Paddlestar Galactica, the ping-pong tournament event supporting 826DC’s programs, returns on Saturday, April 27th, 1 PM to 4 PM at SPIN DC! Learn more and sign up here.
By: Christopher M.

My Life as a Dog/Shark

This November, 826DC is thrilled to publish our very first compendium: a collection of the best of the best from our first five years. To celebrate the release here on the blog we will be posting a weekly podcast consisting of selections from the book, read aloud by students, volunteers, staff, and other friends of 826DC. So find a comfy spot and get ready to listen, savor, and share the words of our most inspiring young authors. This project is made possible in part by support from AT&T Aspire.

You Will Be Able to Say a Thousand Words collects the best writing from 826DC’s first five years of running fun and unique writing-based programs. Spanning genres and styles, students ages 6-18 imagine dangers on the high seas, struggles with bullying, and mourn loved ones. From advice to their former selves to advice for the reader, students begin a journey that starts on the page and ends in the boundlessness of the imagination.

This week’s featured piece from the collection is “My Life as a Dog/Shark” by Christopher M., first published in our “Smell This Story!” writing workshop. Reading it for us is 826DC Programs Director Lacey Dunham, self-proclaimed book nerd and cat wrangler.


yabp 9

My agenda: Sniff something gross, save people from jellyfish, then poop everywhere and wait for people to step in it.

All around me there was sand and water.

“Help!” someone screamed.

“Sounds like jellyfish are attacking again,” I said. I jumped into action, ran into the water, swam over to that person, and bit the jellyfish without getting shocked. “Here comes my favorite part,” I thought.

“Thank you” said the person. “Here’s your 250 sausage bites.”

Mmmmmmm, they smelled good.  I said, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to smell some butts.” I think someone farted in my face when I tried to smell their butt.

By: Tiana

My Mother’s Shirt

My favorite shirt was handed down to me

From my mother dearest.

I was ten at the time.

She said it came from the year 1996.

From the moment I got it,

I felt everything my mother felt.

Like the time I was in her belly,

And she was wearing the shirt

To the supermarket,

So she could pick up our food.

I wonder what it was like for her

To try to stretch it over

Her pregnant belly, because

The size was a small

And thinking about her belly

Going into that shirt is a mystery.

I could feel me in that shirt,

And I wonder how is that possible.

By: Danielle

I Been Here Since I Been Born

This November, 826DC is thrilled to publish our very first compendium: a collection of the best of the best from our first five years. To celebrate the release here on the blog we will be posting a weekly podcast consisting of selections from the book, read aloud by students, volunteers, staff, and other friends of 826DC. So find a comfy spot and get ready to listen, savor, and share the words of our most inspiring young authors. This project is made possible in part by support from AT&T Aspire.

You Will Be Able to Say a Thousand Words collects the best writing from 826DC’s first five years of running fun and unique writing-based programs. Spanning genres and styles, students ages 6-18 imagine dangers on the high seas, struggles with bullying, and mourn loved ones. From advice to their former selves to advice for the reader, students begin a journey that starts on the page and ends in the boundlessness of the imagination.

This week’s featured piece from the collection is “I Been Here Since I Been Born” by Danielle Bedney, first published in Everyone is Moving No One in Place. Reading for us this week is Sujan Sedhai, a member of the intrepid Editorial Board who helped select the great works you’ll find in this collection.


yabp 2

I been here since I been born

This place here is my home

I’m used to seeing ice cream trucks on every corner,

and kids outside playing hopscotch.

But now I’m seeing new buildings and stores

Prices are rising

People are struggling harder than before

This is what happens when the gentrification begins.

You think you’re helping us but you’re making money,

And at the end my people aren’t left with any, honey.

By: Rashawnda

Down Below

We sit vigil with candles, clouds

Embracing your memory silence

It becomes a river book of sadness ink that I cannot comprehend

The whisper song of voices dreams claiming you a dancer floater,

Just a dancer floater

You hurt me to my core where the center of the earth is

You are not far near just down below above if I bothered to look down

You are forever with me; your stomach was all I knew

Darkness quiet, nine months, will you wait for me?

I will follow in your footsteps, I promise you,

Even if it leads me to a valley of decay.