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A New PerspectiveBy Brennan Bahr

Cover Art by Mikaela Gurney

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Dedicated to my parents, because without them, none of this would be possible.

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Table of Contents

.......................................................................................................................My Name! p.4

........................................................................................................................Pokemon! p.5

..................................................................................................................People Skills! p.6

...............................................................................................................Wisconsin Life! p.7

..................................................................................................................Overreaction! p.8

...........................................................................................Christmas in Another Home! p.9

......................................................................................................Poems About Work! p.10

.......................................................................................................Loud and Beautiful! p.11

.......................................................................................................................Running! p.12

....................................................................................................................Neighbors! p.13

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My Name

! Brennan Jae Bahr. Honestly, I had no real interest in my name. I used to just have people call me Brandon just for the sake of simplicity. In fact, I’ve had substitute teachers call me Brianna a few time. But when I was younger, everyone at my daycare called me “Brenny”, which makes me cringe just thinking about it, but made me realize I have a long history with my name.!! According to mother, I got my name from Brennan’s, “one of the nicest restaurants in New Orleans and exudes southern grace and charm”. I find this odd, because I’m from Wisconsin (as much as my mother hates to admit) and have almost no “southern” traits. I have about as much charm as an amateur car salesmen and I’m as graceful as a model tripping on the runway. According to the internet, Brennan comes from Irish and Gaelic origin, and means “Raven” and “Tear drop”. In that respect, maybe I should have just been named “Depression” just to keep things simple.! Please don’t make me talk about my middle name. It’s not so much I’m ashamed of the name itself, I just prefer not to tell people. It is a shortened “boy” version of my grandmother Jackie’s name. Don’t get me wrong, I love my grandma, but even when my parents purposed naming me after her, she said I would be ridiculed by my unfortunate initials. My grandmother should be a fortune teller.! All in all, I think my name is “okay”. I guess you can call it unique, which is a common description of my personality. Changing my name is not an option at this point, and besides, like I said in the beginning, I really don’t care. I’ve had nicknames ranging from “Toast” to “Spawn”. Just whatever you decide to call me, Brenny is not an option.

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Pokemon

! Ever since I can remember, I’ve played video games. Gameboy, Game Cube, and as much more. It sounds very lame, but what else was I supposed to do? My brother never wanted to do anything I was interested in. My parents were usually working and didn’t have time to do anything. ! The main game I played had to be Pokemon. I had to have all the games, all the cards, all the dollars and dollars of merchandise. I even had Pokemon underwear. That was one game I played with all of my friends and cousins. It was simple enough for me to actually progress, and had enough challenge for when my friends and I were angry at each other and wanted to battle. Plus, trying to catch every single on the the mutated monsters seemed like a challenge, as well as a time sink. ! Pretty much everyone just lay their things away from their childhood and go on to maturity. It’s pretty sad actually. Putting away things that define who you in order to progress into something everyone else thinks you are. I did too. It’s kind of a requirement of growing up. ! I still play video games. I’m still not so hooked on the newest Call of Duty fad that everyone seems to love. I like games that tell stories like novels and challenge your mind like a puzzle. All of my friends seem to think the same thing, which is why they’re my friends. The medium of video games is very under rated in my option. Often passed of as a way kids waste their time inside, being unproductive. My parents said that. My grandma said my mom would waste most of her time sitting and reading on such a gorgeous day. Maybe its a fight not worth fighting- because it looks like it’s in every generation.

