Lit Mag by RHS ARROW

in run-on sentence. I believe in Bob Ross. I believe in the magical school bus. I believe we are not meant to be alone. I believe coffee makes you shrink. I believe in OMG. I believe my grandma makes the best fried chicken. I believe the best eggs with rice are right at home. I believe in All You Can Eat. Most of the time, I believe OJ didn’t do it. I believe my room is junky, so much junky it needs to be cleaned. I believe I can race any car in the school parking lot and win. I believe true love is fake – but Jaws is real. I believe monsters are not real. I believe no other is better than another. I believe good people die young so their friends can attend their funerals. I believe not that the glass is half empty, nor half full, but that there is something in the glass. I believe the Slip n’ Slide is the greatest invention of our time. I believe Emo is the way to go. I believe we don’t know the truth about our history. I believe Dunks are the universal shoe. I believe the best yogurt is Tutti Fruity at Westfield Shopping Center. I believe cutting myself feels good. I believe I can shape my future. I believe the best way to plan is not to make any plan at all. I believe the sky is black. I believe extreme wealth turns you into a snob. I believe a million little marshmallows in hot chocolate are way better than a few big ones. I believe in Power Rangers and Ninja Turtles. I believe ninjas eat the cookies you set out for Santa. I believe in Dynasty Warriors and Captain America. I believe there’s no such thing as the boogie man. I believe hard work beats talent when talent doesn’t work hard. I believe hate is a synonym for love because if you did not care about people you could not hate them. I believe in mountain lions. I believe bags of chips should be opened from the bottom. I believe animals gossip. I believe in my fat thumbs. I believe I will be

Tim Still art

Notes Apologies &

NOTES: This gift is for you. We’re not sure what it is. It has a lot of photography and creative writing in it, so it’s kind of a literary magazine. But it’s also a special edition of ARROW, the newspaper you read each month. Only ARROW isn’t really a newspaper. It’s a newsmagazine. Anyway. Enjoy the gift. We worked hard to make it for you. APOLOGIES: I’m sorry your boyfriend is in love with us. I’m sorry we got into the middle of your bromance. We wanted to go to prom with you, but you’re not our type. I’m sorry your braces make you look like a robot. I’m sorry you had to sit on the plane for 16 hours. NOTES: Most of the pieces here were composed by juniors at Renton High School, compiled and collected during first semester, 2009-2010. Some of the pieces are included here in their entirety, and some of the pieces are excerpted. We hope you enjoy the diversity of responses. APOLOGIES: I’m sorry that your shoes don’t fit anymore, that your fly is unzipped, that your socks have holes in them. I’m sorry we never wore the shirt you got us for Christmas. I’m sorry I love you more than the food on thisiswhyyourefat.com I’m sorry we sneak food into the movie theater and think we’re bad because we almost got caught. I’m sorry you got too fat for your prom dress. I’m sorry I tripped you in kindergarten and we’re still friends. I’m sorry Vy fails at catching not-cute things, while wearing a bomber hat. NOTES: This once-in-this-moment issue of Arrow is printed quarterly by Pacific Publishing Company in Seattle, Washington. Word processing, graphics and layouts are created on Microsoft Office 2007 and Adobe Creative Suite 3 programs. ARROW has a publication of 2000 papers/copies, etc. Over the course of 4 days, a group of darling banquet crashers who have developed a peculiar engouement of one another, produced this package of papers in your hand. Before this, the only commonality between them was that they all attended Renton High School, located at 400 S. 2nd St., Renton, WA, 98057 - contactable at 206.579.6398. APOLOGIES: I’m sorry I threw a crayon at your face when you were trying to instruct the class and I was really aiming for a gangster. I’m sorry the zipper on your backpack broke and all your papers fell on the ground. I’m sorry you don’t get any more hugs from him. I’m sorry the ice cream fell all over your pants. I’m sorry I spilled coffee on your carpet and let it sit for 24 hours. I’m sorry we went to a buffet and I got in for 50 cents as a “two-year old.” NOTES: We like to take part in great Schadenfreude when one of our own falls out of his chair and it’s only because our brains are close to the point of fried.

The We-Made-This...

APOLOGIES: I’m sorry there is no new episode tonight. I’m sorry my personal moon disappeared without a notice or a real phone call. I’m sorry I need to stop now and go home.

Ian Coston........................................................................................................................................................Punctuation Jimmy Phillips III..........................................................................................................................................Opinion Karen Huang..................................................................................................................................................Sarcasm Loan Huynh....................................................................................................................................................Details Marco Gastelum..........................................................................................................................................Inuendo Mr. Smith..........................................................................................................................................................Polysyndeton Onna Giddens..............................................................................................................................................Analogy

...Our Favorite Writing Element

Princess Gaoaen..........................................................................................................................................Imagery Shayna Tidwell..............................................................................................................................................Simile Timmy Still.......................................................................................................................................................Simple Sentence Tu anh Dinh....................................................................................................................................................Sparkly Comma Vivian Hoang..................................................................................................................................................Anecdote Vy Huynh...........................................................................................................................................................Serendipity Endings

03 11 09 ARROW 234

I REMEMBER WHEN I WAS FOUR YEARS OLD, I ALWAYS DREAMED TO BE AN ARTIST, DANCER AND SINGER. [KARENN VALAZQUEZ]

I, myself, am a pillar.

