About Me:

Aloha! I'm Wendy Kennar. I'm the mother of a seven-year-old son and a wife living in Los Angeles. I was a public school teacher for twelve years until a chronic medical condition made it necessary to leave my teaching career.

I've always been described as "quiet" - really, I'm just biting my tongue. I've got lots to say, and lots of thoughts to share, I just prefer to write them. That's the purpose of this blog. Each Wednesday, I post a personal essay offering my observations and thoughts.

A few fun facts about me: I've wanted to be a writer since second grade, when my teacher, Mrs. Jones, made me a "book" with a yellow construction paper cover. I have never learned to whistle, have always preferred sunflowers to roses, and have spent my life living within the same zip code.

Through the years, my writing has been published in the Los Angeles Times, Christian Science Monitor, United Teacher, GreenPrints, L.A. Parent, DivineCaroline.com, RoleReboot.org, XOJane, and Brain, Child Magazine. Additionally, my personal essays have been included in several anthologies, including: The Barefoot Review, Beyond the Diaper Bag, Lessons From My Parents, Write for Light, Being a Grown-Up: A User's Manual for the Real World, Ka-Pow!, How Writing Can Get You Through Tough Times, Breath and Shadow, The Grey Wolfe Storybook, and Sisters Born, Sisters Found.
I am a regular contributor at MomsLA.com, and you can also find me at Goodreads.

Thanks for stopping by and reading my blog. Feel free to comment and share my blog with others!

Wednesday, October 7, 2015

My Unintentional Time Capsule

   I recently spent some time looking through a time capsule of sorts.  I say “of sorts” because it’s a rather unintentional time capsule.  It’s more like something from the past that’s been sitting in my closet, and I hadn’t really taken the time to go through it until now.

   This time capsule takes the form of my college backpack.

   I don’t remember how long I used this backpack, and I vaguely remember a different one I used before this one.  But this is the one that I used to finish up my classes, earn my B.A. degree, and graduate Summa Cum Laude.  This is the one that has had a spot in my closet since I “retired” it upon graduating in 2001.

   Back then, my backpack had to be a sort of “survival kit.”  For most of my college years, I didn’t use a car for my daily commute, so my backpack had to have everything I might need for the day -- books, coursework, Walkman (remember those?), money, Kleenex, food.  Back then, I was out of the house for most of the day.  I felt so far away from home, even though I was just “over the hill” at California State University Northridge.

   I went through my backpack, checked all the zippered compartments (all empty), and fingered the key rings.  One from Lake Arrowhead, one from Sea World.  I looked at the buttons -- one featuring the Earth, a scuffed up “Just Do It” pin, one for Laguna Beach, another for Santa Barbara, one reminding me to “Practice Random Acts of Kindness.”

   Inside my backpack, I found my notebook.  Still with dividers and extra sheets of paper.  And still with a written copy of  my last semester’s schedule -- a Kinesiology class and two English classes.

      Inside the notebook, I found my “feel good reminders.”  A typed copy of Maya Angelou’s Phenomenal Woman.  A small credit-card-sized card with a “Follow Your Dream” poem on it.  Pictures of my husband and I.  A sticker-picture of my sister and I.  A worn-out Webster’s Notebook Dictionary, something I remember using back in elementary school.

   This backpack was a part of who I was then -- a college student trying to do it all (earn good grades, work, figure out marriage, plan for my career).  

   What I found inside my backpack, my notebook, is still a part of who I am now.  A writer, a wife, a woman who needs occasional reassurances and feel-good messages.

   Some things don’t change.


  1. Honey,
    What a great post! You are an amazing writer. I Love you so much!
    Love, me

  2. You sure went through a lot to earn your degree,and you did a great job.I love you and I am proud of you.

  3. Some things stay with us forever. Your mother & I are very proud of your accomplishments.
    Love, dad