It’s a funny thing. If your friends, parents, and teachers expect you to accomplish something great, you very likely will. Not only do you want to please the people you care about, but their support helps you believe in yourself. And when you believe in yourself, you feel good, you have extra energy, and you can do your best. On the flip side, if others’ expectations of you are low, there’s a chance you will fall short, just as they predicted. The Biggest Win, by 12-year-old Caelen McQuilkin, is the featured story from our May/June 2016 issue. It’s a story about a friendship, but it also reveals something about the power of expectations. Rachel, the narrator, is best friends with Janina. Rachel is a soccer star, and Janina is good at art. They enjoy hiking together. In Rachel’s mind, this arrangement is perfect. “Opposites attract,” says Rachel. When Janina announces that she wants to sign up for the soccer team, Rachel is shocked. Not only does she think that Janina is not good at soccer, but she’s also afraid their friendship will never be the same. At first Rachel lies and encourages Janina to sign up. This makes Janina happy and even more eager to sign up. Then Rachel’s true feelings come out. She starts avoiding Janina, and worse. The other girls on the team say mean things about Janina’s soccer playing behind her back. Instead of standing up for her friend or helping her improve, Rachel joins in the negativity (although, to her credit, she feels guilty). Janina senses the negativity and, sure enough, she continues to play poorly. Luckily, Coach sees what’s happening and tries to steer the team in a better direction. She asks them to think about the concept of ohana (family) and apply it to their behavior as a team. Instead of keeping the ball away from Janina, why not give her a chance? If they are kind and expect more of her, maybe she will rise to meet their expectations. It takes a while, but finally the concept of ohana begins to sink in. It’s the championship game. Coach wants Janina to do a throw-in. One girl objects, but Rachel sides with Janina. The throw-in is perfect! As Rachel kicks the ball to the goal, her friendship with Janina flashes before her eyes. She realizes she has finally done the right thing. Janina just needed her best friend to believe in her. The friendship–and the game–have been saved. Friendships are complicated. A good friend is supportive and helpful, even if she’s uncomfortable with a new direction the friendship is taking. Think about your own life. Did a close friend ever step outside the box you thought she belonged in? Did you support her, even if it meant you had to change your own thinking? Was there a period where the two of you fell out of sync, then eventually got your rhythm back? Did you see the power of expectations? A complex relationship is at the core of The Biggest Win. Your own experiences can form the core of your own great story. Give it a try! You can do it!
Activities
Writing Activity: using a natural process to structure a short short story with “The Fire” by Campe Goodman, 12
Introduction to this Stone Soup Writing Activity This is a short short story about someone who lights a fire in a fireplace, watches it burn for a while, letting his imagination wander along with the flames, and then, bored, goes away from the fire to do something else. The character finally returns to the fireplace, but only after the fire is out. This story has a beginning (lighting the fire), middle (the fire is burning and the character is dreaming), and end (the character returns to the dead fire). Project: Describing What You See Think of things you have watched closely, such as fish in an aquarium, rain falling outside a window, traffic on a street, or clouds in the sky. Decide on something to write about. Then think of a character who, in your story, will see what you saw. Show us what that character sees and how that character responds to what he or she has seen. Remember, this character is not you and may act very differently from the way you act. Author Campe Goodman’s character in “The Fire” is not given a name and his physical features are not described. But writing fiction is like making magic: because Campe describes the fire so well, and because he shows us how his character does things—how he lights the fire, how he dreams for a while and then gets bored with it all—we get some idea of what this fictional person is like. Campe gives his story structure (a beginning, a middle, and end) partly by choosing to describe a process (burning paper and wood) that involves dramatic change. You can do the same if you choose to describe something like the sky as it turns dark at night, or a cloud as it forms, turning from wisps to a fantastic shape and then back into wisps. The Fire By Campe Goodman, 12, Norfolk Academy, Norfolk, Virginia From the September/October 1985 issue of Stone Soup The pile of logs and paper lay lifeless in the fireplace. I lit a match and wondered how this could produce my mind’s picture of a roaring, blazing fire. I pulled back the chain curtain and tossed the flickering match in. Soon flames shot up from the paper leaving an inky black trail wherever they wandered. The smaller pieces of wood began to glow, and gradually tongues of fire enveloped them. I could no longer distinguish between paper and wood, for the dancing fire blurred everything. Slowly the flames soared higher and higher as a red veil crept over the logs. Now the fire was a mountain range with jagged red peaks rising and falling. Twisted ghostly shapes could be seen weaving in and out among the flames. Little by little I lost interest in the shapes and walked away. I returned later to find the fire blackened, trying to find life in the few remaining embers. These gradually faded out, too, leaving me with only memories of the fire.