And one pillar can’t hold a building alone. You need friends to be there for you and help you live your life, or you will have a hard time holding up that building when an earthquake comes. Getting out of under that rubble isn’t something you want to experience.

I like to know things. I am like the weather. I am also like a tree. Not to spoil, not to tease, but just to know. In that sense, I am like a thief with a lock pick. Of course a thief only steals if he can’t get what he wants the easy way. If not given information, I love to gain knowledge on my own, knowledge locked behind the lips of other people.

Weather is now pretty predictable with the technology we have today. My friends can usually anticipate my moods or actions, my habits. Yet sometimes, the weather man was just totally wrong, and you put your beach gear in the garage as you wish the rain away.

A big tree with many different extensions. Every tree starts out a little sprout, and as they grow, larger branches extend, and branches extend from those branches. New ideas come to life, and one reflects and thinks about all these different ideas, on every single branch. Of course, some memories lose their greenish color and fall off and become separated from the others, completely forgotten. [STEVEN LE]

Honesty

You and I both know I carry secrets I don’t know why I act like this childish that are my sins. I’m sixteen and kid craving fun, yet I care deeply about the three times as big as when I was image I portray to the world and friends. This is six years old. I’ve hated and have my problem: I feel like I am ashamed of myself held grudges, I rebelled against and my personality... I would think of something Ma and dad and have been to say about a topic, but I would process exactly dishonest to everyone I cared what I want to say and judge myself. I would ask about. And most importantly myself, “Does this make me sound dumb? Would I lost myself and didn’t know this help anyone?” it starts off like that and ends like, who I was or how to “No one is going to care what I say. They’re already find myself. thinking of it. It won’t make a difference.” I want to [ADDYSON STOWERS] say I act this way because I grow up in a very sheltered environment. I try to get out of the house more often because I feel trapped, ignorant, and lonely... I have never ridden a roller coaster my entire life. I didn’t know what the store Fry’s was because I was so ignorant of my surroundings. A girl then asked me one day if I lived under a rock, for I knew nothing about anything around me. Staying inside most of my life has forced me to look at my friends with envy, for they are out in the world living and experiencing life together, while I’m sitting here in my room slowly losing my mind. [NAM HOANG]

I’m more lost than a Polar bear in the Sahara Dessert. [LUIS MARTINEZ] This item greatly altered my life; it showed me that I treated a girl with love and I should continue it. It’ll give me presents. [BRIAN SAECHAO]

I’ve been carrying something around with me everyday, and that is fear. The fear of not being above average, the fear of not having all A’s, the fear of not being close to perfect. [ADA CHAN]

SOME DAYS SILENCE IS GOLDEN, BUT NOT THE SILENCE THAT SCREAMS IN YOUR EARS AND TEARS AT YOUR EARDRUMS. [JESSE ENEBRAD]

03 11 09 ARROW 456

I carry a scarf.

I don’t carry it around in my hand, but I wear it on my head to cover my hair, and sometimes I don’t know why we – Muslim women – cover our hair. It was just something I was told to do when I was a little kid. And here I am at the age of seventeen, still wearing it, every single day, but not exactly sure why I wear it. No one ever taught me the reason behind it and when I tried to ask people, they would get offended. They would say, “Now that you are in America, you are losing your culture.” Now, it is a part of who I am and sometimes people recognize me by my scarf, and it kind of bothers me because it makes me wonder if that’s the only thing they see when they look at me. Sometimes it makes me wonder how my life would have been if I didn’t wear a scarf. Would I have RAHMO been a little more attractive? Would I have been more MOHAMED popular in school? AUTHOR It gets annoying sometimes. M U S L I M The problem started when I was in middle school back SCI-FI FAN in New Jersey; I went to a school where there were white BABYSITTER Americans, Asians, and not one single Muslim kid; nobody OF LITTLE SISTERS knew anything about my religion. IN HER WORDS: I like I remember my first day of school there, walking in the to read. I read all the time. I’m currently hallway, not speaking a single word of English, seeing all the finishing The Twilight series. I’m also kids staring at me. At first I thought they were staring at me reading “Everything in the Moon.” I read because I was new, and I thought things would change as a mostly science fiction. matter of time, but then weeks passed, and then months. I often get in trouble Worse, I would go to a class and sit in my assigned seat for reading at home because I have to babysit my little and the kids would not want to sit next to me, as if I had a sisters. I have three contagious disease. When people actually talked to me they other siblings but they passed away because would ask why I covered my hair: if it was because I had a of war, lack of food and disease. I came bad hair day, etc. But at the end of the day I would just get to the U.S. in 2004. I over it because, in a way, I’m proud of my scarf. moved from Somalia I don’t have to lose my culture just to please others. to Egypt, and then to America. Dad does The sad days decreased over time. I still see fake smiles, religious teaching about the Quran. but I don’t let them affect me as much. Now I am glad I cover my hair because it actually feels good when I am around girls who have to wear it like I have to, and at my new school – where there are at least ten girls who wear hijab – I don’t feel as left out. There are billions of girls who go through the same thing every day.