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People Skills

! “You really need to work on your people skills if you want to make it to state.” Like it’s that simple. When I’m talking to people I’m not familiar with, my grammar becomes terrible, I slur my speech, and I cannot control the volume of my voice most of the time. I wish I could just wake up one day and suddenly my awkwardness fades away and I can talk to anyone without being flooded with anxiety. If only it was that easy.! Don’t get me wrong, I have tried. I joined Mock Trial this year to work on being quick with retorts and speaking loud and clear. I was picked to play the role of Leslie St. Peter, a kid being accused of shooting his classmate. When the day came for the case, and I was the next witness up to the stand, I was never so scared in my life. My body was trembling, my heart rate sky rocketing, but I had to get it over with. My lawyer Alex and I ended up with great reviews and we won our case. ! I also joined DECA to work on speaking professionally to people with higher authority. I had to do a role play a job interview with a person who asks me about the importance of Email marketing in the work place. Sitting at the table, I shook his and and told him my name. Then he said, “Let’s get this role play started!”. Maybe he missed the point. I got an OK score on that, but it wasn’t bad for my first shot. ! My mom always apologized for me when I was younger because I was extremely shy. Maybe it will be something I outgrow. People aren’t that scary, and maybe it’s more of I need to break lose the shackles of judgement and drop my guard for once in my life.

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Wisconsin Life

! I think I like living in a small town. Not a ton of stuff happens, it’s true, but that’s a great quality. Less drama, less violence, and less to worry about.! I switch between my mom and dad’s houses every week, which I kinda like. I get to experience life living up on The Ridge, four wheeling and walking throughout the fields at my dad’s too messy old farm house, then on Friday I go to suburbia, running on the bike trail and being next to everything at my mom’s too clean house. The juxtaposition I experience every week I feel is a great experience. Getting a fresh start on Fridays, like hanging out with friends in my mom’s basement or working the Friday rush at my dad’s restaurant, it seems almost ideal.! Small town charm is an over used term, and it also has an unfortunate backside. It is a place where ignorance blossoms like a weed in the almost perfect garden. I’ve lost track how many times I’ve been called gay for dressing like I do, and not the “stereotypical” farm dress. This community is obsessed with stepping out any sprout of self expression and labeling it as being homosexual. The fact we have such great art programs shocks me. Nothing can be perfect.! All in all, I live in a pretty nice place. No it’s not perfect, but really nothing is. When I hear classmates complain online about how much it “sucks to live in this redneck town”, I guess some people really don’t know what they have. This is my home, and I think I do like.

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Overreaction

! Inside recess in 4th grade. We were just finishing up a lengthy session of Junior Achievement, and I received sticky notes. I fanned through the notes, not sure what I would do with them. After about 3 minutes of realizing they were pretty useless, the bell rang. I walked down the hall when it hit me- pranking! Kick me signs on peoples back were a classic prank, and it would make the hour fly.! We arrived in the cramped multi-purpose room flooded with broken toys and yelling kids. I took out the first note in scribbled in my almost illegible hand writing “Kick Me!” I started giving the notes out to my friends left and right spreading the hilarity with as many people as possible. ! Suddenly I meet an Aid eye to eye and she grabs my accomplice and I and ships us off to the office. She describes with outrageous details how terrible children we were being and didn’t spare a detail. My friend and I sit in the small, windowless room with nothing to do but stare at the walls until they tell us to go get lunch and come right back, then they’ll talk about punishment.! We walk with our heads hanging and grab our lunches. On our way back to the office, we pass the Aid who ratted our out. She looks over, and hisses with a snake-like grin, “Good luck!”. My blood is boiling by the time we’re back. We get assigned to write letters to the people we “hurt” and by the time I get home I get screamed at. ! I still see the Aid once in a while when I walk through the hall way. I’m not one to hold grudges, but refuse too even acknowledge her existence.

