every moment.
We feel conflicted and torn about what to do and say.
We await the the gentle fold of another person to comfort us in times of need.
We guard our hearts against hurt and pain to try to protect ourselves from the outside.

You and I are not so different, yet our differences define us.
Unfold your heart and let a dove fly through it.
Embrace the warm and shatter the ice so it breaks into a million pieces.
Glide on the wings of graciousness and compassion.

Your world may be lost but you can forge a new one out of the ashes.
I can offer you a hand in friendship and kindness.
To change oneself is a difficult task.
To leave the shell of your former self behind.

I invite you to break through the layers of yourself.
To create an upward flow of positive feeling and emotions.
Hold positive beliefs and embrace those around you.
My advice from me to you.
 
­­​Anonymous

Dear Stranger​­­

As I write to you, my thoughts are through the roof.
Questions are exploding in my head:
What is your name? How old are you? Do you like iced caramel macchiatos from Starbucks?
We could have a lot in common, or nothing at all.

One day, maybe we will glide past each other on the cold streets.
One day, maybe we will see each other through a window, at a bar, or along the white sandy
beaches.
Maybe one day our stories will unfold to each other as we become acquaintances.

One day, my eyes could be lost in yours.
Our hands could be folded against each other.
My heart could belong to you.

What if we don't have much in common?
Our worlds may never cross each other's path.
But until that possible day, enjoy your life

And live everyday like it is your last.

­­A​nonymous

Happy Place

Everyone has a happy place.
Sometimes the place is made up,
and sometimes it’s a place we’ve only been once,
or maybe it’s home.
Wherever it is in the world,
it holds a special place in our hearts.

For some it is the beach
scattered with shells
and the waves crashing onto the shore
and the soft, warm sand between their toes
with the sun beating down on the top of their shoulders.

For others it is like the mountains
with the cold wind behind their backs,
dressing in many layers to keep warm,
gliding down the mountain on skis or a board,

And there are many other happy places
that people wish to flock to
so they can get lost from reality,

but many times we do not want to leave this place
and a lending hand must guide us out.

What is your happy place?

­­A​nonymous

Dear Stranger​­­

Have you ever wondered what it’s like to be trapped under a layer of ice? Sometimes I think about
what it's like to hit a thin patch and feel the cracks form under your feet. Would you be afraid of
crashing through the surface and falling into a cold, unfamiliar world? I think I would. Maybe I
would reach up with my hands and search for an opening. Maybe my heart would slow and
everything would become soft as people flocked to the edge of the lake. Someone might even dive in
and pull me upward through the water.

Will you step out onto the ice with me?

­­A​nonymous

Dear Stranger­​­

There are no words, none that will not offend or upset or torture you. Right now, as I struggle to
write this, I feel this wave of anxiety and pressure wash over me. I feel as though I cannot say the
things I want to most because I am forced to walk on the most delicate of egg shells, and if I overstep
my boundaries by the smallest amount I will have ruined something with the potential of beauty. As
I try my best to use soft words, I can think only of the endless questions unfolding in my head. All
of my wants and needs in my mind are wrong. They pile up on top of each other, layering between
the ice that is caused by my guilt for curiosity. I’m sure you know what hell truly is as you find the
strength to wake up and get out of bed every morning, and what cold really feels like as you put
your hands on the bars that shut in front of you the very first night you were forced into a new
world, but I hope you still dream and wish and imagine. I hope that you are thinking about the the
waves crashing on the rocks on the beach on a cool, grey day; you inhale the spray from the rocks
you’re standing on and you feel free and happy and you have a purpose.

Ralph Waldo Emerson once said that “the purpose of life is not to be happy. It is to be useful, to be
honorable, to be compassionate, to have it make some difference that you have lived and lived well.”
It is a quote I cling to in my darkest hours, and I hope that it finds you during your darkest and
helps you the way it has helped me.

­­A​nonymous

Dear Stranger​­­

As my senior year is coming to a close, I began to unfold my emotions and relationships. High school
feels like a giant wave crashing into shore, and right now it is just washing over the shells. There are
so many ups and downs. Somedays my world feels as though it is crashing down. I feel so lost, but I
know I have to stand strong. Everyday may not be a good day but there is always something good in
everyday. I have learned to appreciate the little things so much more in life. I’ve learned to hold the
relationships you value the most close. Guard your heart; when all else fails, guard your heart from
harm. My heart is like a layer of ice. It is easily cracked and broken.