Family Why did you wear my earrings without asking?

If my sister ever says that to me, my come back is, “Whatever. You wear mine without asking, so it shouldn’t matter.” Of course those arguments never last long, but there have been times when we haven’t talked for weeks. Usually when that happens, it’s because we disagree with something little and then start arguing, which leads to yelling. One of our larger arguments lasted for a little over a month. [MARIKO TABILE]

Seven years ago I lived in Cairo, Egypt and as a young boy my life was really great. I was happy with the way my life was.

One day after I returned from outside hanging with my friends I entered through the door of my house. I headed to my room to lay down for a little bit so my body could have some rest because I was tired. But before I could go into my room, my mom called me and I turned around thinking, Maybe she is going to tell me to go get her something from the store, clean up my room or take a shower. I sat next to her and I waited for her to speak. Finally she broke the silence and she spoke in words I couldn’t fully understand. She told me that in a couple of months our family would be moving to the United States. [ABDIFATAH MOHAMED]

03 11 09 ARROW 678

Dear Mom, I would like to tell you what I carry on a daily basis because of what K A Y L A you did. MILLER AUTHOR

COLLEGE

BOUND POET FRENCH FRY AFFICIONADO IN HER WORDS: The piece I wrote is a personal work of my past. I like reading because it’s entertaining, but I also like writing poetry. I am currently reading “Single Mom.” My style of music is hiphop. I like to eat and my favorite food is fries. My objective after high school is to attend a two year college and then transfer to a university.

I want to let you know I blame you because you put me through it all, or could have prevented it somehow. When I was three years old you told me you didn’t want me anymore and you couldn’t take care of me, so you gave me to Grandma and Grandpa. You didn’t give up Nathan because you loved him too much. You gave birth to the both of us but at the same time you treated him better than me. When you dropped me off at their little apartment and left, I cried for hours. “She’s coming back Kayla, just watch,” my grandmother lied. It took you two years to come and get me. You visited from time to time but it wasn’t the same. When I was five, you came and took me home. I have so much pain behind my eyes but it makes me stronger, that why I keep the poems in my binder as a reminder of the past. When I was eleven years old I asked you a question. “Mom, can you buy me some new shoes?” “No, Kayla. I just don’t have the money right now.” “But they’re only $60 bucks, Mom.” “ I said No, just leave it at that,” you said dryly. The very next day you bought your husband a $2,000 dollar car. I was hurt and upset that you put him before me. When I got my first check from my first job, I bought some shoes. I was very happy, and nothing you or your husband could say could get me off my high. I felt independent and on top of the world. It was a lot more than just money I got from working; it was happiness. Food is a big part of my life and I love to eat. I can remember many days when my brothers, my sisters and I had no food to eat while you and your husband were out partying all night long. The feeling of hunger was an emptiness I couldn’t fill. The sad part about it is that you didn’t care. “You better drink some water, then!” you always said. The things I never had as a child makes me want them now. All the things in my past make me who I am – but better. I forgave you, Mom, but you never said sorry. No matter what, I’m always going to love you, but this is my life and I’m going to shine. Love, Kayla M. Miller

I can’t seem to remember ever seeing my mother as a child. From what I’ve heard since I was little up until I did my own research was that my mother and some of my cousins got into a fight with another gang one night and my cousins were outnumbered and under the pressure of helping out her family my mom ran to the car and reached under the seat and grabbed a gun. She turned towards her enemies and shot three times, hitting three guys, each one time. They got away but later it got to the police that my

mother was the shooter. My mother was on the run and hot in the streets, so she was going to turn herself in. She left us with our aunt and uncle because they raised my mom too. I blamed my mom because in the average case it was the dad who left but I guess in my case it was both my parents who left. My mother never came around after she was out because I guess she wanted to get a job and also have a house for us but she turned to her old drug habits.

By that time I had my mind made up that I had gone this far without them and I could go further so I just never got around to putting in the effort. If I could only sit down and talk to her without having so much hate for her, I would ask myself and her so many questions. How would my life be if I had my mama? Would we be broke? Would my mom straighten up her act or just continue in the steps she was in before? Would my sister act differently? Would I be the same person? Would

