SCHOLAR VOICES

Spring 2016

INTRODUCTION Judith Berry Griffin, President, Pathways to College

Welcome to the 2016 issue of Scholar Voices, the literary magazine of Pathways to College. For a second year, in addition to the written word, we have invited our Scholars to submit photographs. We continue to be so very pleased with their creativity. We know that expressing ideas is not always easy – even if the ideas are important and eagerly shared. But we continue to say that self-expression of all kinds is well worth the effort! Writers and artists through the centuries have shared their thoughts and passed their ideas and stories on to people they would never meet but to whom they have given invaluable gifts of knowledge, inspiration, insight and enjoyment. All of these gifts came to life in the same way – with an idea and the urge to keep it alive by sharing it with others. Scholar Voices is our way to share our Scholars’ stories and ideas with many others, both within and beyond the Pathways to College family. And to our Scholars: We hope that you will continue to tell your stories in writing and in art. In whatever form they take, they are more important than you will ever know.

We are your cheerleaders! Keep sharing! “BRANCH OUT!”

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Branch Out Sherell P., Arts High School, Grade 10

Don't just listen Don't just hear Take into consideration The voices of those near Think deep, don't be shallow Be enthusiastic, not just mellow Don't just listen Don't just hear Opportunities at your door, will you be there? Our futures are bright Our futures are clear With a pathway to college, I'll see you there! Don't just listen Don't just hear Expand your networking, be aware!

DEDICATION

The poem “08/02” memorializes a tragedy -- the death

of Daja Brookshire, sister of a Pathways Scholar from Gary, Indiana. Daja was the victim of a drive-by shooting on 08/02/15. We dedicate this issue of Scholar Voices to her memory.

08/02

Jalecia B., Grade 10 Wirt Emerson Visual andPerforming Arts Academy,

Sitting in my bedroom Don’t got a clue Just that quick someone up and shot you Who? Is the question that I ask? Gone in a flash They say it’s a thing of the past Nothing ever lasts Alas! Memories are all I have 08/02 Never in a million years did I think I’d lose you Is it true? Did they really kill you? Have no clue what to do This is all still new 08/02 11:24 Took your last breath Instead of going right things went left Straight to your death Tick tock on the clock Separated so soon Flower that didn’t quite bloom I’m left with a heart so damaged and bruised 08/02 I sure do miss you Our last talk on the phone We stayed up so long Reminiscing Sounding like two old women All the fun we used to have

We would just laugh You were here You were there Now you’re not anywhere I wish I would’ve knew 08/02 The last day you were alive Hoping you would’ve survived I cried For days Mind stuck in a haze Off into a daze I’m still amazed Why? In a blink of an eye Would you die? No last goodbye My heart Torn apart Not knowing where to start 08/02 I love you I do With all my heart Even if we are apart You’re an angel now Looking down Every now and then I feel you around My sister, my sister I finally got the clue It really is true I’ll never forget you 08/02

CONTENTS

WINNER The Wrong Direction - Brooklyn W. 1 Searching - Ashlyn F. 2 The Police Force From Hell - James W. 5 Ten Things I Want To Say To A Muslim Woman - Mahdeem K. 6 Sea - Ebenezer A. 8 Rear View Mirror - Kiara M. 10

HONORABLE MENTION Perspective - Jamela B. 10 This or That? - Andrew G. 11 The Stranger - Osariemen N. 12 The Definition of a Queen - Davinya M. 13 Happy - Alexis D. 14 Choices - Briana L. 14 My Way - Courtney G. 15 Up - Isabel A. 16 City Hall: A Six-Month Opportunity - Ta’Nina G. 16 The Abyss - Benjamin D. 17 Change This World - Kiara M. 18 Beauty - Robert M. 19 To Whom Do I Turn – Tynazsha B. 19 The Specialist - Kayla N. 20 Life - Jamal H. 22 Dark Nightmare to Peaceful Dream - Shane S. 23 What is Struggle? - Andrew G. 24 You - Princess A. 24 The Mighty Tree - Stacy C. 25 The Wanted and the Hated Part One - Angelo G. 26 The Wanted and the Hated Part Two - Angelo G. 28 The Heart - Miyoko M. 29 Dear Mother... - Osariemen N. 29 Six Word Memoir - Zakeema W. 30 A Letter to Her - Asia L. 30 Anxiety - TeErica J. 31 Unique - Princess A. 31 One WIll Die and the Other WIll Kill - Zaakiyah C. 32 The Best Replacement You’ll Ever Find - Jae Lynn G. 34 Who am I? - Aaliyah M. 34 BEYOND THE SKY! - Zakeema W. 35 Zombie Apocalypse - Paulo S. 35 I Need You - Luana M. 36 The Change of Life - Shane W. 36 How Do We Last – Tynazsha B. 37

Six Word Memoir - Erica M. 37 Childish Innocence and Forgotten Responsibilities - Tiana W. 38

The Masquerade - Jordyn C. 39Dear Daddy – Amatha M. 40 Never Empty – Darius J. 40 Suicide… No Thanks!!! - Osariemen N. 41 I AM THEM - Essence B. 41 To Cash - Zaakiyah C. 42 My Life Begins with a Fresh Smile - Marie T. 44 Life - Davinya M. 44 Desperado - Jae Lynn G. 45

The Skeletal System - T’Erica M. 45 Do I Look Black to You? - Isis B. 46 Tight - Julio F. 48 Why - Lamia Y. 48 She - Samantha H. 49 I AM - Miyoko M. 49 Hope - Karla M. 50 Just Stop - Nani-Marie M. 50 Unquenchable Hunger - Amir D. 51 “Grandma” - Taylor W. 51 Monster Inside - Tiana W. 52 Tryna Get Out - Tamara M. 54 Perfection - Dara M. 55 Untitled - Malik T. 56 Untitled - Audrena B. 57 Voices - Kiara M. 57 A Day in the Life of Sky Maxx - Alexes C. 58 Settling - Imari T. 59 Demons - Tamara M. 60 How to Learn - Julio F. 61 It's True Until It Is You - Zaakiyah C. 62 Lifeless - Klaudette S. 63 I Never Told You Because... - Alexis W. 64 What It Means To Succeed - Alberto R. 65 Does Social Media Have a Positive or Negative Impact on Today’s Society? - Tai L. 66 She to I - Diavian M. 67 Without Words - Frances L. 68 Untitled - Audrema B. 68 To Blossom - Chris N. 69 I Want - Rianne H. 70 Untitled - Kiara B. 71 The Violent Use of Guns - Kruti P. 72 Six Word Memoir - Brianna E. 73 Superwoman - Mercedes G. 74 Anarchism - Miana S. 75

New York - Alison L. 76 Hesitation - Dyamond F. 76 My Way - Courtney G. 77 Untitled - Doaa M. 78 Starry Night - Osariemen N. 79 A White Man’s Property (Tribute To: Black History Month) - Zakeema W. 80 Delivernou - Sherell P. 81 Untitled - Kiara B. 81 Is Cancer Infectious? - Thalia G. 82 Father - Karen M. 83 Who Am I? - Maya L. 84 I’m Sorry - Essence B. 85 Safe Haven - Jacqueline F. 86 You cannotcommunicatewithsomeonewho Doesn’t Speak the Same Language - Favour I. 87 Desires of the Heart (Love Poem No. 1) - Ebenezer A. 88 New York - Alison L. 88 The Strange Place - Zhana P. 89 The Train Slaughter - Alexes C. 90 Picture This - Arnetta M. 91

Untitled - Nicole S. 92 Unexpected Passion - Brian P. 92 Untitled - Katie T. 93 Untitled – Anonymous 94 Hispanic Heritage - Rachel L. 95

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Cover Drawing – Beginnings by Stacy C., Wirt Emerson Visual and Performing Arts Academy, Grade 11

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WINNER – PHOTOS OF PEOPLE

The Wrong Direction Brooklyn W., New Tech Innovative Institute, Grade 11

I’m afraid of many things, but most of all, I’m afraid of failure. There’s so much pressure to become successful, I feel like the walls are closing in on me. All I constantly hear is, “Stay in school.” “Make us proud.” “You’ll be the first.” “We’ll have a doctor in the family now.” I feel like I’m losing the game that hasn’t started. I wish I could press reset, and begin anew, but I’ve already started going through life in the wrong direction.

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WINNER – SHORT STORY

Searching Ashlyn F., Wirt-Emerson Visual and

Performing Arts High Ability Academy, Grade 10 "Sarah this whole thing is ridiculous," Charlie yelled at his fiancé. "What's ridiculous is the fact that you really don't care about anything I have to say," Sarah sassed at him. "Well maybe if you think I don't care maybe we should call the wedding off!" he yelled back. Sarah's eyes were filled with tears. The one she loved was trying to kick her out and call off the engagement. "I'm leaving," Sarah said. She grabbed her purse and just left. No car keys, no phone, nothing but her empty purse. "WHERE ARE YOU GOING?" he asked, trying to stop her. "As far away from you as possible," she spat back at him and slammed the door shut. It had been 12 hours and nobody has heard a word. Charlie called Sarah's dad. "Hello?" "Mr. Anderson, I know you are probably going to hate me but Sarah and I got into a huge fight last night and she left. Is there any chance she is over there with you and the Mrs.?" Charlie said rather fast and hopeful. "No Charlie she isn't here. Did you try calling her?” he asked. "She left her phone here sir. I'm worried. Should I call the police?" Charlie asked. "No stuff Sherlock!" Mr. Anderson spat back. The next morning this was in the paper:

Sarah Michelle Anderson has been missing since June 26. She was last seen on the corner of 57th Avenue two blocks away from

her home. She has brown hair and brown eyes.

She is 5'2” and 115 pounds. She was last seen in a pink and white sundress.

If you have any information or have seen Sarah please contact Officer Karson Agnus at (712)-211-5683.

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Charlie hasn't moved a muscle since Sarah left. He won't eat, or sleep. "Charlie. Look you've got to eat something. It's been 3 days," his mom, Shirley, said to him. He didn't move. All he knew was that the girl he loved was missing and that he wanted her back. "How do you think I feel, Mom; it's my fault she left. It's my fault that she is in danger. It's all my fault," Charlie said putting his hands over his eyes. "I'm going out there to find her," he said coming to his senses. "No. Charlie have you lost your mind? You don't know where she is or what's going on. It's too dangerous," his dad, Liam, said to him. Everybody crowded the door trying to stop him. "Get out of the way guys, I need to find her. What if Mom was missing, Dad? Wouldn't you want to go find her?" he said to his father. His father nodded. Charlie then packed a small bag with clothes and shoes and a phone charger. He also grabbed clean clothes for Sarah if he found her. He lifted his head up. "Son." his mom started. "Please be careful and make sure you eat and have plenty of fluids and that you don't get in any trouble. If Officer Agnus calls, we will have him call you," his mom said. Charlie nodded and made his way to his car and looked back at his family one last time. With the approval nod from his parents, he pulled out of the driveway hoping to find Sarah. "Where is Charlie!" Mr. Anderson asked his wife. She shrugged. "Someone said he saw him leaving town with a bag," she said. "Maybe he has her," Mr. Anderson said. His wife looked at him wide eyed hoping what he was saying was not true. "I'm going to look for him. He's dead meat to me. Go get the shotgun out of the den. It's about time I pulled it out," he said grabbing some clothes and running to his car. "CHARLIE! OPEN THIS DOOR NOW!" Mr. Anderson said banging on the door. "I know you are in there." No answer. The house was empty. Not a trace or a note of Charlie was there. Mr. Anderson then knew the perfect way. He was going to call him. *ring ring*, Charlie heard. Was it Sarah's phone? He pulled it out and lo and behold it was her number. But it was a private number calling. "Hello?" Charlie said in confusion. "Yes. I'm looking for Sarah. This is Mrs. Casey calling about her wedding details," said the voice on the other line.

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"She's not available," Charlie answered and hung up. "I knew that little skunk bag has my daughter and I won't stop until I find him," Mr. Anderson said using the tracking device he turned on. He could monitor Charlie at all times. He turned on his GPS and drove in hopes of seeing his daughter again. It's been exactly 14 days since Sarah has been missing, which means it's been 13 days since Charlie went looking for his love. He had stopped in stores, malls, and abandoned homes. But right now, he was stopped in front of an old and abandoned house that one of his friends lived in. He pushed down the door and walked around. What he didn't know was Mr. Anderson was hot on his trail. He kept walking around the house. The kitchen was empty, the bedrooms were all torn apart, and the living room was empty. He walked into the basement and gasped. What he saw was his Sarah hanging from the ceiling fan. She was beat up and bruised. He then heard a voice. "There are cops outside and I'm not going to get caught so see ya." And with that someone darted to the door. Charlie wasn't too far behind the unknown person. To his disbelief there stood police cars and an ambulance outside. He darted east and never looked back no matter how much people called for him to return. The next day this was in the paper:

Wanted Charlie Jackson McDonald

for the murder of Sarah M. Anderson. Please contact Agent K. Davis if you know anything of his location.

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WINNER - POEM

The Police Force From Hell James W., West Side Leadership Academy, Grade 11

Before I begin, this is not for all cops because I can honestly say some of you dudes rock. This is for the policemen who are known for making their guns pop with gun shots for innocent black kids who could've lived longer. Lil' Billy was writing raps and trying to drop some new songs but now he's in the afterlife asking "Man, what have I done wrong?" Cops used to be our neighborhood saviors but now they are catching more bodies than the dope dealers and gang bangers… Used to be our heroes but this corrupt world turned you into monsters that abuse and misuse the badge for power and promotion Your job is to serve and protect, not to destroy and neglect, but your concern is your check, not the lives of the rest. It's a likely chance I could die just because I'm black… But, I want to make it someday so hope and pray that I won’t be another innocent victim to be unjustly attacked and killed by the police force from hell.

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WINNER – ESSAY

Ten Things I Want To Say To A Muslim Woman Mahdeem K., James Hillhouse High School, Grade 10

1. I love it when the sun rises and we’re awake, because that means that I once again can catch a glimpse of your face. I adore the journey I undergo when I stare into the windows of your soul, for your eyes are as deep as the Pacific, and I am constantly swimming in them. 2. I remember the first time I saw those jewels you called eyes. They shone brightly and illuminated the room like chandeliers. My heart went thu-thump-thu-thump; it shot out of my chest and through the sky when you removed your hijab past your ear. You mysterious thief, you stole my heart, yet your smile gives me more riches than Rockefeller. 3. You’re a Shakespeare play, for in a midsummer night’s dream, I dreamt of you. With skin as smooth and soft as Heaven’s clouds, you sang the song of angels, causing God himself to shed a tear. Even when I attempted to shield you from the downpour, you showed no fear, especially when the wolves go awooo when you wander into their domain. They bow to you, Goddess Artemis, the eternal hunter, the one who keeps everyone sane. 4. I wish I could hear your angelic voice; like a Drake song, it was caring, supportive, and passionate. It was so soothing that it could hush the cries of tormented infants. Yet no one could ever truly appreciate your full beauty unless it was behind a closed door. No one could experience your hair flowing like a gentle cool breeze on a warm summer day, only the color hijab you wore. 5. Like a Mother, your methodical messages make men weep. The care you give and affection you show, even on the streets, goes unnoticed. You care not of race, for your cadence shows that you’re constantly caring--catering to every charity case and cherishing the entirety of the human race. You do not discriminate, nor do you like to be discriminated against. You’re just an innocent individual who wants to be treated as a human again. 6. It all went down with 9/11, with the loss of lives and the rise of discrimination. Americans blame all of the Muslims, but I know for a fact that you couldn’t harm a fly, let alone an entire nation. The whole world continues to oppress our kind, but if they saw you once, only once, they will notice the mesmerizing charm you have on people. 7. You remind me of Medusa, for you cover your head as if your hair is full of snakes, and you do not stare directly into the eyes of men for they are fearful that your nature and conviction will turn

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them into stone. Yet I do not care for those traditions that demean you and make you less than what you are. I want you to talk back, I want to look into your dark, exotic eyes. I want to explore the Piedmont you call your body, and let you be yourself. 8. Donald Trump and his Nazi forces wish to destroy us, yet I’d sooner die a thousand deaths than watch your suns set forever. I will take on your burden upon my own shoulders. Sorrow is a sad thing to experience, yet I will accompany you on your endeavor of life so you aren’t so lonely. We will show them who you really are, not the monster they make you out to be. 9. My breathless boasting bares no ill will; my heart burns with the hole you bore with your gaze. You illuminate the darkness inside my heart, but not only me, you saved millions of others through your story. You’re the inspiration for my accomplishments, my aspiration for being human. I will become your anchor if you become my sanctuary. I will always love you until the Death of me. To infinity and beyond, as Buzz Lightyear once told me. I dare anyone to tell me that you’re not human and not free. Never doubt your importance and beauty, for you are a lovely human being that will change the world. 10. Never stop pushing, this world needs you now more than ever.

