voices 2003 - city university of new yorkgateway.cuny.edu/.../ewexternalfiles/voices_03.pdfgateway...

gateway voices

VOICESGATEWAY

2 0 0 3

2 gateway voices

Introduction

The Gateway Institute for Pre-College Education oper-

ates high school programs for academically motivated

young people invested in higher education and inter-

ested in the health professions. Gateway Voices is a

journal designed to showcase the creative talents and

unique voices of these students. For this, the second

annual edition of the journal, I was deeply impressed

with the quality, quantity, and diversity of the submis-

sions we received.

Students submitted over one hundred original

works, reflecting the geographic, demographic and

creative diversity of Gateway students. Selecting

pieces for final publication proved exceedingly difficult

and without the invaluable editorial collaboration of

two dedicated Gateway students, Christian Gist and

Allan Robles, this journal would not reflect so clearly

the voices of our students. Space considerations pro-

hibited the selection of many wonderful, interesting

pieces of student writing and art. Please consult our

website (www.gateway.cuny.edu) for an expanded

selection of student work. I want to express my sin-

cere appreciation for all the work submitted by the tal-

ented group of authors and artists in the Gateway pro-

gram, especially the pieces we could not publish in

this edition of the journal.

The vibrancy and diversity of these young authors

and artists is immediately clear. Students explored a

multiplicity of styles and forms in both visual and writ-

ten work. Even amidst the exciting variety displayed in

this body of work, many students reflected on the

enduring themes of relationships, identity, and social

and political realities. Their work reveals serious con-

sideration of themselves and their environments.

Students explored the nuances of romantic, familial,

and peer relationships. They expressed the strength,

confusion, doubt, and discovery of their own identity

with striking insight and relevancy. Students present-

ed serious depictions and poignant commentary on

social realities like racism, poverty, violence, terrorism

and war. Additionally, the varied works presented

here include explorations of topics ranging from beau-

ty to health to fantastical events.

I know you will enjoy reading the writing of Gateway

student authors and looking at the work of the artists.

This journal emerged from a collaborative process and

could not have been possible without the efforts of the

Gateway Central Student Council, Site Coordinators, and

teachers who are gratefully acknowledged at the back of

this publication. I hope this journal continues to serve

as both a forum and catalyst for meaningful writing and

art by these young people.

Jessica Arnold

Farhana Islam, Jamaica High School

Class of 2005

3gateway voices

Table of Contents

IdentityAfisha Bain, Greatness 4

Syllorne Wiseman, Celebrate MyselfFarhana Islam, New Version of You 5

William Dennis, I’ve Got to be MeCorina Alexander, Destiny 6

Stephanie Rivera, UselessCecilia Besley, Confused I Stand 7

Deandra Hinds, ChangingMillicent Bynum, Millicent’s Metamorphosis 9

Christian Gist, The Light 10

Joy Newball, Art Thou Cast DownVeronica Quito, Untitled 11

Jerrod Bishop, Concrete Flower 15

SocietyFunmi Showole, A Lesson Before Dying 17

Bomopregha Julius,

What is the World Coming To? 18

Egomeli Hormeku,

How it Feels to Live and CareShaneka Caesar, The 19

Sean Pickett, SometimesMichael Olushoga, This Moment 20

Nathaniel Ford, SurvivalKimberly St. Louis, Sept. 11 23

Tiffany Richards, An AmericanWarda Zaman, Will I be Heard? 24

RelationshipsJonathan Pride,

The Opposite End of the Spectrum 25

Milredy Joseph, A Lonely Child 27

Michael Nicholson,

I Wish You Were Still Here 27

Benjamin Mendez, GoodbyeJennifer Maria, Loneliness Sinks In 28

Tavia Jackson, Single Mother 29

Jenelle Angelique Nadine Lee, Untitled 30

Aleksandra Nesterova, Don’t Know What You Have Until It’s Gone 34

Other VoicesKevon Marshall, How I Became a Angel 35

Alexia Mascall, Obesity-Linked Fast Food 38

Natalia Fredericks, Intuitional 42

Jamie Matthew, Gateway 45

Kishauna Flowers, Speechless 46

Jacqueline Marquina, The End of a Dream 47

Acknowledgements 48

The following artists contributed work that is

displayed throughout the magazine and on the cover:

Helen Aluleme, Sherman Ali, Gewan Bamasarran,

Stephanie Clebert, Nancy Castillo, Marguerite Einhorn,

Tonya Gorousingh, Yolanda Hernandez, Farhana Islam,

Surpreet Kesar, Martrina Morrison, Jacques Princival,

Harmanmeet Singh, and Tiffany Wilson.

VOICES

GATEWAY

2 0 0 3

4 gateway voices / identity

Afisha Bain

Erasmus Hall High School

Class of 2006

Greatness

When I hear the old man,

Telling stories of great deeds,

Telling of heroes of

Those ancient days,

When I hear that telling,

Then I think within me,

I too am one of these.

When I hear the people

Praising great ones,

Then I too shall be esteemed.

I too, when my time comes,

I shall do mightily.

Syllorne Wiseman

Science Skills Center High School

Class of 2006

Celebrate Myself

I am me

Wise and Wonderful

I am me

Bronze and Brave

I am me

Witty and Willing

I am me and

I will be all that I can be

No mountain too high

No valley too low

Once I am me

And I be me

I am all you will ever see

Nancy Castillo, Queens Gateway Secondary School

Class of 2008

5gateway voices / identity

William Dennis

John F. Kennedy High School

Class of 2005

I’ve got to be me

I suffer much for just being me,

I am in love with being real

So, that is why I pay such an awful fee.

Being frank and honest may never

promote me ahead,

But I possess great peace of mind when

resting upon my bed.

I dislike throwing rocks and hiding in my

hands

Or faking a smile to meet the approval

of men.

Phony folks are so numerous and real

people are so rare

Whenever you act yourself, you get

everybody’s stare.

This dog-eat-dog affair is a game the

whole world plays

While the good morals of our society are

buried under decay.

So go on my brothers, my sisters

And become what the world would have

you to be,

For I have already signed life’s comfort,

I’ve got to be me.

Farhana Islam

Jamaica High School

Class of 2005

New Version of You

New goals, new hopes, new dreams,

New thoughts, new ideas as it seems

New point of view, new understanding, a whole new

different sight,

New clothes, new taste, new style if you might.

New motivations, new taste, new style if you might.

Promptly, new unremitting miseries as it comes,

New strength, new power, new skill,

Ten more seconds to the count of three

Seven, six, five, four, three, two...

One more second before you become a new version of you.

Harmanmeet Singh, Clara Barton High School

Class of 2006


Corina Alexander


Class of 2005

Destiny

I say goodbye to the past

As the moments of today are flying by much too fast,

I’ll remember the things that once were and never again will be.

I’ll try to put behind me the things I’ve seen, but never again will see.

Today is but a moment that will be looked back on as the past.

The future will soon be present.

I’ll live my life only to feel just like I haven’t lived at all.

I’ll live the present with thoughts from the past I recall.

I live in the now,

But still I linger in the past somehow.

I wish there was something I could do to make

Amends with the past and a present all new,

Then that would change the future.

What is destiny anyway?

It seems to be precious moments you can say.

Our lives could be so different if we just

Took time to look at it and see.

Maybe the way it turned out was not the way

It was meant to be.

Stephanie Rivera

Port Richmond High School

Class of 2005

Useless

Everyday, every week

I feel as though I’m not me.

I’m there, skin, blood, and all,

But to everyone else, I’m just a thing.

I’m a fax machine, a printer,

Making copies of papers for people.

I’m a candy machine,

Handing lollipops, and pieces of gum,

With no fee.

I’m an answering machine,

Repeating things over and over for homework help,

Or nonsense.

I’m a thing that constantly gets used,

However, feels abused

By the ones I call friends.

But what happens to a machine or a thing

That refuses to work or maybe is broken?

It gets thrown out, or left in the corner

And collects dust

And eventually becomes useless.Stephanie Clebert, Jamaica High School

Class of 2005


Deandra Hinds

Jamaica High School

Class of 2004

Changing

I am caught in a whirlpool

trying to find my way.

Twirled by the world, I am

trapped in a game.

While I try to refrain from

losing myself, I find that I

am becoming someone else.

Did you ever think “you” through,

and come up lost?

Tossed emotions run through my head as

I lay here in my bed.

I try to stay ahead, but just feel caught instead.