Somedays I do not want to get out bed and face the world, but I do. I leave the warm, soft nest I call
my bed. There are so many reasons to stay in bed, but everyday I find one reason to get out of my
bed. If I can make one person smile, then my day was a good day. Everyday is an upward battle
through a broken heart, a broken relationship, or a broken life.

But when is life easy and perfect?
It’s not.
It’s hard.
It sucks.
It’s full of mistakes.
Full of brokenness.

But life is so much more than unhappiness:
It’s full of sunshine.
Full of people who love you.
Full of activities.
Full of success.

You have one life. You get to create all the memories you want. You can do whatever you want.
You can love all the people in your life or you can hate them. Everyday is all about choices. You
make them, I make them, he makes them, she makes them. We all want this perfect life, but only
you can determine if your life is perfect.

­­​Anonymous

Hello, friend,​ 

I don't know you and you don't know me.
I don't know your age, your name, or who you want to be.

And I'm not going to pretend I do if you don't as well.
If you want to break out or stay in your shell.
I don't know if you feel loved or lost,

If you like to stray from your nest or fly with the flock.
I don't know if your world has come crashing down,
Whether you wear a forced smile or a depressed frown.
But whichever line may represent you, I do not know.

That's up for you to tell me, so
I want to know you, regardless of your day.

I just wanted to to say,
This is something I'm not going to pretend.

Hello friend​, 

I don't know you and you don't know me.
You don't know what I've done or the things I see.
You don't know whether I'm a white capped wave

Or a blind bat in a deep dark cave.
You don't know if I'd rather be warm or cold,
If I like to keep the past in my hand to hold.
And you don't know my age, my name, or whom I love,
If I'd rather be soaring above the towns like a gliding dove
Or building my dam like a helpful little beaver.
You don't know if I'm scared that people will leave

Because that's up for me to tell you.
So neither of us are going to assume if that's alright to do.

But I would like to know you
And I would like you to know me.
With a final goodbye I wanted to say,
I look forward to rhyming for you again.

Talk to you soon, friend.

­­A​nonymous

Dear Stranger­​­

As a new season unfolds where the ice begins to melt, leaves of green become home to birds that
flock upward to catch the sun’s warmth. They create nests of soft layers to hold what is most
precious. This reminds me of how important it is to nurture the heart and offer support to those
that may be fragile.

I do not know you or your circumstance, but I can only imagine that something troubling led you on
the path toward where you are now. I am sorry that the waves of a cold world can crack dreams of
what could be. Do you have dreams? I can not imagine that where you are now is what you
dreamed or where you want to remain. Look up to the sun, close your eyes, and feel the soft
warmth that glides across your face. That warmth is hope for you. Hope that the world is sending
you so that one day soon those rays of warmth will nurture your heart and lead you to unfold the
dreams that will better serve you.

I wish this for you, so I ask you to raise the bar on what you dream. Stretch your hand to reach
upward, and in doing so, you will better feel the dreams that are in your heart. Can you believe that
a stranger has this hope for you? I do, but even though you and I will never meet or even know each
other’s name, you will feel my hope in the warmth of the sun. Let it lift you just as white doves soar
to the top of sky. Let it guard your heart to feel less pain. Be well, and may the these words guide
you toward believing in a better world for yourself.

Sincerely­​­

A Stranger

Have you ever been lost in your own world?

I remember when I was little, my dad and I would collect shells on the beach during our vacations
and I thought the world was an easy place to live in. I was lost in my imaginary world thinking
everything was simple. When you have to leave your childhood, you truly realize how difficult and
cold hearted the world can be. I never thought it would be this exhausting, but looking through the
difficult times, I have been able to succeed in how I want things to play out in my life. Looking back
at the times at the beach with my dad, I remember the waves crashing and my dad holding my hand,
making sure I didn’t get knocked over. It was a fun and relaxing time. Do you have a memory like
that?

In the future, don’t let your guard down and always try your best to reach the top. Make memories
that you enjoy, memories that you can look back on and smile. Life is filled with layers of emotions.
Try to fill those layers with joy, happiness, and satisfaction, not anger, sadness, or outrage. Those
simple things will help you keep your head up and look forward to the life you have ahead of you.
Think positive and don’t doubt yourself.

Sincerely­​­

Madalyn

 

The ice has melted.
The cold wind on my face has turned warm

soft
sweet.

A seagull glides down to join its flock.
White waves crash on the shore.
I am reminded of the passing time.
Soon I will be leaving behind

my home
my world.