Writing Activity: personal integrity and family history with “Homemade Crop Duster” by Vivek Maru, 10
Introduction to this Stone Soup Writing Activity This story by Vivek Maru is a moral tale. It is about personal integrity and the “right” way to live. “Homemade Crop Duster” may be a “true life” story or it may be “made up.” Most probably, like many good stories, it is a mixture of both. Stories that have a moral often read more like lectures than works of fiction. “Homemade Crop Duster” works well as a story because Vivek doesn’t lecture. Vivek lets his characters show us how to act. We are not given a lecture about right and wrong. Project: Personal Integrity and Family History Vivek tells us that this is a story about Grandpa Maru, his father’s father. He says that sometimes, when he finds it difficult to follow his religion, he thinks of this story and it gives him strength. Talk to members of your family. Find out about a time when someone in your family (a brother or sister or parent or grandparent or even a great-grandparent) made a sacrifice for an important principle. I would proceed with this project this way: first, record the facts as if you were a reporter, getting down the who, what, when, where, and why of the story. Be sure to write down the principle that a family member was upholding. Second, take this reporter’s notebook entry and make it into the best story you can. The goal is to make your story feel like it is the truth and not read like a dry statement of facts like you might find in the newspaper. To transform your notes into an exciting story, you will have to let your imagination roam. Feel free to enlarge upon the facts, make up characters that didn’t exist, and add details and dialogue you weren’t told about to help make the story come alive. Homemade Crop Duster By Vivek Maru, 10, Huckleberry Hill Elementary, Brookfield, Connecticut Illustrated by Kerry Hanlon, 13, Brookfield, Connecticut From the November/December 1985 issue of Stone Soup In a country far away called India, long ago, there lived my father Hans, then eight years old. My father’s father, Grandpa Maru, was a farmer, and a good one. Grandpa was a very religious man, and that’s why my father is too. One of his many beliefs was nonviolence, and to be strict about it. This meant no fish, eggs, or meat to eat, and most of all, to never hurt or kill any human, animal, or even insect. So in the farm Grandpa never used bug spray or any other insect killer to preserve the crops. He only used natural ways. Since his family had a very small farm of only two acres, and three children to feed, Grandpa had the oldest son, my father, work on the farm also. They lived in a village, but the farm was on the outskirts of the village, about a twenty-minute walk. In India it was a tradition to have your farm a distance away from your home. My father would have to go early in the morning, accompanied by Grandpa, to work on the farm. Most of the time my father had very merry times at the farm, watching and learning about farming. He acted older than his age. I truly think he was dedicated to agriculture. His father was also very surprised and happy about the way his son could “do it right.” Life was going very well for my dad when he was eight. But one day just before the harvest time, a faint yell caught Grandpa’s ear. It said, “Grasshoppers! Grasshoppers! Lots of them coming this way!” At first Grandpa took it calmly, thinking it was just a youngster joking. But then his own son came running home from school saying, “Daddy, Daddy, come on! We have to save our crops! There’s a cloud of grasshoppers—you won’t believe it—and they’re heading straight for our farm!” Then Grandpa started worrying. “Oh, my gosh! Run to the farm! Wait! We shall not use bug spray. Get as many ropes as you can and start tying them together,” he told my father. “Yes, Daddy,” my father replied, unsure of the purpose of the ropes. By the time my father had started tying, Grandpa was off to the farm. It was a red hot afternoon and my dad didn’t have shoes! He finished tying and Grandpa spread the two-hundred-foot rope he had made across the field. Grandpa told my dad to take one end of the rope as he took the other. “O.K., I shall do as you say,” my father said, still not knowing the purpose of the rope. “All right, now run as fast as you can,” Grandpa told him. “I’ll beat you across the field,” quipped my father, now getting the idea. The rope dragged along the crops, swooping up the grasshoppers and shooing them away. At first my father sprinted and was ahead of Grandpa, but after many times, he got tired. He slowed his run to a fast jog. “I thought you said you could beat me,” challenged Grandpa. This stole my father’s honor so he speeded up to a pace that was fast, but that he could keep for a long while. For if he couldn’t move the rope fast enough it would not go under the grasshoppers and would not budge them. But after about forty-five minutes, like any boy his age would, my father got tired. Again he slowed down. This time Grandpa was desperate. “Come on, boy, run! We’ll never get those grasshoppers out,” scolded Grandpa. “I’m trying, Daddy, but I’m very tired,” replied my father. “Well, try harder!” Unfortunately this carried on for quite a while, but fortunately my father’s aunt had come to visit. This aunt was my father’s favorite. “What are you doing here, Bahen?” Grandpa asked her. In India, brother calls sister “Bahen” and sister calls brother “Bah.” “I was told I could find you here,” replied Dad’s aunt. “I’ve brought a