What confusion! I wish I could find a solution.

I’ve lived with myself and no one else,

But I can not find my way.

God knows I have prayed.

Life seems unfair, but wait — I am here!

No need to shed a tear, I have to face my fear.

I am changing, life is rearranging, and

there is no total sustaining.

I am caught up in a whirlpool

trying to find my way.

I found myself, but I am not the

same as yesterday.

I am framing a better me,

and I have finally broken free!!!

Cecilia Besley

Jamaica High School

Class of 2004

Confused I Stand

As I sit here with my radio playing

at a level so disturbing,

I think about the infinite things

but yet I feel so empty.

There’s so much to do

wouldn't you agree?

But then again there’s nothing.

How fun is it to do something

when you don’t know what you’re doing?

The stars above call me every night,

the dirt paths of the ridged earth attract my

most cherished possession,

I think as much as I blink

where as every blink represents another

thought or at least a developing one,

artificial light shines in my face

mere compared to the genuine light that the

burning ball of gas

reveals when so happy

it is cold yet warm

so confused I stand.


Class of 2005

Martrina Morrison, Queens Gateway Secondary School

Class of 2004


Millicent Bynum


Class of 2003

Millicent’s Metamorphosis

When Millicent Bynum woke up one morning

From unsettling dreams,

She found herself changed in her bed

Into a cumulus cloud.

She drifted downstairs

For breakfast

And to greet her immediate family.

As usual, they ignored her presence

So she floated away from home.

And went to a place

Where she thought she would be appreciated:

AT SCHOOL.

Unfortunately, she was only welcomed

By her teachers and her true friends.

Everyone else,

Like pretentious people,

Disregarded her.

Once again she floated away.

Escaping from their negativity,

The winds managed to push her

Into the direction of her close companion.

She thought that he would fully appreciate her.

Fortunately, he cared for her and loved her.

He even understood her.

But he couldn’t appreciate her completely

Because he wasn’t too sure

About himself.

So she decided to keep him close to her heart.

In the meantime, she needed to drift away and

find solace.

Once again, she floated away.

She drifted away to a sanctuary

Full of advice and morals.

Where she learned the value of self-importance

She also learned that others won’t appreciate you

Until you appreciate yourself.

With a new approach to life,

She decided to give her loved ones

A second chance.

Once again, she floated away.

Determined to try again,

She arrived at her house.

Her family was ecstatic to see her.

Later, she learned that

They were devastated by her absence.

They even put up ads looking for her.

She thought to herself,

“You don’t know what you have, until it’s gone”

She was so encouraged by their affection,

That she decided to visit the school once more.

Once again she floated away.

On her way to school,

She passed by a reminder of the sadness and

negativity

That haunted her each day.

Not willing to give up easily,

She continued on her expedition.

She approached the ones

Who claimed to be her friends.

Unfortunately, they didn’t budge,

And continued to think negatively of her.

Showing no signs of stress,

From the pessimistic attitudes she encountered,

She continued to float away.

She managed to come back,

To her close companion.

However, he still didn’t find himself.

And wasn’t able to appreciate her completely.

But she decided to stay with him.

She thought maybe one day

He would have to go through the same process

That she went through.

She laughed at the possibility

That he may even wake up a cloud.

Thankful for her new sense of appreciation

And her big heart,

She no longer needed to feel like a cloud.

The next morning, Millicent Bynum woke up

And found herself changed

Back into a human.


Joy Newball

Queens Gateway Secondary School

Class of 2003

Art Thou Cast Down

“Why art thou cast down, O my soul?”

That’s what I ask my self sometimes.

“Why am I down?” Feeling the endless night isn’t done

Like I have no oil so my light can shine.

Watching others do this to each other is heart breaking

But when you’re the one who is being persecuted

You think of answers on why they do it.

“Maybe it’s because I’m weak,” I say.

“Maybe its because I smile all day.”

“Maybe it’s because if you keep a light glowing with kindness

It disables them and this light grants them blindness.”

So the shades come down and that’s when it starts.

The darts of evil come darting to what matters 2 your

Argh!!! Is the pain that screams

With this arrow pierced in my heart, I wait,

I wait for death that has taken my conscience

My conscience waits for the life to be forgotten

Will anyone care, will they keep me there,

There in their ♥s so I can live on?

“No!!” they say, for there is anger and bitterness.

“No!!” because they are selfish and arrogant.

“No!!” because they could have something else replace it.

“No!!” because they would have a cold and faceless

♥ be in their lives, have coldness in their eyes.

Having no pity on themselves, not caring 4 any 1 else.

So that’s what happens when you’re cast down in your soul.

Don’t let it happen, don’t let it take its toll

Because it has happened to me and now I’m 2 old.

Christian Gist


Class of 2004

The Light

I have been through the tunnel

And I find myself now in the light.

I’ve passed through many struggles

That have shaped the way I am.

Many things have inflicted pain,

Some others inflicted sorrow,

A few have caused distress,

While others destroyed me in total.

But now I see the light,

That beautiful shining light,

That has caressed me with its warmth

And has renewed me inside.

This light has healed my many pains.

This light has healed my wounds.

Its warmth has kept me living,

Its clarity has purified my whole.

I would never leave this light

Because it has brought me great joy.

It has taken everything that bothered me

And happiness, to my life it has brought.

Stephanie Clebert, Jamaica High School

Class of 2005


Veronica Quito

Bayard Rustin High School

for the Humanities

Class of 2005

Untitled

Skateboard. An unfamiliar term to me.

It was my brother’s gift from my par-

ents on Christmas day. He barely used

it; he kept it in his closet. The wheels

were an off-white with dirt here and

there. To him, it was a wooden plank

with wheels and of no use. That

wooden plank would turn out to be a

turning point in my life.

“Clean your room!” my mother

yells for the second time.

“Yeah yeah,” I call out. I was get-

ting sick of being yelled at. It was a

beautiful Saturday morning and

already there was discord.

“You have three seconds!

One…two…if I count to three and

you’re not in your room..!”

“Fine I’ll go now!” I say.

I get up and head towards the back

of the apartment. As light floods into

my room, I see the scattered remains

of an art project. Paint spills, brushes,

and bits of wood and glue all cover

the tiled floor. I pick my way across

the floor, being careful not to slip on anything. As I

lean on a wooden plank to jump across a pile of paint-

ed wood bits, the plank suddenly collapses and sends

me directly into the pile. I lay on the floor, blinking a

mile a minute, trying to figure out how I got from up

there to down here. I slowly raise myself up and notice

that I’m painted from head to toe. I pick up the plank

and, surprise surprise, it wasn’t a plank. It was my

brother’s old skateboard. Frustrated, I throw it under-

neath my bed, already packed with boxes.

“Freaking skateboard,” I mutter.

“What’s going on?” my mother asks, coming into

the mess that was my room.

“What is this thing doing here,” I ask, “isn’t this

Miguel’s?”

“Yes but there is nowhere else to keep it, so it’ll

have to stay here,” my mother responds.

“Might as well make use of it. What do you think

will happen if I do this?” I ask my mother, as I grab

the skateboard and jump on.

Bad move. Not only does the skateboard fly from

under my feet but I also fly from the skateboard and hit

my head on my bedpost. My mother scrambles over.

“Are you all right?” she asks with a worried expres-

sion on her face.

”I’ll be fine,” I mutter, trying my best to remain con-

scious. “That’s the second time I’ve fallen because of

this skateboard,” I comment.

“Well, when you finish cleaning your room you can tell

me how you fell the first time, you hear?” my mother says.


Class of 2005


“I’ll do that,” I say warily.

Once I am done cleaning my room, I pick up the

skateboard and examine it minutely. “Everything

seems to be in place. Nothing is loose, missing or in

any other way wrong,” I say to myself. I put the skate-

board down once more.

“This time I won’t jump on.” I carefully put my right

foot at the front of the skateboard like I had seen pros

do on TV. The skateboard wobbles a bit and then

stops. I then lean on my desk and place my left foot

on it. Right at that instant my mother walks in and

startles me. I fall off and again hit the floor.

“Wait until the summer when you can actually go

outside and learn,” my mother suggests.

“No. It’s now or never. I will learn how to use this

thing,” I respond angrily.

She backs out of my room and I continue trying to

pick myself up.

“All right, you board. I will learn how to use you,

even if I break my head in the process. You will not

succeed in making me afraid of you and continue

using valuable space in my room. Be prepared you old

thing,” I warn the skateboard.

