Dear Grace Cavalieri,
Your poem, “Safety” caught my eye very quickly and I keep going back to it to analyze or relate to. It honestly might have been that the structure of the poem made it look shorter than the others, but when I read it I realized that I know the feeling you talk about. I understood the emotion in the lines, “Although we were young, you were 15 and I was 13, since then, / I’ve never / known the world without you. Now I must be 12.” You might be thinking, how could a 16-year-old have any idea of how this feels? Well, my best friend growing up isn’t my best friend anymore. Nothing traumatic and heart-breaking happened between us, but I haven’t seen him in 8 years. The last time I saw him was at the annual end of summer party in elementary school. We played wall-ball with my friend Abigail and then I said good night and jumped in my dad’s car. If someone told me that that would be the last time I saw my best friend for over 8 years, I wouldn’t have believed you. I would have thanked him for sticking up for me and told him to keep in touch, no matter how old we got. A lot of time has gone by and I forgot that we were even close till my mom mentioned it was his 14th birthday and showed me a photo of him that his mother posted on Instagram. I didn’t recognize him when I saw the photo 2 years ago, so I don’t think we would even notice if we walked past each other on the street. Maybe one day I will see Turner again, but for now, he remains a memory from another life and a stranger in this one.
This poem taught me that respect doesn’t only come to those that are leaders, but to the ones who protect us. In this poem, safety comes in the physical form, where the boy is your soldier, your guard. In my life, Turner was my best friend, my first crush, and the first person I remember who looked out for me. We were both the younger siblings of the family and whenever I wanted to play with the older kids, I was normally excluded and pushed to the side. He would pick me back up and tell me something like “they are losers anyway,” or “come on let's go find the others, they want to play Mario Kart.” Whenever he would choose me over the big kids or his guy friends, he would get teased on, but he never seemed to regret his decision. I remember him as you remember the person you speak of. I respected him because he looked out for others instead of himself. This isn’t to say he wasn’t a trouble maker, because he was, he was a 7 year old boy so I don’t blame him. Although he was known for being a rebel when wanting to be, he somehow always found a way to be my crossing guard. He was the crossing guard for me and many of our other friends and that is why this line reminded me of him, “no one bruised another, caused trouble, or so much as threw a / stone—.” We respected him because he cared for me and my friends despite any problems in his life. Your school respected the boy you speak of because he resolved conflict and stuck up for what is right. He kept this respect throughout his whole life. This poem shows that respect is given to those who care, who protect, and those who leave a good memory.
Throughout the poem there are certain words that are separated from their connecting lines that show where a breath would be if reading it outloud, for example, “No one / was disobedient when you wore that wide yellow strap across / your chest— / no one bruised another, caused trouble, or so much as threw a / stone—.” There are many spaces and it makes me read the poem as if there is a lot of emotion. There is a sadness that lingers, but with that the spacing gives me a sense that there is also strength involved. The placement of the breaks makes me think of a woman telling a story, but when she tells it, she remembers him as a light. That light isn’t there anymore, but she doesn’t regret ever having it. This poem also has a theme of honor, till the end. She describes this boy as a hero and a monumental person in this junior high school. He is essential for safety and happiness. At the end, the honor isn’t disregarded, but it is no longer acknowledged. The speaker isn’t angry and disappointed with the boy, but the honor she once associated with him is gone, because he is now absent from her life. When did he become a stranger? I often think about that when I think of Turner, so now I ask you. If you saw him again, would you get a rush of security and joy, or would you walk past as if he never was the brave man in uniform that you once knew? Did you know it was the last time you said goodbye when you did and what happened to him?
Thank you for inspiring me,
Mary Blake
Grade 10
Houston, TX