- May 3, 2024
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Flagler Palm Coast High School sophomore Tessa Cauley wrote seven poems for the Josh Crews Writing Project anthology: "Hole," which she read from the stage at the book launch, "Empowered You," "Oblivion," "Age," "Dear Twin Brother," "Obsessive Thoughts," and "Yell at Me." Photo by Brent Woronoff
Old Kings Elementary School's Cooper Blaine and Coy Crews attended the book launch in disguise. Photo by Brent Woronoff
Rymfire Elementary School's Ryleigh Jeffries, Hayden Proulx-Barton and Skylar Mathson look through their books and listen to the student readers at the Josh Crews Writing Project book launch. Photo by Brent Woronoff
Rymfire Elementary School student-authors Marshall Porterfield-Delong, Ryleigh Jeffries, Hayden Proulx-Barton and Skylar Mathson with Rymfire teacher and club sponsor Lezlie Lawson. Photo by Brent Woronoff
Matanzas freshman Lupita Galeano holds up her story, "At The Starting Blocks," which she read from the stage at the book launch. Photo by Brent Woronoff
FPC sophomore Tessa Cauley reads her poem, "Hole," at the Josh Crews Writing Project Book Launch. Photo by Brent Woronoff
Wadsworth Elementary School fifth graders Emiline Morden and Madison Mott collaborated on two stories: "Rock, Paper, Scissors" and "The Shape War." They read "Rock, Paper, Scissors" from the stage at the book launch. Photo by Brent Woronoff
Flagler Palm Coast freshman Muhammad Khawaja wrote the story, "Atlantica." Photo by Brent Woronoff
Bunnell Elementary School fourth grader Noelle Iglesias with club sponsor Danielle Houser. Noelle wrote a who done it called, "Who Did It?" Photo by Brent Woronoff
Matanzas High School freshman Lupita Galeano with Matanzas teacher and Josh Crews Writing Project sponsor Olivia McLean. Galeano, a runner on the Pirates' track team read her story, "At The Starting Blocks," on stage at the book launch. Photo by Brent Woronoff
The student-authors sat at long tables in the back and along one side of the Buddy Taylor Middle School cafeteria. They flipped through their books, listened as selected students read their stories and poems and then signed their selections for classmates and parents.
The Flagler County Education Foundation celebrated the 13th annual Josh Crews Writing Project Book Launch on Wednesday, April 17. Over 200 selections by Flagler Schools’ second through 12th graders were included in the 2024 edition of “Write On”.
The project was established in the memory of Flagler Palm Coast High School graduate Josh Crews, an avid reader and writer who tragically died in an automobile accident in 2010.
Florida writing standards mostly focus on argumentative or informational writing, Ed Foundation Executive Director Teresa Rizzo said. The project gives students a chance to write creatively, she said.
April Adams (elementary schools) and Julie Hald (secondary schools) coordinate the project. Each of the district’s nine schools has a Josh Crews Writing Project club with a teacher/sponsor. The Ed Foundation hosts a gala in the fall to raise money for the book printing and to pay the sponsors.
This year’s anthology lists 115 authors. The selections include essays, stories and poems ranging from whimsical to autobiographical, fantasy to heartbreak.
“It’s so neat to flip through the book and see the progression from elementary to middle school to high school and what they’re thinking about in that time of their life,” Rizzo said.
This year’s book is dedicated to Melanie H. Crews, Josh Crews’ mother, who died on Jan. 29.
To order an anthology, go to flagleredfoundation.org/how-to-help/ and click on 2024 JDC Book.
Here are a few selections from thiOver 100 s year's anthology:
Emiline Morden and Madison Mott, 5th grade, Wadsworth Elementary School
In a world of rock, paper, and scissors. Rock, Paper, and Scissors are at war. “Rock! Paper! Scissors! Shoot!” Rock and Scissors have been chosen. Rock slams down on Scissors. Scissors are no more. Police sirens wail! Rock runs but gets caught.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Rock bangs on the cell doors. The bars break into pieces and Rock is free. Rock is back but with his new opponent, Paper. “Rock! Paper! Scissors! Shoot!” This time Rock is defeated. Police all over, sirens wailing, lights flashing. Paper is taken to jail. Paper manages to slip out from under his cell door. Paper is free to commit more crimes and lives to see another day.