I get up on it and as soon as I do the skateboard

tips side to side.

“You won’t bring me down,” I tell the skateboard.

Well, it did. It brought me down so hard that I

thought I broke my skull. I had hit the corner of my

wooden desk.

“Aaaarrrggghhh!!!! You freaking *@#^!” I call out.

I quickly scramble up and once again I try it out. I

have to admit that I have a very stubborn and per-

sistent character, which is the only reason that I am

continuing to risk breaking my limbs. I fall approxi-

mately fifteen times before dinner and about five

times before I go to bed. To me it seems as if I am

making a bloopers movie because of all the falls.

Unfortunately, I can’t practice again until tomorrow

afternoon because I have Sunday school and then

mass to go to. So I’ll wait until then…

I am here standing next to the skateboard. So far, I

haven’t done anything yet with it. I’m just merely look-

ing at it. All right already. It’s time to get busy.

“Here I go!” I yell.

I quickly get in the mood and jump on the skate-

board, forgetting what happened last time I did that.

“Hey I didn’t fall!” I cry, surprised. “Woohoo!”

The skateboard begins to slowly roll, while I con-

centrate on keeping my balance by locking my knees.

“Don’t do that,” my father says as he steps in my

room, “you’ll hurt your knees.”

Really,” I ask worried, “I will?”

“Yes. It’s too much pressure on your knees and

you’ll probably fall faster than if you bend them a lit-

tle. Here, let me show you.”

He helps me off the board and blows into his

hands, then rubs them.

“OK, here I go. One, two, three!” he hops on, like

I did, and nearly falls.

He somehow manages to balance himself and looks

up at me, smiling.

“Look at my knees. See how they are bent? That’s

how you have to have them in order to keep your bal-

ance,” he says, shaking because it was his first time

on a skateboard.

“Ok, let me try,” I say eagerly, wanting to try this

new method. He hops off just in time before the skate-

board decides to take off.

“Whew, close one,” he says, exasperated. I jump

on, and, keeping my knees bent, begin to roll back

and forth like a mad woman.

“Look at me go!” I yell, a little too loudly.

“That’s good. Now try to go from here to there,” he

says while pointing to the far end of the room where

my mother’s old sewing machine was.

“You think I can make it that far?” I ask, whimpering.

“Don’t worry, you’ll do fine. Now go on.” He gently

puts his hands on my back and pushes me.

Even before I get halfway to the sewing machine the

skateboard begins to wobble side to side and then sud-

denly stops. I fall flat on my face and, somehow, man-

age to hit my head in the process. I can’t believe this

wood thing can cause so much pain, I think to myself.

What I actually say to my father is a different thing.

“Great fall, huh?”

“Yeah honey, but don’t do it again or you’ll be in

pain,’ he says wisely.

I get on again, this time with a different purpose, to

keep my balance on the skateboard without rolling

around. This is going to take a while.

I had spoken to my friend Arlene previously and she

had given me some tips on how to successfully take

control over the board. “Bend your knees a little so

you’ll have better balance. And don’t forget to wear a

helmet. You seem to have the tendency to hit your

head too much,” Arlene had said.


Sherman Ali, Queens Gateway Secondary School

Class of 2004


But of course, I never learn without it happening to

me directly. So I don’t wear protection and I don’t

bend my knees. But I still manage to increase my

speed on the skateboard. Pretty soon I’ll be flying, I

think to myself, smiling.

Since the board obviously seems to have a tenden-

cy to stop suddenly, I suspect it will stop during this

practice hour as well. Everything is going great so far,

so I’ll I try not to jinx it. Too late.

“Aaaahh!” I cry as the skateboard stops and sends

me toward the cold floor. Thud. I gasp from the pain

as I try to sit up.

“I hit my back pretty badly,” I say to my mother,

who had come in to see what all the noise was about.

“Here, let me help you up,” my mother offers, try-

ing her best to balance out the load of laundry she

had in her hands in order to help me up.

“Thank you… oh god, the pain!” I cry as I feel the

hot rush of blood come pounding at my sides.

“You’re not getting on that skateboard ever again

until summertime comes. I don’t want you to break

anything, you hear? You’re my daughter and I don’t

want anything to happen to you.”

My ideas are different, however. I don’t intend to

stop until I have fully gained control over the skate-

board and can walk proudly, saying that I too skate-

board. It is my goal for the present moment. This is

no longer about giving an old skateboard use. It’s

about wanting to see how much I can resist as the

stubborn, persistent, but most importantly, strong-

willed young lady that I am. I want to resist the easy

way in life and the laziness that can consume me

when I’m in the lowest points of my life. I no longer

am that girl who takes everything as it comes and

does nothing for it until the last minute. I am now that

young lady who prepares for what’s coming and does

everything under her power to prevent any unpleasant

situations that come her way. This is who I became

after I learned the technique of skateboarding. Thanks

to my good friend Arlene, who was my verbal skate-

boarding coach, I learned the satisfactory feeling you

get when you are one of the few girls who know how

to skateboard in a certain environment. I am not one

of the preppy girls with nothing on their minds

besides makeup and boys. I am now one of the few

privileged girls who can grab a wooden plank and go

out and have fun. I have made new friends from

Yeshiva University who also skateboard. I hang out

with them on most Fridays and sometimes Saturdays.

The idea is for me to have good, clean fun while

enjoying my youth to the fullest. I thank my parents

for giving me support and lifting me up when I was

down (literally). Most importantly, I won’t feel left out

when Arlene talks about her experiences skateboard-

ing because now I have some of my own. I also thank

that great tomboy friend of mine (Arlene De la Cruz)

who helped me along in her own crazy way. In con-

clusion, I would like to say that I hope you grasped

the meaning behind my essay: that one should never

go to sleep thinking one is a failure; even better, wake

up every day believing you are a success. ■


Class of 2005


Jerrod Bishop


Class of 2005

Concrete Flower

I’m different from the other flowers in

the garden

I’m the flower that nobody wants

All of the other flowers grow from the

rich soil

But

I’m a flower who grew from the con-

crete

Even though my petals are tarnished

and I lean to the side

I’m proud because

No other flower from the concrete has

grown as tall as me

Even though people don’t want a con-

crete flower I think

I’m beautiful.

Tiffany Wilson, Port Richmond High School

Class of 2003

16 gateway voices / society

Martrina Morrison, Queens Gateway Secondary School

Class of 2005

17gateway voices / society

Funmi Showole


Class of 2004

A Lesson Before Dying

Their eyes stare right through me,

My face they do not see.

For I am just a black man,

With no pride or dignity.

They say that I don’t matter,

That my life’s not worth a cent.

And no gods can save me,

My time on earth is spent.

I swear I didn’t do it,

I swear it wasn’t me.

I would lead them to the truth,

But they refuse to see.

They claim I am an animal,

So they’ve locked me in this cage.

They paint me as a monster,

Who cannot control his rage.

They have determined my future,

They have set the date.

It’s now my execution,

That they eagerly await.

They think that they can kill me,

That my life they can take.

They actually think that my heart,

Is possible to break.

Who do they think they are?

Trying to play God?

For my life can be over,

With just one simple nod.

Yes, they can take my body,

But they can never take my soul.

It refuses to be buried,

Into a six-foot hole.

So put these bars around me.

Seat me in that chair.

Do the worst that you can do,

I simply do not care.

You say my life is over?

Oh no, it’s just begun.

Yes, you took this battle,

But the war I have won.

You see, you tried to kill me,

But now you realize,

That a spirit lives forever,

A spirit never dies.

And while I am in Heaven,

Your eternity is Hell.

For by killing me,

You’ve created your own cell.

Marguerite Einhorn, Brooklyn Technical High School

Class of 2003


Egomeli Hormeku


Class of 2005

How it Feels to Live and Care

The first sixteen years of my "life," I stood

And now I stand…

In the same changes of the world that we

thought we could,

To find out we can't.

With the same bad blueprints we use to erase

the past,

Followed by raves and rants,

Will only damage the iron-lunged world more

that we are at last,

Until its last pant.

Why does it seem that the people of old,

So long gone

Have more answers than the people of young,

Still strong

To learn from their mistakes as well as the

others?

Killing another with another melanin is still

killing your brother.

Killing for power will devour our morals

It's so clear.

When did it become politically correct to use

threats by calling it justice to instill fear?

Yeah, there are some questions

But then again

There are some answers and it's up to us to

find.

