Post on 29-Jan-2023
2 Writing Competition
Published by:
Debbie Barry
2500 Mann Road, #248
Clarkston, Michigan 48346
USA
Copyright © 2013 by Deborah K. Barry. All
rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced,
stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted
by any means without the written permission
of the author.
ISBN-13: 978-1482619829
ISBN-10: 1482619822
Writing Competition 3
Writing
Competition
Debbie stared at the blank
sheet of paper and the two
sharpened, number two pencils on her
desk. Around her, other students
fidgeted nervously or whispered
across the aisles between the desks.
Today was not a normal day in grade
ten honors English. A few days
earlier, an announcement had been
made that today would be the first
part of a writing competition.
Debbie looked up at the chalk
board at the front of the classroom.
The teacher had pulled down the
overhead viewing screen to hide the
board. Debbie knew that the subject
4 Writing Competition
for today’s essay was already written
on the board behind that screen.
She looked down at her paper
again. The yellow, painted wood of
the new pencils seemed harsh against
the blue lines and pink margins on the
paper. Debbie took a deep breath and
let it out slowly, calming her nerves.
Mrs. Woods entered the
classroom. She stood in front of the
screen as the bell sounded in the
corridor to begin classes.
“You have one class period to
write an essay on the topic on the
board. You will not talk to each other
or look at any books or notebooks
during class. Be sure to put your
name on your paper.” She reached
behind her, tugged down on the
screen, and rolled it up into its case
at the top of the chalk board. On the
board was the topic for the essay, the
Writing Competition 5
white chalk bright against the
otherwise clean, black board.
Debbie stared at the board for
several moments, considering the
topic. Then she picked up one of the
pencils, positioned her paper at a
comfortable angle on her desk, and
began to write.
For the next forty minutes, the
classroom was silent except for the
scratching of pencils on paper, the
rustling of students shifting in their
seats, and the occasional, muffled
sigh or grunt from the students as
they labored over their writing.
Debbie wrote quickly and confidently.
Her paper filled with words as she
explored the ideas of her essay.
Finally, she placed the last period at
the end of the last word of her
conclusion and looked up. The clock
showed just a few minutes remaining
6 Writing Competition
to the class. Quickly, Debbie looked
back over her work, making only a few
corrections before placing her now-
dull pencil on the desk.
“Pencils down,” Mrs. Woods
called as the bell sounded to end the
class. “Place your essays face down on
the desk as you leave. These essays
will be entered in the Vermont Honors
Competition for Excellence in Writing.
Good luck!”
Debbie picked up her backpack
and slung her purse strap over her
shoulder. Gathering up her essay and
pencils, she made her way up the aisle,
placing her papers face down on the
growing pile of essays. For a few
moments, Debbie felt rather nervous.
She had known about the competition,
of course, but she had forgotten
about it while she was writing. Now
she worried whether she had written
Writing Competition 7
well enough to move up to the next
level of the competition. Debbie was
a straight A student, and she was
used to excelling; the thought of not
succeeding caused her a flash of
anxiety and self doubt.
Once out of the classroom, all
worry and anxiety faded quickly.
Debbie hurried on to her next class
with no more thought of the writing
competition. The clamor of students
squeezing in moments of conversation
and gossip as they passed through the
halls swept from her mind any
thoughts of the essay.
Several weeks passed. Late
summer turned to fall in earnest, the
trees ablaze with brilliant red,
smoldering orange, and gleaming
yellow foliage. The school days came
and went, and no one remembered
8 Writing Competition
that they had written essays for a
competition.
One morning, as Debbie slipped
into her desk in home room, the
principal’s voice came over the
intercom system before the morning
announcements.
“Good morning!” his voice
boomed, deep and warm even through
the speaker. “Several weeks ago,
many of you wrote essays for a
writing competition, and today we
have the winners.” Debbie stared at
the speaker, mounted high on the wall.
Her palms grew cool and moist as she
gripped the edges of her desk.
Debbie knew she was a competent
writer, but she felt little confidence
in her abilities in that moment. She
listened intently as the principal read
the names of the winners for the
twelfth and eleventh grades. She
Writing Competition 9
held her breath. Then she heard her
own name come from the speaker.
Debbie felt lightheaded with surprise
and pleasure as the home room
erupted in applause for her.