Days pass, then months, that turns into years. Paper is now the winner, the evil mastermind, the greatest at Rock! Paper! Scissors! Shoot!
Mia Fae Hyder, 5th grade, Wadsworth Elementary School
In the night sky,
Little white lights twinkle.
So bright even from light years away.
As the wind blows through my hair,
And the trees shake and ruffle.
The moon pops out brighter than the sky.
Spencer Stokes, 4th grade, Rymfire Elementary School
Molded into a perfect statue,
formed to be a perfectionist all the time.
Taking time to be molded together,
taking time to actually shape.
I’m trying my hardest don’t you see?
Why aren’t you proud of me?
The sounds of your disappointed sigh
is enough to make me cry.
I wish I could, I wish I could try,
try and be perfect for you.
Because what you say
can change my point of view.
I stand there being molded again,
hoping this time I can be perfect.
I can be more than unique.
I just hope that you’re proud of me.
Lupita Galeano, 9th grade, Matanzas High School
The sun was blazing overhead, there was a slight chill in the air and everything was perforct for a fast race. The crowd was gong wild, the starter poised and ready to begin, coaches and teammates on the sidelines. The atmosphere was perfect. My spikes were double-knotted, perfectly set and measured. I was ready. Everything was perfect as all those thoughts raced through my head as I walked to the starting blocks. I took a breath and got into position. Just a moment later, the gun was shot, and I was off.
Looks can be deceiving. I know this from first-hand experience. I never would have imagined my daughter would be a runner. She didn’t get that from me, but she is pretty amazing in my eyes. I shake off all of my wandering thoughts and focus on my daughter in position to start her race. I scoot toward the edge of the stadium bench and anxiously await the starter to raise the starter pistol. BAM! The runners take off and I watch my daughter take place in the back position of the group.
My start was slow but I didn’t let that discourage me. My starts always are, but I never claimed them to be one of my strong suits. As soon as I took my first few strides, the two white lines marking my lane on the track came into stark focus. The cheers from the spectators in the stadium begin to soften and the whole world around me starts to fade away. I start off the race towards the back of the pack but I quickly gain momentum and I soon am leading the race.
Running was my thing. I didn’t look like your typical runner or act like one for that matter. When I was younger, everyone saw me as an extremely hard-working student who always got good grades. Let’s just say I sort of surprised everyone. Despite all of this, I always could turn towards running. It saved me from the menacing storm of thoughts swarming through my head. The adrenaline that I feel when I am on the track and the burning sensation in my legs that feels like an accomplishment isn’t something that can be explained; yet, it feels incredible. Almost as if you walked right up to Heaven’s golden gates. I can’t ever change it or give it up, it is now a part of me that feels almost crucial to life.
I anxiously hold my breath and watch as my daughter starts creeping up behind the other runners, eventually passing them and leading the pack. They haven’t even made it to the fifty-meter mark and she falls. I shoot up from my seat and scream. I start dashing down the bleachers toward the track and quickly get stopped by one of the officials. I didn’t see what happened to her, you rarely ever do. In these situations, things happen so fast and all you see is a bunch of tiny blurs running like the wind around the track. I need to know what happened and see if she is ok.
I am now leading the pack of sprinters and we have almost made it to the fifty-meter mark and I feel myself becoming weaker. There was nothing I could do, so I kept running but it wasn’t a good decision. I knew what was going to happen, I just didn’t want to acknowledge it. The change in my form was subtle, only a coach or at least another athlete watching extremely closely would be able to notice. I knew what was about to happen in the next second would be something that would catch everyone’s eyes. I beg myself not to fall. I prayed that I would at least be able to finish the race, unfortunately, I had no such luck. Suddenly, I collapsed on the track with hundreds of people watching.
Finally, I open my eyes and despite all my fears, I let my worries fade away, at the starting blocks.