The only thing that's better than the button

for rewind

Is a blank tape with enough space to change

our minds.

The first sixteen years of my "life" I stood

And now I stand…

In the same changes of the world that we

thought could,

To find out we can …….in one second.

Bomopregha Julius


Class of 2005

What Is The World Coming To?

What is the world coming to?

Is it coming to a complete stop that is inevitable

Or is it just taking a break to make mankind realize

our mistakes

Slowly as we destroy it?

It turns and turns giving us night and day, but what

if one day the night and day never comes?

The atmosphere of the earth is getting too clogged

with human emotions

Especially tensions that will get us nowhere.

It is so easy to resolve the problem with one single

weapon

But is not as easy to just take a step back and

realize what we are doing.

They say we are the future

But for some reason if there is no future, where

does it leave us as the youth of tomorrow?

So I ask you again

What is the world coming to?

Jacques Princival, Science Skills High School

Class of 2005


Shaneka Caesar


Class of 2006

The

The people,

The terror,

The man in the mirror,

The crimes,

The rules,

The times,

The schools,

The youth,

The deaths,

The truth,

The days, weeks, months and years,

The racism,

The tears,

The long walks,

The talks,

The parents,

The kids,

The arguments,

The runaways,

And the strays,

The long days,

And the years,

The sadness,

The one who cares,

The friend,

The violence,

The END.

Sean Pickett

Bayard Rustin High School for the Humanities

Class of 2006

Sometimes

Sometimes I wonder why I was born

How this earth will be when I am gone

In life things don’t always go good

When you’re living in a bad neighborhood.

Where people are shooting, thieves are stealing,

Poor mothers can hardly take care of their children.

Sometimes I dream this will all stop,

People won’t sell drugs and won’t run from the cops.

We will not push and shove

Forget to hate and begin to love,

We’ll stop hanging out on the streets.

And maybe the world will come to peace.

Sometimes I wish we were all friends.

We’d never lose and always win.

We’d all have jobs, make lots of money,

Laugh together when something is funny.

I wish I could visit the moon,

But sometimes, some things don’t always come true.

Surpreet Kesar, Queens Gateway Secondary School

Class of 2004


Nathaniel Ford

Jamaica High School

Class of 2006

Survival

Everyday when I walk down the streets

All I see is tragedy and violence

Police sirens and cops

No sudden single silence

It’s a crazy world out here

Trying to get to the narrow world of survival

But it’s going to be tough,

Like a game against an arch rival

In order to survive

We’re gonna have to do it together

Because war is not a joke

And its after-effect lasts forever

I truly believe that the world can resolve problems

Without taking a life

We can sit at a table and talk

Without guns or knives

War and fighting all the time

It’s not really a resolution

We should take time to ourselves

Just think of a solution

Many younger kids in the world

Don’t understand what’s going on right now

There are a lot of ways we can solve problems

All you have to do is ask yourself how

Many people today are scared

Wishing the threat of war would slowly abort

But it’s not likely

So we need everybody’s support.

Maybe this war will make our nation better

But it’s going to be a rough future, so we need to

stick together.

Michael Olushoga

Adlai E. Stevenson High School

Class of 2004

This Moment

The dreams of life are seen in reality.

Each second, I see hatred brewed in homes,

where children raise hands against parents,

Each minute, I see the desensitization by television,

caused by repeated violence seen in society,

Each hour, I see the rich robbing the poor,

in ways unfathomable.

Each day, I see the exploitation of others,

by those who have lost their sense of compassion.

Each week, I see the destruction of our planet,

by greedy and selfish corporations.

Each month, I see the judgment of character through skin color,

yet, the world is shared by all.

Each year, I see starving children around the world,

yet, billions are spent on warheads creating nuclear death showers,

Each moment: whether it be second, minute, hour, day, week, month, year,

I see the dreams of life in reality.


Orin Cameron


Class of 2005

Heroes

America, the country for red, blue and

white.

Country of peace, liberty and freedom.

Challenged those who reversed the world’s

rotation.

Those who alter the lives of many others.

For years, new souls come into this world

Thinking that invincibility was a trait of

this bond,

Not knowing that this country is as

defenseless as the scum of the sickest

of countries

Opens as a leader, strong and tall

Start to crumble as panic starts to rise.

Two symbols have been abolished from

pure existence

Never to be seen nor duplicated.

Such gruesome creatures would do us so

After all we have done, we have been

stabbed in woeful hearts.

Men rushed to keep spirits alive, not

knowing if they would survive.

Many people tip their hats to their fearless

efforts in such harsh times

Local people become heroes of the world.

A world struggling to keep peace, liberty,

and freedom.

Tiffany wilson, Port richmond High School

Class of 2003



Class of 2003


Tiffany Richards

Lafayette High School

Class of 2006

An American

The land of the free it is called

Back then that wasn’t true at all

Treated with oppression, disrespect and bigotry

Because of some brave African Americans

We can all live in peace and be happy

People being free to do what we want

The people of America we are strong

We are proud to be true Americans

Kimberly St.Louis

Jamaica High School

Class of 2006

Sept 11

It was a day that we’d all remember

It was the eleventh day of September

On that day there was a threat to the U.S.

and we wonder what could have started this mess?

Power is what it’s all about

Power is what they want without a doubt

But how many lives do we have to lose?

What if you had to choose?

1 million, 2 million, 3 million, 4?

Your father, your brother, the one you adore?

These events only lead to pain and hate that are

escalating at a high rate

Going to war won’t make it right

These problems can be resolved without a fight

War will only lead to more misery

Deceased heroes will become a part of history

The truth is that man is his own worst enemy

How could he ever be a friend to me?

If war continues 9/11 will just be the beginning

It’s not all about losing or winning

What’s more important, losing power or lives?

Many of these men leave behind wives.

Martin Luther King preached “free at last, free at last”

That is now a thing of the past.

But when will we be free from war?

When will there be war no more?

Our heroes never forgotten.


Class of 2003


Warda Zaman


Class of 2004

Will I be heard?

I sit here helpless, quiet and breathless

I sit and ponder that which makes me wonder and fills me with anger

I sit and ask myself what is the purpose, what are the consequences?

Is going to war the only solution we have?

Where did all the Nobel Peace Prize winners go and the negotiators

disappear to and the scholars hide?

Where did all the concepts run away in this season of Non-Violence?

Do we think of Gandhi, Dr. King and Mother Teresa's lives only when

we are asked to?

Do we learn about their beliefs to keep them in memory for a few

hours of our lives or do we recall their deeds and appreciate them

without learning anything?

What is the point of learning history when the mistakes are repeated

over and over again?

What thrill does the future hold now as the world is plunged into

discontentment over unjustifiable matters?

What is the explanation for this beside the greediness of mankind and

the display of powerless power, the possession of strength by a

black sheep?

As millions of voices around the world shout out a protest cry

As the voices wish to decide through democracy, their opinions are

shunned...they are ignored.

The so-called freedom of speech is completely abolished and it walks

like a lame man, sees like a blind man and speaks like a mute.

The tyrant has come to power; a dictator is on the rise here in the

guise of a savior

O God! Help us find the ways that will keep us far from going astray.

O God! Give people around me righteousness, give them

consciousness of the surrounding that they have ignored all this

time, and give them reasoning.

After all, these are what separate us from being savage animals, wild

beasts that tear each other apart

After all, we are human beings, we are chosen by Him as superior of

all beings. We have the power to begin a conflict and end it, too.

This is going through everyone's mind at present; this is leading them

to speak up.

Will this all be heard?

This is what I wonder, as I sit here and ponder.


Class of 2005

25gateway voices / relationships

Jonathan Pride


class of 2003

The Opposite End of the Spectrum

I was always the athletic one

Receiver of unlimited fame

While he was always the loner

Silenced by his unspeakable shame.

I was offered special opportunities

He was simply ignored

Forgotten in the darkest of times

Hope, never restored.

I excelled academically through high school

While being elected president of my grade

A prominent figure in the history of the school

My memory, never to fade.

He, on the other hand, was different,

Sat in the rear of the class

Never really popular

Always forgotten and picked last.

I tried to have an optimistic outlook

On the troubles life dished me

He, however, was opposite

Always responding negatively.

During graduation, he signed my yearbook

With an extremely powerful note

The pain and anguish from within his soul

Was displayed on his face as he wrote.

“Dear Mr. President

I hope you enjoy your life.

I pray you’ll never be forced to endure

Unbearable pain or strife.