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WINNER - POEM

Sea Ebenezer A., Wirt Emerson Visual and Performing Arts Academy, Grade 12

O, great and mighty Sea, What secrets and troubles haunt thee? As I lay, peacefully, in my place to go rest, Why must you haunt me with the screams of thy furious tempest? O, great and mighty Sea! Why canst thou leave me be? America As you crash upon the rocks guarding the coasts of America, You shout and scream. Are these the exclamations of those lost to the horrors of slavery? Are these the confessions of tortured men who once hid behind courage and bravery? O, great and might Sea! Leave me be or answer me! Are these the cries of those hanged for their own color? Are these the cries of those who too sang "America"? Are these the cries of dead men who have no more secrets to hold? Are these the cries of horrendous tragedies that must now be told? If you must persist, Then surely I shall insist that you answer me when I ask, O great and mighty Sea, What secrets and troubles haunt thee? Ancient Greece To understand your secrets I must travel to the past, A place and time where and when the foundations of America had not yet been cast. O, great and mighty Sea, What secrets and troubles haunt thee? O, Poseidon, what hatred hast thou against me? Why must your mighty triton cast waves waketh even the dead? Is it Zeus? Hast your brother angered thee? Great Poseidon, doth the powerful thunderbolt of thine own kindred come and torment thee? Doth the scope of thine own kindred haunt you? Doth the crackle of the thunder above anger you? O, how much pain and suffering must I bear before your screams end? O, great Poseidon! Is it Hades? Doth your brother's hellfire find you during vesper-tide? Can it be that even the great Poseidon cannot hide?

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Do the screams of the tortured beneath keep you awake? Doth the anticipation of your father's revenge trouble thee? O, how I beg of you, great and might Sea! Leave me be or answer me! Africa O, Africa! May thy strength and might prove fierce enough to allay these screams. The screams of the Sea still rise, for the horrific symphony of these voices shall not cease to reprise. O, Africa! Does the Sea scream because of thee? Are these the shouts of men, women, and children sold into a slavery they had never known? Are these the terrorizing exclamations of souls that reaped a fate they had not sown? May these be the cries of those lives lost at Sea? May these be the wailings of lives that never received the chance to be? Alas, are these the chants of chief elders killed with their brothers and sisters while locking arms? Are these whispers of bullets piercing their souls as they left their firearms? O, great and mighty Sea What secrets and troubles haunt thee? If you must persist then surely I shall insist that you answer me when I ask O great and mighty Sea What secrets and troubles haunt thee? Heaven O, God! Please hear my prayers! Why must the great and mighty Sea find and torment me? Hast the tranquility of the great and mighty Sea been forsaken? O Lord, ask the Sea, Where is thy peace? 'Twas then that the Lord, Creator of the Sea answered and said unto me, the Sea is calling for its body. 'Tis you that the Sea calls for. O, God! How could I have been so blind? O, Sea! Thine screams are reserved for me! For thine abyss and deep space, Are to be my final resting place.

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WINNER – PHOTOS OF PLACES/OBJECTS

Rear View Mirror Kiara M., Wilbur Cross High School, Grade 11

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HONORABLE MENTION – PHOTOS OF PLACES/OBJECTS

Perspective Jamela B., West Side Leadership Academy, Grade 11

Dear Mirror Beside Me, I looked through you and saw light but everything in your reflection isn't moving. The objects look close but I want to turn my head back, just to see how far we've come. Ignoring your whispers to look back, I saw a brighter and bigger light ahead. White clouds shifted to admire the Sun's beauty and show appreciation for shining in my once sad eyes. Oh misleading mirror, ahead I see my future, a future without you. Behind me are shattered pieces of glass and deception. I'm not closer than I appeared, I'm already here.

Focus and appreciate beauty from different perspectives.

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HONORABLE MENTION - POEM

This or That? Andrew G., West Side Leadership Academy, Grade 10

When you are little You are told lots of stories. People tell you this and that And you believe it all to be true. But… As you get older The truth becomes clearer. This is really that, That happens because of this. You go through life Believing this and that, But you never know what’s really true. And so… As you become an adult, You settle for what you believe, Never knowing who lied to you But at the end of the day The truth is never clear As people lie to you every day Parents, the media, and the government lie And you don’t even realize it But you think what you think And believe it all to be true

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HONORABLE MENTION – SHORT STORY The Stranger

Osariemen N., Arts High School, Grade 10 One day, I sat by the window and started to reminisce about this stranger that I knew very well. He was quiet. No one knew him. He sat in the back of the room, hidden in the shadows. He was quiet, yet I heard him. I heard the scream; the screams from his scars. The scars that took over his arm, leaving bright red marks that’ll never heal. He was quiet, but then he spoke. He said his name... DJ. I got to know him, after months of friendship, and became obsessed with his presence. I needed him around me. I felt incomplete without him. He was quiet, but then he yelled. He insulted me. He hurt me... I sat there, by the window, and saw the scars, but instead of them being on him... they were on me. I had the scars on my arm. I was the one who sat in the back of the room. I was the one no one knew. I ... was the quiet. I sat there, by the window, and saw the boy who stole my flesh, my identity, my confidence, my voice. I saw that boy love another. He looked up and saw me, then quickly turned away as if we were strangers. He’s still quiet, but only towards me. Everyone knows him. He sits up front, shining in the spotlight. His arms, unlike mine, lacked the color red. He wasn’t the same quiet boy I knew. He was a stranger; a stranger that I knew very well.

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HONORABLE MENTION - POEM

The Definition of a Queen Davinya M., New Tech Innovative Institute, Grade 11

I live in a world where, when a black girl looks into the mirror, She sees everything but beauty From the kinks in her hair, to the flaws in her flair Everything that should be, just doesn't seem to be there I live in a world where a black girl in high places is frowned upon But my history takes me to ruling kingdoms and dynasties I think it's about time to put my crown on A queen in my own right, and I'm about to make my debut My hunger for esteem has surpassed these games, and I now volunteer this tribute I live in a world where self-hate has become prominent Had to boost up our egos, so excuse me If we come off as dominant Our self-image has been tainted, Doctored up to be so superficial, but that's the image being painted, Clouding our judgment so we would all want to acquire, Like being the model chick is a need so dire Bargaining up ourselves to please who? I forgot I live in a world where you would choose to be anybody but you But listen, here's my proposition— What if I told you, you were beautiful What if I told you that you're not too skinny And you’re not fat, and you’re hair isn’t nappy And you’re butt isn’t too flat Would you believe me? Do you not know the power you possess? When God made you, man was truly blessed You have been given the most supernatural gift ever seen A portal between the spiritual and natural realm Now, that's the definition of a Queen!

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HONORABLE MENTION – ESSAY

Happy Alexis D., Wilbur Cross High School, Grade 12

In January, when all the children in a county are sleeping in, and their parents have called out from work because the plows cannot drive through the snow, I am awake, watching the snow fall. Snowflakes glitter like little white stars. The sky is its usual wintry white... like a bowl of milk. It collects on my near flat roof outside my bedroom window and sparkles through the day. The cold wraps its spindly fingers around the tree branches, and tiny snowflakes ride on the tail of the wind. As beautiful as this is, the real magic of the snow cannot be seen until the night. I wait up, past everyone's “bedtime,” long past the sunset. Soon, it is 1:30 A.M. Outside, the world's noises have been muffled by the snow. The cars have stopped their zooming, and all the lights in the buildings have turned off. For the first time in a long time, it is silent. This silence is not awkward. It does not need to be interrupted, it is perfect. The sky is pink. Not like the sunset... softer. Throughout the night, the moonlight reflects off of the snow, and the sky stays lit, almost as if the sun had never set. Tonight, no children can fear the shadows in the corner. There is hope for one more sunrise, and for this one moment in time, I am completely happy.

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HONORABLE MENTION – PHOTOS OF PLACES/OBJECTS

Choices Briana L., West Side Leadership Academy, Grade 12

Which path should I choose?

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HONORABLE MENTION - POEM

My Way Courtney G., Wirt Emerson Visual and Performing Arts Academy, Grade 12

I walk through this world with nameless expectations, I go day by day with the question of which direction, It’s hard to tell exactly where I’ll end up or how far I’ll go, It’s a thought that I don’t think I’ll ever truly know, I was born to be wild. To be optimistic, I live by this way of life, Just in case you missed it, People find it hard to believe that a person can achieve prominence without a plan, But at the same time ask yourself what happens to writing in the sand? It goes away after a while because the wind comes and blows it away, Apply that to a person’s life it causes disarray, I prefer to be free like the water but sharp like a sword, It may seem perilous but I promise you it’s not absurd, This way can make miracles and provides monumental solutions, But you can’t achieve if you don’t step outside of welfare and find a resolution, This whole ideology is what I’m premised on, With some assistance throughout life I’ve learned which things are right and wrong, Whether it be something like racism or monetary differences, I still know good and well what a person who has life is, I also want to think higher than the modern-day abolitionist, Because problems come out of nowhere the way this world is and they persist, And I don’t want to be left scratching my head being confused, And I definitely do not want to utter phrases that go overused, Life is more than focusing on smaller things that may seem major, Even if it may sound appealing to a certain group’s favor, What I strive for is peace in majority of what is problematic today, But it’s worth it if I can guarantee that the effects will stay, I want prosperity for everyone that’s known and unknown to me, I’m tired of hearing about death and grimacing things on TV, In the end I’ll have life by the phrase which shall say, Like Frank Sinatra said, “I did it my way.”

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HONORABLE MENTION – PHOTOS OF PEOPLE

Up Isabel A., Wilbur Cross High School, Grade 11

No matter how old you get, you'll always be the little girl who demands me to hold her just so she can be as tall as me.

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HONORABLE MENTION – PHOTOS OF PLACES/OBJECTS

City Hall: A Six-Month Opportunity Ta’Nina G., Wilbur Cross High School, Grade 11

As a teen with ambition,

I was ecstatic when a

family friend offered me

an internship at City Hall.

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HONORABLE MENTION - POEM

The Abyss Benjamin D., New Tech Innovative Institute, Grade 11

As I slip into depression I try to grab onto something to save myself Like a hand of a friend, but I let go Can’t pull them down into the abyss Where only darkness and pain exist So focused on everybody else I can't see I'm destroying myself I can only do so much But it's still not enough When I cry, my tears hit the ground Feeding those who tried to smile and still got shot down I'm a prisoner to thoughts and material things I know what's wrong, to this emptiness I cling Look inside and tell me what you see Bronze or Gold? My heart is glass How many more cracks I can take? Time heals all wounds, but you never forget Memories are what hurt the most

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HONORABLE MENTION - ESSAY

Change This World Kiara M., Wilbur Cross High School, Grade 11

I want to live in a world where air isn't polluted, oceans aren't contaminated, and animals aren't going extinct, where you don't see wrappers and plastic bottles laying in the dead grass or floating on top of our once beautiful waters. I want to live in a world where education isn't shot, where a person's disability or mental illness isn't ridiculed, where our government doesn't build twice as many prisons than schools. I want to live in a world where racism isn't an issue, where it doesn't matter if you're Black, White, Hispanic, or Muslim, where a person can be identified "as a person" and not by the color of their skin, where slavery and segregation never existed, where all people realize that everyone is different but we still bleed the same color. I want to live in a world where good deeds aren't done when there's a profit margin, where money doesn't separate communities and objectify a person's self worth, where every human being can afford food and a home and a bed to sleep in rather than a box that distributes both but with no satisfaction. I want to live in a world where there isn't any violence, where there aren't children who are bullied and pushed into lockers, where no one is a victim of statutory neglect, where there isn't police brutality, where terrorism is extinguished, where a parent hasn't witnessed their child endure their last breath as they die in their trembling arms, where no one is fighting in wars and you're left seen crying and crouching down over a loved one's tombstone. I want to live in a world where a person can be accepted if they're part of the LGBT, where they aren't discriminated against and leaving them with the sensibility of guilt for who they are. I want to live in a world where there isn't fat or skinny shaming, where these adjectives aren't exploited as an insult. I want to live in a world where feminism is persistent, where both men and women can excel to anything, where girls aren't told "you can't do this, you're a girl," where you don't hear men catcalling little girls. I want to live in a world where everyone is equal, safe, and where you're not told how horrible a world we live in, where our issues aren't class lessons and your teacher asks "What kind of world do you want to live in?" you close your eyes, open them slowly and answer with no hesitation, "A good one."

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Beauty Robert M., New Tech Innovative Institute, Grade 11

Some say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder However, I see beauty in the way you smile, The way you laugh, and the way you blush Whenever someone complements your perfection Beauty seems to be the only word that comes across my mind Whenever I get a glance of you Some say that you can find beauty in the deepest and darkest places, And once you find it, you can finally see the light You ARE my light

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To Whom Do I Turn Tynazsha B., East Side High School, Grade: 10

Who do i turn to when everything feels like it’s falling apart?

To whom do I turn when the person I would like to be doesn’t feel smart?

Sometimes I just sit back and wonder what my future holds

and think if I’m going to even make it in this world so cold

I don’t want to become my surroundings

What if i’m not good enough or strong enough to become something better

I look at my mom and know she’s proud but sometimes feel like I’m in a cloud

Who do I turn to when my heart is crying ?

To whom do I turn when I’m done trying?

Who do I turn to when I’m finally happy?

To whom do I turn when i finally found self worth?

TO WHOM DO I TURN?

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The Specialist Kayla N., Wirt Emerson Visual and

Performing Arts Academy, Grade 10 The forest was an eerie quiet, and the only sounds were my footsteps on leaves and nature at its moments. I gripped the shotgun in my hand tighter as I walked down the dirt path, I look around me, focusing on any sudden movements, but the only movements were mine. I took a deep breath. I hate how my uncle decides that this is the perfect moment for me to prove myself that I am a specialist. What happens if I get killed? What would he say then? Probably something smart, analyzing my corpse like he usually does to others. I bet he's drinking tea in his truck, waiting for my return. But if this is a lycanthrope like I believe then I should be good. It's not overly aggressive like a witch or something. I stopped walking, taking a moment to calm myself down. I can do this. I heard something rustle in the trees. I glanced up, circling slowly, making sure that I don't trip over my own feet. The rustling stopped and I heard hooting from an owl. I let out the breath I didn't realize I was holding. I continue to walk down the path, coming into an opening where a small pond sits in the middle of the trees. I stepped on the wooden dock, looking around the waterside. I heard rustling again, and I turned holding the shotgun carefully, aiming like my uncle instructed. The rustling ended, and growling was heard. It was similar to that of a dog, but it was completely menacing. I turned on the flashlight, and I heard barking. I moved to the side by instinct and something scratched against the wood. I ran away from the pathway, forcing my back against a tree; I breathed out. The growling was getting louder, and a large silhouette appeared before me, it was walking about like a dog, circling like a predator does prey. I aimed the gun at the dog, but he leapt forward. I dodged, rolling on the ground, jumping to my feet quickly. I moved my arm out the way, forcing it to my back. I held my hands out seeing the werewolf, leaping at me again. I moved again, but it was quick to recover, attacking me. It bit into my arm, but I felt my leather jacket protecting me from shedding blood. I fell to the ground; I tried pulling its mouth off my arm. I gasped when it yanked its head, almost pulling my arm out of the socket. I lifted my hand, giving a swift punch and kicked it off me. Seeing that it flew back a few feet, I jumped to my feet. I swung the gun around, aiming it quickly and pulled the trigger. I had a hit, but the response of the gun wasn't what I expected. It was blank. "Oh, come on!" I yelled. The werewolf leapt forward once again, but I managed to defend myself, hitting it. It fell over, whimpering as it stood. It