Debbie’s grip on the desk
relaxed and she sat back in her chair,
but she continued to stare at the
intercom speaker for several
moments. She did not even hear the
name of the ninth grade winner as her
mind tried to process the idea that
she had succeeded yet again.
Finally, the bell shattered the
moment, and Debbie moved into the
corridor with her classmates. She
sent off for the locker room to get
ready for first period gym. As she
walked down the stairs and through
the halls, the first shock finally wore
off. Debbie felt her surprise being
10 Writing Competition
replaced by pride and satisfaction in
her accomplishment.
Debbie would have denied it if
anyone had asked, but she knew in her
heart that she would have been
deeply disappointed if anyone else had
won the first part of the competition
in her grade. Debbie had always been
a perfectionist in her own life, and
she expected to succeed at
everything she did.
As Debbie changed into her
gym clothes, she reflected that she
would have felt crushed if she had not
won. Closing her locker, Debbie
steadied herself with another deep
breath, banished any negative musings
from her mind, and smiled. She had
won.
Fall became winter, and Debbie
enjoyed the freedom of the
Christmas break from school. The
Writing Competition 11
new year began, and once again,
everyone forgot about the writing
competition. Finally, one day in
February, Debbie and the three other
representatives from her high school
rode together to another high school
about an hour north of her home. It
was time to compete in the regional
level of the writing competition.
Debbie rode in silence. She
felt anxious about writing the next
essay in an unfamiliar place. When
she got out of the car, she looked at
the high school building, realizing that
she didn’t really know where she was.
She shivered in the cold, February air
of central Vermont and hurried into
the building with her companions.
Inside, the students were
taken to a classroom where the
regional level of the writing
competition would take place. There
12 Writing Competition
were five high schools in the region,
with four students representing each
school. The room was set up with
four rows of five chairs each; the
ninth grade students would sit in the
front row with the tenth grade
students behind them, then the
eleventh grade students, and finally
the twelfth grade students in the
back row.
Debbie stood off by herself;
many of the other students stood
alone, as well. She felt unsettled, and
the beginning of dread twisted in the
pit of her stomach. She hugged
herself, reflecting that she had felt
calm and confident up until she had
left home that morning. Now her
stomach was churning, and Debbie
felt that there was not quite enough
air in the room. Although Debbie was
an outstanding student, the other
students all seemed larger than life
Writing Competition 13
to her anxious eyes, and she felt a
sudden certainty that each of the
other students was far smarter and
better than she was.
Time crept by once the teacher
from Debbie’s school left her and her
companions in the competition room.
That the teacher from her own school
was a stranger to her was unusual for
Debbie, and it only added to her
distress. Debbie struggled to
breathe slowly and stay calm as the
minutes dragged by like hours. She
concentrated on each new breath,
privately hoping that she would not
embarrass herself by being sick.
Finally, a teacher entered the
room and placed a small, blue
composition notebook, a white
envelope, and a pair of new, sharpened
pencils on each desk. When he was
done, the teacher moved to the front
14 Writing Competition
of the room and smiled at the group
of students.
“Welcome!” he said warmly.
Please take your seats. You’ll find
your names on your envelopes.”
There were several moments of
quiet chaos as Debbie and the others
sorted themselves into their assigned
desks. Debbie found herself seated
at the middle of the tenth grade row.
She looked at her envelope. Her name
was typed in clean, black letters on a
label that was stuck to the center of
the front of the envelope.
“Your essay topics are inside
your envelopes. All of the students in
one grade have the same subject. You
will have one hour to write your essay
in the notebook that has been
provided.” The teacher paused and
watched the second hand of the clock
on the classroom wall. As the hand of
Writing Competition 15
the clock clicked to 12, the teacher
said, “Begin!”
Debbie’s hands trembled
slightly as she tore open her envelope.
Inside was a narrow strip of paper
with the topic typed on it. Debbie’s
essay topic, as a tenth grade
competitor, was to choose the person
from history whom she admired the
most, and to explain why she admired
her chosen person.
Debbie sat frozen in her chair
as she thought about the topic for
several minutes. She was near panic
as no good candidates came to her
mind. She considered and discarded
several possibilities. Finally, Debbie
decided to write about Abraham
Lincoln.