Your life is already better off

Than most average people you find

You’ll actually be astonished to discover

How far they’re really behind.

If you encounter someone less fortunate

Or maybe someone from your past

Don’t make a mockery of their situation

Or think to yourself and laugh.

You have no idea of life’s difficulties

Only good things you choose to see

Can you even try to imagine

Living your life like me?

Forgotten, forsaken, ignored

Always pushed to the side

Told that I was worthless

Too ashamed to even cry.

So when you rejoice in your glories

Think about those who fight for a crumb

And try to view the entire world

From the opposite end of the spectrum.”

He shook my hand and rose to his feet

Handing me my closed yearbook

And walked away with tears in his eyes

Displaying a helpless look.

To express the thoughts that ran through my

head

No words could ever define

Although he killed himself later that night,

His message was permanently etched in my mind.

26 gateway voices / relationships

Yolanda Hernandez, Queens Gateway Secondary School

Class of 2007


Benjamin Mendez


Class of 2004

Goodbye

With sadness in my eyes

And tears close to coming

I say goodbye

With hatred in my heart

And fear in my hands

With love dying slowly

I say goodbye

With unwanted loads

Of guilt and tragedy

I say goodbye

With me changing

From good to bad

From loving to hating

I say goodbye

With all sympathy

And remorse gone

I say goodbye

With no feeling

But the feeling of hate

And ill-will

I say goodbye

With every dying moment

I wait and

I say goodbye.

Milredy Joseph

Clara Barton High School

Class of 2006

A Lonely Child

Who was that child that sat alone,

Who had no friendship that began,

Who wondered why,

Who couldn’t lie?

Who was that child,

Who was quiet and mild,

Who tried to fit in,

Who they wouldn’t let in?

Who was that child,

Who wished he was fun and wild,

Who wanted to be with the in crew,

But who nobody knew?

Who was that child?

Do you know?

I know I do,

That child was…

If you ever find him,

Please talk to him

Be a friend

And give him a hand.

Michael Nicholson

Jamaica High School

Class of 2006

I Wish You Were Still Here

Two weeks every summer,

I looked toward it all year,

I miss you so much,

I wish you were still here.

I didn’t come last summer,

Now I wish that I were there,

So I could have a little fun with you,

I wish you were still here.

Everyone really misses you,

it’s hard without you here,

But you are in a better place,

But I wish you were still here.

When I left last time you told me be strong and don’t ever cry,

But when I heard what happened I couldn’t hold it back,

You would understand if you were there,

It hurts so much; I wish you were still here.


Jennifer Maria


Class of 2006

Loneliness Sinks In

Loneliness sinks in.

Thoughts of them start to begin,

If only I could turn back time

Then maybe it would spare this heart of mine.

I wish I could have them back.

Then maybe it would heal every crack.

I sit and try not to cry.

But trying is useless so I cry.

Losing two people I care for so much.

Losing them without a touch.

If only I could tell them how I feel

Then they’d understand that my feelings are real.

I wish I could have them here

To help get through my biggest fear:

Being alone with no one to hold,

Being alone facing the cold.

But now I lost them forever

But I won’t stop remembering them, not ever.


Class of 2005

Tavia Jackson


Class of 2005

Single Mother

They were together for a year

She bore him a child and 9 months later he arrives

He left her to raise him all alone

She was unsure of what she was going to do

She looked at her options and made some choices

She chose to do this on her own

Knew she would be wrong to ask her mother for help

23 years old and already a single mother

The workload she had to do

Work and take care of a child

She did everything that her mother had taught her; feed, clothe, and love the baby

One year later she tells her mother of the struggle that she made as a single mother

Mama said baby you done good and I will too

By helping you out with my grandson Drew

He is already one and she is managing, but she hurts because she feels the other’s pain.

Now he is five and wild just like any other child

But he’s been taught right from wrong

And knows how she feels as a single mom

He is getting older doing well in school

Avoids the bad crowd and has been crowned

Single mom’s first child graduates with honors

His dad never came to see him and now wants to

She told him no and said that she is a single mother,

he only has one parent

Her son says let me see him ma

Because I have something to say

“Do you even know what it is like being raised by one parent?

You never cared about me but she did and she raised me

on her own

She is not just a single mother but she represents all mothers

who have taken care of their children without a father

And when she’s older, I will do the same.”


Class of 2005


Jenelle Angelique Nadine Lee

Brooklyn Technical High School

Class of 2003

Untitled

“Strumming my pain with his fingers,

Singin’ my life with his words,

Killing me softly with his song,

Killing me softly,

With his song

Telling my whole life

With his words,

Killing me softly.” ✻

“Oh Lauryn, you sure know how I’m feeling” said

Jacquelyn to herself. She was sitting in her room, eat-

ing ice cream, and drowning her sorrows in some

music. Her door was closed, the blinds were drawn,

and the lights were down low. To Jacquelyn, this was

the worst day of her life. As she thought back on how

it all began, tears began to form in her eyes…

*******************************

It was the first day of school, and excitement was in

the air. Everyone was talking, and smiles were on

every face. The students at Metropolitan High School

were all dressed in their best “school” outfits, fresh

from their summer vacation. As the students migrated

to their prefects, the guys checked out the girls, and

the girls admired the boys. In prefect SC3T, Jacquelyn

was excitedly talking with her two friends Simone and

Jessica. The teacher, Ms. Alchiada, was desperately try-

ing to capture the attention of the students. As the

chatter slowly died down, the classroom door opened,

and in stepped Jason McDowell. He was caramel-

skinned, with beautiful brown eyes, and had a smile

to die for. His outfit was perfectly coordinated, all the

way down to his sneakers. The attention that was pre-

viously focused on the teacher was now focused on

him. All eyes were on him, especially those of the

female students. As Jason found a seat in the class-

room, Jacquelyn whispered to her friends, “Damn, I

would love to meet him.”

(3 Months Later)

The school gymnasium was decorated with paper

snowflakes, and fake snow was everywhere. The music

was blaring, and the room was packed. The air was

stuffy, and was filled with the aroma of perfume,

sweat, and excitement. As Jacquelyn entered the gym-

nasium, she quickly scanned the crowd for Simone

and Jessica. As her eyes grazed the crowd, she sight-

ed Jason McDowell. He was standing with a group of

his friends, and was looking as cute as ever. Their

eyes met, and it seemed as if time stopped. He

winked at her, and then broke their connection by

looking away. As Jacquelyn regained her composure,

she saw her two friends across the room. As she

walked towards them, their eyes were frantically ques-

tioning her, asking, “What was that about?” When she

reached her friends, they bombarded her with ques-

tions like, “Was that Jason talking to you?” “What did

he want with you?”, and “You talk to him now?” To

which she answered with a simple, “He winked at

me.” She told them how their eyes happened to meet,

and as they relished the news, Jacquelyn turned

around to see where the object of her attention was

standing. He was in the same spot, only this time he

was facing her, and was staring deep into her eyes.

Jacquelyn’s breath caught in her throat, and her heart

began doing a techno beat in her chest as he started

to walk towards her. He stopped shortly in front of her

and said, “Can I talk to you for a minute?” She turned

to face her friends, and wanted to scream, but instead

gave a smile, and answered Jason with a cool, “sure.”

As they exited the gymnasium, Jacquelyn caught a

glimpse of Jason’s friends, who were all smiles. The

two talked for a while, and later returned to the

dance. However, instead of returning to their separate

groups of friends, Jason led her to the center of the

crowd on the dance floor. He placed his hands on her

hips, and they began to move. At first it was awkward,

and Jacquelyn was obviously nervous, but after the

first song, they were moving as one.

Jacquelyn and Jason danced together for the rest of

the night, and exchanged phone numbers afterwards.

When Jacquelyn arrived home later that evening, she

was grinning from ear to ear, and was humming the

Fugees remake of “Killing Me Softly.” It was the song

that was playing when she was dancing with Jason, and

was a song that she would never forget. That night,

Jacquelyn slept peacefully, and with a smile on her face.

Over the next few months, Jacquelyn and Jason spent

more time with each other. After school, they hung out

together, and traveled home with each other. Although


their relationship wasn’t official, the two of them were

known as a couple. However, as is common in many

high schools, there was a group of girls who loved to

hate. At Metropolitan High, this specific group included

three girls by the names of Trisha, Shauna, and

Alexandra. They were pretty, and always wore the most

expensive outfits. If there was any new style, they had

it weeks before it came out in the stores. They always

got all the guys but were never satisfied. This was espe-

cially true of the ringleader Trisha, who had her eyes on

Jason. Ever since the winter dance, Trisha did not like

Jacquelyn. She always gave her the evilest of looks, and

said anything and everything untrue about her. Although

Jacquelyn was the passive type, and never let Trisha

bother her, she was always aware of her and her crew.

