Where do we come from? What makes us who we are?
This poem answers those questions.
6th Grade
Your name
Adjectives that describe you
Lover of...
Who feels...
Who wonders...
Who fears...
Who would like to...
Who is able to...
Who dreams...
Example
Rachael
Dedicated, Creative, Caring
Lover of black cats, great books, and warm chocolate chip cookies.
Who feels happy and peaceful when she's kayaking the Lumber River.
Who wonders if there is life on other planets.
Who fears that we may be destroying our own planet.
Who would like to travel to distant lands and hike faraway mountains.
Who dreams of one day being a teacher.
7th Grade
Title (Your poem needs a clever title that says something about you.)
I am from (a specific item in your room or home)
from (two objects or places that have been important to you growing up, like a stuffed animal or the skate park).
I am from (a word or phrase that describes your immediate family)
and from (a family saying, trait, tendency, something your family is known for or always does, like "Eat your vegetables!", "Finish your homework!", but it doesn't have to be something someone says).
I am from (a plant, tree, or natural item that is important to you)
whose/ that's (Why is it important? Note that whose and that's are possessive. You can change the word to something else like who's in order to make the line work.).
I am from (your favorite hobby or something you like to do after school or even in school)
and (your favorite type of music or a favorite song).
I am from (a family member's name) and (another family member's name)
and from (two foods that make you think of family gatherings).
I am from those moments when (think of a feeling, time, or place when you are completely happy and at peace).
Some examples:
From Tangerine Walls to a Shooting Star
I am from tangerine walls and shelves full of rummage sale treasures.
From a warm dance studio and ice cream sleepovers.
I am from a family who is always there at home, on stage, and after school.
And from being kind doesn't cost a thing.
I am from the sandy beaches of the Florida coast
Whose feeling of waves stay with you long after you leave.
I am from homework and dinner in the car on the way to dance class
And Tchaikovsky's music in my head all year long.
I am from Steve and Kathy
and from meatloaf or chicken and rice for birthday meals.
I am from those moments when the night sky is pitch black
and you see your first shooting star.
And here is my example:
Sixty Years and Counting (written on my 60th birthday, 2/24/2024)
I am from the two-sided study desk my father built for my brother and me. Sitting catty-corner from each other, we did our homework on its glossy white surface;
from Smokey Bear who I’ve had for over 50 years, who’s as bald as I am, but still keeps watch in my classroom, and from the blue spiraled bowling ball I got when I was 16 that I take out on every birthday since then for the yearly celebration;
I am from two still-living octogenarian parents and three siblings, all of whom live within minutes of each other;
and from a father who is so giving, he should be named a saint, and a mother who has sacrificed so much to care for her family;
I am from the forests and mountains and streams of Arkansas where I spent my summers growing up and now return to on as many occasions as I can whose sense of peace and freedom and serenity sustains me from one vacation to the next;
I am from hikes, bikes, and books; and the Spa station on SiriusXM satellite radio;
I am from Jim and Ann, and from three-colored jello, chuck salad, and hambeanie;
I am from those moments that give me a quiet time to reflect on the blessings of my life.
8th Grade
Who I Am
Purpose
This poem is not a list of facts. It is a portrait. Your job is to reveal who you are through moments, choices, habits, beliefs, contradictions, and memories.
Good autobiographical poems show identity rather than announce it.
Your poem should:
• Suggest who you are without sounding like a checklist
• Use specific details rather than general statements
• Balance outer life (what people see) and inner life (what people don’t)
• Sound like something written by a real person—not a template
Your poem must include:
-
A moment from your life
Not your whole life. One moment that matters. Small moments are often stronger than big ones.
-
Something you carry
This can be literal or figurative: an object, a habit, a fear, a responsibility, a memory.
-
A contradiction
Something that seems to conflict about you (strong but anxious, quiet but observant, confident but unsure).
-
A line about how others see you
-
And a line about how that differs from how you see yourself.
-
A line that looks forward
Not a goal list—just a direction, a question, or a tension you haven’t resolved yet.
Do not:
• Start with “My name is…”
• Use sentence frames like “I like / I am / I love” repeatedly
• List hobbies, favorites, or surface traits unless they reveal something deeper
• Write it like a resume or an Instagram bio
Craft expectations
• Free verse (no required rhyme or meter)
• 20–30 lines
• Strong verbs and concrete nouns
• Line breaks that feel intentional; This is poetry, not prose chopped into lines.
Examples follow: If they sound similar to each other, it’s because ChatGPT wrote them, and he has a distinctive style.
Example 1: Quiet Authority
I learned early
that volume is often confused with certainty,
so I practiced being still
until stillness started answering for me.
In group photos
I’m never in the center,
but I’m the one who remembers
who stood where
and why they didn’t want to.
I carry a voice in my head
that sounds like every adult
whoever said “you have potential”
and meant “not yet.”
People think I’m confident
because I don’t rush my words.
They don’t see the pauses
where I weigh honesty against safety,
or how often silence is a choice,
not an absence.
I am careful with promises,
not because I don’t believe in them,
but because I know how heavy
unkept ones can become.
Some days I want to be undeniable.
Other days I want to disappear
long enough to figure out
whether those are different desires
or the same one
spoken two ways.
Example 2: In Motion
I measure time
by the distance between places—
the walk from my house to the bus stop,
the hallway that smells like cleaner and sweat,
the stretch of road where music gets louder
because no one’s talking.
I carry responsibility
like a backpack that’s never empty,
even on days I swear
I packed light.
There are versions of me
depending on who’s watching.
The dependable one.
The jokester.
The one who nods
even when I don’t agree.
People say I’m laid back,
that nothing really gets to me.
They don’t see how much effort
it takes to look unfazed,
or how often calm
is something I build, not feel.
I am good at starting things.
Finishing is harder—
not because I quit,
but because endings demand answers,
and I’m still learning
which ones matter.
Somewhere ahead
there’s a version of me
who isn’t rushing or stalling,
just moving
because the direction finally feels earned.
Example 3: Inheritance
I come from stories
that are told halfway,
from names repeated
until they lose their edges.
I carry expectations
that weren’t spoken directly
but settled anyway—
be strong, be grateful, don’t complain,
don’t forget where you came from.
At school,
I know how to play the role:
show up, participate, succeed quietly.
At home,
success looks different
and sounds like sacrifice.
People think I have it figured out
because I follow instructions well.
They don’t see how often
I rewrite myself internally,
testing which version
still feels like mine.
I believe in effort.
I also believe in rest,
though I’m still learning
how to defend it.
I don’t know exactly
where I’m headed,
but I know what I’m leaving behind—
the idea that identity
is something you inherit intact
instead of something
you assemble piece by piece.