This is What I Fear, Rm. 202, 8th grade

I brought in an excerpt of "82 Reasons Not to Get Out of Bed," by Denise Duhamel and her Florida International University M.F.A. students. It is a collaborative piece, the result of the entire class and the teacher writing down several fears, then one student compiling them into a poem and titling it. This method of compiling assorted lines or parts to make a poem is often called a cento.

For my 7th and 8th grade classes, I asked them to write down 3 fears on a blank paper--no names--emphasizing that they should be particular and concrete, zooming in on the fear. I compiled them into collaborative pieces, literally cutting up the sheets of paper and drawing out slips randomly one by one, typing the poem as I went (although I was a little more intentional with endings).

More fear centos to come! Believe me, you can't wait. I know I can't.


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This is What I Fear
Rachel Javellana and Room 202, Ms. Catinella’s 8th grade class, Lee School


I fear drowning when I can swim but can’t come back up to get air.
I fear being without my family. I would not know what to do without them.
I fear heights that are taller than the sky.
I fear getting Fs in school.
I fear the dark, whose guilty hand tries to pull me in.
I fear clowns.
I fear the world ending.
I fear guns shooting outside.
I fear my world may one day come crashing down.
I fear time: not having any to finish the important things in life.
I fear being hopeless with no sense in living.
I fear I will get shot and die.
I fear the movies when you don’t know what else is going to happen.
I fear that one day I won’t come home; I will be taken away from my family.
I fear people lying on the floor, pale and not breathing.
I fear that in the future I will be nothing or nobody.
I fear never succeeding in anything, not going anywhere in life.
I fear getting sick and not being able to get better.
I am afraid of the time to run away from me.
I fear people dying.
I fear my dad’s huge hand striking my face down.
I fear being outside alone at night.
I fear guns.
I fear the men in the streets in the night.
I fear getting shot because I wear the wrong colors in the wrong ’hoods.
I am afraid of what can happen 50 years from now.
I fear death knocking at the door.
I fear divorces.
I fear dying early.
I am afraid of not getting through the gates, and being sent down.
I fear feeling lonely.
I fear strangers.
I fear losing my dad over something that isn’t even worth it.
I fear the height when you go on a rollercoaster, seeing all the things beneath you.
I fear when people start screaming and fighting.
I fear the room when it’s dark.
I fear funerals.
I fear Fridays the 13th for bad luck.
I fear surgery.
I fear spiders, big and small.
I fear getting into a gang shooting.
I fear small rooms; I fear being in one by myself.
I fear flying squirrels.
I fear losing my mom over something stupid.
I fear the planes that go up in the sky.
I fear Ms. Catinella.
I fear dark alleys.
I fear the darkness of an empty room.
I fear being in small places because I feel like I’m going to pass out.
I fear a lot of homework.
I fear dying when it’s my turn.
I fear the reaper taking my life away.
I fear the world will end and we won’t have enough time, and no way to stop it from
ending.
I fear guns taking a life away.
I am afraid of not seeing the light anymore and going away from my family.
I fear getting into trouble.
I fear heights over eight feet.
I fear height.
I fear people fighting outside.
I fear falling down a building.
I fear talking about my baby.
I fear the world is going to end at any time.
I fear breaking my leg.
I fear living on the streets as a bum.
I fear gangs.
I fear large quantities of water like lakes.
I fear being in danger.
I fear forgetting my favorite people when I go off with my future career.
I fear heights.
I fear dying young.
I fear being kidnapped.
I fear dying too young.
I fear bees.

That is what I fear.