About my mother: I wear a necklace, a small glass cylinder, which holds my mother’s ashes. I wear a necklace, a small glass cylinder, which holds my mother’s ashes. It doesn’t weigh much but it’s a big burden. My mother died of pancreatic cancer, on April 25, 2008. She was in her early forties. Afterwards, I moved about 180 miles from my home to a house and lived with a parent I haven’t lived with or known for over 10 years, my father. I also had to leave behind my sister, my grandparents, my cat and my friends to a city with a population of about 50,000; twelve and a half times more than where I used to live, Warrenton, Ore. My old school had 260 students. She was always willing to do anything – from eating elephant ears and riding the tilt-a-whirl to participating in any game suggested anyone, ever. That was my mother, Amy. She had curly, shoulder-length, silver and brown hair. Her eyes were hazel, and her skin was lightly tanned. She was a workaholic, single mom. You could always see her with a smile, even towards the very end. Even though the statistics said that only 3.6% of women with pancreatic cancer survive within 5 years of being diagnosed, she still had a smile, an unworldly optimism. She was empathetic, honest, and selfless; she could see though the hardest facades. I carry her ashes because it reminds me about her, Warrenton, my friends, the way things used to be. I want to carry the necklace because I don’t’ want to forget who I loved, not just my mother but my friends, my family, the town and especially my sister. If my mother was alive I would attend Warrenton High School; I would visit my grandparents; I would see my sister; I would have my cat; I would play video games every day, have dessert for breakfast, have true friends, have the most interesting teachers in the world. I would be bored all the time. And yet I would love it. Nothing can change though and I have to make the best of what I have now. My mother would want me to try to move on. So, the necklace doesn’t only remind me of what I had, but what I have now. Sincerely, Jennifer

my dad still be with us? Would we have the house on the hill with the family nights like how I want my children and wife to have? Would my mother and I have that relationship that some mom and their sons have? You know, the mom who makes it to every wrestling match. I can imagine calling my mom, telling her I just weighed in and explaining how my opponent looked, asking her if she can bring me something to drink, telling her not to forget to pick up my girl before she started

making her way to the school. I can imagine her yelling for me as me and my opponent shake hands and get ready for the whistle to blow. I see her on her edge of her seat yelling like she wants to go down there and grab the guy I’m wrestling and get him off me. I see her recording my matches and giving me a hug after a hardfought brutal victory. After the match I get the special speech to be careful because I tell her I’m going to hang out with some friends. I

JENNIFER JORDAN AUTHOR DOODLER

ORE. NATIVE A S P I R I N G TAT TOO ARITST IN HER WORDS: In my free time I like to draw. My goal is to go to a four-year university and major in Art. I moved from Oregon to Washington. There’s more recreation here. I hope to pursue a job as a tattooer because I like art and its fun. I’m looking forward to high school graduation.

tell her I love her and I’ll call her once I get to where I’m going to check in and let her know everything is fine. Instead I look at other kids doing all the things I wish I could do at a match. No phone call to my mom. No lectures or videos recording my matches. No one to lean on or lift me up when I’m feeling down. I mean, people don’t understand what t hey have until it’s gone. [ANGEL RODRIGUES]

Theory I believe people should love who they are, not what others think. I try to tell myself that I should love who I am today and not care about what other people

I read that people only do things that benefit them and that greed is in our nature, which I don’t remember any of those I believe is true. philosophers’ names, but they made me believe that if you take people out of their basic way of life and their basic needs, they will do anything to survive. We can also be persuaded to do anything due to the lack of having needed things...The main reason I believe that they get greedy is because they always want to expand their power. Most wars wouldn’t have happened if some country or countries hadn’t tried to expand their empire and gain more wealth. [Irvin Lizama]

are thinking about me. [SUSAN KITTAVONG]

Loan Huynh photo

03 11 09 ARROW 8910

Comedy is wonderful because it can take inappropriate or taboo topics and make people giggle, which makes us all feel better about life. [KEYONA JACKSON]

When I get the chance to help those in need, I try not to get aggravated over small things.

Human beings are not perfect; we all make mistakes, so you just have to learn to forgive. I believe mistakes are good things. Without mistakes you’d never learn from them. It’s the same with nightmares, because nightmares

make you confront your fears. You can never really believe too strongly in something. I see too much religion in the eyes of too many fanatics ready to judge others for the way they live their life. I do and yet I don’t believe in free

will. You have free will, and you will always have a choice, but sometimes some choices are easier to see than others, and people think there’s only one choice. I don’t believe in dying for religion; I don’t believe in dying for

anything really. I believe you can do more with your life over a longer period of time than you can by treating your life like a ticking bomb. Don’t live life if in a moment you just throw it away [Sean Fry] for a belief.

Sport A-cheewww. You hear someone sneeze, their hands clapping their face. The smell of dirty socks and mildew burns your nose.

KELSEY SPARKS AUTHOR

B-BALLER COMPOSER

OF ATHLETIC SYMPHONIES “I love writing more because you can write about anything. There’s no right or wrong in writing. . . I’m proud of my essay because I wrote about what I love in less than two pages.”