One day, after leaving Jason, Jacquelyn went over to

join her friends. When she was near them Simone said,

“Ooh Jackie, Trisha is grillin’ you.” She turned around

to find Trisha giving her one of her evil looks. Trisha

then shouted, “What?” To which Jacquelyn responded

by saying, “I just wanted to know why you’re all up in

my face.” Simone and Jessica laughed in the back-

ground, and couldn’t help but say, “Yeah, back up

Trisha, let her breathe!” Jacquelyn then said, “I don’t

see a sign inviting Ms. Trisha into our conversation.”

“Excuse me?” asked Trisha, stepping forward.

“You heard me,” replied Jacquelyn, also stepping

forward.

“I think you better watch your mouth. I don’t know

who you think you are since you’re always hanging

around Jason.”

“Sweetie, don’t be jealous because you mean noth-

ing to him.”

“Like you do? You don’t even know that he’s play-

ing you right in your face,” to which Alexandra said, “I

know that’s right.”

“Whatever, y’all are full of it.”

“Oh really? Why don’t you go ask Jason, Jackie,”

said Trisha.

“Why don’t you shut your mouth, and stop talking

trash,” answered Jessica.

“Oh don’t worry, I’ll just let Jackie find out on her own.”

“Whatever.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

With that, both groups turned and walked away,

Trisha with a smirk on her face, and Jacquelyn with a

scowl on hers. On her way home, Jacquelyn couldn’t

help but think about Trisha’s words.

“You don’t think she’s right do you?” she asked her

friends.

“You know Trisha’s just jealous.”

“Yeah, she’s hatin’,” said Simone.

“I know, but Alexandra does go out with Jason’s

friend…”

“Who, Andre?” asked Simone.

“Well, why don’t you find out then?” asked Jessica.

“Yeah, go ask Jason what’s up,” agreed Simone.

That night, Jacquelyn couldn’t concentrate on her

homework, and finally decided to call Jason. She let

the conversation warm up before asking him about

what had been on her mind all day.

“Jason?”

“Yeah?”

“I heard something about you that I wanted to

know about.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, I heard that you were playing me.”

There was slight pause.

“Playing you? Who said that?”

“Does it really matter? Is it true or not?”

“Umm, listen Jackie, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.”

“But Jason…”

Before Jacquelyn could even finish her sentence,

Jason hung up. However, instead of getting mad, she

Marguerite Einhorn, Brooklyn Technical High

School Class of 2003


was struck by a feeling of dread. She immediately

called Simone and said, “Something is going on…”

***************************

About a week had passed since Jacquelyn confront-

ed Jason, and she still hadn’t received an answer. She

tried to ignore it, and tried to keep it out of her

thoughts. It almost worked…

One day after school, Jacquelyn was waiting for

Simone and Jessica at the front entrance. Simone had

just joined her, and the two were waiting for Jessica

when they spotted her rushing towards them.

“Jacquelyn, I have to tell you something now.”

“What is it?”

“It’s about Jason, and I don’t think you’re gonna like

it very much.”

“You better tell me right now…”

“Well, I was just talking to Jason and his cute friend

Trey…”

“And?”

“And we were just having a normal conversation

when Andre came up to Trey and said, “Son, lemme find

out you’re messing with this girl, just like “J” is mess-

ing with Jackie.” Then he turns to Jason and says, “I

didn’t think you’d last this long with Jackie, man. I fig-

ured this bet would only go on for about a week or so.

You’re sucking my money dry!” I mean, he completely

forgot that I was standing right there”, said Jessica.

“A bet?” Asked Jacquelyn.

“That’s what it seems like”, said her friend.

“What did Jason say?”

“He told Trey to shut up, then told me he’d talk to

me later.”

“So that night at the dance…he did it all as a bet?”

asked Jacquelyn, obviously hurt.

“That bastard,” said Simone. “Who does he think

he is?”

“Jackie, you better go handle this right now.”

“I know, I know. I’m going.”

The trio headed towards where Jessica had seen

Jason and his friends. He saw them coming and tried

to prepare for what was imminent.

“Jason, I gotta talk to you,” said Jacquelyn.

“Yeah, I figured you would.”

“Go handle your business man,” said Trey.

Jacquelyn turned and glared at him, and he imme-

diately backed off. The two moved away from the

group and Jacquelyn asked,

“Have you been going out with me, pretending to

like me because of a bet?”

“At first, yeah.”

“AT FIRST???”

“At the dance…”

“Forget it. It’s OVER.”

“But you didn’t even listen to me.”

“Why should I? You lied to me.”

“Jackie, c’mon.”

“NO, it’s over. Have fun with your damn money.”

She then walked away with Simone and Jessica

behind her. They asked her if she was all right, and

she nodded quickly. However, as soon as they were

out of Jason’s sight, Jacquelyn burst into tears. Her

shoulders heaved, and her sobs were loud and hard.

She was deeply hurt, and her friends couldn’t even

think of what to say that would comfort her. They

walked her home, and promised to call her later that

night. Once inside her house, Jacquelyn exhaled a long

sigh, and treated herself to some ice cream.

*************************

“Strumming my pain with his fingers,

Singin’ my life with his words,

Killing me softly with his song,

Killing me softly,

With his song

Telling my whole life

With his words,

Killing me softly.”

“Oh Lauryn, you sure know how I’m feeling” said

Jacquelyn to herself. She was sitting in her room, eating

ice cream, and drowning her sorrows in some music. Her

door was closed, the blinds were drawn, and the lights

were down low. To Jacquelyn, this was the worst day of

her life. She closed her eyes, and tried to erase the day’s

happenings. As she thought back on how it all began,

tears began to form, and slowly fell from her eyes. Her

head began to pound, and she tried to fall asleep.

Suddenly, the phone rang. Slowly, Jacquelyn rolled over

and answered the phone with a weak “hello.”

“Hi Jackie.”

Her heart almost stopped.

“Jackie, this is Jason.”

Acting on an impulse, Jacquelyn hung up the

phone. She rolled back over, asking herself, “Why is


that fool calling me?” Although she was angry, she

was half hoping that he would call back. The phone

then rang again. With trembling hands, she picked up

and listened.

“Jackie, I deserved that but I really think you should

hear me out.”

“I’m listening,” she answered.

“At the dance, I saw you come in and I purposely

made eye contact with you. I thought you were cute,

and wanted to let you know that. Then Trey said, “I

bet you wouldn’t go up and dance with her.” So since

I already wanted to dance with you I had no problems

taking him up on that. I really had fun dancing with

you, but he wouldn’t believe me. When we started

hanging out together, he was convinced that I was still

doing it because he dared me to. There really was no

bet, and I really do like you. Please forgive me…I real-

ly care about you.”

Jacquelyn was touched beyond control. But she still

wasn’t sure if she should believe Jason. Sensing this,

he said,

“If it helps, I had this big argument with Trey over you.

Trey is a good friend, but I really do care about you.”

Unable to withstand it any longer, Jacquelyn said, “I

believe you, and I care about you too. It made me so

mad when I found out about it, especially since I

found out from Trisha.”

“I know, and I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, but you better not try anything like that

again.”

“I promise I won’t.”

“Good” , she said smiling.

“Jackie?”

“Yeah?”

“Look out your window.”

She did, and there was Jason McDowell, caramel-

skinned, with beautiful brown eyes, and the smile to

die for. As she opened her window she thought,

“Maybe today wasn’t so bad after all.” ■

Supreet Kesar, Queens Gateway Secondary School

Class of 2005

✻ KILLING ME SOFTLY WITH HIS SONG, Charles Fox, Norman Gimbel, Rodali Music (BMI),

(Administered by Sony/ATV Songs LLC) Fox-Gimbel Productions, Inc. (BMI)

Copyright 1973 Rodali Music and Fox-Gimbel Productions, Inc. All rights on behalf of Rodali

Music administered by Sony/ATV Music Publishing, 8 Music Square West, Nashville, TN 37203.

All rights reserved. Used by permission.