Once Debbie chose her topic,
all of the nervousness and security
washed out of her. She wrote
16 Writing Competition
steadily and confidently. As she
wrote, the classroom and the other
students faded from her
consciousness. The words flowed
from her mind, through her hand, and
onto the pages of the notebook.
When Debbie reached the end
of her essay, she stopped writing.
That sounds like rather an obvious
thing to do, but that is what she did.
She did not wonder what else she
could write, or count her pages or
paragraphs to see that she had
written enough. She knew that she
had gathered up the threads of the
essay in her conclusion, and she was
simply done writing. After checking
to be sure she had written her name
and grade on the front of the
notebook, Debbie took her essay and
all of her materials to the desk at the
front of the room and placed them in
front of the teacher.
Writing Competition 17
The teacher looked up with a
slight frown. “Are you sure? You still
have fifteen minutes,” she said.
Debbie smiled shyly and
nodded. “I’m done,” she replied.
“Alright, then, return to your
seat and wait for the end of the
hour,” the teacher said, uncertainty
tingeing her voice.
Debbie returned to her seat
and waited quietly for the rest of the
students to finish. One by one, the
essays were added to the stack on
the desk. Finally, the hour ended and
the teacher stood up and announced,
“Pencils down! Please leave your
essays and other materials on my desk
as you leave. Good luck to all of you.”
Debbie and her three school
mates found their chaperone waiting
in the corridor. Soon, they were all in
18 Writing Competition
the car, headed for home. It was a
fairly quiet drive as each student
seemed to be lost in thought. Debbie
thought about the essay that she had
written so quickly and so confident.
Now that the second stage of the
competition was over, she began to
worry about her essay. Had she
written well enough? Was her essay
long enough. These thoughts
bothered Debbie all the way home,
but they faded that night as she
slept.
Once again, there was a wait of
several weeks between the writing
and the announcement of the winners.
The thick blanket of freezing snow
melted away and the soft warmth of
spring returned. This time, Debbie
did not forget the writing competition
as she had forgotten it after the
first round. Each morning, Debbie sat
at her desk in home room and listened
Writing Competition 19
carefully to the announcements that
were read over the intercom system.
Each day, she hoped to hear the
results of the regional level of the
competition, and each day she
dreaded hearing that some other
student had won the regional
competition for her grade.
One morning, at the end of
April, Debbie heard the principal read
her name over the intercom during
the morning announcements. He said
that Debbie had won the regional
writing competition, and that she
would be representing the high school
at the state writing competition in
May.
Debbie’s secret fear that she
would embarrass herself by failing in
the regional competition was swept
away by her elation at knowing that
she had won. Just as before, the
20 Writing Competition
home room erupted in applause for
Debbie. Debbie released the breath
that she had not even known she was
holding. Her relief at having
succeeded once again was quickly
replaced by a flood of pride and
happiness.
The bell rang, and Debbie
moved out into the hallway with her
class mates. All around her, students
and teachers called congratulations as
she passed. Debbie felt like she was
floating as she hurried to her first
class. All of Debbie’s fear and doubt
was replaced by the overwhelming
feeling that she deserved nothing less
than the praise she heard on every
side. She had succeeded, and it made
her feel strong and confident to know
that everyone around her knew about
her success.
Writing Competition 21
As the day of the state level
competition approached, Debbie
realized that the local competition
and the regional competition had been
no more than small foretastes of the
real competition. The final level of
the competition would be held at the
state university, a three hour drive
north of Debbie’s home. There she
would face four other tenth grade
writers as one of the top five writers
in her grade in the entire state.
Finally, the day of the
competition arrived. It was a bright,
sunny, mild, Thursday morning.
Debbie woke up early to be ready for
her three hour drive with Mrs.
Woods. Debbie recognized that this
was a very important day, no matter
how the competition ended. She was
proud to have come so far, while at
the same time she was nervous about
the day ahead. Debbie stared at the
22 Writing Competition
clothes hanging in her closet. She
wanted to make the right impression.
Finally, she selected her most mature
outfit: a peach linen skirt suit, a white
blouse with a ruffled front and
ruffled cuffs, and high-heeled pumps.
