The values paper is probably the hardest of all the narrative reflections I have students write. They have to tell a story about an experience that made them question, clarify, or solidify one of their values. This can be a pretty intense paper. I’ve written about my values of adventure, inclusivity, and curiosity.
This paper is like the sequel to “Adventurous Spirit.” I wrote the first after taking Sam backpacking to the Bench Lakes in the Sawtooths when he was 2.5. This one is about taking Naomi on that same hike when she was 3.5. It was just as challenging as before, but the experience was completely different. Come to think of it, I didn’t the hardest parts of the experience in this draft. There’s a good chance I’ll revise this one and develop it significantly. Any recommendations you might have for revision would be appreciated!
I Am Not Afraid
“I won’t carry this even one step further!” Sam yells down the trail at me, throwing his first big-kid backpack on the ground in the middle of trail. He plops down on a rock under a juniper tree, resting his back against a sagebrush, ignoring the branches poking through his shirt and into his head. He’s got a point to make and his disdain for comfort drives his point home.
Naomi, taking half-steps at a snail’s pace, is moving so slow that it takes us an eternity to reach Sam, mere yards ahead of us. She sits down next to Sam. “There’s dirt in my shoes,” she wails.
I drop my pack in the shade and lean against it. Naomi sticks her foot out and I take it off. I turn it over above the trail and a cloud of fine, powdery dust billows out.
The kids have reached their breaking points and I’m not far behind. I’m not physically tired, but I am tired of being a cheerleader for a bunch of grumps. Their bad attitudes wouldn’t normally worry me, but we are out of water and we need to finish the hike in order to get some. Chris has run ahead to pump water from the lake, but I’ve given up on him making a speedy come-back. We need to catch up and finish this hike once and for all.
I hear muffled voices and the sound of footsteps. A young couple emerges from behind a bend in the trail. They are packless and don’t seem to have even broken a sweat. How is it that their shoes and clothes are still so clean, while my two children and I look as though we had been wrestling in dust? Naomi’s dark hair is barely visible through the tan powder of trail dust. I start to get up to move Sam’s pack, but the woman waves her hand and jumps over it effortlessly. They are both wearing blue long sleeved crisp button down shirts with khaki shorts and brand new boots. They smell like sunscreen, which reminds me I need to reapply.
“Are we close to the lakes?” she asks.
“Not far. You’ll be there in no time.”
The man rests his walking stick on the side of the trail and takes a swig from his water bottle. “Are there a lot of people up there?”
“I don’t know. We haven’t made it yet today. A lot of people have passed us though.”
“Maybe we’ll see you when get up there.”
I laugh. “You’ll be long gone by the time we’re done. Gotta keep it fun for the kiddos!” I put my arm around Naomi, who has laid her head on my lap while looking at the man with shy, yet flirtatious eyes.
Sam interrupts, “This is my first backpacking trip. My backpack is 9 pounds. I’m seven years old. I go to Jefferson Elementary and my teacher’s name is …”
“Hey little dude, that’s awesome,” the young man says, putting his hand up for a fist bump.
“Bam!” Sam yells, bumping his fist then bringing his hand back with fingers flared like an explosion.
“I hope you know what a cool Mom you have,” the man confides in Sam. Sam looks at me with a puzzled expression.
“I think he’s a little too hot and tired to be impressed by anything. Maybe once we make it up to the lake he’ll change his tune.”
“Well, maybe not right now, but when he’s older I bet he’ll be singing your praises.”
He turns back to Sam. “Keep up the good work little dude.” They both wave as they march ahead.
As they reach a switchback on the trail, I overhear her saying, “Can you believe she’s out here with them all alone? And staying the night out here? That’s incredible.”
I almost call back to her to explain about Chris and the water, but I change my mind. Why not let them think I’m out here alone? Sure, Chris will be back with us soon enough, but the reality is that I am out here, three miles from the boat ramp, seven miles from the lodge, alone with two kids. Chris is almost a mile away from me. I look around at the thick trees surrounding me, the boulders blocking my path, the formidable mountain peaks beyond. I wonder what wild things might be lurking in the shadows. I grasp my bear mace instinctively.
But after that momentary flash of fear, I recover myself. I realize I am not afraid. Maybe I should be. But I’m not. I can do this.
“What do you think buddy? Have you had enough of a break?” I say to Sam, patting him on the leg. Naomi’s already standing up and tiptoeing ahead on the trail.
He stands up and takes a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m ready.”
“Do you need me to carry your pack for a while? I can strap it to my chest.”
“No Mom, it’s mine. I can do it.”
“Yes. Yes, you can.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
Taking My Own Freshman Composition Class 