SLAM. A locker shuts; girls pack up their clothes and get ready for tonight’s game. As the door opens you hear the creaks of the rusted metal sliding up against the metal door. Walk down the hall and hear the small cheer of a crowd yelling. Step by step the roaring gets louder and your heart begins to race, as if you ran the 100 meter dash. You stop and notice a door between you and the court. Your left hand touches the cold handle and pulls down. Cheerleaders” pom poms shake, sounding like the beginning of your song. Stomps and claps feel like veins pumping through your arms, all knowing you have a pulse. The beat runs through your head so smooth and fast, as the jumpoff goes to the opposite team. The girl dribbles down the court, a beat of from the music on the floor. Side tracks of girls yelling and the squeaks of shoes against hard wood. Once again you hear a girl clapping to get the ball back and SMACK – the ball is stripped from the point guard. The drums of quick feet rush back to the other side of the court and the bass of the two steps leading to an easy lay-up. “Time out,” Coach White yells. The swishing of girls water bottles like the ocean on a windy night, a disturbing sound of someone smacking their lips, reminding you of rain drops hitting a wind shield. One. Two. Three. RENTON! The ball bounces and goes inbound, a girl shoots and it goes right through the net, making a swish, like a loud snap of a rubber band. Fourth quarter. Thirty-eight to thirty-eight. Two seconds left. Renton at the free throw. The stands get quiet; the ball bounces one, two; the dirt rolls between the ball and the hand, sounding like ashy ankles rubbing up against each other. Swish. The other team inbounds the ball, and it’s the sound of the clock goes off indicating that the game is over. As the energy level dies, the music slowly fades away and the lights shut down, a power drill slowing down and coming to a complete stop. Silence.

Loan Huynh photo

Everything he carries is based on things that keep him organized or items that symbolize something with greater meaning or a deep memory. These necessities consist of an Old Country Buffet receipt, two tiny bottles of Victoria’s Secret lotion, a blue-inked pen, a Canadian two dollar coin, Captain America comics, a picture of gramps, fifty cent Pokemon action figure, and an old macadamia cookie as hard as diamond. These objects

were never a burden but rather a wakeup call or an everyday need. He never minded the weight but saw it as a little weight training for his shoulders and calves as he tip-toed up Renton’s overpopulated stairs. The left side of his backpack holds a kiss. A Hershey’s kiss that a girl he is absolutely

head-over-heels for gave to him. It’s so common to see athletes with shoes of the type of sport they participate in but his are different. Not just the looks, of course, but the contents and history of the shoe. They are no typical running shoe, but a pair with hundreds of miles on them, brutal workouts,

hill-runs, track intervals, mud puddles and much more. Being a dedicated, superstitious runner, he brought around his purple sweat absorbent headband that was a good luck charm and ear warmer for him on race day. [ALBERT DU]

I broke my own personal record on my bike; it was a bright andsunny day with minimal winds that smelled of dandelions.

03 11 09 ARROW 101112

So I’m here waiting and ready, me

and my Nike dri-fit, waiting to take on anything and everything that comes my way, hopefully it will be a

state championship [ TRAVINO BUCKLY]

I was overwhelmed. I felt happy because I broke

my own personal speed limit... Then a realization hit me: I could get killed at that speed. I’ve always known I have had a problem with my need for speed, but I didn’t fully realize it up until that day. That day was when I was ten. The day I found out about dirt bikes I was excited to try a new sport. I was overwhelmed when I saw it, a 90cc Kawasaki kx90 modified with a brand new 120cc racing motor. It was green with a purple seat and a kick start transmission... I decided it was time to put my fear on the line, whether or not I would get hurt. So I found a long strip of land, dirt with a couple rough patches of grass with a few blotches of dead grass, some rocks on the side and then a jump at the end... When I started

up the bike, the first thing that came to my head was the song by David Bowie that sings about Major Tom going into outer space. I felt like I was going into outer space. So I got ready. Helmet, check; gloves, check; boots, check; goggles, check; I was ready. I threw the bike into gear and off I went. I put it into second gear; 30mph. I put it in third gear; 40mph. I put it into fourth gear; 60mph. But in the fifth gear... about 75mph before it went back down and turned around... When I reached 75mph I knew I wasn’t really backing down; I was suspending going faster for another day. And that was what started my fear, the fear that when I reach that again I might die.

[MATTHEW BONNES]

. For some odd reason, the

paws the size of a Tamagotchi toy

IN HIS WORDS: “I was born in Mexico and have lived in Washington for six and a half years. My favorite car is a fresh, filthy, Mustang Shelby. I love writing because I can express myself and my feelings.”

yellow eyes and

CAR DESIGNER

to do the same. My sister was especially interested in this all-gray, short-haired female cat with

AMATEUR

AAC, my older sister had ran off to the cat and kitten area. My parents followed her so I decided

ATHLETE

bulldogs, Scottish terriers, and much more. While I was enjoying my time in the dog section of the

AUTHOR

As I was walking down the aisle

JAIME RAMOS

When my mom, my brothers, my cousins, and my uncles came to the U.S., they had to go through a lot of things. I wasn’t with them. They crossed the border and had to do a lot of walking and running while the temperature was hot. They had to do most of the walking during the night because it wasn’t as dangerous as it was during the day. My family had to go through a lot of days without eating because the food they carried with them was overdue so it smelled bad. It was like it had mold, green and melted. The only food they ate was Cup Noodles and nasty burgers they bought before the trip. They ate the Cup Noodles raw and the burgers were old and smelled nasty. They also had to face the risk that if they got caught by immigration, they would be deported. That was one of the worst moments of their lives because when they were travelling, they travelled with like 20 people in just one small, old, rusty bus that smelled like feet. It was harsh because for the whole entire trip they had to be standing up because there wasn’t enough seats for them to sit and some greedy people did not want to share. It took about a month for my family to make it to the U.S. When they first got here they were so proud of themselves for not giving up hope and for not giving up on themselves.