She dressed carefully, brushing her
long, dark hair and pulling the front
hair back from her face with a
barrette at the back. Debbie looked
in the mirror and knew that she
looked very grown-up on the outside.
Inside, Debbie felt like a small,
frightened child.
Very soon, Mrs. Woods arrived
to pick Debbie up. They were both
quiet for much of the long drive that
morning. Mrs. Woods wanted to let
Debbie have time to relax and to
prepare herself for the busy day
ahead.
Writing Competition 23
When Debbie and Mrs. Woods
arrived at the university, they parked
near the building in which the
competition would be held. Inside,
the hallway was filled with people.
Debbie signed in at a table near the
entrance, then she was sent to wait
with a growing group of student
competitors. Debbie looked for a
familiar face, but was unable to find
anyone she knew.
Debbie and the others did not
have to wait long before they were
shown into a classroom. The room was
arranged very much as the room for
the regional competition had been
arranged. Debbie slipped into the
chair at her assigned desk. Two
sharpened pencils and a small, blue
composition notebook waited on the
desk, along with a sealed, white
envelope.
24 Writing Competition
A teacher entered the room as
soon as the twenty students were
seated. He moved to the front of the
room and welcomed the students to
the university. Debbie was too
nervous to focus on his words. The
teacher explained that the final level
of the competition consisted of two
essays. The students had one hour to
complete each essay, and there would
be a brief break between the essays.
Debbie looked at the sealed envelope
before her, fighting a sudden surge
of terror, as the teacher said that
the subject for the first essay was in
the envelope in front of her.
When the teacher said, “Begin!”
Debbie tore open her envelope and
read her first topic. She found that
she had to compare the views of
teenagers with the views of adults in
American society. Once again, all of
Debbie’s fear and tension melted away
Writing Competition 25
as she began to write. Just as she
had done at the regional competition,
Debbie wrote quickly and steadily.
When she finished her essay, only
forty minutes had passed. Debbie
went over her essay again, just to be
sure she had not missed anything,
then she turned in her composition
book and her topic. The teacher gave
her an odd look, glancing at the clock,
but he did not make a comment.
Debbie was confident that she had
given the essay her best effort, and
she smiled as she returned to her
seat to wait quietly for the other
students to finish writing.
The break was just long enough
for the students to use the rest room
and to get a drink of water. Very
quickly, Debbie found herself back at
her desk, facing another blue
composition notebook and another
sealed envelope. The second half of
26 Writing Competition
the morning was very much like the
first half. Debbie’s second topic was
to decide whether or not fantasy or
imagination was important in life, and
to support my position. Once again,
Debbie wrote quickly, the words
flowing out through her pencil. She
finished writing her essay in just over
thirty minutes and turned in her
materials.
As Debbie returned to her
seat, a boy in the twelfth grade row
at the back of the room leaned across
the aisle on her right. “Why’d’ya rush
like that?” he whispered. “You didn’t
even try!”
Debbie smiled at him and sat
quietly at her desk. The boy shook
his head, rolled his eyes, and returned
to his writing. A few minutes later, an
eleventh grade girl on the left smiled
at Debbie and gave her a thumbs-up
Writing Competition 27
as the girl returned from turning in
her essay. Debbie felt happy and
confident as she waited for the hour
to end.
“How do you think you did?”
Mrs. Woods asked as she and Debbie
ate their sandwiches in a sunny
courtyard a little while later. Mrs.
Woods had packed a picnic lunch in
case she and Debbie couldn’t find a
place near the university to buy lunch.
Debbie nodded as she
swallowed a bite of sandwich. “Okay,
I guess. I finished them both really
early.”
“You did your best though,
right?” Mrs. Woods pressed.
“Yeah, I did my best,” Debbie
replied. She told Mrs. Woods about
her two topics between bites of her
28 Writing Competition
ham sandwich that she washed down
with a can of Diet Coke.
Debbie and Mrs. Woods had the
afternoon free, so they walked around
the lovely, old, lakeside town, admiring
the buildings and gazing through shop
windows. Finally, they walked back up
the hill to the university for the
awards dinner.
Debbie sat next to Mrs. Woods at the
elegant dinner table for the awards
banquet that evening. The lights in
the room were turned down low and
the tables were draped with pristine,
white linen tablecloths. Many of the
competitors had family with them for
the evening, so the banquet room was
crowded, and it was noisy with talk
and laughter. Debbie was too nervous
to notice what she was eating. She
thought later that it might have been
chicken, but she could not be sure.