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turned to me and ran off. I let out a breath, taking out a flashlight. I turned it on and followed after the werewolf. I raced after it, finding it disappeared behind some trees. I came to a halt, seeing a cliff side. I caught my breath as I leaned against the stone of the mountain. "Why?" I heard a soft voice. I looked up at the sky, seeing the moon going down. I looked around with the flashlight, seeing a figure resembling a kid. He was shirtless and had a bruise on his side. He held up his hands, shielding his eyes, "Leave me alone," "You're a kid?" "I'm thirteen, thank you," the boy corrected me. I rolled my eyes, "So you're the lycanthrope?" "A what?" "A werewolf," I gave the pop media name. "Are you here to kill me?" Before I could answer, I heard another voice, I automatically knew who it was, my uncle. "She's not here to kill you but subdue you," He looked at me before pushing up his glasses, "I'm surprised you tried to shoot a blank shotgun," "You sent me into the forest with a known werewolf roaming and didn't expect to fire?" I gritted my teeth as I ask the question but knew it wasn’t exactly a question. My uncle didn't provide an answer but walked over to the boy who steps away from him. “What do you two want?” “We want to take you in, not to the police but help you control your abilities. Along with you staying in my mansion, I would like if you allow me to study you,” “Study?” “You’re a lycanthrope, a very rare one as well. If I am able to study you and your abilities, I may be able to create a hypothesis on your species,” “What are you a doctor or something?” the boy asks. “That is what he claims to be,” I said to the boy. The boy tilts his head to the side. “I don’t know if I want to do this,” “Don’t worry, nothing bad will happen to you. My niece can vouch for you,” “What is your name?” “Alastair Elliot Johnson,” My uncle spoke his name with elegance and pride. The boy looks at me, “What is yours?” “Eugene Lincoln,” “Aiden Greene,”

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Life Jamal H., Wirt Emerson Visual and Performing Arts Academy, Grade 10

L I F E. In most cases, people think that life embodies animals and plants and human beings living, but I feel like the word L I F E is an acronym that means “Living in Fierce Environment.” I feel like nowadays in this century we really do live in a fierce environment. To begin with, there was a boy named Jeremy and he was a basketball player on so many scholarship committees. He attended a performing arts school and majored in theater arts. This school was so violent, but he was unaware of this because Monday, August 27th, 2016 was his first day. When Jeremy went to his first class he was so confident that all of his other peers were just like him, but he thought wrong. Now, all the other students in the school came in the class for thirty minutes and left. Jeremy thought there wasn’t any school because his classmates and the teacher had not arrived. So finally when the teacher and the students came, the children just did not care what the teacher said and just played on their phones. Jeremy looked so frustrated at the situation and wished it could be stopped. Oh by the way, Jeremy experienced this torture the whole week. On Monday the students came and bullied him by talking about him and taking his lunch money. On Tuesday the students didn't even come to class and the teacher all of a sudden just started smoking in the class. Wednesday they didn't have school. Thursday the students bullied him again by beating him up for no reason. Finally Friday came and the teacher got so frustrated and left the class for no reason and so did the students too. So Monday was here and he came to school and it happened again. Not only did he get mad; he told the principal. When he walked to the principal’s office, he felt so confident that the principal could resolve the conflict brewing between the students and teacher; instead, the principal told Jeremy, “GET OUT AND LET THEM DO WHAT THEY HAVE TO DO!” Jeremy was so upset that the principal couldn’t ameliorate the problem and unfortunately assumed that L I F E was very frustrating. Not only the situation at school was frustrating but every time he came home from school he had to deal with his mother antagonizing him for no reason because her job was very frustrating for her. He always tried to keep a smile and have fun and tried not to think about it, but for him to come to the school and not really learn anything reminded Jeremy about the verbal and physical abuse at his house. So Jeremy really knows and thinks that L I F E is not all that and a bag of chips. He knows that L I F E is a struggle for him to survive and not really a place for him to thrive. So when he thought that, he just gave up school, gave up on his basketball career, and gave up on his internal life.

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Clearly, some people may think that life embodies animals and plants and human beings living, but I feel like the word L I F E is an acronym meaning “Living in Fierce Environment.” One day you should ask yourself: Is L I F E really all that and a bag of chips? Maybe you should ask a friend or an associate if they are feeling ok or are they dealing with anything. Don't let our people go like this. We should all overcome the negativity and face the enemy of LIFE.

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Dark Nightmare to Peaceful Dream Shane S., Wilbur Cross High School, Grade 10

In the midst of the dark, I was lost in the pitch-black woods. Creepy crawly creatures were lurking around the dark for something to prey on. Terrified of a thunderous earsplitting “BOOM” sound I heard in the dark, I immediately panicked and ran straight down to the nowhere I thought I was headed. I was lost and disoriented. I began screaming like a banshee as I tripped and fell over a broken branch of a tree. I began to pray that nothing attacked me while I attempted to pick myself up. I prayed for a way to get out of those monstrous, satanic woods. Once I began to stand up, a bright light appeared ahead of me. As I began to walk towards it, I suddenly dropped like a rollercoaster from nothing but the fading of the light. I became quickly overwhelmed again and began to scream. Suddenly, I heard a high-pitched squealing and then someone utter, “Wake up, stop screaming!” Wherever I was falling suddenly became dark and void of all life. I felt as though my heart dropped and stopped. Another white light appeared. This time a shadowy figure appeared and said, “Welcome!” The voice was deep, strong, and beautifully powerful and relieving. It felt as though everything became clear. Everything around me stopped, and it was all clear. I saw my wife and my two children beside me as we quickly grasped each other’s hands. We were all apparently instilled with fear, with tears in our eyes. We all turned when the voice began to speak to my wife and me. The shadowy figure attempted to explain that we had just been robbed and killed, but it was now our time. We now no longer live in our intolerable nightmare, which was nothing but a dream.

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What is Struggle? Andrew G., West Side Leadership Academy, Grade 10

Struggle… A word that is used to often by teens; They call it a struggle When they have trouble. They call it a struggle When things get too tough. Teens don’t experience a struggle, But say that they do A struggle leaves you homeless. A struggle leaves you hungry, Leaving you to search for your own food. A struggle causes pain, not just physically, But emotionally and spiritually too. Teens don’t truly experience struggle But say that they do Learning and trying to understand new concepts isn’t pain. You haven’t felt true pain Because you never had to really struggle in life. Now true pain… That’s what struggle really is…

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You Princess A., Arts High School, Grade 10

Dear You, Why are you so hypocritical? You tell me it's okay to wear what I want Do what I want Say what I want. Yet, Whenever I put on my attire You say, “Why do you dress like that?” Whenever I am myself You say, “Why do you act like that?” Whenever I say what I think You say, “You’re so weird why do you talk like that?” Dear You, Please stop being hypocritical I try but I can never figure you out.

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The Mighty Tree Stacy C., Wirt Emerson Visual and

Performing Arts Academy, Grade 11

Behold! The mighty tree!

It feels no pain and therefore knows no suffering. It knows not the struggles of living, as all its needs are brought to it,

captured within its leaves and siphoned within its roots. It need not know of the wars waged about its world,

as there are no true battles to be won, even through barren sands and frigid nights,

when one needs little effort to fight. The tree conquers all.

But with one’s own power

and resolve, they need not envy the tree.

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The Wanted and the Hated Part One Angelo G., West Side Leadership Academy, Grade 10

The period was during the most horrific battle on earth, World War II. It was the time where war was everywhere, especially in the country of Europe. The war even brought in countries that wanted to stay neutral yet joined in because of propaganda and fear. This takes place during the most awful and death-bearing genocide ever: the Holocaust. Let’s begin with our American prisoner, Alexander Smith, who broke out of a German jail during his sentence for two counts of murder. In a distant field outside of Erstvollzug, Alexander was digging ground and the timing was good because the soil was soft from the rain. As he rose from the ground he made a big gasp for air and said, “Oh man, the next time I escape from jail, I’m doing it when I have air to breathe because that was awful.” He looked around his surroundings and said, “Oh my Gosh, you got to be kidding me. I know war broke out but come on! This is a nightmare come true!” I better find somewhere to hide from both the police and Nazi troops.” Alexander ran for thirty whole minutes and found a hiding spot in an old abandoned building where he hid for three days. During his three days of hiding, a man named Nigel Gilligan and his wife were running from the Green Police because they were Jewish. Nigel’s wife tripped and twisted her ankle and the Green Policemen were very near. “Hurry Jillian, take my hand and I shall take you to a safe place.” Jillian responded to Nigel with tears in her eyes, “No my darling. It’s too late. Save yourself!” Nigel refused, “I will not leave you, if you get caught, I shall get caught also.” “It’s alright, you will see me again in the next life where we will be happy forever. Now hurry they’re almost here!” Nigel fled the scene with pain in his heart and sorrow in his soul not looking back at the Green Police beating his wife until she was knocked out. Nigel ran and hid in many places until three days later, he came across the building where Alexander Smith was currently hiding. Nigel climbed to the rooftop and when he reached the top, he fell through the roof surprising Alexander. When Nigel arose from the rubble, he saw Alexander pointing a Karabiner 98k at him. Nigel shouted, “Wait, don’t shoot! I’m not an enemy!” Alexander responded, “No way man. How can I be sure that you won’t rat me out to the police?”

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“I won’t I’m running from the Green Police myself.” “All right, but if you try anything funny, I’ll shoot you where you stand.” Nigel calmed down and asked, “How come you’re hiding from the authorities?” Alexander responded, “Well I was charged with two counts of murder and was thrown in prison. What about you?” “I’m charged with being Jewish. By the way my name is Nigel Gilligan.” “Alexander Smith is mine, but you can call me Alex.” After a day of getting to know each other Nigel asked, “Alex what are we going to do? We’re both wanted and we are stuck in enemy territory.” “Nigel… I’ll tell you what we’re going to do. We’re leaving Germany tonight.” “Great! But for best measure we should travel only by night so we won’t be seen as much.” “Good point!” Alexander and Nigel set off to leave from Germany, but would it be simple as it sounds? Find out what happens in The Wanted and The Hated Part Two.

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The Wanted and the Hated Part Two Angelo G., West Side Leadership Academy, Grade 10

Twenty days had flown by. Having an agreement set in place, all that was left was to plan their journey. “Okay Alex everything’s packed and I’m ready to leave. I do have one question though.” Alexander looked at him showing little curiosity, “Alright, what is it?” “Where are we going?” “We’re sneaking back to my home country, the United States.” “Okay I managed to map out our quickest route and keep in mind we need to travel only by night so we won’t get caught.” Two hours passed as they planned their travel through Germany, some of Berlin, and into France. “Alright Nigel, let’s get going.” Throughout the night they traveled through the rubble of damaged buildings and avoided any troopers until around 2:46 a.m., when they were spotted by five Green Policemen. The Green Police opened fire and the duo took cover and fired back. At the end of the little battle Nigel killed two policemen and Alexander killed the other three. Alexander looked at Nigel. “Come on let’s keep going because I’m pretty positive that more will be coming soon.” Nigel responded in a panic. “Alex, look! It’s a wanted poster of you.” “Oh no, they must’ve noticed I broke out of prison, so now we can’t be seen or they’ll turn me in and kill you for being Jewish. “Well then let’s go!” Ten days passed and they finally reached the border of Germany into Berlin. After five days in Berlin, they arrived to France. The sky was occupied by fighter planes on both sides so they had to travel to the U.S. by boat. Fifty-six days had gone by and they finally reached the United States of America. The two thought they were home free. Suddenly, a small German patrol boat appeared and a German soldier shot Alexander in the chest. Barley breathing, Nigel fended off the Nazis and managed to sink their ship. Heartbroken, Nigel ran to Alexander and cried, grieving over the loss of his friend. Nigel Gilligan entered the U.S. alone, vowing to always honor the death of his friend, Alexander Smith.

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The Heart Miyoko M., Westside Leadership Academy, Grade 11

What exactly is the Heart? The heart can be defined as many things but naturally it is defined as the main organ. An organ that can pump blood and emotions which flow to the brain. The heart is muscle, sturdy, and strong however it can easily be broken by deception and heartbreak. The heart is also very sensitive like a newborn baby. When you’re furious, your blood begins to boil and your heart beats rapidly. When you’re sad or depressed your heart clenches with excruciating pain. When you are completely shattered, your heart seems destroyed beyond repair. The heart is like glass; beautiful to look at easily broken. So take my advice and don’t let ANYONE play with your HEART

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Dear Mother... Osariemen N., Arts High School, Grade 10

What makes you hate Your own daughter so much Aren’t sixteen cuts On my arm just enough Or should I aim for my throat To make you more happy Or give you the knife So that you can stab me I’m sick of your temper And your threats are so empty ‘Cause you know what I’ll do to you If you ever TRY to hurt me Two of us can’t live Together in H.y So either I kill you Or I’ll just kill me

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Six Word Memoir Zakeema W., East Side High School, Grade 10

Believing in something; achieving that something.

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A Letter to Her Asia L., Wirt-Emerson Visual and

Performing Arts High Ability Academy, Grade 12 I would have listened From all the problems in your life To all the things that were said I would have cared About all the things that were said And all the things that you felt I would have tried To ease all the pain And make you feel wanted I would have been there for you When you felt all was lost And you were giving up I would have cried But I didn’t know you Because you never came To talk, to confess, to give me any chance to try But I would have listened.

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Anxiety TeErica J., West Side Leadership Academy, Grade 11

Heavy Breathing Loss of Breath My heart is beating slowly but My thoughts are coming fast Feeling weak Can barely speak Tears are flowing Muscles are tightening Demons are controlling My soul is fighting Feeling of caring so much Feeling of needing, needing one touch The feeling of grieving So much hurt so much pain Love and Hate are wrapped around me But no strength to break the chains I’m screaming “SOMEBODY HELP ME PLEASE!” But my screams are silent and cold like death I really hate how this thing is controlling me This is what it feels like to have ANXIETY! Please Help!

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Unique Princess A., Arts High School, Grade 10

One time I looked into the mirror A pretty girl stared back at me and I smiled. I headed into the streets and I see a prettier girl my smile dimmed a little. I arrive at school and the halls were crawling with beautiful girls my smile became a frown Another time I painted the sky I captured every curve and shape of clouds I looked at my work and smiled. I headed out into the streets and I see the pretty girl. I keep the smile on my face because I know she can’t draw not like me. I arrived at the school and the halls continued to crawl with pretty girls my smile does not become a frown. instead I complimented them and did not feel jealous I know I am unique not because I am pretty but because I have other things to offer.

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One WIll Die and the Other WIll Kill Zaakiyah C., Arts High School, Grade 12

Suie was a high school girl whose mother worked in the office building she was in the elevator for. For as long as she could remember, Suie wanted to die. Her biggest problem was getting the nerve to pull it off. However, after a heated argument with her mother on the top floor of the Teddy Corporation, she was planning to finally go to Riverstreak Park and shoot her brains out with her mom’s registered gun. Merdor was an escaped convict whose ex-boyfriend worked as a right hand man for Suie’s mother. In the past, she lived the American Dream with her husband in a kind neighborhood. In her spare time, she killed countless lives and buried the bodies in her backyard. Once her boyfriend found out about her hobby, instead of supporting her, he immediately called the police. After she escaped from a life sentence in prison, she was planning to go to the top floor and mercilessly kill her ex-boyfriend. In elevator number 4, floor 13, Suie was on her way to the lobby floor when Merdor went into the elevator with her. Even though Merdor was on her way up, she pressed both buttons to get the next available elevator since it didn’t make sense to wait for one that was only going up. While both girls stood side by side, they glanced at each other’s attire. Merdor judged Suie for her all black and emo shtick while Suie judged Merdor for her perfectly ironed business dress and tightly pinned bun. They listened to the light and comforting music while trying to focus on their future goals and keeping the silence between them. However, the light and comforting music projected in morse code and dubstep before it stopped all together, the lights flickered, and the ladies found themselves resisting staying in place instead of moving down. Once they regained their balance, they looked at the numbers on the top of the elevator door and let a full 6 seconds go by before accepting that 10 was not going to go on to 9. Suie cursed. Merdor slapped her hand on her face. All they could do was press the emergency red button, tell the person in the intercom their situation, and wait. They sat on either side of the elevator and waited for anyone to come help them. While Suie was fine with the silence between them, Merdor was a proud extrovert who wanted to show it in any way she could. They exchanged names and ages, then day to day jobs (of course one had to lie). Chit chat turned into a conversation and conversation turned into deep conversation. Soon they were sitting side by side in the elevator and telling each other their life stories and interests without a judgment in the world.