My family moved for social and economic reasons.

with my parents, I could see golden retrievers, pugs, labs, puts,

Memory

Over time, everything became upgraded. Out boots grew bigger, our sticks longer, the area we explored grew smaller

It was hard to forgive, but I decided to do it

the way for him. [LOILANI MOTU]

[CHYNELLE NEAL]

and that’s the only thing that keeps me going...So ‘till this day, I’m going all

for my own good . I learned to forgive but not forget.

why I’m still here

After everything that’s been going on, I can’t believe that I’m still standing on my own two feet. Carrying that picture of my dad everyday

reminds me of

, so it began to become boring. I eventually changed from playing games

to reading books, where the good guys do not always win. [BRENDEN DOWD]

always won

opponents and we beat the odds. But this eventually led to the fall of our game. Well, this, and video games.

Above everything else we carried imagination and creativity...Most games were like this: We were against numerous

and the tree supporting the tree house rotted and collapsed as well...The props we carried were to make it easier to imagine.

paperwork done and Gordon was the newest addition to the Souksavat family. [MALISSA SOUKSAVAT]

with yellow eyes, and paws the size of a Tamagotchi toy, except he was a boy. So it was settled, we got the

Gordon, who looked exactly like her, and was available for adoption. He too, was an all-gray, short-haired cat

lady who worked there told us that we couldn’t adopt that specific cat. But that cat had a brother named

03 11 09 ARROW 121314

Memory Almost all students carry expectations from their parents. Sarah felt she had huge shoes to fill. Erica, Sarah’s sister, was like Superwoman. She never seemed to do anything wrong, or get in trouble. Nothing. She always did all of her homework, and aced tests. She never came home after her curfew and she balanced all her school activities and school work like a professional. And on top of all this, she had a boyfriend whom she always managed to see no matter how much stuff she had going on. Erica was President of the Science Club, in zero period jazz band, and in the Renton Youth Symphony Orchestra where she played her flute. She took private flute lessons, private guitar lessons, was on the swim team, took three AP classes her senior year, and she STILL managed to get everything done and was one of the top ten seniors for the class of 2007. And on top of all that, she managed to read one book a week. Sarah didn’t understand how she did it. Erica was amazing. Sarah was lazy and sometimes slacked off. Although it never showed, she knew that compared to Erica, she would always be somewhat disappointing to her parents in the academic area. [SARAH NELSON] Memories help me because they prevent me from making mistakes. When I was 12 years old my friend Alicia told me about s girl who was 15 years old and had twins. I was shocked. I said, “How can a little girl be pregnant?! How Stupid! I’ll never get pregnant being a teenager; in fact I’ll NEVER get pregnant in my life!” Ironically, when I was only 14 years old, I got pregnant. I learned a lesson: never say never. I remember when I was in love, and I also remember all the consequences of my actions: problems with my parents, my friends, my boyfriend, and even problems with the law. My worst memories, but also the memories that make me stronger are the memories of my pregnancy. I remember when I was pregnant everybody talked trash about me. They all pointed at me as if I was a criminal, whispering as I passed by. I felt so bad. I silently asked “Why?” I mean, I didn’t kill anyone, I was doing the opposite, I was giving life to a wonderful baby. The memories of my pregnancy sometimes make me cry, but they also make me stronger. Now whenever someone tries to put me down, I remember the time when I was pregnant and I just think, “This isn’t going to happen again.” I’m not going to let anyone put me down again, to make me feel inferior, to make me cry. Whenever someone tries to make fun of me, just because I’m a teen mother, all I have to do is put the memories of my baby inside my head. It’s like a slideshow: the memories of my baby’s first smile, first tooth, first time crawling, first steps. That good memory of my baby makes me forget about pain, about what people say. Whenever I’m having a bad day in school, I can just remember how my baby woke me up that morning with kisses, with smiles, with laughs and hugs. [YESICA GONZALES] I remember how in elementary school I used to write in my diary every day. I mostly wrote about the guy I had a “thing” for in 5th grade. He’s wasn’t even that cute, but I guess I just liked him because all the girls were on his jock. It was an obsession, but what can you do? We were young and dumb. Every time I think about it, I laugh. I should have been smarter and bought a diary with a lock on it, but I wasn’t, so eventually my little sister found it and read it. She would not stop clowning on me and threatened to tell my mom so I would get in trouble. I flushed every page of my diary after that. I never wrote in a diary again. But besides that, it was fun writing about that Filipino guy I just recently met again. I wrote letters and notes to my friends in those middle school days. We would fold the notes in cute ways and use pretty paper. We used colorful gel pens and made our notes stand out. We would talk about everything on the notes. I mostly talked to my best friend Jordan. She and I would talk about what we did over the weekend, or problems we were facing with other people. I remember she told me this one girl was getting on her nerves because she always made rude comments about her. I thought that girl was also getting on my nerves because she kept copying my style, my handwriting, and the stuff I displayed on my binder. I also remember when this one girl and I were beefin’, we would write each other notes back and forth talking smack. Eventually my mom found it... so I prefer not to write threats on paper anymore. [THAO NGUYEN]