Writing Competition 29
The air crackled with expectancy and
anxiety. as the meal progressed,
conversations around Debbie and the
other students seemed stiff and
unnatural. Excited giggles gave way
to laughter that seemed just a bit too
loud and forced. Everyone was
waiting and trying to stay calm and
natural, and it was not working. By
the time the dessert dishes were
cleared, and the competition officials
stepped up to the podium, the air
practically sang with tension.
Debbie could hardly breathe
when the president of the university
began to read the names of the
winners. He started with the fourth
runner up in the twelfth grade. It
took a long time to go through the
list, and Debbie’s fist clenched at the
edge of the tablecloth as she tried to
calm her nerves. The president of
the university announced the third
30 Writing Competition
runner up for the twelfth grade.
There were cheers and applause as
each name was called, and each
student made his or her way through
the crowd of tables up to the podium.
Debbie’s heart raced as each name
brought her closer to her own grade.
Finally, they reached the tenth grade.
Debbie listened anxiously for
her own name as the president
announced the fourth runner up. She
felt a tingle of relief as another
student went up to receive the award.
She had not come in last.
Debbie held her breath. She
felt dizzy when her name was not
called for the third runner up and she
let out the breath. Debbie’s eyes
grew round with anticipation as
second runner up was announced. She
swallowed hard and her stomach
clenched into knots when another
Writing Competition 31
student went up to claim the second
runner up award. There were only two
tenth grade students left, and Debbie
was one of them.
Debbie felt paralyzed as the
official opened the card with the
name of the first runner up. She
strained forward in her chair as he
drew the name from the envelope.
Debbie felt sure the name he
announced would be hers, but she
hoped it would not be.
The president of the university
announced the name of the first
runner up for the tenth grade.
Debbie screamed as another student
rose to receive the award. She felt
as though her entire body had just
been released from suffocating
bonds.
Mrs. Woods laid a hand on
Debbie’s arm to steady her. Debbie’s
32 Writing Competition
eyes shone with joy and pride. Mrs.
Woods hugged her, and tears of relief
ran down both of their faces.
A few moments later, Debbie
heard her own name announced as the
first prize winner for the tenth
grade. She was dizzy with joy and
triumph as she made her way to the
front of the room. Flash bulbs went
off as newspaper photographers took
Debbie’s picture. She hardly felt the
floor under my feet as I went up to
receive my certificate and a check
for the prize money. Debbie heard
the applause in the room around her
as no more than a dim murmur in her
ears. Her body trembled with
emotion as she shook hands with the
president of the university. A
reporter asked her to smile for the
camera, and Debbie was sure life
couldn’t possibly be any better.
Writing Competition 33
Debbie returned to her seat. Mrs.
Woods hugged her again and
congratulated her for winning.
Debbie sat in a daze. She did not
even hear the ninth grade winners
announced. Nothing else mattered,
now that she had won. Debbie
bounced impatiently in her seat as she
waited for the ceremony to end so
she could call her mother with the
news.
There was a pay phone in the
corridor outside the banquet hall. As
soon as the awards ceremony was
over, Debbie hurried out to call home.
She called collect, and her mother
accepted the charges. She told Mom
everything that had happened, the
words tripping over each other in her
rush to get them all out.
“That’s great, Hon,” Mom said
when she could finally get a word in.
34 Writing Competition
“I had a really strong feeling that you
won, just a few minutes ago. I’m
proud of you.”
Debbie was exhausted from the
busy, stress-filled day. She slept in
the car as Mrs. Woods drove her
home.
“Thanks, Mrs. Woods,” Debbie
said as she climbed out of the car in
the dark driveway next to her house.
“You’re welcome,” Mrs. Woods replied.
“Rest tomorrow. See you in class on
Monday.”
Mrs. Woods backed out of the
driveway and drove away. Debbie
walked into the house through the
kitchen door. Mom and Nana were
waiting up for her to get home.
Debbie was just in time to see
herself on the late news. She sat in
the living room with Mom and Nana
Writing Competition 35
and told them all about her day. It
had been an amazing day, and sharing
it with her family was the perfect
ending Debbie could ask for.