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After an uncontrollable laugh during a funny conversation, a gun hopped out of Suie’s open book bag and clunked on the floor. The once cheery atmosphere turned eerie in the silence. To break it, Suie finally confessed that she was planning to kill herself once she left the building and found some place remote. Instead of nagging about the importance of life like Suie expected her to, Merdor laughed. She confessed to her that once she reached the top floor she was going to kill her ex-boyfriend as a revenge mission for telling the police about all the people she killed, saying how ironic this pair was. Instead of slowly but obviously moving to the other side of the elevator like Merdor was expecting her to, Suie handed her the gun, pointing the barrel at herself. “I’m too scared.” “Are you stupid? What do you think they’re going to do when they find a dead body on the floor while I’m alive?” “I’ll keep my fingers on the trigger while you pull. The evidence will be on me.” She shook the gun in her face. “Come on, get it out of your system.” Merdor placed her hand over her friend’s, then her index finger over her friend’s trigger finger. She always loved guns back in the day. The loud explosion and the splattering of blood was a very intriguing experience she worked hard to get when she could. Never had she ever shivered and hesitated when the opportunity came to her. Never had the eyes of her victims depressed her so much. Never had she thought of what the future would be like without her victims on this earth. A combination of all those factors made her pull the gun to the floor and whisper, “I can’t do it,” in disbelief. “Why not?” asked the other. “I’m ready.” Merdor questioned this while looking at the gun in her hand and thinking over all the people she had killed in a past life. All thanks to Suie, her new and true friend, she was finally able to put herself in the perspective of the loved ones of the people she killed. “Because I’d miss you.” When those words were finally said to her, Suie realized the reason she stayed on this earth for as long as she did and why she always thought of her mother before she didn’t pull the trigger. “I’d miss you too.” Soon after, Suie and Merdor were freed from the elevator’s captivities. After a nice hug, both ladies parted ways with a change of plans to their next move. Suie went home and put her mother’s gun back in the dresser where it belonged. Merdor met her ex-boyfriend at the top floor where Suie’s mother was and he once again told on her to police. Merdor happily let it happen. After Merdor was sent to jail, she used her only phone call to call her new friend and tell her which jail she was in.

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The Best Replacement You’ll Ever Find Jae Lynn G., Arts High School, Grade 11

I was dating someone for the first time in my short-lived life. It was like every adolescent romance movie I was ever forced to see: dramatic and frightening. But I was completely enamored. As I look through the dust colored journal sitting on my desk, every sentence on every page jumps out. The words parade through the textured sheets of paper, and I’m left reminiscing. Currently, I’m staring at a journal entry written on July 22, 2015, at 3:13 a.m. “Jealousy is so overpowering,” I wrote. “To know that you’ve had sex isn’t what makes my eyes burn. Sex is simple; empty even. But to know you’ve made love, tugs at the thoughts in my mind. To know you have craved the taste of her skin, to know you looked at her face and saw beauty greater than the sun, to know that she was your familiarity scares me because you two together were probably something gorgeous. You’re the galaxy’s edge, she was the absence of gravity; making everything free from restraint, and I’m a cosmic storm craving the destruction of the things that hold you back the most. My fear is that she was everything you wanted and I was the best replacement you could find.”

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Who am I? Aaliyah M., West Side Leadership Academy, Grade 10

I live in your house, And I eat your food. I sleep in your bed, And I wear your clothes. I talk with your friends. I even talk to you when you’re alone. I know all of your secrets, insecurities, and flaws. I can hear your thoughts. I feel your feelings… I feel your pain. Still don’t know who I am? That is because you don’t know who you are. If you took the time to get to know yourself, You would know exactly who I am. I am YOU

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BEYOND THE SKY! Zakeema W., East Side High School, Grade 10

Dance, sing, holler and scream, Make something happen, follow that dream! You’ll hear the little girl cry, the baby boy sigh, but when you go to sleep at night, dream beyond the sky! Believe in your dream! Let the nightmares pass by because when you wake up they’ll say bye bye! They say dreams come true but do they really do? I believe so but only if you want them too. So tell the nightmares “Go Bye Bye” those are the dreams that will keep from showing inside.

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Zombie Apocalypse Paulo S., Arts High School, Grade 12

If there was a zombie apocalypse taking place in school, there would be a lot of planning and action for me to go through. First, I have to look for a place where I would be safe from the zombies. My choice of a hiding place for survival would be a room which doesn’t have many doors or many windows to see through. In a room like this, it is unlikely that I would get caught on the spot. For survival, I would bring a gun in order to shoot the zombies for protection. If a zombie is coming, I would have to shoot at the zombies. Because zombies like to eat human brains, it is a smart idea to bring a helmet, or something to protect your head. It is also useful when you are running away fast. I would also bring some light snacks because it is unknown for how long a zombie apocalypse would last and there is no way you can run fast enough if you haven’t eaten in many days. It is also necessary to bring an extra set of clothes. After a long time, it is likely that you would smell bad, and it will also attract the zombies. Finally, I would also bring something to keep me awake and alert at all times, most likely any drink which has caffeine in it. If I follow this entire plan, and have all of these essentials, I will survive a zombie apocalypse when it happens.

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I Need You Luana M., East Side High School, Grade 10

There’s times that I needed you But I never say anything with fear of disappointing you I really want you beside me But sometimes you distract yourself and you can't see I honestly don't know how I can open your eyes So I guess I'll just live my life telling myself lies Like, that you really care for me And that I really mean something to you And that you actually love me

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The Change of Life Shane W., Wirt Emerson Visual and

Performing Arts Academy, Grade 9

This man has made a huge change in his years, changes that his peers and friends can’t understand. I’ll tell you the story of this man named Shane. Shane W. his mother named him. Growing up was tough. He was known as the ‘’do too much kid’’. A kid who was the craziest guy in elementary. He was also known as ‘’the goof ball.” He made poor grades all the way up to 3rd grade and average grades all the way up to 6th grade. But something changed his life. This young man known as the troublemaker was no more. Once Shane entered the 7thgrade, the friends he once knew were not his friends. He was toodifferent, tooodd, tooquiet, to fit. He found new cronies, more to his style of walk. At this time Shane was more responsible, kinder, smarter, and more handsome. Basically he became a leader. His reputation grew into the ‘’advice giver.” Even the teachers loved him. The teachers would say stuff like, “Why can’t y’all be more like Shane.” With a leadership mind he needed a leadership activity. So what filled that hole? Drum line of course!!! He became the band section leader in no time. And, his talent bought him a ticket into Wirt Emerson, one of the best schools in Gary. So high school came and nothing changed. The same old Shane. Except that he was now known as the ‘’old man;’’ and still to this day he’s the same old Shane. So what happened to this young man? Gaining more knowledge is what changed this man. Knowledge of how the world actually works. How cold and cruel it can be; how nice and pretty it is; and how people’s minds work. Basically, life is what happened.

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How Do We Last?

Tynazsha B., East Side High School, Grade 10

We hide behind these masks

But the question that needs to be asked is how do we last?

Someone wise once said if we can't tell the truth to our friends then how can we be real?

You will never be free until you stop hiding. All that hiding is blinding. Come out of that shell and tell Why is it that we do the same thing to others that was done unto us? Why is it that we can't take off these masks and be who we really are?

Is it because society is conditioning us to be their right way?

Or is their right way the wrong way and our wrong way the right way? Does it even matter?

We hide behind these masks

But the question that needs to be asked is how do we last? You will never be free until you stop hiding. All that hiding is blinding. Looks can be deceiving

Just like dreaming is believing

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger

Well let me tell you that whatever is behind that mask it’s okay! You’re not alone but take the mask off and FINALLY BE FREE

We hide behind these masks

But the question that needs to be asked is how do we last? You will never be free until you stop hiding. All that hiding is blinding. So let's start shining.

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Six Word Memoir Erica M., East Side High School, Grade 10

Elements of FREEDOM are within you.

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Childish Innocence and Forgotten Responsibilities Tiana W., Arts High School, Grade 12

Let mommy hold your hand And kiss away the boo boos Let daddy hold the flame And lead you to the new you We tell our children that “The sky's the limit” Then put chains on their ankles to keep them on the ground Tell them “The future is yours” But lock them in the shadows of our past They can’t seize the day If our demons are standing in their way Sleep tight Don’t worry The bed bugs don’t bite But that monster is real And he watches while you sleep at night Let mommy sacrifice her life To keep you both alive Let daddy hold the candle An empty corner vigil where the sun and moon collide The same ones that are supposed to protect us Are the ones we must fear the most The best friends we relied on Are the first to become ghosts We’ve grown accustomed to the let-downs The broken promises And partial truths It’s what we've come to expect Nothing more, nothing less You didn’t need to lie You didn’t have to cry All the sleepless nights They didn’t have to happen Mommy’s still there And Daddy still cares

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I get why you did it, Why we do what we do I get why you said it, Why we say what we say I get it now The truth’s come out Reality is way scarier than any monster we could imagine The real demons are way scarier than anything we could ever fathom Let mommy take the blindfold That shielded you from harshness Let daddy put out the fire That kept you from the darkness

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The Masquerade Jordyn C., New Tech Innovative Institute, Grade 10

One mother, one father, two daughters and one son. Divided with secrets, hostility and more problems than one. Lives, lies, and more pain than you know Walk past the masquerading family, look into their masks and the tears will begin to show. Have you heard the silent cry of the dove when it’s caged? Have you seen the pale father’s hand fly higher and hit harder, the more he is enraged? Look into mama’s eyes and know she likes the high, numbing pain. A neglected brother can see his sister’s pain, and not take his own in vain. Sister knows more than what she thought. She ended a stream of confused tears, the day her mommy and daddy fought. From the hidden drinking and undeniable drug use, spawned the physical, mental, and undeniable—Abuse. Pale stranger, masquerading as father. When she needs him he’s not there— No time to even bother. She walks with her companions…despair and sorrow, not loving today, but dreading tomorrow. Where is the end to her misery and darkness—so sad. The phone rings softly…it’s her Real Dad.

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Dear Daddy Amatha M., New Tech Innovative Institute, Grade 11

Dear Daddy, Sometimes I look into the mirror and wonder, What is the color of your eyes, Are they dark and round, Small and triangular, similar to mine? I wonder, Do you like sour cream as much as me, My mom always says I resemble you, How would I know, because we’ve never met. Daddy, Did you ever look for me? Did you even care? Or, did you just forget? I used to blame and doubt myself, because you were not there. As I have grown older, I understand that it is your loss, You missed out on a great upbringing. Don’t come back 10 years from now, Apologizing for having not been there for me. But thanks Dad, somehow your absence in my life, Made me the woman I am today.

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Never Empty Darius J., Wirt Emerson, Grade 12

Life of wonders. The kind that carries you away to new worlds when you sleep. The kind that fills you with joy when you want to weep. Life is breath, The substance that make us complete. ‘Tis the stream that runs farther and wider than any can imagine. Never Empty! Always full of life’s experiences, The storm awaits my arrival. I refuse room for my self-resentment. I will live this life without regrets, For another day is not guaranteed. I will capture THIS moment. I will live life to the fullest and never be empty.

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Suicide… No Thanks!!! Osariemen N., Arts High School, Grade 10

I want, I need I’ve laughed, I’ve cried But I’m not too crazy To commit suicide It’s not my only choice So, stop saying that it is I could always fight back And let your face meet my fist

I can’t take pain I ride my tears on a boat So, what makes you think That I’d rather cut my throat I have friends who need me To stay by their side So, I’ll say No Thanks To Committing Suicide

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I AM THEM Essence B., Wirt Emerson Visual and Performing Arts Academy, Grade 11

I am the victims that lost their lives to violence I am the one that took a stand because I didn’t want to be another statistic and watch I am the sibling that cries day in and day out hoping, praying to see their face one more time I am them !! I am the mother that had to bury her child I am the one that turns the news on and looks in the newspaper and see violence I am the one that steps out their front door and hears gun shots I am them !! I am the one that prays to see my family another day I am the one that walks and sees gang bangers on my block I am the one in the ER fighting for my life I am them !! I am the friend that wanted to speak out I am the one that goes to school and acts like everything's okay I am the one that's a problem because I want to be a solution I am the one that will join S.A.V.E and take a stand I AM THEM !!

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To Cash Zaakiyah C., Arts High School, Grade 12

I work as a cashier in a convenience store by Booke and Silver Ave. We sell a lot of conveniently placed things. It isn’t a big store, but more than ten people can be in there at the same time. I see all types of people come and go: old, young, in pairs, triplets, shoplifters, comic book geeks, children, all the like. Most times, I never see them again. But there was this one guy that was a real hipster. He came here almost every day with his red and curly afro, staring at the cards section for eons. His hands jittered more the closer it got to one of those cards. Once he’s at his peak, he spun on his heels and walked out the door to come back another time. He did this every day after 3, when we first open. One winter morning, my kind nature was sick and tired of seeing this poor sap all day not knowing which to pick, so I decided to give him some help. I left my post at the cash register and went between the panty box, the old CD box, and down the aisle of lamp shades before I met him with his back turned. “Having trouble?” He jumped and grabbed his chest, skipping to the side and tripping while looking at me like I was a monster with rabies. Holding my hands up, I asked him to calm down. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” His arms and legs trembled, and his heavy breathing ceased, but he nodded. I offered him help getting up on his feet, but he declined, doing it himself. Like nothing had happened, he went back to card searching. "You come here every day," I said while looking at the cards with him. For some reason, he was trembling worse than a naked man in the winter and sweating like he just got out of the shower. What an introvert, I thought at first. But then I realized that the card he was picking out was in the Valentine's Day section. I’d be embarrassed too if I was caught trying a to pick out a love card before the occasion came. "You know, it's not a big deal which card you use, right? If the message got through, you’re fine." He ignored me, which was actually him staring blankly at the cards in cold blooded disgust. I decided to help the poor guy, so I gave him my favorite card. It was a green one, with a text reading “You know what I love eating more than hot dogs?” Inside is someone eating a banana float very seductively while the song, “Lollipop,” played and animated her licking the spoon. It read, “A nice sundae, whip crème from your banana split and my cherry on top.” I snatched it out the rack and examined it, “If you’re up for suggestions.” I doubt he could care any less, but I continued. “This card’s so dirty and I love it. Here look--” But before I could open it, he snatched the card out of my hand and sped to my station. Along the way, he grabbed a case of pens

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and an envelope in one motion. The items slammed on the surface of the cashier desk. I rushed over and bashed my fingers on the register. “$3.” He gave me the money before I finished telling him. I took the three dollars from him and slid them inside the cash register while smiling. I didn’t know the name of that kid, but I was proud of him. He grew from a picky card chooser to being okay with getting the job done. Warms me heart. “Want a bag?” As I looked up from the register, I saw the bag of pens pried apart and him scribbling inside the musical card already. After that, he popped it in an envelope and licked the glue wet before closing. With a pen, he wrote, From Modesto to Cash, threw the envelope at me, and left. I watched him almost get hit by a car through the large windows by the front door. I looked at the card with arched brows. Was I supposed to give this card to a girl named Cash? Thinking that, I heard a girl inspecting the socks section cooing, “Aww!” I blinked when I looked up at her. “What?” “That is the cutest pick up line I’ve ever seen in my life!” Her fists, which had a ball of blue socks in them, held her heart. She nearly fell over as she walked over to me to see the envelope. “Can I see?” “What? Pick up line?” I flipped the card front to back looking for said pick up line. “He bought a card in the store you work in. That’s adorbs!” Holding up the card to her, I showed her that it was to someone named Cash. “Cash, like cashier. It’s for you!” My eyes opened wide at the sight of this unbelievable physical object. Someone gave me a card. I would never think those words would be placed together in a same sentence in my lifetime. The girl chuckled at my face. “Don’t just stand there, red lobster. What does it say?” My shaky hands ripped open the envelope and pulled out the card inside. Ignoring the dirty joke, I read the note within. Will you go out with me? the card read in rushed but legible handwriting. The girl nearly jumped out of her shoes as she squealed with joy while I was paralyzed. “Why aren’t you wearing your name tag?” I thought of the attachable card in my pocket withTYLER written in big, thick letters and shrugged. Honestly, I never thought I needed it; no one needed to know what my name was until now. As I wait for 3 o’clock in the afternoon, I fixed my name tag on my apron and wait for his arrival.