Will I be lost?
The seagull beats its wings and flies upward

­­​Anonymous

Dear Stranger​­­

Do you ever feel as if some days you have wings? Like you could glide through the day, without a
worry in the world? That some days everything just seems to be clicking in the right way.

So have I.

Do you ever feel as if some days your hands are tied? Like no matter what you do, you feel like you
are crashing? No matter what you do, you feel lost and your life is cracking and crumbling?

So have I.

Take a second to reflect.

Unfold all your memories from the week. Layer by layer, day by day, what changed? What made
one day easy and one day hard? Were the blankets softer the night before a good day? Was it icy
outside the day before a bad day?

Whenever you feel on top of the world, guard that feeling with your entire heart. Never let a crack
in someone else's heart continue its way through your heart.

Leave it up to yourself, and no one else, to make every day great.

­­A​nonymous

Dear Stranger​­­

You may not know this, but I am writing to you because we were required to do this through our
English class. I was originally planning to write some poetry or some insightful paragraph. Then I
realized I don't care and probably neither do you. So instead I decided to take the vocabulary words
we were are required to use and write jokes out of them. Hopefully, you will have laugh. It's much
better than both of us being bored and wasting our time. So here it is:

What is colder than ice? My basketball skills.

What did one wave say to the other wave? Nice to sea you.

An old white man with hands so old they had begun to crack, and a fragile heart, goes to a doctor's
office. His youth is long lost and he thinks he is going to leave this world soon. He wants to know
when he will glide like a winged dove into eternal sleep. The old man asks the doctor, “how long do
I have to live?" The doctor replies, “Ten . . ." A second later the old man asks, “Ten what?" The
doctor replies, “9 . . .”

One night a man walks into bar looking sad. The bartender asks, “What's wrong?" The man replies,
“My wife and I got into a fight, and she said she wouldn't talk to me for a month." The bartender
asks, “What's wrong with that?" The man replies, “Well, the month is up tonight.”

­­​Anonymous

A sailor was once lost at sea. Before he knew it, he found himself caught in a storm. His ship
violently rocked back and forth, with the winds straining its masts, the rain stinging his face. He
didn't realize the storm was coming until it had already surrounded him in full force and quickly
smashed his ship into the sea. The sailor suddenly found himself barely floating in the water,
clinging onto a piece of driftwood. He wondered what he would do now, how long he would have
to hang on until he would drift home. The water was cold and icy with gray clouds hanging above
him, and all he could hold onto was a small piece of his wrecked ship. The ocean waves relentlessly
came and went, crashing into him as he continued to maintain a sturdy grip. Throughout his time
lost at sea, the sailor occasionally saw flocks of white birds, reminding him of the world and the land
that he was drifting closer to. It was these reminders that kept the sailor afloat, and would let him
glide through each wave that crashed into his body. Before he knew it, the sailor woke up to find
himself washed ashore. He dug his hands into the soft sand and felt the familiar sun on his face.

But what was it that kept the sailor afloat? When he walks back on the shore, what does he hope to
see again? Whatever it is, it's what held him above the water, and what will hold you.

­­A​nonymous

Let's break free from the flock.
Let your heart search for a new cause,
Good and bad.
Let it soar like a white dove,
Your wings holding you from crashing.
Leave the lost world behind
And unfold your guard,
Layer by layer,
Fall on the ice,
Keep moving upward,
Until you stand on top.

­­A​nonymous

Dear Stranger​­­

You are probably expecting this letter be full of deep, meaningful things, but the truth is, I am just a
young 18 year old wanting to glide along life easily just as everyone else. Everyone is looking for the
“movie perfect” ending, but in my 18 years the biggest lesson I have learned is this world can be cold
as ice. But it can also be as beautiful and simple as a white dove soaring through the sky.

Always remember to not wait for things to be handed to you. No one is living for you. If you want
something, work your butt off and go get it.

Don’t always guard your heart. You have to take chances, and sometimes your heart will break, but
in the end it’ll just make you stronger.

Everyone gets lost in this world sometimes. Don’t worry about it. You’ll find your path again.

So stranger, I know there is a dream of yours that you still want to achieve. Go for it. Yes, this
world can be so cold, but if you just put on your winter coat and fight, it can be paradise.

Sincerely­​­

Another Stranger

It's cold​­­
The ground is white
But slowly unfolding.
A layer of ice is cracking.
The ground will turn soft,
dove's return,
Their wings gliding through.