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Christmas in Another Home

! Near the end of 3rd grade, my mom decided to move back to the Lacrosse are to be closer to my brother and I. Her and dad were still fighting, and I could only see her every other weekend. My mom was job hunting at the time and she was staying at friends houses. ! Staying with our mom was kinda hectic. We usually had to share the same bed, some of her friends didn’t like kids, and we really didn’t have much to do. Saying this, I’m not trying to say I didn’t like staying with her. My mother was always enjoyable to be around. Plus, since she was in Lacrosse, we no longer had to drive 2 hours just to see her. ! The holidays were coming up and life went on as usual. Though I was younger, I knew not to expect a lot from my mom, and that was fine. We had our christmas at my grandpa’s on my dad’s side as usual, then went back and spent the eve at my dad’s. In the morning my dad drove us down to Lacrosse to see my mom. ! My brother and I walked through the front door of my mom ‘s friends house, not sure what to expect. Suddenly, we’re slapped in square in the face with a wall lined with brightly wrapped gifts. My heart skips a beat and I just hugged my mom. This is more than I could have ever wished for.

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Poems About Work

Dish Washer

DirtyIntense as the Superbowl ScrubbingHard

WashingAnythingSanitizeHurryEnterRetrieve

Restaurant

RunningEntertainingSmileTalkAllow anotherUnexpectedRushAnotherNightThrough

Bar

Bad beerAlcoholic adults Regret and fear

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Loud and Beautiful

! In the past two years my dad has a made a tradition of going to Summerfest in Milwaukee. He says it’s our vacation, the only one he takes us on. Last summer was a bit different. My dad was sick, and being stubborn as a mule, he didn’t want to go to the hospital. So I just ended up loading up the car and went with his girlfriend Amy and her son Ethan. ! We picked out the bands we were excited about seeing- Amy and Ethan wanted to see the Dirty Heads, a band that sings about living by the lake in a cabin and not having a care, and I wanted to see one of my favorite post-hardcore band We Came As Romans. Both of these bands were performing at the same time, which was just fine. They can watch their band, I’ll watch mine. ! Amy shows them our tickets and were in. We walk around the grounds looking at new bands blossoming onstage. We eat food, have fun with the street performers, and finally the time has come. ! I decided to go to the Dirty Heads first out of curiosity. We arrive to a group of people tripping over themselves and spilling their beers while trying to conceal the blunt they’re passing around. After putting up with the pungent smell of the crowed, the band walks on stage and starts rapping. I looked at Ethan to see he was looking at me. We left to go see my band.! Cutting through the crowed, we find a spot on some bleachers. The band starts playing and my mind is blown. The sounding storming from the stage rips through the cold air and warms the crowed, which echoes in return screams and cheers of delight. Ethan taps my shoulder and I think he says he’s going back- and I don’t care. I push further and further forward to get a better look. Head banging, swaying, and yelling. Time blurs and the band walks off after their encore. My heart is soaring and I have a smile a mile wide from the shear power of the performance. Amy and Ethan ask if I had a good time, and that’s an understatement.!

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Running

! Left right left right. Breathe in 3 steps, breathe out 3 steps. I joined cross country in 6th grade as my first sport that was with the school. “Maybe this will be easy”, I thought, “I’m great at running!”. I would like to slap 6th grade Brennan square in the face.! The first week or so was terrible. Every 10 feet I would have to take a walking break. Every weak muscle in my body was screaming at me for being lazy. With the first meet coming up, I had never been more nervous in my entire life. The gun went off, I sprinted ahead, and finished last.! Humiliated, I went home and refused to speak to anyone. But I didn’t give up. The next race I finished second to last. After that I finished 4th to last. I kept progressing and progressing every race, season, year. ! I joined track in the spring. First race I tied with my friend Dan in last. Except this time, we were smiling like idiots and didn’t really care. I keep trying at it, and I end up getting first in a couple heats. Who would have thought?! Running is now one of my favorite things to do. I love to run as soon as the snow melts and the sun peeks through the clouds, I love to run when the sun is scorching the earth, on the bike trail where the sun cannot find me no matter how hard it looks. I love to run.

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Neighbors

NeighborsFriendly Fun

Smiling Waving FakingLike Untruthful Forced Children

Strangers

DisagreementPassive Aggressive

Throwing Shoveling MowingWe Are Silent Enemies

Boundaries

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