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My Life Begins with a Fresh Smile Marie T., Wilbur Cross High School, Grade 11

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Life Davinya M., New Tech Innovative Institute, Grade 11

Many people take small things for granted — like the air we breathe, the sun in the sky, and the water we drink. These things are always there, in abundance, and we never have to ask for them. But what happens when governments, municipalities, and everyday people don’t protect or respect what is freely given? Water Crises and Endangered Species? Dominion over the fish and every creature therein requires great responsibility and I’m ready for the challenge. Saving the earth won’t be easy, but to the weak, the small, the marginalized, and the voiceless, it matters the most.

Smile: it is the key that fits into the lock of everyone. A smile is truly the only thing that can be understood.

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Desperado Jae Lynn G., Arts High School, Grade 11

This means nothing. Nothing but the absence of affection being replaced, the desperation for a thrill feeds the savages that are inside us both. We don’t have to tame them for anybody, We can be lone wolves together. Together for the sole purpose of craving each other’s skin We’ve both been jaded and we both want to leave so find your peace set that wild beast free and come run away from any site of love with me.

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The Skeletal System T’Erica M., Wilbur Cross High School, Grade 11

In the midst of a warm night, a crowd chanted with rage and disappointment, "Booo!" My bones began to tremble. I was very nervous. I am a football athlete who is 5’9” and zero pounds, and I enjoy a good laugh. My name is Humerus. I could be a track athlete because I have strong leg power with femur bones that are stronger than concrete. I am also light on my feet. So, speed wasn't a big deal for me. However, I stood there in the middle of the field waiting for the signal to receive the football. Soon after I heard the shout of my teammate, I ran towards the end bone. Suddenly, I was tackled by someone’s clavicle bone. As they wrapped their boney arms around me, I fell hard onto the ground. That was when my coach lost his skull and called me out. "HUMERUS!" I slowly walked towards my coach. "I have a bone to pick with you," Coach Bones said. “What's going on, Humerus? You don't seem to be cooperating too well tonight." I don't think I'm ready to play Football. My heart isn't in it," I replied. Couch Bones looked at me and said, "I know you're lying because I could see right through you. I know you could score points for the team. I believe in you." I began to smile then laugh as he bumped into my funny bone. I ran back onto the field where my teammates and I ended the night with a successful football game.

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Do I Look Black to You? Isis B., Wirt Emerson Visual and

Performing Arts Academy, Grade 10 Do I look black to you? Seen as a sophomore, Or as my teacher would call it, a wise fool. Dangerous and cruel, Trying to reach the next man’s level… But for some reason he keeps moving my step stool. Hear me out! This man I speak of is bold, Heart is cold And would sell his soul, The white man. Don’t judge just yet, The white man could have heart in the inside. But ‘cause of his race he puts his pride aside And lets the racism ride. A young black female… Her waves and hips, Fully featured lips, Eye opener to the next miss, Or mister that may be. Do I look black to you? Hear me as ghetto when I speak As clearly as the other kind, Don’t believe my talents and skills combined, As martin would say “all men” *cough cough* including women Will be treated equal You ask me I say were the ones left behind Do I look black to you? I represent in a suit and the perfect shoe Happiness in my smile because I broke through … Broke through the next white man This tried to ruin me and my crew plan. Plan to take over the world And with no doubt succeed, With the strength of the colored person we don’t need any help *ha ha* no sir, no need.

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Do I look black to you? A young black male, Black as another may call crayon Negros. The black not a vow to be free in a free land, Forced to reach forward a hand to be cuffed when approached by a white man. Do I look black to you? Little do you realize this is real? The hate I feel To only see sunshine when I walk down that prison hill. Do I look black to you? Visualized as drug addict and weak, Living on the side of a creek, A threat to others because I’m accused of holding a piece of heat. Do I look black to you? Black as the next white man’s wallet. The wallet I was incriminated by if I can recall it… Losing self-esteem because of the average society hypocrite. Yea I must look black to you. Because I’m black *cough cough* brown Doesn’t mean others are not amused. I may drink booze And have a closet full of 100 dollar trues But I will never lose. Although I look black to you Just remember I am crown headed, Seeking the sorrow in your face when you’re dreaded Thought I couldn’t make it right? So wrong headed I will be the greatest, No matter if the words of the next racist Next racist hurts because I will not be stressed. My hair will not be the greyest Because you are a graceless racist. “My kind “ As you would say Will continue to slay with our famous faces.

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Tight Julio F., Arts High School, Grade 11

How do you breathe with rope around your lungs, How do you love with a knot in your heart. Climbing a ladder with no rungs, And you just can’t stop. Your voice might crack, And you might be sad, One day though the twine will snap, You might end up happy, Or you might fall flat, But that's that.

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Why

Lamia Y., West Side Leadership Academy, Grade 11 You ask how I feel. I sit and think about what just happened… Thinking about a series of why’s. Why me? Why her? Why now? Looking at you, I blank out while wondering why. You’re asking how I feel and what all I’m thinking about is why. I quietly whisper “Why?” Silence. The longer the silence, the more anger I feel building up inside until I scream out “WHY?!!!” Why did you make me feel this way? Why after all this time of trying to love you, do you hurt me in return. Why? Why do you sit here and act like you care? Standing over you shaking with anger, I want to walk away but first, I just want to know why? You say nothing. You’re still sitting there looking at me and all I hear is silence. After a while I walk off still wondering… WHY?

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She Samantha H., Arts High School, Grade 10

She grew up being told that some things just can never be achieved She grew up living by standards society put on her She grew up wanting to grab those standards with her bare hands and rip them apart She grew up worrying about what others thought because she didn't want to be “weird” She grew up in the wrong generation which is what she told herself everyday She grew up believing that maybe she wasn't worth it Little did she know that one day she would make all her dreams become a reality

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I AM Miyoko M., West Side Leadership Academy, Grade 11

I AM the girl who puts on a mask to hide the pain inside. I AM the girl who cries out for her mother as her mother’s boyfriend molests her. I AM the girl who goes weeks on end starving herself because of her insecurities. I AM the girl who is surrounded by many but feels all alone. I AM the girl who sits in the back of the classroom while her peers slowly poison her with their lies. I AM the girl who cries herself to sleep wishing that her life would come to an end. I AM the girl who felt so small. I Am… I am? I am? I AM no longer THAT GIRL!!! I now AM the girl who no longer lets negativity drown her. I AM the girl who strives to achieve her goals. I AM the girl who is determined to prove wrong all those who ever doubted her. I AM the girl who perseveres through her pain and insecurities. I AM the girl who started with nothing and now has something. I AM the girl who will never let anyone tear her down! I AM who I AM because I know that I AM more than what others perceive me to be. I AM NOT the MINORITY. I AM the MAJORITY!

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Hope Karla M., Wilbur Cross High School, Grade 11

I don't remember a time when everything was simpler, or when I was happier. All I remember are tears and frustration, loud screams and things I'd rather forget. I will always remember and never forget the feeling of being stuck somewhere you don't want to be. I still feel it sometimes. Now, it's mostly replaced with the feeling of hope. Hope for a better future and for my wounds to heal. Hope for the people I love to be in a better place. Hope for there to be a happily ever after in my life. I've gone through a lot of tough things and others have gone through worse. Some of those people have also accomplished great things. They are the ones that give me hope. They make me feel that I can do the same.

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Just Stop Nani-Marie M., Wirt Emerson Visual and

Performing Arts Academy, Grade 9

Stop, Stop loving someone who doesn't love you Feels nothing for you but lust there is no trust now there's nothing left to love he has left your heart to rust in a dungeon of dust filled with the past memories that were somewhat fun Now there is a new you you've grown up so much that I don't know who you've become My heart aches… aches with pain wishing what we've done never begun the repeat of this treat is not so sweet Just…stop, stop loving someone that doesn't love you He can't feel when you're feeling as though you're going to bust because your heart is aching from the love the affection just everything you thought there was has now turned into much more it’s worse than what you thought it was The hurt in your heart is not just an aching pain it's pieces falling down a drain sharpened by a blade that will soon stab you again and again from the repeat of the same thing Look… Look at your face tell me those tears are all just a fake the lies you tell yourself isn't just a game those things stick to your brain they tell you oh it's ok it's just a phase but look at the pain that shows on your face you can't cover it up every day this all isn't just a dream so please don't repeat everything Because it will soon make you scream So please just stop this thing

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Unquenchable Hunger Amir D., Arts High School, Grade 12

OK... CLASS... Write me a 5 page essay on... WHAT IN GOD'S NAME! Mr. Rudolf pokes his head outside the window and upon sight, he sprinted out the door. He makes a heavy turn towards the opposite way away from the classroom to get help. He is in such a tremendous state of fear and adrenaline that he resembles a monster that startles an off-duty officer at the scene. He points the revolver and pulls the trigger. Panic begins to set in as the officer, frightened, drops the revolver and runs away. The gunshots attract nearby walkers to the classroom… I NEED TO RUN…NOW! I swipe the revolver from the pool of blood that surrounds my professor and I take a quick glance behind me and I see a silhouette of a bloody figure… IT’S TIME TO GO!! I escape its gaze... I don’t know what happened to everyone else in the classroom…there is pounding at the door followed by screams that are halted by teeth tearing through flesh. It only makes sense in my mind that someone or something is after me. I couldn’t dare to go back…I need to go to the nurse’s office to get my gym bag. I enter the empty room, and I grab my gym bag containing my hockey uniform, deodorant, and my hockey stick. I raid the rest of the office and find a medical kit. While making my exit, I see the same bloody figure facing me with extreme curiosity and an unquenchable hunger…

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“Grandma” Taylor W., Wilbur Cross High School, Grade 11

Everybody has that one person that they look up to in their life. Mine happens to be my grandmother; she was there with me through it all. I would never forget her smile or the talks we would have; every moment with her was memorable. The day God took her was the day I lost a part of me. I can honestly say she is the reason I have become the person everyone sees today. Every day I work harder than the day before to make her proud. I wish she could see what a hard working young woman I have become.

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Monster Inside Tiana W., Arts High School, Grade 12

There's no monsters in the closet Nor under the bed Just the ones in our heads Left over from destructive days And childish ways Fighting up from the past To leave us shaking in the shadows that they cast Nothing left the same As the monsters take over our brains There were times Before we were forced To play this game Then suffer through the pain Before reality only served as means of monetary gain Back when children Were free to think and speak And not criticized For being weak Or meek And the monsters under the bed Were scared of the light Only daring to come out at night You see, when the future was bright We weren't scared to fight But when the flames were extinguished Then the world was made meaningless With low spirits And broken souls We become slaves To a system that we ourselves made There's no conversations to be heard Nor freely spoken words Just voices screaming out Until there's nothing left to say Driving us to the brink of insanity I’m not proud of what I have to do just to be okay But you do what you have to To get by in this broken world With shaking hands Holding bloodied blades Left with broken skin

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And bleeding arms Cuts are made That won't ever go away The only remaining testaments Of the promises that were made Only to be broken With false hope And insecurity How are we not ashamed We are the monsters That we feared in our dreams Here we are Rooted to the ground But we aren't radicals Flowing through this assembly line machine of life Following strict orders from higher ups And for what? Money? A place to rest your head? A nice warm and fluffy bed? What's the point of sleeping if you can't even dream What's the point of living if you can't even breathe Suffocating in silence Then retaliating with violence Regretting the choices that we made Every step of the way Sacrificing our happiness Just to get paid Making excuses for the people we’ve become Just to say the job is done I don’t understand the world we live in But I hope that when this is all over That we are forgiven For addressing the future with blind ignorance And daft hypocrisy All that I know Is that even through this failed deliverance I am me You are you But pray tell, How long will this ring true?

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Tryna Get Out Tamara M., Wirt Emerson Visual and Performing Arts Academy, Grade 9

Tryna get out Please help me Tryna get out Please set me free Locked in a prison called Mind Tryna escape but nobody to find Tryna get out Where’s that light of mine? I can’t find the light that was supposed to set me free I’m just stuck at the bottom of the sea Or maybe I’m in a really deep dark hole Depressed and small with a darkened soul My mind says die But my heart says live It’s nothing more of me that I can give I wanna let go I really do But if I let go what will I do I wanna cry but that won’t help I’m afraid if I show emotion They’ll think I’m weak They’ll do nothing for me, but just be bleak Oh God Oh God what will I do I’m still in this prison feeling blue Where I am it’s always night There’s not even a moon to give off light Always bewildered on why this happens to me All I want is to just be set free Free from all the atrocious things Pacing back and forth tryna get a grip I’m going insane. Tamron Please don't trip. These preposterous thoughts I dare to think Rocking back and forth paranoid I can’t even blink. Sitting in the corner of this dark room “It” comes in very loom Sometimes I see it sometimes I don’t It locks me up in this area with bars I tried to break out but I don’t get far

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“It” closed me up and hid the key Get me out.. I wanna flee I tried so hard, but I’m still here Sitting in this cell full of fear I can’t see it’s so black All I see is “The Black Thing” It opens the cell and puts it on the floor Glaring at it scared to pick it up I don’t wanna do it but why not The bars on this cell are always locked I want to be strong but I am unsteady Death is coming and I am ready There, the machine that holds the cylinder metal layered objects that hurt I pick it up so I can be curt Right before I could pull the trigger There was the light surrounding the dazzling figure It grabbed my hand and pulled me into light Finally the time I don’t have to fight The darkness unraveled before my eyes The luminous before path in front of me When Death said Yes Life said No Maybe it’s not time for me to go The light is here and I am free I guess that is what happens when you want the luxury of life. The pain, the struggling, the fear, and the accomplishments are what life is about. That's just what I went through when I was Tryna Get Out.

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Perfection Dara M., Wilbur Cross High School, Grade 11

What exactly is perfection? I don’t believe it exists. Can perfection be overconfidence filled with risks? We as humans make mistakes, so how perfect can we be? Perfection is not the definition of me. Perfection is an idea I believe no one has seen. Oh, perfection, perfection, where can you be? Can you tell me exactly what do you really mean?

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Untitled Malik T., James Hillhouse High School, Grade 12

I should’ve listened. I’ve always categorized myself as a man since the age of 13. All of my friends had their fathers or at least a father figure in their life. But me, I convinced myself a long time ago that I was my own “Father.”There are many like me, men and women, and when I say “like me.” I mean never met their father. It’s sad because he’s the reason I’m in this World. I’m constantly being criticized about the way I act. It has literally always been that way for me. Even in pre-k I was being told to grow up. Middle school is where things got tough for me. I went to Edgewood Magnet School; a great school full of great staff members and unique students like me. Every morning when kids got to homeroom the whole school would listen to the principal on the intercom make announcements, stand whereever they are, face the American flag, put their right hand over their left pectoral, and say the “Pledge of Allegiance.” “Make Good Choices.” Mrs. Pachesa never stopped stressing this statement to the school. Especially me, I heard those words over a million times my nine years there. As if she was saying “Malik, make good choices” every time. Too bad I never listened to her, even when I knew that I should have. Whether it was stealing, touching girls, damaging school property, or cursing, the list goes on. Every time I got in trouble I was sent to Mrs. Pachesa’s office, escorted by Mr. Frank, the school’s truancy officer. If I wasn’t in her office, then I was in Mr. Frank’s office, and if not his then I was in Mr. Burns’ office and he didn’t play games with me. Mr. Burns was the Assistant Principal, the bluntest man I’ve ever encountered at the time. Even his presence scared me. I would be in class actually doing my work and he would pop up on me to make sure that I’m on track; once he left it was always a relief. But, overall Mr. Burns, Mrs. Pachesa, and Mr. Frank were the best assets to my middle school years. I wish I wasn’t so obnoxious back then, I would’ve listened to all the helpful advice they gave me. Everybody makes mistakes, but that doesn’t mean it’s okay to make mistakes; if you learn from your mistakes then its fine. Graduating middle school was the start of many accomplishments in my life. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, that’s why I set that goal to graduate. I made my mark in that school as a troubled child and left as a man setting and accomplishing goals. I wish middle schools had reunions like high schools because I would love to see their faces again, just to say “Thank You” to them for helping me do what I had to do to get where I am now. I don’t know where they are now, but I know that I will never forget them. Mrs. Pachesa, Mr. Burns, and Mr. Frank gave me the mindset I have now in high school and they motivated me to develop a better mindset which is the mindset I will have to get into and succeed in college. “Make good choices” started it all for me. Bettering myself, mental development, manipulating my structure to form the definition of a universally motivated scholar all were triggered by those three words. And those words will end it all for me.

