Savanna Scheifla

On a cool and cloudy April afternoon when I was in 8th grade, I was practicing high jump for track. On the red cracked ripped up track and grass staining football field it surrounded.  At this point track had 80 kids in it and most of the boys who participated just would jump bounce flip and launch themselves onto the mat and This resulted in me not being able to practice ever. When Mr. Cornwell came over to give me critiques, then he would realize I wouldn't have a chance to go. He would always yell, “If you are not competing high jump go practice your events. I always remember the sound of the bar clanging on the ground once it was knocked over by a failed attempt. Coach Carl in the background telling Sierra Warner and Hayden Grover to keep their hips up and to snap in like a mouse trap. Every time I ran up and jumped over the bar and fell into the mat, I would get the smell of sweaty kids and nasty shoes that are left out by the replacement of spikes. Mr Cornwell would always give me critiques and perfect my form for years later leading up to today where he still asks me to demonstrate high jump and to help the modified kids  

My poem talks about how my life was to how it has changes based on a few specific scenarios, some about where I live to how my life has changed within the past few years.