My Exploration

Please excuse my broken English due to the lack of practice I get in my six years of being in Jakarta, Indonesia. I also terribly apologize for any misspellings and if I did not do you justice in these stories.             I want to start a series about my time in America. It won’t necessarily be chronological. I haven’t even decided on a title. So, why am I writing this? Well, Evanston has always had a special place in my heart. I want to share my love to the world.   I also do not want to forget anything later on.             Last night, I visited Walker through my dreams. It was amazing. I miss it. I want my readers to feel what it was like to walk on the floors of Walker. Here goes.             Walker Elementary School stands in Skokie, Illinois. 3601 Church St, I still have it memorized. That is also the code for lockdown drills. If the principal stated the address correctly, it meant it was already safe. Walker is part of District 65, along with 11 other elementary sc

If on our late night calls you want a story, Ask me about Evanston and Chicago, And all things between. Ask me to describe How the summer breeze and the lake tides Rolled into one amazing feeling. Ask me to describe The rumbling of the CTA train As dad left for work. Ask me to describe How the flurries felt Against my tongue stuck out. Ask me to describe The wind in my hair As I strolled down Navy Pier. Ask me to describe How dandelions bloomed among Ridgeville’s grass, As I lay on my back with the sun shining bright on my face. Ask me to describe How it felt to learn In a school that makes studying fun. Ask me to describe How it felt to have almost nothing, Yet everything as well. When I look at a picture of Evanston or Chicago, I feel it is my home. Jakarta is not, Though my family is. Ask me to describe How it felt To be at home. - brought alive from an archive , April 12th 2020