What Room Does Fear Have?

Dec 20

In June 2016, our second group of 8th graders graduated Community Roots. Below is the poem that a few students shared, written by Jon Jorgenson, the ending of which was adapted by a few of our students to depict their time at Community Roots. Our 8th graders recited this poem at graduation:

I used to be afraid at night.

Afraid of the dark.

Afraid that just beyond the point my eyesight allowed me to see that there was something lurking.

Afraid that the darkness itself would somehow surround me and swallow me up...

as if darkness were anything more than simply

the absence of

light.

I used to be afraid of tomorrow. Afraid that who I was would continually dictate who I am and that who I would be might be someone who I didn't like very much at all...as if there was no such thing as being made new.

I used to be afraid of opinions. Afraid that though words would not break my bones, they certainly would shatter my dreams...as if I started doing this for the approval of many rather than the glory of one.

I used to be afraid of failure. Afraid of losing. Afraid of falling. Afraid of being wrong, creating busts, and looking absolutely stupid because who am I to think that I could ever actually make a difference? As if those setbacks were anything more than stepping stones on the path to success.

We used to be afraid.

Used to.

But then I did a little research.

And by that, I mean I re-searched, and

I re-searched,

And I re-searched

over and over again, and through all of my re-searching, I kept coming up with the same exact question: