About Me


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Hey there! Welcome to my blog, portfolio, podcast, and whatever else you can find here.

My name is Brooke Kent and I'm a college student at UNCW from Virginia Beach, VA. I am pursing a degree in Business and a career in secondary education. 

I love reading, writing, people, and business.

Here to share my favorite thoughts, opinions, and works.


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Hiding From Adulthood- A Nonfic Essay

   Hiding from Adulthood It seems as if every child’s favorite place is wherever they can find the most comfort. It’s always like a secret hiding place. Wherever a child can find a place that's all their own. To hold all their secrets.  When I was younger, I had two places like this. At my mom’s house, I was a lonely only child. Luckily for me, I had a tight-knit connection with my parents. My mom was, and still is, the most loving woman on the face of the earth, and my stepdad was, as he would say “a kid that never grew up”. So, even though I didn’t have siblings to play with, he was always around to do whatever I was interested in. Our specialty was legos. He built my favorite place with me. In the town house we lived in at the time, there was a cubby beneath the stairs. Together we built a fort of pillows and blankets in that nook. After school, we would watch movies together on our portable DVD player in the fort. My favorites were Barbie Fairytopia and Cheaper by...
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Polish Grandma- A Poem

  Polish Grandma Cabbage and Potatoes. I think of you. Big dinner table, so full  we had to use folding chairs  just to fit everyone.  Pierogies and Sauerkraut. A family dinner.  Pork? Some kind of meat..  “Eat some more! You’re too skinny” “Look at you, do your parents ever feed you?”  I turn red,  “Grandma, don’t embarrass me.”  Newspapers sprawled on the table Judge Judy’s voice booming from the family room  Everyone shouting  Talking over each other  Laughter  The dog barks You slip him a buttery roll  under the table. 
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Twinkle Toes- A Poem

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   Twinkle Toes Grace in me mostly fleeting. Focused on the music, I feel my loud yet gentle heart, beating. Sashay on the stage with butterflies  Still, wide smiles through  Bright red lipstick. Between pirouettes, my  squinting eyes scan the dark auditorium.  I see you beaming with pride. Around the living room  gracelessly you flailed  I looked at you askance.  You called me twinkle toes, I called you dad. With ballet I taught you to fly. . 
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