36 Writing Competition
Author’s Note:
This is a true story of one of
the most exciting days of my life.
These are the two essays that I
wrote that morning at the University
of Vermont. I never got the local or
regional essays back, but photocopies
of my two final essays arrived in the
mail several days after the
competition.
Writing Competition 37
Teenagers Versus
Adults
May 9, 1985
Teenagers face many
difficulties in their lives today. One is
the need to express their feelings on
a variety of major issues. These
feelings are often very strong, and
are usually based upon the volatile
mixture of adult maturity and juvenile
innocence experienced by the great
majority of teenagers. For this
reason, the views of teenagers often
conflict with those of their elders.
One issue which is commonly
discussed between teenagers and
adults is that of the legal drinking
age. The feelings on this issue are
mixed in all quarters, but there seems
to be some prevalence in each case.
Adults tend to feel that the legal
drinking age should be very high, with
"very high" being used in relative
38 Writing Competition
terms. Teenagers, on the other hand,
tend to feel that the legal age should
be fairly low. Adults feel that the
youth of the world would be able to
drink more responsibly if their birth
certificates bore a given birth date.
Teenagers feel that responsibility
would become theirs if they were
treated as responsible citizens.
The conflict between teenagers
and adults concerning the drinking age
has caused some rather predictable
problems. Teenagers have found that
alcoholic beverages need not be
purchased in the liquor stores in their
states; they are readily available at
the stores on the far side of the
state lines. The young people find
that drinking out-of-state can be
more exciting than drinking at home.
There is a thrillingly dangerous
feeling associated with such renegade
activities.
A second problem caused by
the legal drinking age issue is an
increase in car accidents, and
accident related deaths, due to
Writing Competition 39
teenagers driving under the influence
They often feel that they must drive
themselves home immediately after a
drinking party, and seldom will a
member of a group abstain for an
evening in order to drive home safely.
The issue of apartheidism is
also quite prevalent in teenage-adult
conversations. Again, there is no
consensus on either side, but there is
a generalized reaction.
The adults of today were
subjected to the peace movements of
the 1960's. Their minds were
carefully and repeatedly subjected to
the concepts of peace and equality
for all. Some were even directly
involved with these movements.
Today's youth are faced with a
more conservative way of life. Change,
even when it appears to be part of a
bettering trend, is difficult for them
to accept. They tend to want the
framework of society to be made of
rigid steel, rather than pliant plastics.
They want a strong foundation for
40 Writing Competition
their lives; and they're used to
achieving it.
This difference of background
and opinion has caused a slight rift in
society. The elder generation seems
to be opposed to apartheidism, while
the younger generation seems to be in
favour of it. This is not to say,
however, that all adults desire
equality and all teenagers desire
dominance among the races; it is
often quite the opposite. I am simply
saying that this is what the trends
indicate.
The proposed "Star Wars" plan
is a third issue which has received
heated argument. Many adults feel
that the "Star Wars" plan is a simple
waste of tax monies. Many teenagers
callously believe that mankind's
exodus to the stars would be
beneficial.
The adult view is strongly
backed. So far, no one has found a
practical purpose for star travel. No
alien races have been discovered. No
inhabitable planets have been seen.
Writing Competition 41
Mankind has not, as yet, found his
brothers in the far cosmos.
The teenage point of view is
heavily biased by Star Wars, Star Trek, E.T., and Buck Rogers, to name a
few. The youth of the world see the
technology of the future in the
ventures of the present. They see
space travel as glamourous and
gratifying. They see it as mankind’s
escape from the noise and pollution,
overcrowding and starvation, of earth.
They see the stars as mankind's
Promised Land.
The conflict concerning the
space program has greatly affected
many people. A form of worldwide
paranoia has set in, and plagues the
hordes of people it has touched. The
world of the stars holds great fear
for many people. The possibilities for
life – and the possibilities for death –
are overwhelming.
The young people of our world
have a great deal of growing to do,
both physically and emotionally. The
42 Writing Competition
issues of today will ultimately take
part in forming the future.
Although it is not always
pleasant to face difficult issues, it is
a healthy way to learn. The youth of
today will be the adults - the parents,
teachers, and government leaders - of
tomorrow. They must have a steel-
girdered basis on which to build their
dreams, hopes, and goals. They must
be aware of all sides of every issue in
order to be successful adults.