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Untitled Audrema B., West Side Leadership Academy, Grade 11

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Voices Kiara M., Wilbur Cross High School, Grade 11

Mute the loud voices of self-doubt

that hinder your chances of

experiencing the world, and then turn

up the whispers of certainty

Like the many branches of a tree headed in different directions, we are all

connected.

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A Day in the Life of Sky Maxx Alexes C., West Side Leadership Academy, Grade 11

Have you ever thought about what it feels like to be a plane? Many people think it’s just about flying, but they don’t know what I go through. I have to be awake all day, every day flying back and forth from state to state and country to country. People depend on me to get them to their destinations safely. My days are run by strict schedules. Many people love and fear me for many different reasons. They get extremely upset when my flights are delayed or cancelled. It’s important that I keep my passengers satisfied. Let me give you a glimpse into an interesting day in the life of Sky Maxx… Suddenly I opened my eyes, shocked by the freezing, cold water that was attacking my long, strong wings with such immense pressure. After a while it felt great because I love being cleaned. I usually start my days off waking up to the beautiful sunrise while the pilots start up my engine. But this particular day is different. Just after getting all sparkly and clean, I find out that I won’t be taking off to Mississippi until 10:30a.m. Six hours is a very long time to sit still. I was doing a good job of waiting patiently until an hour before takeoff. So I decided to do a couple of tricks. As I was spinning in the sky, I heard the sound of my nickname being yelled, “Sky! Sky!” It was a wonderful sound of love and appreciation. 10:30 finally came around. All I could think about was the good and bad things that I was going to experience on during this flight. As passengers entered I could already smell stinky feet and must. Some smelled good like roses. The thing I hate is when some people sit down almost suffocating me. I don’t know if they showered or not. I also don’t like when people use the restroom and don’t wash their hands. So when they leave the restroom they get germs all over me. Don’t let me get started about when people waste food on my floor and spill drinks on my seats. That’s so disgusting! I feel all dirty, wet, and mostly hated! I was so excited because my grandma Maxine, the best flyer in the South, lives in Mississippi and couldn’t wait to see her. I finally arrived late that night due to constant stops and delays. I spoke to my grandma while looking up at the stars in the sky. I told her how I love seeing the mountains and rivers. However, I hate the terrible scents of some passengers. I also told her about a few conversations I overheard along the way. It was the best night ever.

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I love being a plane because I feel powerful. When I’m up in the sky I feel free and like I can do anything. I am filled with excitement and joy. I have no worries. I don’t think about when I will no longer be able to fly again or when I’m going to crash. I live my life one day at a time and sometimes like there’s no tomorrow.

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Settling Imari T., Arts High School, Grade 10

I see it all the time Sullen faces, stumbling about with their suitcases lagging behind them Their suits cling to them – or maybe they’re clinging to their suits? Trapped in their corporate jobs, they’re miserable They smile not because they want to but because they feel obligated to Still, the smile never reaches their eyes Sometimes I see it in parents The ones who live not for themselves but for their kin They stare at their children in what can be mistaken as fondness but no It is regret I see it everywhere; in the successful, in the homeless, in the corporate monkeys, in the parents They will all deny what they’ve done and what they’ve done was settle They’ll convince themselves that they’re happy, that this was what they wanted for themselves But they aren’t happy and this isn’t what they wanted It’s enough, they’ll say Their melancholy expressions will say otherwise They’re forever trapped in these unwanted lives because they settled They become an example for teenagers, like myself, because they’re everything we don’t want to be We don’t want to be miserable We don’t want to hate life We don’t want to hate ourselves We don’t want to settle We won’t settle I won’t settle

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Demons Tamara M., Wirt Emerson Visual and Performing Arts Academy, Grade 9

They always try to get you They never leave you alone You pray they leave but they stay You hope and wish they'll go away They get to your emotions They make you mean You try to stop them but you can't Can't talk, can't control, can't scream You go along with them so you won't suffer But that doesn't work so you close the shutters They come in different sizes, shapes, and forms They'll come so often to you it becomes the norm. You love God you really do But it seems like He isn't coming for you It seems as if you're the very last But the first to be casted These demons they come a lil’ too often I wanna pull the trigger and be put in a coffin Employees of the Devil On another level Kill yourself to make them pick up the shovel. Don't ask just do They’re all coming for you They'll think I'm insane They wouldn’t understand Don't cry. Don't weep. Don't Trip If you didn't hold my hand I was here I was there Every single day but you brushed me off You thought I was just tripping Those random feelings. Attitudes and Coldhearted actions were a cry for help You didn't come, Instead You hurt me without caring how I felt You expected me to care but I didn't You all gave me reasons of why I shouldn't So I tried not to care, that was a devilish way All I needed was someone who cared Someone who will stay

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I'm not really confused And I'm not dumb There's a demon in my head and there's more than one Those thoughts get the best of me and ruin my life One day it'll stop One day I won't fight You see demons in movies I see them in my head Your demons aren't real if you claim they’re under the bed You don't know how I feel I don't think you care You put this unbelievable hurt on me A hurt I cannot bear So I apologize if I may be too difficult I apologize for my coldhearted ways It's my way of surviving through my days People don't love you They're demons in disguise If you don't wanna be caught Then you better be wise No one really understands me I've accepted that One day I'll be gone and I'll never come back One day my eyes will be open but I will still see black The sin is done and I am still reapin’ God Please Save Me From These Demons.

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How to Learn Julio F., Arts High School, Grade 11

Wake up and put on my shoes, Get on my pants and go to school, Told what to do and many don’t care, You do your best and you still fail, No reward for being unique, You only win if you play the sheep, Know to be smart in your own way. And don’t let those halls decide whether you rise or fall. Because even a genius doesn’t know it all.

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It's True Until It Is You Zaakiyah C., Arts High School, Grade 12

There once was a woman who was having a baby. She was a 15 year old, weak, kind young lady, who knew if it cried she would meet her demise, so she was wondering if she should kill it, maybe. Men and women hated her so. They were hoping she'd let the baby grow. They called her a killer as her parents withered in shame as they walked down death row. She was not disowned by her pappy or mum. But they were very mad at their hometown. To them was it totally fair that she had to take care of the child of that rapist bum? There once was a man with lighter skin. He loved his 'him's and he loved other women. He loved more than hated and much appreciated the character that lay within. And way back into his generation, his great-grandfather owned a plantation. While he didn't keep the legacy and his grandfather's money, the man kept the hatred from other nations. He was a racist sexist, homophobic jerk who did his best to please this earth. But no matter what he did everyone forbid him from being open-minded because of what he was worth. There once was a child who didn't know much like 2+2 and the values of touch. For things he didn't know, he was smacked to and fro because good and bad was something he was confused with, very much. Sometimes he could get it right;

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He shouldn't swear or get into fights. But he didn't get why he had to get hit for things like being up past midnight. For random reasons he'd be pounded. At random times, he'd be grounded. He grew up confused on how to choose the right and wrong reasons to hurt the confounded. We say to people, “if only they knew.” We ask people, “See what I go through?” But that's all true until it was you who had to see the world from another point of view.

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Lifeless Klaudette S., Wirt Emerson Visual and

Performing Arts Academy, Grade 12

“The carousel never stops turning” It just keeps spinning round and round and round… And no matter how dizzy you get you can’t get off... It’s like your feet are superglued to the floor of the carousel and whereever it goes, whether round and round you are going with it… And eventually you get used to the dizziness, The circles become your everyday life The vomit becomes your laughter The tears become your bathing water The dizziness becomes all you see and it just sits in the pit of your stomach and you feel numb… You feel nothing; you’re like a dancing particle …. Destined by the laws of physics to spin forever And the thought is unsettling …. But the scary part is…. You become nothing

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I Never Told You Because...

Alexis W., Arts High School, Grade: 11 What if I was scared to tell you how I feel the thoughts that ponder my head the unforgivable sites and words. I never told you because, maybe it was you. The secrets that crept ahead and somehow whispered its way toward me. Oh yes I’ve heard. The moments that seemed happy were now doomed the ways of life were screwed, screwed like how you left me you left me hanging for a very long time. I never told you because, you abuse our relationship. I was there all the time to lean on But I was to blind, all you did was waste my precious time. Simply I was there for your pleasure and where is your guilt. It has run away like a cat from a dog. Its hidden features have now showed itself. Not only to me, I never told you because now the world sees it. You hide your mischievous ways but soon enough your mischievous acts will follow and stumble in front of you. We will recite these lines that said we were there for each other but listen it was never from my heart, I never told you because I knew it was just a line on paper from the start. Shady yea right, not as much shade that you threw to me. It’s not the same as you put me to the side to stand within the crowd, you were embarrassed of me, I never

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told you because I will always stand proud. You let me down like a way for me to drown, this so-called friend has left me for stray. But don't worry for today. I never told you because, carpe diem, I will seize the day. Saying we will be friends to the end was just a line for you too don't deny it. It's now obvious, but your words stabbed me in the back. I never told you because I guess a broken friendship was meant for me.

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What It Means To Succeed Alberto R., West Side Leadership Academy, Grade 9

Succeeding means to: Never give up. Don’t ever stop believing. Follow your dreams. If you want to succeed you must Pick yourself up and Keep fighting to become what you want to be. Ignore the haters, Never putting yourself down. If you want to win you Need to find your light. Prove others wrong. Make your own motivation. Raise yourself up. If you're willing to succeed then you Must become stronger than before. Find your own passion. If you don’t fail then you Must not give in to the pain. Push yourself past your limitations.

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Does Social Media Have a Positive or Negative Impact on Today’s Society?

Tai L., Wilbur Cross High School, Grade 12 As of right now, we as human beings are living in a highly advanced technological society: where we can pull up the Internet browser anytime we want from our phones, we can drive cars without the use of gas, and can renew power just from using the sun and wind. We can’t just seem to catch a break from using technology, never mind Social Media. Social Media can impact our everyday lives in both negative and positive ways because it can both distract us from our tasks, but it can also be very educational to the public. Benefits of Social Media include: keeping people up to date on the news, introducing the latest technology to the public, and shedding light on controversial issues that are happening around the world that would otherwise never be shown because they are not “mainstream.” Due to this generation’s strong interest in using technology and Social Media, I feel that its increased presence in both high school and college curriculums would be very beneficial because it’s both interactive and educational. To begin with, there are many people nowadays that just seem to stare at their phone all day. Many tend to see this is a bad habit because they believe it is a distraction and prevents the users from learning anything. Although this may be true sometimes, it can also increase our knowledge about the world that we live in by keeping us up-to-date with the current news that we may have missed. Speaking from my own experience, I might scroll down on my Facebook timeline and see that someone posted a meme on Donald Trump. If it piques my personal interest, I might start to research and look up his campaign speech to find out the truth. I may also learn more about the presidential campaign overall, as it would be beneficial to know more about the people that could potentially run this country in the future. Not only does Social Media inform the public about the latest news, but it also helps people with various learning styles. Some people may learn through reading and writing, but I am personally a visual learner. I need to be able to see what I’m learning, whether if it’s through a picture or video, in order to absorb the content. Social Media gives people a chance to visually see something by showing us pictures with captions and allows us to fully visualize the information, which can help a lot of visual learners like me. In conclusion, I believe Social Media positively impacts society by piquing interest in various topics through visually showing information. It further broadens education of the public by sharing global issues that aren’t always mainstream, and keeps the public informed on the current news.

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She to I Diavian M., Wirt Emerson Visual and

Performing Arts Academy, Grade 11 "She" doesn't need to wear that outfit, "she" is distracting her coworkers. "She" doesn't need to study science, "she" needs to tend to her kids and her husband. Maybe this "she" would help provide in one way or another for men, but what will "she" do for herself? As a young woman you will come across these situations. It's expected. What a young woman makes of her life would somehow relate back to a male, a male who will not have anything to do with her life, a male who chooses to make something out of "her." This, my friend, will ultimately make everything "fall into place." The male wakes up, gets dressed, goes to work, gets paid a decent amount after the day is done to provide for the family, eats and then goes to sleep to do it all over again. The female wakes up and takes care of her kids. Then what? Is that all everyone expects it to be? What about finding career that'll be of service to everyone, other than the family that she is "stuck with?” What happened to women taking positions as CEOs of multimillion dollar companies or becoming the head scientist at the lab that is making cures for cancers? It has been categorized as impossible. Working well above a high school education is what narrow minded people would call impossible. Being a successful woman is what "she" will not be. It is time for "she" to stop being placed in a society where her future is determined by expectations. "She" needs to figure out, “What will ‘I’ do? What can ‘I’ do to make myself better? ‘I’ will make myself the best person I can be and I will do it with grace. ‘I’ will work hard for what I want and have it granted to me in its full potential. ‘I’ will be better than I was a couple of days ago.” Yes, taking yourself on this journey to self discovery is hard and yes, you will hit dead ends on this journey, but the outcome could change your life as well as the lives of those women who think that they cannot do it. Changing the stereotypical phrase: "she" needs to do this into "I" want to do this will not only help you as a strong woman, but also others who are looking for that inspiration.

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Without Words Frances L., Wilbur Cross High School, Grade 11

She was my best friend. I knew I didn't choose to love her, it just happened. One day, as she walked towards me, I didn't have the words in me to let her know how much I wanted to be with her. So I played her a song, and she quickly said, “I love you.” That's when it hit me… Music brings us so much closer.

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Untitled Audrena B., West Side Leadership Academy, Grade 11

Weather torn and beaten yet still standing tall

through all seasons of life.

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To Blossom Chris N., Wirt Emerson Visual and

Performing Arts Academy, Grade 12 Lust. To lust something means you want it. But, you want something in such a way where your whole being is affected by your yearning need. This need grows and grows and then metastasizes into a demon, a metaphor for a deep want for something better and more accommodating than what you currently possess. It eats away at your soul. Anguish, pain, and insecurities captivate your senses and then cripple you from the inside. The feeling of love seems unfathomable and you become stuck in a quicksand feeling of darkness. This darkness begins to engulf who you truly are and then you start to become something that you aren’t. Then, things start getting worse, people die, you lose friends, and you lose family. After that, fights start occurring, people around you change, and then you are isolated. But, right when you thought things couldn’t get any worse, you explode letting loose all of the evil and discrepancies that you have bottled up to this moment. You yell, scream and curse the environment that is around you. You scream “Why! WHY!” You ask yourself why you go through these situations and no one else does. But then something happens. Something sparks inside of you. A freeing feeling comes over you. You realize that you begin to change. You can’t quite put your finger on it. It’s a new feeling and as you figuratively touch the feeling, it becomes familiar. It changes your perspective on your previous situations that you have been through. You start having this light and airy feeling. What is this feeling? Can you label this feeling? Afterwards, people start looking at you differently than they did before. Years pass and you develop yourself into an individual. Now people notice you not only from a physical change, but also from an intellectual viewpoint. Now you are left with a couple of choices, either get caught up in the attention that you are receiving or remember where you came from and be real with yourself. They say people don’t notice you until you become someone. In the end, will you appease these people or become your true self? So, what will you do? Will you buckle or will you blossom?