Aleksandra Nesterova


Class of 2005

Don’t know what you have until it’s gone

Suddenly you love me. Suddenly you care.

Suddenly you miss me and how it used to be.

Now there’s a new guy standing here with me.

Now you feel how I had felt when you had turned away.

Now you feel the pain that I had lived with day by day.

You need to get over it. Need to forget.

You need to believe it I’m only a friend.

You had your chance. You threw it away.

Now you’re the one alone at the end of the day.

You’re regretting every moment.

All the mean things that you said,

And regret what you have done.

You should have known

You never know what you have until it’s gone.


Class of 2005

35gateway voices / other voices

Kevon Marshall


Class of 2006

How I Became an Angel

Not long ago, I was a regular fifteen-year old child help-

ing my mother tend the garden. I remember laughing and

joking with my friends while we walked and talked

together, however all of those things and more were

stripped from me when I gave my essence to the heav-

ens and became a being for love and prosperity.

It happened on a cold winter day on the 15th of

December. I was sick all that week from the flu and

stayed in bed most of the time. My mother and father

were beginning to worry for my health due to the fact

that I was exhibiting strange symptoms, or so the doc-

tors said. I was also afraid of dying. It’s actually the

only thing that I am afraid of. I often lay awake at

night wondering what would come after death and

how I would take it.

“Marie,” my father called from down the hall of our

old house. “Do you want me to bring your dinner or

would you like to come downstairs and eat with your

Aunt Victoria and us?”

“I’ll come down in a minute father,” I replied.

I managed to get off the bed and down the stairs

safely. When I saw everyone sitting together at the table

laughing and drinking, I began to feel unwanted.

“I’m sorry I did not come say hello my dear,” aunt

Victoria began.

“It’s fine Auntie,” I said, cutting off her sentence.

We sat and ate for hours. My aunt, who had come

to visit for the night had regaled us with stories upon

stories of her travels through India and many artifacts

she discovered on her trips.

“That reminds me,” my aunt said, after her last

story. “I brought you something Marie.”

“Whoa,” I said in complete awe as my aunt hand-

ed me the most beautiful bracelet I had ever set my

eyes upon.

“I bought it off an old man at a marketplace in New

Delhi.”

“It is beautiful, Auntie.”

“That must have cost you a fortune, Victoria,” my

mother chimed in.

“Oh, you’d be surprised, Annie, it was quite afford-

able.”

After my aunt left late that night, I was still speech-

less from the glimmering silver bracelet. It was stun-

ning, and almost took my mind off my illness.

That night, I had a dream that both frightened and

confused me. I dreamt of an entity that appeared in

the form of an extremely beautiful young woman.

“We need you,” she whispered to me. “We need

you, come, come to us.”

I awoke the next morning with my hand seemingly

stuck to my bracelet. Still feeling confused about my

dream, I stayed in bed staring at the bracelet that I

believed gave me that strange dream, however, the

effects of the mysterious flu were back in full effect.

I was too tired to do much so I only tried to draw

what I saw while looking out the window. Suddenly, I

noticed the picture of the bird I was sketching began

to transform into the face of the same woman I saw

in my dreams.

“You must come,” she began to say, “we need you

now.”

I screamed out at the top of my lungs and my par-

ents ran into the room at the speed of light.

“What’s wrong Marie?” my parents said together.

Mariangely Segarra, Stevenson High School

Class of 2005

36 gateway voices / other voices

I turned back to the paper and noticed that the

image had returned to its original form.

All that day I tried to explain what had happened to

my parents, who had not believed nor understood a

word I said.

Now this may seem hard to believe, however, right

in the middle of my fourth explanation, I began to feel

a sudden jerk in my spine and saw an entire world of

swirling lights as I felt my feet leave the ground. Soon,

I found myself in a room so bright that it almost gave

me a hot flash.

“My name is Cesilima,” the woman said as she

slowly came into focus.

“What do you want from me?” I asked.

“You are the divine one. We have waited for you to

return to us for a millennium. I know you are feeling

confused at the moment, however that will pass in

time. I will explain beginning with your past life. Long

ago you were an archangel whose power was feared

by demons throughout the universe. You were known

as Maria, the Angel of Silence. Unfortunately, you

were locked away in this human for several lifetimes

by a demon whose evil flared after you were

restrained. My disciples and I, however, discovered

the body you currently reside in and were forced to

intervene by planting that bracelet right in your lap,

for it is the one relic from your past that can fully

return your memory to you.”

I stood there for minutes closely listening to the

frightening news. I was left in utter disbelief, possibly

even denial.

“This can’t be true… my parents… my family…”

“They were all implanted into your memory. You are

a divine entity.”

“No, I don’t believe it!”

“Possibly, if I activate the counter magic of your

bracelet your mind will be able to process such over-

whelming information.”

The woman came towards my crying slump of a

body and began to chant in a foreign language never

heard before. My mind began to warp and soon I was

no longer Marie, I was Maria.

That’s more or less how things went, how I became

an almighty archangel, fighting against the under-

world. No family, no friends, just power and the never

ending battle between heaven and hell. ■

Harmanmeet Singh, Clara Barton High School

Class of 2006


Rodley Moise, Clara Barton High School

Class of 2006


Alexia Mascall

Science Skills High School

Class of 2006

Obesity-Linked Fast Food

Two words bring about

Excess cholesterol and high prices.

Two words bring about

Food high in calories and spices.

It is FAST FOOD.

We eat so much,

And continue to consume.

Unaware that the more we eat,

The more we bring on our doom.

The salt, the fat, the grease.

How tasty it is, and do we cease?

No.

We eat a Big Mac,

And catch a heart attack.

We eat Dollar Fries,

And do not exercise.

We eat Pork Fried Rice,

Until our bodies lyse.

We go out to places like

Mickey D’s and Wendy’s.

Instead of going to Fine Fare and A&P,

You buy 12 burgers from White Castle

And eat it in 10 minutes without any hassle.

We’ll eat fast food until we cannot breathe,

Not knowing that Obesity is considered a disease.

So before you pick up a burger,

Or even a French fry.

Take a look around, and you’ll see the things you should realize.

Fast food is unhealthy,

And can harm you down the road.

So take the road less traveled,

And that could ease your load.

Fast food can make you fat,

And it sure can make you sick.

So before you take the last bite,

Remember, stop and think, then drop that greasy food quick!



Class of 2005


Amy Lau, Clara Barton High School

Class of 2006


Natalia Fredericks


Class of 2006

Intuitional

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! Sounded off that annoying alarm

clock. I hit the snooze button with irritation, got out

of bed and prepared myself for the day. I was over at

my Uncle and Aunt Sermon’s for a while. I’ve never

seen them prior to now; I only conversed with them

on the phone.

“Good morning.” My 17 and a half year-old cousin,

Keisha, greeted me in her usual I-wish-I-really-weren’t-

here-right-now voice. I was visiting my relatives for the

spring break because my parents were off on a private

cruise. At first they wanted me to join them. I was real-

ly exhilarated by this, but something in my mind

stopped me. It was like one of those intuitions that

tell you that you have to do something that was more

important than what you really wanted to do. So I told

my parents that I would rather stay over at my aunt’s

and uncle’s, because I had a fear of riding in cruise

boats. A little white lie wouldn’t hurt anyone, but up

to now I was still wondering what was on my mind

and why it didn’t want me to leave my relatives. I left

my room and went down the stairs to the kitchen to

meet my cousin.

Despite the fact that her favorite relative was visiting

her, she still seemed tired, haggard, and distressed. I

tried to ask her what was going on, except for the baby

boy that was developing in her stomach and she would

always reluctantly answer me, “Nothing.” This usually

enraged me, but today I was going to make a change.

Today, I was going to go through my well-planned out

schedule, one that included no questions asked to my

dear cousin. I wasn’t going to stress myself out during

this vacation.

My little cousin, Alicia, had just woken up and charged

down the stairs with a huge Cheshire cattish grin on her

face. Seeing her always enlight-

ened my cousin’s appearance. I

didn’t know what was wrong

with me though. “Breakfast is

served!” little Alicia sung as she

jumped onto my older cousin.

They exchanged hugs and kiss-

es; I just wanted to see my

food in front of me so I could

get on with my vacation. After

breakfast, Alicia and I washed

our dishes and were set to go

upstairs, but Keisha just stayed

in the kitchen with her sullied

plate in front of her. Reading a

red and black book titled,

“PUSH”. She seemed to have

been studying that book as if it

were for a Regents test or SAT

exam. She spent most of her

time reading that novel; in fact,

this was the sixth time she has

been reading it. One of these

days, I’m going to slip away

with that book and read it to

see what was inside that made

it so special.