The world is changing​­­
The waves are crashing again​­­
The flocks fly upward​­­

­­​Anonymous

Taking a crack at a new life, it's hard to think that because of something bad your life can turn to
shit, and that life can't just unfold back into itself again, it’s not something you can leave behind like
a bird leaves its shell.

It may be hard to think this, but your life and mine are similar, sure our worlds are very different
than each other yet we have problems, I thought I had it all, I had my mom, dad, football,
everything I loved, then one night I lost her, my mom. After that I crashed, I lost it all and all I have
left to remember her is her truck, that truck means everything to me, it's like a beautiful gleaming
white dove, something so beautiful you just can't ever let it go. Then I messed up, something I did
to myself and now I have gotten my truck taken from me too. Now to you this may not seem like
much or even anything at all, but to me I fell heart broken, I continue my life hating myself for not
being able to drive and be with something that reminds me so much of her. When I'm in my truck I
feel like I could be gliding through the wind, flying with wings, unafraid to crash. It's unexplainable
and sounds dumb, but she's everything I have, everything I feel in my heart is for her, guarded by
layers of love.

You, on the other hand, may have something very similar that you experience everyday, I can
imagine that there is something you love too, something so special to you that you dream about
holding onto it again for yourself, something that you can only imagine doing again, but you’re not
sure when or if you will ever have that thing again. All of this may seem weird to you, how some
weird ass kid is just telling you about all his problems and his stuff, but you have problems of your
own too, and maybe you think that nobody cares about you, well it's not true man. I don't know
you, but I care, there's ways of looking at things and people don't always look at things as rationally
as they should. Like forgiveness, I don't know what you did or your punishments but we all forgive,
and from that comes second chances, just like I'll get a second chance to be with my truck, you will
get a second chance at being yourself.

Take this letter and don't feel hated, feel thought of, and known, you’re not the only one out there
with problems, we all have a tendency to mess up. But the thing is we need to build from our
mistakes and move on to bigger things, the world is ahead of you my friend go out and get it, do the
right thing even if it seems stupid, just knuckle down and do it. Be motivated to work hard, be
proud of yourself and your earnings. Like Ricky Bobby in the ending of ​Talledega Nights​, “do it for
yourself.”

­­A​nonymous

Dear Stranger​­­

I hope that this letter finds you, that this letter finds you with hope. I know that when the little
things in life seem hard to come by, hope is important. I hope this letter can be your signal of hope
through trying times. I know waves can crash against a rock, for years and years. All it takes is one
wave.

Once you’ve reached your limit, all it can take is one single wave to crack the rock. All you can do is
sit there in amazement as it unfolds, revealing all of the long-forgotten cracks underneath.

One mistake does not define the trueness of one’s heart. All of the compiled pain can force one to
break. As soon as the top layer is penetrated, everything unfolds.

You may guard your layers. Refusing to open up, to allow yourself to suffer the same pain again.
Not leaving the nest. Staying comfortable. Feeling the cold of loneliness, the cold that penetrates
your soul and resonates throughout your entire being.

However, one mistake does not define you. What defines you is how you deal with that one
mistake. How you recover.

I hope this letter finds you. I hope h​ope​finds you.

­­​Anonymous

This is for Angela Reid, Bill Smith, Erica Southern America,
Land of the Free,
sip on your tea,
leave it to me.
I’ll introduce myself,
I’m seventeen,
my name starts with a B.

I been jammin, no traffic,
not new school, I stay bumpin the classics
I come hard with the raps, they’re never flaccid.
Now I digress to the topic at hand.

Mr. I gave me 45 minutes to
write a letter to you,
So there’s no way better to do it than a little rhyming.
Everything in life is based on timing.
Like if you meet the perfect person, there’s a lot to consider
Like is it worth it? All that work for probably nothing,
Maybe something. They could be your good will,
the one you’re been hunting.

Ok, you’re probly not Matt Damon
But it’s still worth saying:
Go out on a limb.
Jump into traffic.
Have an original idea, like Ben Affleck.
Write a movie, introduce a new kind of smoothie,
Something new. There’s so much repeition
Around us​­­​enroll in clown college.
Stop at the library,
Check out some new knowledge.
Meet a janitor and have a chat.
Don’t think about if they’re black or white or red or blue.
Get your family together and play a game of Clue.
There’s stuff to learn around every corner.
Keep your mind open, be a learner.

If you think you already know something, you don’t