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I Want Rianne H., Wirt Emerson Visual and Performing Arts Academy, Grade 11

I would like a husband. Not for the love, romance and happiness but solely for my own selfish benefits. But first, before I attempt to choose a husband there are some requirements that he must meet. I want a husband who is attractive, but not too attractive so that he overshadows me. I want a husband who is tall. 6 foot is a minimum; otherwise it's back to the friend zone. I want a husband who is financially stable, so that he may buy me whatever I want whenever I want. After all it is the man’s job to treat the woman, right? I want a husband who will love me more than his own mother. I want a husband who is emotionless. I want a husband who will not cry even at the death of his own mother. After all, real men don't cry do they? I would like a husband to only drink “manly drinks,” nothing garnished with any pretty decoration that shows anything less than a hard masculine shell. I want a husband who will hand craft and build every piece of furniture in my house (as everything he buys is automatically considered mine) with his very own tool box. After all, isn’t that what men do? Build things? I want a husband who will do everything that I ask of him whenever I ask for it. I want a husband who will drop whatever he is doing to be at my beck and call. But, even with all of my desires I still want my husband to find the time to work to provide for me despite my full ability to provide for myself. I want a husband to understand me even if our language is English and I’m speaking Spanish. After all, aren’t men supposed to understand women no matter the circumstances? I want a husband who will open doors made of plutonium. I want a husband who will walk at the right distance from me, not too close so that I may enjoy my personal space but not too far so that he is willing to sacrifice his life to keep me safe. He will walk on the side closest to the street, and place his expensive jacket on the muddy ground so that I may cross safely no fear of damaging my shoes, even if they may be old tennis shoes. After all, that is the gentlemanly thing to do, right? Now that I’ve described what I want in a husband, let’s move to what I do not want. I do not want a husband who will expect me to stay at home and cook and feed the children. I do not want a husband who will expect me to dress in what he approves nor do I want a husband who will question even the most outlandish of my fashion choices. I do not want a husband who will expect me to take a desk job

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or a nursing job or any of that sort. I do not want a husband who will make ridiculous jokes such as “that’s a girly task” or “don’t be such a girl.” I do not want a husband who believes that he may do as he please without consulting me and expect me to be okay. I do not want a husband who will feel the need to partake in infidelity and buy me a card and flowers to show how much he “loves” me and expect me to weep at his feet. I will not be a human stereotype of what a girl or woman should be. Now that I’ve acknowledged my must haves and unwanteds I guess you can conclude that there are men who can even come close to and meet this expectation. I want a lot and I can’t help that, so much that I’d rather spend an eternity alone than settle. However, I must admit one last wish. I want a husband who is the embodiment of a human stereotype of what a man is and everything one is supposed to be. After all, if that is what a man wants in a wife why can’t this be what a woman wants in a husband?

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Untitled Kiara B., West Side Leadership Academy, Grade 11

Walk through the darkness into the light.

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The Violent Use of Guns Kruti P., Wilbur Cross High School, Grade 12

Dear Mr. President, Every day when my dad goes to his job at the gas station, I always wonder, “Is he safe there? Are we safe in here?” South Asians like me, who immigrated to America, have changed according to how the people here in America would like, accepted the American lifestyle while trying our best to fit in this culture and the environment. However, there are other people who expect more. I know that according to the USA’s Constitution, it is the right of all individuals in America to protect themselves, through the right to have a gun; yet, we all know about the increasing gun violence. People are using guns violently; we could be shot at an elementary school. We could be murdered at a church or movie theater. The use of guns in robbery and directly shooting a person is common according to recent news. Like I said before, my dad is working in a gas station and even though the gas station is in a safe area, I always pray that he will be safe. There is always one part of my heart that is afraid and scared for him. Some people who have guns are aggressive. I worry that even though my dad is calm and his gas station is in very good area, what if someone misunderstands him? What if he is not sure how to clearly answer them, as he does not know perfect English? What will happen then? These questions always frighten me. The case of the ISIS terror attacks in Paris and other nations, also make us as Indians scared as people living here in the USA. Not all the Muslims are terrorists. However, attacks like 9/11 made many people, such as Donald Trump who is one of the Republican candidates and possibly our next President, very angry with Muslims, people who look like us. He and the other people who are supporting him have to think logically that killing and showing anger towards common and innocent Muslims is not the solution of the terrorist attacks. Additionally, as we Indians look like Muslims and few people, except Indians and Muslims, know the difference between us, we are always afraid for our lives when these types of attacks happen. During the terrorist attack on 9/11, many of the Indian owners of motels and liquor stores had to shut their stores down for almost 2-3 weeks because of the constant fear that someone was going to attack them. In the year 2012, the horrific shooting at Newtown Elementary School killed 20 children, the shooter’s own mother, six other adults and the shooter himself. This is direct evidence that when a person is angry with any small issue, they use their guns to kill innocents in order to reduce his/her anger and frustration. This event further shows that

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not only South Asians, but also Americans are tolerating this kind of violence. In the society and generation that we are living in, I wonder, is it possible to create the peaceful and lavish hopes for the future in an environment in which I don’t have any idea about what I to make another angry with me, and I could be dead in the next second? Is it fair that even though I am in America, which consists of many different cultures and religions, I still fear guns and cannot do anything about it? Therefore, Mr. President, please take some serious actions towards the violent use of the gun. For instance, reduce the selling of guns, give guns only to the military, soldiers, policemen or businessmen, who are actually using them to ensure the safety of the common people. There are many countries which do not have this right of owning guns that are safe. Some of these countries are India, Australia, and United Kingdom, where there are many strict rules about guns, such as highly restrictive firearm regulation. I believe background and mental health checks should be necessary in the certification process to know about the anger or personality of a person and the reasons about why that person needs a gun. I know that President Obama made more rules to reduce the gun violence, for instance, more background checks, but it needs to be tighter. This is not only South Asians’ problem but Americans’ too. Remember that the time is changing and we should change with it, too, as well as the laws. The generation that created the Second Amendment Right, “A well-regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed,” was made with the influence of the situations they experienced in the past. However, that does not mean that we should continue this in the future. Sincerely, Kruti P.

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Six Word Memoir Brianna E., East Side High School, Grade 12

I stand independent, but always united.

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Superwoman Mercedes G., East Side High School, Grade 11

Dear Superwoman, I thank you, And I promise I will be true, I swear I’ll fight so you can have relief ‘Cause this world is not the one of misbelief, It’s a hard one, oh yes I know, And I know that every night you put on a show, ‘Cause you say you’re happy, you say you’re alright, But I know how much you fight, To hide those tears, superwoman, And I know how much you do for me You fight off the enemies that try to call you weak. I know that right now you are breaking your back for me, You’re conducting and creating a complete strategy, You’re fighting the world so I can be okay, At the same time as maintaining yourself and keeping yourself sane. And making sure I have all the necessities So that I can wake up every day. Superwoman, I just wanted to say I know you hide those tears, Superwoman, And I know how much you do for me And I have seen you fight all the enemies Who have called you weak. You’ll do anything to see me smile, Even when I was small, And now yes I remember I’m your baby, no matter how tall, I never can be ‘cause you took care of me And you made sure that I was always strong Then you’d tuck me in bed, And laid down my head, And called me babygirl And then when you thought I was asleep You’d hold your cry deep, and pretend the pain went away. But you don’t have to cry, Superwoman I know how much you’ve done for me Don’t give up, you can fight off those last enemies That call you weak. But how we are here, And those people that said you couldn’t do it were wrong, ‘Cause you are superwoman, you are the definition of strong, And the disguise which confines you can now be unraveled, Now let your hair down, Superwoman, ‘Cause I know how much you have done for me, Now I will fight those people who try to call you weak.

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Anarchism Miana S., Wirt Emerson Visual and

Performing Arts Academy, Grade 11

Anarchism itself discloses essential factors leading up to the emerging truths about what the subject of matter embraces. The introduction of Demanding the Impossible: History of Anarchism divulges truths about anarchism in which many would never comprehend or interpret. Intensively underlining the key truths of this social notion will be eye-opening for many. The introduction pinpoints the main ideas of this controversial philosophy. Summarizing the first example “Anarchy is chaos, when law and order collapse and the destructive passions of man run riot.” This specific fact focuses primarily on the effect and cons of anarchism. As the arid officials consciously demand and reconstruct society to its best fitting, a biased government is reiterated. A well organized and civilized system has withered itself away. An anarchist’s personal needs and desires conflict and intertwine with the actual needs of society. Therefore, passions and frustrations erupt unmannerly mentally and physically among society. The overall sum and substance of this argument was the painting of an anarchy doing more harm to society than the anarchists. Anarchists’ extropianistic thinking is selfish. The proposition in line three specifically states “Anarchy is nihilism, the abandonment of all moral values and the twilight of reason.” Scrutinizing this accurate position revealed the basic, but essential reason of why anarchism is not an unerring form of government. A government needs foundation and morals. In an Anarchy, one person is the foundation. However it is unabridged. Abandonment of morals in society would cause a major economic decline. Chaos and disruption shouldn’t be natural and prone in a society because of one’s uncontrollable jurisdiction issues. A government’s purpose is to serve society in the most preeminent way. Anarchism would not fulfill this need. Anarchism proves to be synonymous to Freudian Theory’s Super Ego. This is so because an anarchist knows inevitably right from wrong, however selfish idealistic potentials construct a wall between reality/society and a fantasy/personal.

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New York Alison L., Arts High School, Grade 12

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Hesitation

Dyamond F., West Side Leadership Academy, Grade 11

This is a picture in Manhattan. We are eating ice-cream next to a window that has a view of the whole city.

Hesitation is a symptom of fear, but ALSO a sign of courage.

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My Way Courtney G., Wirt Emerson Visual and Performing Arts Academy, Grade 12

I walk through this world with nameless expectations, I go day by day with the question of which direction, It’s hard to tell exactly where I’ll end up or how far I’ll go, It’s a thought that I don’t think I’ll ever truly know, I was born to be wild. To be optimistic, I live by this way of life, Just in case you missed it, People find it hard to believe that a person can achieve prominence without a plan, But at the same time ask yourself what happens to writing in the sand? It goes away after a while because the wind comes and blows it away, Apply that to a person’s life it causes disarray, I prefer to be free like the water but sharp like a sword, It may seem perilous but I promise you it’s not absurd, This way can make miracles and provides monumental solutions, But you can’t achieve if you don’t step outside of welfare and find a resolution, This whole ideology is what I’m premised on, With some assistance throughout life I’ve learned which things are right and wrong, Whether it be something like racism or monetary differences, I still know good and well what a person who has life is, I also want to think higher than the modern-day abolitionist, Because problems come out of nowhere the way this world is and they persist, And I don’t want to be left scratching my head being confused, And I definitely do not want to utter phrases that go overused, Life is more than focusing on smaller things that may seem major, Even if it may sound appealing to a certain group’s favor, What I strive for is peace in majority of what is problematic today, But it’s worth it if I can guarantee that the effects will stay, I want prosperity for everyone that’s known and unknown to me, I’m tired of hearing about death and grimacing things on TV, In the end I’ll have life by the phrase which shall say, Like Frank Sinatra said, “I did it my way.”

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Untitled Doaa M., James Hillhouse High School, Grade 12

In September of 2001, a couple came to New Haven, CT with a 3 year old child from Casablanca, Morocco not knowing any English or what to expect in this country. Since emigrating, my parents have sent me back multiple times. It was great having two homes; experiencing two different cultures. However, the summer before going into sixth grade, I went to back to Morocco for the last time. That was the last summer I got to go home, before coming back and being transferred to a new school. On the first day at my new school we had an icebreaker for the students to get to know each other. One student would get up and say things that they did, places they have went, books they read or anything they wanted to share and the class would raise their hand if they did something similar. When it was my turn I shared how I went to France that summer for the first time. No students raised their hand. They all were looking at me as if I were an alien. They thought I was lying. As a young girl that was the first time I wanted to change myself. That year changed my mentality for the worse. Although my grades were good, I was losing my personality. That’s when I started wanting to change myself to fit in. Entering high school as an American, I forgot my culture, where I’m from, and who I was. Not realizing it: that was the cause of my downfall during my freshman and sophomore years. I became unfocused, and not knowing what I wanted anymore, I mixed up my priorities and got caught up in time trying to fit in. July 3rd 2014 my family went back to Morocco for the summer. I didn’t want to go. I was furious that my parents decided to go, knowing I did not want to. I planned to work that summer in order to buy things I thought I needed. I wanted to be with my friends that summer, thinking that they were more important. Also, with only a weekly salary of about $500, my father used the tax money we got back to fund the trip. We were in no way financially in a position to pay for a round trip to Morocco for a family of four. Despite my protest, my parents made me go. My father told me that I “was becoming an American” and that I was “forgetting my roots.” It was only when I got to Morocco that I realized exactly what he meant. When I think about my experience in Morocco the things I remember are the smell of the ocean, the nature and the people. One experience that I’ll never forget is the time I witnessed seeing poverty first hand. One day I saw a boy selling napkins in a market area. The heavy poverty in Morocco was no surprise to me but watching

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the boy sell napkins in the Moroccan heat had a severe impact on me. As I sat in a café, I realized that life was much bigger than I had realized. I realized that things that the privileged think are important aren’t really important in the large scale. I walked over to him and bought all the napkins. The boy ran over to his mother, who was selling pastries on the roadside. I remember their eyes and the sadness that they held. They had no hope. Coming back to America, I cared about the things that were important. I spent more time with my family. As far as school was concerned, things began to come together. The more that I studied Arabic, the more I began to understand English. Embracing my Moroccan culture helped me to find my American Identity. My time in the United States from kindergarten to high school has changed me tremendously. I’ve learned that the older you get the more you want to be like everybody else. In my years in high school, things that shouldn’t have mattered to me, mattered to me. Going into college I feel as if I can help other international students overcome assimilation and find themselves. Once I’m in college I won’t have to struggle to find myself and I will be able to focus on academics without distraction. Entering as a first generation student, I will be able to make my parents proud as the first Moroccan-American graduate in my family.

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Starry Night

Osariemen N., Arts High School, Grade 10 The stars, they sing. They sing a lullaby to the world that helps them fall asleep. I, on this cliff, can see the world closing its eyes. Lights turn off, windows close, doors lock. The stars are an orchestra and the moon their conductor. They sing together in H.y for the families on Earth to sleep to. But where is my family? Why am I listening to this lullaby alone? As I stand on this cliff, looking down at the world, I walk towards the edge. The lullaby gets to me and I start to doze off. My eyes flicker like a broken light. Open... Close... open... close. Standing on this cliff, I fall asleep... and falling with my sleep was my body, towards the ground.

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A White Man’s Property (Tribute To: Black History Month) Zakeema W., East Side High School, Grade: 10

Am I a white man’s property, does my momma live in poverty, what’s wrong with my society, the mental aspects of becoming something I know I could be. Am I a white man’s property, did the past take effect on me, are they try’na get back at me, For living up to this stereo society I must be a white man’s property, living in a world of photography capturing the in and outsides of me momma told me this is what they expect of me I have to be a white man’s property to believe what society thought of me my past ancestors didn’t know that this would be the world they created the better side of me A White Man’s Property is something I might as well just be living up to the state of the society I might as well continue being in the white man’s legacy

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Delivernou Sherell P., Arts High School, Grade 10

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Untitled Jamela B., West Side Leadership Academy, Grade 11

Food We need it Clothes We need it Shelter We need it... We are hungry. We are alone Save us We have no one but those who struggle with us Save us If you were in need wouldn't you want to be saved? You can do it help save us WE ARE IN NEED, Come help us Our time is running out PLEASE SAVE US …

A brilliant display of one of God’s

masterpieces as the sun sets in

Gary, Indiana.

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Is Cancer Infectious? Thalia G., James Hillhouse High School, Grade 12

Is cancer infectious? Technically speaking, it is not, but in my opinion, it has a powerful influence on people nearby. We may not have the actual disease, but we dwell on it as much as those who do. My sister got cancer when she was only five years old. I was only sixteen years old, and I had to take on the role of a mother. My dad was in a dark place, dwelling upon this tragic situation. My biological mother was nowhere to be found. Valeria, my sister, only had me. Her pain was something that was now consuming me. Her problems were becoming part of me, as if the baggage was handed over to me. My education has always been my main priority in life, but at this point everyone wondered whether education was as important to me as I stated it was. Teachers could not help me if I wasn't able to attend school, and their doubts were so persuasive I began to question myself, and whether I had the potential to overcome this. I doubted my potential, my intelligence, and contradicted my mindset. I had put something above my education, which had never occurred before. I went from being an honors student who successfully struggled to adapt to high school, to not giving it so much importance. What was I thinking? I wasn’t thinking – that was the issue. I was letting my emotions make my decisions. I preferred to cherish each and every moment with my sister because tomorrow is never a promise. I was not assured that my sister could awaken the next day. I took advantage of the time I could spend to help her and take care of her. If worse came to worst I didn't want to have any regrets. In this scenario my subconscious believed that my sister was the highest priority. Maybe it was my motherly instinct. I was raising her. When the chaos in my life calmed down I took the time to reflect and I realized that I messed up. I tripped and fell. “No one is perfect,” is what most would say. However, life taught me to apply Social Darwinism to my present actions, and my future plans. “Survival of the fittest.” The world doesn’t pause on the behalf of anyone so I wasn’t going to stop striving for my success under any circumstances. My sister was in remission by the time I entered junior year, and I knew that nothing or no one was going to get in the way of me leaving my mark. I worked very hard in each and every one of my classes. I gave my all. I received Honors each marking period and passed my junior year as an Honors student just as I planned. Taking care of my sister and taking the role of mother made me realize that a mother does everything for their child to have a better life. So on that point I wanted to be example, a role model for her to show her

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that dreams and goals can be accomplished as long as one works hard for it. Determination is my key to success. I am very passionate when it comes to my studies and I refuse to let my mistakes make me lose any opportunities. I’m currently a senior taking college courses. I may stumble along the way to my success but I’m OK with that. Each obstacle thrown in my way will just broaden me even more. I’ve heard many say, “You’re in control of your own success,” and I know that is true for me. Hard work never goes to waste. Courage is a skill that will be of great use to help me continue. Therefore I will dominate every situation to succeed.

