Kimo Gray
5/28/09
English9
Mr. Salsich
Memories are Cerebral Storage Boxes Stacked with Emotion:
An essay on change

I’m not good with change. It’s not the big changes that affect me; I have moved a dozen times now, and every time, I can accept it. Change is hard, but things like the new school, or parental job relocations just make sense to me. No, it’s the little things that bother me, like haircuts, or momentary computer frustrations. Change affects us all in different ways, be them big or small. But when change is multiplied by time, an equation is given that often yield strange, frightening, and oddly reflective results.

Though life is always moving, always eager to shift from one phase to the next, we all have a constant companion; change. In William Wordsworth’s Poem, “Tintern Abbey,” he speaks about returning to a church that he has not visited for five years. The church is ruined by King Henry VII’s men, and he reflects on its changes, such as the overgrowth, the fades from the sun, and the vibe of emptiness it gives off. Here his childhood memories of the church are replaced with this new alien one. Wordsworth himself reflects on how five years have changed him. He is different from the boy swimming in the nearby river Wye, saying, “That time is past/ And all its aching joys are now no more…other gifts/ Have followed; for such loss, I would believe, abundant recompence.” Wordsworth’s life has changed much since the last visit; he has lost some things but gained “abundant recompence.” One of the greatest human characteristics is the ability to notice any change, be it a new shirt, a different tone, or even an abnormal emotional response. But it can be hard to notice change in oneself. For Wordsworth, this great chapel, whose disguised beauty does not go unnoticed for him, inspires him to reflect on his life, and what those five years have brought for him.

Five years is a long time, a time to change, a time to grow, and a time to reflect on times past. Though important to me, in five years time it will not be the walls of Pine Point school that I have missed the most, but rather the people and the memories I have made there. To revisit after a few years would be nice, and would bring a sense of quiet comfort, but also one of emptiness, as I know this place will never again be the same. Five years is a long time for me to change, but I can’t expect the school to remain as it is today. Without the people I remembered there, the trip back would seem almost lonely, wading through the memories like a zombie visiting a cemetery. But if I was to see a familiar face, then the situation would change to cold lifeless shapes to a warm welcoming home. It is interesting to note how little a teacher can change even in the course of five years. Five years is a long time, and though the people I love will change, the foundation of our memories will stand tall for many years to come, and that in itself is comfort enough.
In the Poem, “The Writer,” by Richard Wilbur, change is presented as a form of cerebral metamorphosis. He speaks of his daughter, as she clacks away at the typewriter, her creative ideas flowing out. But all of a sudden, she stops. No sound is heard, just the silent thoughts bouncing around in her head. It is now that a clatter rises up again, but as soon as it starts, it dies down. This girl is expressing developmental change even now, as her ideas moves back and forth, and her mind grows. Though she does not know it, when she thinks “the whole house thinks,” and when she writes again, the sound is beautiful. Here, change is not frightening, but rather a small-scale mechanism that progresses your life, one step at a time.

I find myself going over and over again my previous statement, “the big changes [don’t] affect me.” But when I think about my upcoming move, I know that this is a lie. Maybe one time in the past I would have been fine with this, but not today. Today I am changed, and I know that I don’t want to move. But change is a force not to be reckoned with, and maybe in a few years I will look at this again and question my thoughts. But right now, I don’t want to change. I want to live my life as Kimo from Connecticut. But I understand that moving on is inevitable, eventually I will become Kimo from New Jersey, and my previous life will dwell in memories. And for all that I am losing, for all the sacrifices I am making; I know there is a silver lining, my “abundance recompence.” New beginnings are difficult, endings are harder, but it is a circle that will never change, and that affects us all.


1. 5/28/09

2. I have been working on organizing my paragraphs and omitting unnecessary words.

3. Some strong points I see is my paragraph about Pine Point. I also think that contradicting myself works well for this.

4. I think that my final paragraph is a little confusing. I also think I may have been making a bit of a stretch in the final body paragraph.