Caleb D.

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USA250 Journal Project

Personal Chronicle: July 4, 2025 – July 5, 2026
A gift for reflection. A record of now. A story for what’s next.

🖋️ Opening Reflections
To be written in the days or weeks leading up to July 4, 2025.
There is no deadline for knowing yourself. Just begin.

✍️ Caleb Davis – “Who am I?”

I’m Caleb. That’s my name. But sometimes it feels like I’m more like a whisper than a person.

I guess I’m the kid who doesn’t talk much. The one who gets good grades, who listens, who doesn’t cause trouble. But inside, there’s so much happening. Like… oceans. Storms. I just don’t show it.

I love nature. Documentaries, animals, old forests, coral reefs. I wish I could live inside one of those shows—where everything makes sense and has a reason to exist.

I’ve been told that I’m smart, but not in a way that matters at church or in our homeschool group. At least not when I ask about climate science, or evolution, or the melting ice caps.

I carry around a tightness in my chest sometimes. The doctor said it’s anxiety. I thought I was just… broken.

But maybe I’m just someone who feels a lot and doesn’t know where to put it.

✍️ Caleb Davis – “How did I get here?”

I used to think we had the perfect life. Dad worked hard. Mom taught us at home. Sundays were for church and donuts and quiet afternoons. Everything felt right.

Then one day, I watched a documentary about vanishing glaciers. And something in me cracked. I didn’t understand how the world could be changing so fast—and why no one around me seemed to care.

I asked about it during Bible study once. I said something about fossil fuels and CO₂. Dad went quiet. The pastor told me, “God’s got a plan, son.” But it felt like a dismissal, not an answer.

After that, I started watching more science shows late at night. Writing things down. Making lists of questions I don’t ask out loud anymore.

Lilah talks back. She’s brave like that. I stay quiet.

But I notice everything.

I got here by listening too hard, I think. By absorbing the silences in the room. By feeling the cracks under our feet before anyone else did.

And life has taught me this:
Even if no one listens, truth still matters.