Class of 2005


Alicia and I stayed in the room watching

television, reading stories, and playing PS2

until 5:00. Little Alicia had been looking

quite dismayed after 4:30. “My daddy will be

coming home from work soon,” she said.

Uncle Sermon was an amiable and gentle

man, well, he sounded like one when he

spoke to me on the phone. We got along

very well, and I had no trouble with him. If

he was a good man, why was Alicia looking

so scared? Why did Keisha leave the house

without telling us “good-bye”. Was this the

reason of my intuitions, and was I about to

figure out something that will eat at me for

the rest of my life?

The front door drew open, and Uncle

Sermon entered with a grin. He handed me a

small shopping list and asked me if I could

do him the favor by running to the store to

pick up a few groceries. I did the favor, but

before I left I saw Alicia frowning at me from

the stairs. I was having trouble finding that

one item on the list while I was shopping. It

seemed as if that item didn’t exist in the

world. Then a thought occurred in my head;

perhaps Uncle Sermon was keeping me out of

the house so I wouldn’t know what was hap-

pening. That was why Alicia was so dis-

tressed, that’s why Keisha left so early. I

dropped the groceries, ran through the auto-

matic doors, raced down the street, pushed

down a couple of irate pedestrians, and ran

up to my relatives home. I peered through the win-

dow; no one was there, at least not in the living room.

They must’ve been upstairs. I didn’t have the key to

the front door, but I did have a lock-pick. I fished a

bobbie-pin out of my hair and opened the door to

pandemonium.

Entering the house seemed like entering a nightmare.

Clothes and other paraphernalia were strewn all over

the floor. I heard a faint whimpering upstairs in my

cousin’s bedroom. As I climbed up the stairs, the front

door closed shut. Uncle Sermon must’ve been in the

house the whole time. I hesitantly opened the door to

my little cousin’s bedroom and found no one, however

the whimpering grew louder. Alicia was hiding herself

behind the bed the whole time.

“Alicia?”

“She came back too early,” she said.

“What happened here? Where did your father go?”

“……………………..”

“Or more importantly, what did he do?”

It just so happened that Keisha returned a little

after Uncle Sermon came. She came back because she

had forgotten the “PUSH” novel. Alicia said that

Sermon had forbidden Keisha from reading that book

because it would’ve warped her mind; and hell

would’ve been unleashed if he had found the book in

the house. So to avoid any trouble, she came back to

pick up the book; but she hadn’t expected her father

to be home. Uncle Sermon had found Keisha to be a

very attractive woman, and despite the fact that they


Class of 2005

44

were flesh and blood, he took advantage of her. It had

shocked me when my little cousin informed me that

Keisha’s child was also the child of her father. It was

hard for me to believe that my aunt never knew any

of this, but Alicia had told me that Uncle Sermon

threatened to do something bad to her if she told

Aunt Sermon about the affair. It just so seemed that

relatives could be a person’s worst enemy.

I couldn’t let this continue, I had to do something.

If there was someone who I had to tell about this

atrocity, it would be my aunt. She usually arrives

home from BINGO at 6’ o’clock, which was five min-

utes from now. Enough time for me to think of a way

to report to her the events. I divulged the secret to

Aunt Sermon when she came home. She was aghast

to hear the horrible truth, in fact, she went mad! She

was spitting, growling, and frothing at the mouth.

Quickly she went into her linen closet to pull out a

gun that she secretly hid inside for her hunting game.

I stopped her.

“Pull that trigger, and not only will you kill your hus-

band, but your daughters too.”

I was relieved to see that she gave in to my per-

suasions that violence is never the answer. So, she

picked up the phone and dialed 911.

When Uncle Sermon came back, he didn’t except to

see a whole crowd of police at the front of the

house. The officers booked him; no longer he could

terrorize my cousins. I felt so proud of myself, I had

saved both cousin’s lives and self-esteem, and I fol-

lowed my intuitions.

MORAL: FOLLOW YOUR INTUITIONS ■


Class of 2005gateway voices / other voices


Jaime Matthew


Class of 2006

Gateway

Open the organ of vision

Grasp the strong light

Penetrate into the entrance of ample opportunities,

And new learning

The road to your future

Success in hands and brain

This is Gateway

To a positive, higher education

Angela Padilla, John F. Kennedy High School

Class of 2003


Kishauna Flowers


Class of 2006

Speechless

I sit here in the morning watching, waiting

I finally see what I want

It rises slowly making gold-orange streaks across the sky

I rise and try to touch the rays of colors but fail

I don’t get mad but I sit and watch the trees stretching and the mist rising

I walk around touching flowers, eating fruits and smelling the wonderful aroma until night

I then sit back down and watch the streaks disappear

And see the stars surface as the sky darkens

I look at the stars in a daze as if never wanting to look away

The stars give me comfort; the flower’s aroma dares me to sleep

I finally give in and rest on the inviting bed of grass

I don’t say good night because they already know, they encourage me to be speechless.


Class of 2005


Jacqueline Marquina


Class of 2004

The End Of A Dream

When you are sleeping, what hap-

pens at the end of your dream? You

finally wake up. Many times you want

your dream to end soon. At other times

you wish you could see the end. To

me, life is like some kind of dream and

in the end I am finally waking up.

Sometimes a dream can last as long

as a caterpillar. Other times it can last

as long as a trip around the universe. I

don’t want my dream to be like a pic-

ture book or like an encyclopedia but

more like a novel. Not like a movie nor

a documentary. Not like a walk to the

corner store or to school, but like a

trip around the world.

This dream will be a real, full-length

adventure in finding myself and when I

have finally accomplished this, only

then I would like to wake up. That is

the time of my dying.


Class of 2005

48 gateway voices

Editorial Staff

Editor: Jessica Arnold

Associate Editors: Christian Gist, Allan Robles,

Elisabeth Iler, Patty Rout

Editorial Assistants: Jordana James, Yarledis Salcedo

Designer: Hannah Alderfer, HHA Design

Acknowledgements:

Thank you to the Gateway coordinators, faculty, and

students who collaborated on this issue:

Adlai E. Stevenson High School (Bronx):

Michelle Kanner, Coordinator


(Manhattan):

Adrienne Rubin, Coordinator

Lutrell R. Nickelson, Coordinator

Brooklyn Technical High School (Brooklyn):

Giancarlo Malchiodi, Coordinator

Scott Mathews, Coordinator

Clara Barton High School (Brooklyn):

Carmen Daniels, Coordinator

Erasmus Hall High School for Science & Math

(Brooklyn):

Keturah Nubyahn, Coordinator

Jamaica High School (Queens):

Kathy Kalansky, Coordinator

John F. Kennedy High School (Bronx):

Melanie Papkov, Coordinator

Lafayette High School (Brooklyn):

Linda Rubino, Coordinator

Port Richmond High School (Staten Island):

David Salomon, Coordinator

Queens Gateway to Health Sciences Secondary

School (Queens):

John Madera, T.A.S.C. Site Director

Camilo Rojas, Art Teacher

Science Skills Center High School (Brooklyn):

Michele Williams, Coordinator

Gateway Central Student Council:

Edwing Medina, Advisor

Carolyn Almonte (Stevenson), Yerlina Almonte

(Jamaica), Kaurang Amin (Kennedy), Nicholas Calder

(Science Skills) Luz Ceballos (Humanities), Nanette

Cedeño (Stevenson), Christian Gist (Erasmus),

Deandra Hinds (Jamaica), Jereen Hossain (Clara

Barton), Tavia Jackson (Erasmus), Bomopregha Julius

(Science Skills), Amy Lau (Clara Barton), Rodely

Moise (Clara Barton), Sharona Moore (Kennedy),

Allan Pang (Humanities), Amelia Prasad (Kennedy),

Osei Rhone (Jamaica), Allan Robles (Science Skills),

Grant Reid (Humanities), Nadim Shaun (Stevenson).

For more information

about the

Gateway Institute, please

consult the Gateway

website:

www.gateway.cuny.edu

To contact us, email

[email protected] or

call

(212) 650-6088.

Helen Aluleme, Clara Barton High School

Class of 2005

voices 2003 - city university of new yorkgateway.cuny.edu/.../ewexternalfiles/voices_03.pdfgateway...

Documents