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He was like my role model. One bright afternoon, Nick and some of his friends went to a park and they saw a pretty river so they decided to go swimming. They were totally having fun and just joking around. While they were swimming Nick’s leg suddenly got caught in something below the water, and all of a sudden Nick was sinking. His friends ran to him and tried to help him, but unfortunately they could not because he had sunk under the water. His friends tried really hard to look for him for about twenty minutes, but they could not find him. So the next step was to quickly go to the authorities and get help. It took the authorities about three days to uncover his rotting body at the bottom of the river. When my parents told me what had happened I could not believe it. It seemed as if I had lost my best friend and brother. I wish this had never happened , but I don’t have the power to change what happened. if I did, I would have stopped him from going to that park altogether. Since then, I have refused to go back to Australia. Without him, it’s nothing, because when he was there he made everything fun no matter how tense the situation was. It just wouldn’t be the same. When I lost him I can honestly say I also lost a [RONITA PRASAD] part of myself.

I carry a lovely picture of my best friend, Tony Hart, from back in 1996 when we were no more than 6 years old. It is a very bright and colorful picture that travels in my wallet next to my student I.D. card and ChapStick. Every time I’m feeling sad and down, I’d find a place to sit or lay, unzip my wallet, take out the picture, stare at it, and reminisce about my childhood best friend. These things catch my eyes: the grass in front of my apartment, my big brother in the background, my missing bottom teeth, and Tony’s bare feet. Of all my years knowing Tony Joseph Hart, I can’t remember once when he wore shoes. In fact, I don’t think he ever did unless he was forced to at school, and even then, I can’t recall what type of shoes he wore. It was always white socks with dirt at the bottom or just his bare feet. Messy kid. I feel a little bad but back then my family and I would use him as an example of bad manners. My mother would ask, “How do normal people wipe their mouths?” and we would show her by using a napkin. Then she would ask, “How does Tony wipe his mouth?” and we would all pull our sleeves over our wrists and press hard against our mouths, laughing. Although Tony got a few kicks out of it, I couldn’t help, but feel a little bad. I used to feel bad, until they started making fun of me. When I was a kid there would always be something wrong with my teeth. With my four front teeth replaced with metal, I had my own silver grill. Then after the silver bullets came out, I had nothing. No white teeth, not even yellow teeth. No front teeth at all. There was a horrible hole where people could see my tongue every time I smiled. This was the worst time of my life, but it was the best time for Tony. He would make silly remarks like, “Hey Teeth Freak! Hey Grandma! I found your teeth in their glass in the bathroom!” I was hardly around him when he lost his teeth so I never got the chance to make fun of him, but the bad manners were totally my payback. Most importantly, it was the lawn where my father said goodbye to me after him and my mother got a divorce. I remember the day: It was a nice Saturday afternoon, I woke up late – around noonish – and as I put on my white Sketchers sneakers, I noticed my dad placing his dark brown alligator suitcase next to the front door. I was in such a rush to go to the park, I didn’t even stop. Once I got outside I saw my friends waiting for me across the beautiful green grass. As I ran toward them, I heard a dark husky voice call out my name. I turned around and saw my father’s lost face, and his right hand gripping that shiny alligator block. He placed the suitcase next to him and grabbed my face with both strong hands.

ANGEL GAUBAT AUTHOR

A R T I S T R AV I N G

TWILIGHT ENTHUSIAST IN HER WORDS: “I like reading more because it opens my mind and it inspires me to write. I put a lot of effort into my writing because I want readers to understand and have a picture in their head of what I’m trying to write. I still haven’t figured out what I want to be when I grow up.”

Sound Way back in the ‘60s, before my mom was born, a new genre was born: Metal. I love metal and that’s that. [JAY BLACK]

Onna Giddens photo

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Princess Gaoaen photo

“Okay, hold this up under your chin... Yes, just like that. And hold the neck with your left hand... Perfect!” she said with a small hint of triumph. “Okay, now take this in your right hand. This wooden stick here is called the bow, and these strings that go from one end to the other are actually hairs from a horse’s tail. Isn’t that cool?” “Uh.... yeah,” I said, while imagining someone plucking hairs from a horse’s butt. “Really cool.” [ANDREW DUNN]

Language crack cocaine

It is just plain crazy. It’s random no matter how pure it seems and sometimes just can’t be explained. People often start talking, reading, or writing but can’t stop. Some people I know can read over 3000 pages in a week. Others get assigned a 5 page essay and write 17. They are addicted no matter what they say, and once they are addicted, they are not in their right minds to defend themselves. Having too much of something can narrow your beliefs and way of thinking. And when it is taken away you go into withdrawal searching for the smallest words, reading the facts on the side of cereal boxes, reading aloud every sign on the highway (which frankly just pisses everyone off), and even going on Myspace to read comments written with acronyms such as lol, rofl, brb, and wth. [JESSE LIN]

the wind

It can come in many forms. You can’t always see it, but you know it will always be there. [LAREESA BLAKELY]

a locked door

whose key is reading and writing. Don’t miss out on what’s on the other side. [DENNIS DANG]

highway or interstate

It connects people together. A conversation can start anywhere and follow a road to something completely different. A person learns the rules of the road, grammar, new words, etc., to use it in the best way. [AJANE BURNLEY]

the amygdala part of the brain

because it is the part of your brain that controls emotions in your body that can make you excited, or happy, and other times you can feel horrible. It can hurt or it can make you tickle. [CIAHRA FRANCK]

