I made a best friend in first grade by falling on my face. I stumbled gracefully off our morning bus onto the concrete. My friend, Dorian, helped me up and sat with me every morning after that. He listened to me tell stories about my brothers, class pets, anything that came to me. Stories kept us interested for the hour-long bus ride, and it became a routine for us until my fourth grade year. He switched schools before I wrote anything down. This was before I had a phone or social media, so losing contact felt like losing a friend and my favorite audience.
It’s embarrassing to think about what I did eventually start writing down, but I had to start somewhere. Until I became a part of the writing program at Douglas Anderson, I didn’t show anyone. Partially because I wasn’t comfortable with my work, but also because I didn’t think anyone would care as much. Since, I’ve become more confident. That probably has something to do with not writing like a first-grader anymore.
Dorian and I have been catching up recently. And his memory is unbelievable. I almost wish he didn’t remind me of elementary school or where my stories started, but it says more than anything that they were memorable. I’m sure he appreciates the improvement, but we do talk about the cute stories and laugh. He is still great at listening, and more than anyone, my favorite to share my work with.
-Jordan Jacob, Senior Editor-in-Chief