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Father Karen M., East Side High School, Grade 10

Oh Father Nothing is weaker than a man who hurts women or children You will always be my father but I hope that you know it’s your fault that I’ll never know what that means You left a void that can never be replaced Oh Father Put the bottle down, for the love of your daughter Why did you walk away from us? I thought that you loved us Was it something that I did? Was it something that I said? I’ve been missing you so bad And you don’t seem to care I missed your goodnight kisses and your warm hugs but that all changed when you put your hands on the ones you swore you loved Sometimes I think I hate you Sometimes I think I love you Oh Father I know you were a troubled man But I hope heaven has given you a second chance

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Who Am I? Maya L., Wirt Emerson Visual and

Performing Arts Academy, Grade 11 I look in the mirror and see myself but don’t know who is staring back at me. The vision of who I imagine myself to be is blurred by who I have become. Who do I want to be? The question is open-ended. When my mind is made up, it’s shifted, to listen to the pagans in my ear, yelling for me to hear. NO, who do I want to be? I want to me. I want to be free. Free of the arms enclosed around me. Telling me to be, but not to be me. Who do I want to become? The question goes unanswered. A doctor, a lawyer, a daughter of a pastor has to choose one. No other options remain available due to the veil over my eyes. I only see the things others want inside. NO, who do I want to become? I want to become more than just a figment of everyone else’s reality. Fighting to have me trying to be the things they couldn’t be. That’s why they chose me. I have become their new reality. Who am I? The question is apparent. I am the girl living in a house, my parent struggling to pay rent. I am the girl burdened with the dreams of people around me, hoping that my future will become their reality. I am the girl blindsided by people’s tall tales, thinking that my life is their fairy tale. I am the girl hoping that truth is near, when all I hear is other voices in my ear. I have evolved into an individual with no resolve. Adapting my hopes, my dreams, and my life to those whose power influences me. But in due time, when the tides arise, It will be my time to shine. To take off the veil that covers my natural eyes. Only then, will my light glow and the path will show,

Who I am.

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I’m Sorry Essence B., Wirt Emerson Visual and Performing Arts Academy, Grade 11

My acceptance rate for I’m Sorry is slim The I’m Sorry is only scratching the surface of our problems is not fixing them So many people use the word it's not even genuine I'm tired of forgiving you for the same old things I'm Sorry is an excuse, it cannot replace the hurt and pain I feel It's just words coming out of your mouth I'm Sorry doesn't change anything it might change the way i feel in that moment but that's all I don't know when i will just get enough and walk away It's not the words you say, it's the actions you do When you say “I'm Sorry” you go back to your same old self "I'm Sorry" is supposed to come from the heart (vulnerability) It doesn’t justify your actions but it’s supposed to rectify your mind When will you stop making me cry and hurting me Every time I turn around you are saying “I’m Sorry” How about showing your gratitude or buying me something nice Instead of saying “I’m Sorry start respecting me as a human I’m Sorry is not hard to say, it's only hard when you don't mean it Sorry is never enough Some people say a “sorry” can go a long way but to me it's just two words that are rolling off of your tongue.

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Safe Haven Jacqueline F., James Hillhouse High School, Grade 12

Throughout junior year, I was not myself. I had so much going on that I became overwhelmed with it all. Between work and my Advanced Placement Courses, I barely had any room to breathe. I was so stressed out that it began to affect my health. I’ve always been prone to migraines, but when my stress levels reached as high as they did, they got worse. I could rarely get myself to fall asleep, and when I did, it was in the middle of class. My mood changed every other minute, and the last thing I ever wanted to do was speak to anybody. I just wanted to be left alone, I wanted to hide. Since I could not go to my mother for guidance, I turned to reading and writing because they gave me a place to run from my troubles. My mother and I don’t have the best relationship. We are polar opposites and in being so, we are always bumping heads. I don’t talk to her about what is going on in my life because just about everything I say to her is a trigger for an argument. Since I am not the best in keeping her in the loop, she is always bombarding me with a million different questions. She wants to know what my responsibility is as the Battalion Commander for JROTC, about my involvement in Best Buddies, work, or my grades and plans for college. More than that, she wants to know how life is affecting me overall, and my stress levels. However, no matter how much she insists that I talk to her, I find it easier to turn to my notebook or a novel, so I do. There is something about living someone else’s life that is strangely addicting. It is interesting how someone’s entire world can be contained in just a number of pages, and by simply turning each one, I can learn all about them. I get drawn into it and can feel what they feel, experience their daily struggles, or try to figure out what will happen next, like I do in my own world. Reading and writing have become my way to escape. They act as a coping mechanism for all of the stress that I’ve had to endure. Dealing with someone else’s troubles or simply writing down my own, makes it easier to face them. I have made homes of every single one of my books, each one being just as comforting as the last and all being much more peaceful than my actual home. I am just as passionate about writing as I am reading. It is the only way to keep my head straight, the only way for me to free my mind of the thoughts that may disturb me. I have never been good at speaking. I can never find the correct combination of words to get my point across, or say how I feel. However, when I write, everything comes out; it all sort of just spills out of me. There is nothing for me

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to think about and nothing for me to process as it all comes naturally. The relief is intense and feels as if I have finally found a voice, one that has kept me healthy. The most important thing that I have learned from reading and writing is that there is nothing more destructive than words that have been left unsaid. Though I have a really bad habit of keeping my feelings to myself, I have found some comfort in the idea that I can share my troubles with strangers who might feel the same way I do. So, I will write. I will write until I have nothing left to say, and when I run out of words, I know my books will still be there to comfort me.

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You cannotcommunicatewithsomeonewho Doesn’t Speak the Same Language

Favour I., Arts High School, Grade 11 They bashed his head in She’s gone CRAZY Alone, Alone, Alone You have to be better than that Do not let anger consume You cannot give up It’s not giving up, it’s just giving in Not to the suppression But to the inevitable They have guns, knives, axes, bats What do you have? The same weapons The SAME WEAPONS the very things that has devoured my life You’re challenging them It’s become a fair fight Like it should’ve been The mighty swords have matched Let it begin The fight that they longed for has begun You’re speaking their language I’m speaking their language

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Desires of the Heart (Love Poem No. 1) Ebenezer A., Wirt Emerson Visual and Performing Arts Academy, Grade 12

O, how absence makes the heart grow fonder, yearning from here to there, and from there onto yonder. For there is no place, nor space, in which my better half should hide, that our hearts should not find room within to abide. O, how much longer shall the pain and horror of distance haunt me! O Lord, may my troubles come and find thee! May your angels take me by my feet, leaving my troubles beneath until two lovers' hearts once again meet. My love, a lifetime in service to thee is no mere servitude, For with only thee may my heart, mind, and soul find tranquil solitude. O, how I pray thanks that your heart is forever mine, through marriage ordained by God through our sweet St. Valentine. May God Himself bless our love and our bond from this day until our last, for days coming and days past. Let our love be neither slow nor fast, only quicker than words spoken and slower than words not yet cast.

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New York Alison L., Arts High School, Grade 12

This is a picture I took of the new World Trade Center. The angle enhances its beauty and reminds me of an

image we might see in a brochure.

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The Strange Place Zhana P., Wirt Emerson Visual and

Performing Arts Academy, Grade 10 There was this place, My brothers went to. But mom always said, “This place isn’t for you”. I walked past the strange place, And my mind kept spinning. And all I could see, Was my mom and brothers grinning. What could this place be? And why couldn’t I go? My mom and brothers been there, For about a month or so. They barely came home, They were so busy there. While I was alone, Upstairs combing my hair. I asked my brothers, And they never told. They just sat there, Until their face got cold. I don’t understand Why this place is a secret. And why my brothers Are getting special treatment. I then realized And opened my eyes. They were planning a party for me, Oh what a surprise! All the worrying for no reason, My family is the best. Oh what a waste of time Now time for some rest.

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The Train Slaughter Alexes C., West Side Leadership Academy, Grade 11

During my train ride home, I felt someone staring at me and it felt kind of weird. It was a strange tall man. I was afraid to even glance at him. I got up and sat in the seat behind him… that way I knew he wouldn't look at me and if he did that meant it was time to get my pocket knife out. Suddenly, the train started to shake, then stopped. Boom! The lights went out. Everyone was screaming and yelling, “What’s going on?” There I sat, trapped on this train with strangers and no phone service, just thinking about all the bad things that could possibly happen. Well, at least I had my handy pocket knife that I always keep handy just in case… Thirty minutes went by and the lights finally came on but the train still wasn’t moving. The conductor came to the back to tell us that there was a little trouble with the train and that we should be up and rolling in ten minutes. So I went to the bathroom before we departed. When I returned, the man was not sitting in front of me anymore. I instantly became frightened, then right at that moment, my phone rang. The comforting sound of Grandmama’s voice asking if I was okay was music to my ears. “Yes, but please send Aunt Pam to meet me so I don’t have to walk alone.” Forty minutes later I finally arrived in San Francisco. I called ‘Grandma to find out her where Auntie was and she reassured me that she was in transit. While waiting, I saw that strange man across the street. He had something in his hands… It looked somewhat like a saw with blood on it. I was terrified!!! Luckily, Auntie pulled up right on time. I asked as I got in the car, “Did you see the man across the street?” “What man?” I looked around but didn’t see him anymore. I thought I was insane, thinking it was just my imagination or my eyes playing tricks on me. When we arrived at my Grandma’s house, she was excited to see me. I was thrilled to see her too. Later that night everyone got ready for bed. I couldn’t sleep at all; the only thing I thought about was that man. I started to look at the stars outside the window. All of a sudden, I saw that man walking toward my front door. I screamed and Grandma ran in asking “Are you okay?!!!” “No,” I whispered. “Someone is at the front door.” She opened the door and no one was there. Eventually I went to bed and when I woke up I was in an insane asylum. How and when did I get here? No one knows.

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Picture This Arnetta M., West Side Leadership Academy, Grade 12

It is in the climax of winter. You are walking alone in a forest. Snow is falling from the grayish-blue sky. All around you are tall branch-less dead trees. Down below your boot covered feet is pure white snow. The only thing marking the snow is a set of foot prints creating a single path in front of you. Your curious mind tells you to follow along. Without delay you obey. Walking in the prints, you are feeling excited and anxious. Coming to a complete stop after miles of walking, you realize the once single set of foot prints has split into two separate paths. One set headed right and the other left. This is a baffling sight to you. How could one set of foot-prints split? Instantly you start to rethink your decision. Now it is dark as midnight black. The moon light offers little shine. You have walked too deep into the secluded forest to turn back now. Realizing that, you make a decision. You choose left. As you turn, the smell of blood suddenly fills your nostrils. You grow worried. Something’s not right. You are in the middle of nowhere, racing creepy foot-steps. Now you smell blood. All of the warning signs are there but you choose to ignore them. After about twelve more steps, you see something in the distance. Something tiny is moving about in the dark. This startles you. The tiny object looks to be an animal of some sort. From the distance you can only tell that it is black. Red taints the ground around it. Without thinking you run to the animal. You do not care what it is or if it will harm you. Your only concern at this point is to help stop the bleeding. You approach and you see not one, but two little Chihuahuas. One is black and the other is brown. The black one is on its side crying in a pool of blood. The brown one growls louder and louder as you get closer to the black dog. Nipping at your legs, it pulls at your boots and suddenly, the black dog yelps loudly as its belly tightens. It pushes, and pushes until something astonishing happens. Two tiny black and brown puppies slide from under the mother. This sight amazes you. You cry out tears of joy and help the two new parents get to safety.

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Untitled Nicole S., West Side Leadership Academy, Grade 11

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Unexpected Passion Brian P., Wilbur Cross High School, Grade 11

You can’t find what you

love if you don’t try

something new.

Travel along the tracks of the unknown into a land of endless

opportunities.

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Untitled Katie T., Arts High School, Grade 10

Where are you? I try to see but i cannot Darkness, Darkness is all that surrounds me Where are you? The more steps I take the farther I become I need you i was not born to suffer. "I know!," I scream I know Those are the words I’ve known most of my life, but one human being cannot help feeling. I cannot help feeling tears in my eyes With frustration i kick and punch at nothing I am alone Alone without any help Day by day my heart insists on crippling itself choosing others over me Piece by piece my heart shatters and you will realize there is nothing left of me, and that it’s too late i am screaming Help me, help please How can someone bring so much happiness in your life and take it away within seconds I cannot see Darkness, Darkness is all that surrounds me

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Untitled Anonymous

James Hillhouse High School, Grade 12

“Obstacles are necessary for success because in selling, as in all careers of importance, victory comes only after many struggles and countless defeats.” Og Mandino One day, during the summer of my fourth grade year, I was home alone in our Bronx, New York apartment, and I heard a loud banging on our door. My mom was at work and my sister was at the school camp down the street. As the banging continued, it grew louder and louder. With each step I took closer to the door, the floor boards creaked louder and louder. My hands became very sweaty, my heart was beating so fast it felt as though it would pop out of my chest, and I felt butterflies in my stomach. I unlocked every lock, and when I pulled the creaking door open, there standing in front of me was a tall, pale, green eyed, brown haired, white man with a black bulletproof vest on. Beside him was a short, skinny, brunette, white woman with a gray suit on. The woman was holding a white piece of paper with red wording on it. She spoke but I couldn’t really hear what she said. She then repeated herself, “Is your parent or guardian home?” I said, “No my mom is at work.” I realized then why they were there. It was because a month ago there was an eviction notice on our door. Right away I picked up the phone and called my mother. She picked up and I explained what was going on. In her voice I could hear she was about to cry which made me cry. She told me to give the phone to the woman, so I did. The woman told my mom that they were going to move our stuff out of the house and I could hear my mom begging for them not to. The guy then rushed inside the apartment and started to throw things out. I grabbed the phone and my mom told me to grab some clothes and go get my sister from the camp and that she would come get us from there. We moved from shelter to shelter, we barely had enough food to eat every day, and we could only stay at the shelters at night. We didn’t have anywhere to go during the day, and we didn’t really have any family to go to; it was just the three of us. My mom was just happy that they didn’t take us away from her, and even though we were going through a real struggle, my mom would always tell me things would get better with time. Even though I was young, it was at that point in my life when I knew that being successful when I grew up would determine that my mom, sisters, brother, father and I would never have to go through that kind of struggle again in life.

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That summer day, and the months that followed, were a turning point in my life. Those terrible times made me start thinking about my future, and they made me see that no matter what happens in life, I can overcome any obstacle. My determination as a young girl was the first step in living a successful life. The second step is to get a good education, and that starts with graduating from high school and getting a college degree. I work hard in school, and try my best in every single area of my life to be the best me I can be. Determination, education, and a positive outlook on life is what will help me start a great career after college, and make a life for my family that does not include eviction or homelessness.

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Hispanic Heritage Rachel L., Arts High School, Grade 11

If given the opportunity, a Latino I would like to spend a day with is Frida Kahlo. I want to learn more about her feelings and her motivations for many of her paintings. I want to to learn something new about her that I haven’t learned in books, and talk to someone who is open minded, artistic, and looks at things from a different perspective than most other people. Frida’s way of thought is beautiful because compared to other people, especially girls, she doesn’t find beauty in makeup or buying expensive clothing. She finds beauty in how someone looks naturally, and by their thoughts of everyday things/people. I find that to be inspiring and kind hearted - that you don’t need makeup or fancy clothing to be beautiful. The only thing that’s needed to be beautiful is being yourself inside and out. Another thing that I admire about Frida was that she never needed a person to lift her up from the floor, or put her broken pieces back together. Instead she used painting to help make her emotions follow which made her happy in the end. That’s something she and I have in common. We will paint and paint whatever comes to mind and however we feel that day. Like Frida I also portray pain in some of my artwork, not in a gruesome way but in a way that shows sadness in its most implicit forms. It will be a way for us to both express ourselves with not only through art but with words as well.

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