Discussing the issues can be
frightening for teenagers, but it is
helpful in the long run to be able to be
involved in the discussions.
Whatever the issues, and
whatever the views, the conflicts of
the present will be printed indelibly
on the way of the future.
Writing Competition 43
The Importance of
Fantasy
May 9, 1985
Fantasy can be defined in many
ways. It can be defined as an escape
from the trials i\of the real world. It
can be defined as a way of buffering
the confusion of our fast-paced
society. It can be defined as wishful
thinking. It can be defined as a
fictional world coexisting with the
world we see with our eyes. I find the
second definition to be the most
inwardly satisfying of them all.
Fantasy plays ay important role
in our modern lives. it gives us an
outlet for our creative selves in a
society where rushing practicality is
generally favoured. This is necessary
because without such an outlet, our
creativity would eventually disappear.
The imaginative individuality of each
44 Writing Competition
person would be lost to a limbo, where
it would remain trapped forever. Each
person would then become,
essentially, a clone of each other
person. There would be no room in our
lives for the pleasures of distinct
selfness. The reality of ego would give
way to the separate reality of pure
logic.
Fantasy gives mankind a unique
means of looking at reality. It forces
each one of us to see what we could
become, given a proper amount of
drive. Through fantasy, we may find
secrets within ourselves. These
secrets might be positive or negative,
but either kind could be used to
improve our personal lives, and our
interactions with others.
Fantasy allows each person in
the world to play. Whatever form the
play might take, fantasy will always
add a dimension of relaxation and
enjoyment to it. Fantasy can make
such games as Cowboys-and-Indians,
House, and School seem real. To a
non-participant in the game, the
Writing Competition 45
fantasy is lost and the reality seems
foolish. To a participant, though, the
fantasy is omnipresent. It brings
broom-stick horses to life, makes
gourmet meals of mudpies, and gives
authority to a five-year-old teacher.
Fantasy has a part in adult
games as well. It adds adventure to
the on-going game of Life, instills
power in the participants of the game
of Parenting, and brings the game of
Death into sharp focus. Granted, Life,
Parenting, and Death are not
commonly considered to be games, but
they take on an aura typical of games
when they are coupled with fantasy.
Life loses some of its bitterness.
Parenting becomes a great pleasure.
Even Death is filled with joy in the
deceased's escape from the trials and
tribulations which affect all people.
Fantasy makes the world into a
game so that each of the world's
inhabitants can have a chance to sit
back, relax, and play life by a set of
rules. The rules that fantasy gives to
life are, one: slow down and take each
46 Writing Competition
even as it comes; two: everyone is as
lost as everyone else and each person
should help the other person to play
the game successfully; and three:
never let yourself be discouraged by
an unspoken rule of the game. The
rules are short, but often difficult to
obey. Each one of us is too strongly
conditioned with "rush," "fight," and
"survive" to play the game well, but
each believer in fantasy makes the
attempt.
Fantasy allows us to relax, to
put aside the problems of life, and to
rejoice in the individuals we are.
Fantasy, more than many
elements of life, is crucial to healthy,
emotional survival. Without fantasy,
life would not be worth living.
Writing Competition 47
Debbie Barry
and her husband
live in
southeastern
Michigan with
their two sons
and their two cats. The family enjoys
exploring history through French and
Indian War re-enactment and through
medieval re-enactment in the Society
for Creative Anachronism (SCA).
Debbie grew up in Vermont, where she
heard and collected many family
stories that she enjoys retelling as
historical fiction for young audiences.
48 Writing Competition
Also look for these titles by Debbie
Barry:
Books for Young Learners:
Around the Color Wheel
Colors and Numbers
Stories for Children:
Bobcat in the Pantry
Born in the Blizzard and Freshet
Expressing the Trunk
Gramp’s Bear Story
When Mary Fell Down the Well
History and Genealogy:
Family History of Deborah K. Fletcher
Grandma Fletcher’s Scrapbooks
Nana’s Stories
Property Deeds and other Legal
Documents of the Fletcher and
Townsend Families
Property Deeds and other Legal
Documents of the Fletcher and