Kate Jentz was thrilled enough to win the Indiana creative writing contest from the American Immigration Council.
The topper came when the Carmel 11-year-old recently learned she had also won the national competition.
“Hearing that my poem won the whole contest was the most shocking and exciting news of my life,” Jentz said.
Jentz will read her poem at the American Immigration Council’s American Heritage Awards gala June 21 in Kissimmee, Fla. It will be held during the American Immigration Lawyers Association’s Annual Conference. Jentz and her parents, Brian and Ansley Jentz, will receive an all-expenses paid trip, including the flight and three-night stay.
Jentz’s entry will appear in the summer issue of Skipping Stones magazine, a nonprofit publication for youth that encourages communication, cooperation, creativity and celebration of cultural and environmental richness. She will receive a free subscription for herself and her teacher and copies of the magazines.
The state contest was sponsored by AILA Indiana Chapter and Exodus Refugee Immigration.
Jentz, who recently completed fifth grade at Towne Meadow Elementary School, was honored for her state-winning creative writing entry, a poem entitled “Tell Me A Story,” in the “Why I Am Glad America Is a Nation of Immigrants” contest. She read the poem during a naturalization ceremony May 16 at Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Park in Indianapolis.
“It was cool because this is a really big moment in their lives,” Jentz said. “For me to be part of it was really special.”
The creative writing opportunity was an option in her class.
Jentz, an avid reader and writer, said the purpose is to portray “how immigration affected your life or your loved ones’ life and how it benefits America.”
Ansley Jentz said she is thankful her daughter’s teacher, Lisa Kuhn, shared the information on the contest.
“It led to an awesome experience and opportunity for Kate,” Ansley said.
A project her brother, Jack, had done when he was younger inspired Jentz’s poem. Jentz had learned from that of her grandfather’s tale of his relatives’ immigration from Germany.
Jentz’s fictional account is based on an immigrant from Spain.
“It has stanzas of four, with two- and four-rhyme,” Jentz said. “I just thought poetry was the best way to portray it. Poetry is packing a punch with far less words. To describe the whole story in storybook form in 500 words would have been really hard.”
Tell Me A Story
By: Kate Jentz
The rain splashes down
It covers the world
Like a blanket of water
That’s been gently unfurled
Drops land on the window
Knocking to come in
I open my book
I’m ready to begin
But the book has no words,
Not a single at all
I drop the book
And watch it fall
I grab my coat
And head for the door
I’m searching for stories
I’m searching for more
Up the avenue
Across the street
Lies an old house
With people to meet
Wind in my hair
Hope in my eyes
My Abuela steps onto the porch
Where a story lies
“Tell me a story.”
That’s what I say
To my grandmother
On that rainy day
She responds with a smile
And points to a chair
Abeula begins
As rain splashes her hair
She tells of festivals,
Dances and lights,
Fiestas and siestas
On warm summer nights
“This is my story.”
Abuela starts to explain
“I was a little girl
Living in Spain.”
“Why did you leave?”
I wonder aloud
Her shoulders square
Tall and proud
“There was a war
That broke out
Our family fled
And traveled about
Looking for a home,
Safe and sound
America
Was the land we finally found
I met new people
From all different places
Everyone was unique
All different races.”
Her smile twinkles
And a tear slips by
“America is beautiful”
Is all I reply
“America is beautiful.”
Abuela says loud and bold
“Every immigrant has a story and every story must get told.”
I listen as her words fill my heart
Every culture is beautiful
Like a piece of art
I smile to myself
Knowing that it’s true
“America is beautiful
Because of immigrants like you.”
I look at Abuela
As I utter these words
She simply points to the sky
She points at the birds
The eagles glide
And soar through the air
A rustle of wind
Blows through my hair
I step off the porch
To get a better view
Abuela smiles
And steps down, too
Our eyes meet
As Abuela starts to speak
She grabs my hand
And the eagles reach their peak
“You have to stay strong
Like an eagle with might
When things get tough
You have to fight.”
“Thank you!”
I call as I start to leave
I know what to do
I have a story to weave
Down the avenue
Across the street
Lies my house
With people to greet
Hope in my eyes
Wind in my hair
I rush inside
With lots to share
I dash to my bedroom
Pick the book off the floor
And write Abuela’s story
Until my hand is sore
I think about Abuela,
America’s glory,
And immigrants’ impact
On our country’s story
I’m busy working
When I hear a knock
“Come in!” I call
The only response is a quiet walk
I set down my pen
My sister walks in
She asks for a story
And so, I begin