Princess Gaoaen photo

DURING THE DAY I read the alarm clock with its color and clock numbers. I read the ingredient methylcholroisothiazloinone on my shampoo bottle. I read the calories and amount per servings on my Honey Bunches of Oats. I read the Yankees symbol on my hat as I fit it just right. I read the track number on my cd player as I bump in my car.....I read the clock as it hits lunch time, a break from the madness. [CHRIS PONCIANO]

is like

03 11 09 ARROW 181920 When I was 3 ½ years old, and my mom used to read to me, I had an idea. It was to pay close attention to the parts where my mom turned the page to continue reading on the next one. Since I knew the stories already, it was easy to trick people. I used to take a book and pretend I was reading. Tricking people was so funny. People said: “Oh my God, you can read already?” “Yes I can,” I would say with a happy tone of voice. [JENNEFER HERNANDEZ]

I remember when I was in the 3rd grade I had a picture book about an island. I read this book every day because I felt so proud of myself for being able to finish reading my own book. One day my cousin James came over and I wanted to read him the book, I began reading and he started to laugh. At first I just ignored him and kept reading. A couple of seconds later he started laughing again and I asked him why. He said I was pronouncing island as “is-land”, and I started to realize how it sounded weird through my reading. [KINHDO LE] Once I finished reading the book all I wanted to do was to burn the assignments and make s’mores with the fire. [KENNY NGUYEN]

My most memorable times would definitely be when I had extra time at night on weekdays, right before bed. I would turn off the lights and have a lit candle and start reading. This always helped me visualize the scenes in the book because it was dark and quiet in my surroundings, and my environment helped me absorb and analyze every sentence the author had written. I wondered what it would be like to climb a tree with my favorite author. While sitting 5 feet above ground, we talked about emphasizing the small things in life to make them seem more dramatic and appealing. [ANGELE APHAYMANY] She never enjoyed seeing the correction of red ink scribbled all over her returned essays; it always made her feel hopeless. Not to mention the fact that she is usually pretty confident about her essays when she turns them in. [HAWA ABDI]

When my brothers were toddlers and couldn’t read for themselves I used to read to them or would help sound out the words with them. I now feel really good and proud that I did, because my middle brother is a year ahead in school. He is taking some advanced classes with the 8th graders while he is a 7th grader… I do not want him to end up like me, working my butt off while just trying to maintain a B average. [TYLER TRAN]

One experience I have with reading was in first grade. I hated reading. I didn’t care for it at all. I used to be so jealous of all my friends who were able to read big chapter books and I didn’t know how to read at all. I just checked out chapter books from the library and pretended I was reading them so I could be like everyone else. Until my teacher Mrs. Ward found a book I was interested in and taught me how to read. I don’t remember what the book was about, but I was so excited to know I could finally read... To be honest, I’ve always hated writing ever since I was little... I would rather read a book than write a paragraph.

[VANESSA MONILLAS]

In my backyard there is a big green tree. Under the big green tree is a small trampoline with a blue ring around it. And on that trampoline I write. It is quiet and comfortable on that little trampoline with the blue ring around it under the big green tree in my backyard. It’s my secret annex, like in the The Diary of Anne Frank. [BRIANNA JONES]

If I Could Eat One Word...

If I could eat one word, it would be “irony” because I still have no clue how to use it in a sentence, nor know the full definition of it. It’s just very hard to explain that word. People always try to explain the word to me but it never works. It’s just hella hard to understand its meaning, so I try not to use it. I also want “rubbery” If I could eat one word, it would be “unbeknownst” because it sounds like a very “snooty fruity” word when because it sounds ugly. About six years ago, my dad, his family, my sister and I took a road trip to Idaho. in all actuality, it’s not. It’s like eating precooked microwaveable bacon in the form of expensive caviar When we got to the hotel, my dad’s wife made a comment about something being “rubbery.” I still don’t imported from France. The definition is very simple but the word sounds complex, even Shakespearean believe it is an actual word. Rubbery just sounds disturbing to me. [DEIDRE JOHNSON] almost. [TAMTHY LE] “Hooch cooch?” If I could eat one word, it would be...“Googly Moogly.” If I could eat a word, it would be something funny. Something the dictionary can’t even define. If I would waste my time swallowing a word, it would be a word that would tickle passing my throat. Munching on the g’s and y’s would crackle and fizz, like Candy Pop. The l’s would wiggle through my digestive system while finding my tickly spot and make me laugh until I die. The o’s would drop and bounce in my stomach like the small, bouncy balls you buy for twenty five cents. Sure, I could eat a word that would make me smarter or maybe healthier, but I’d rather have a word that would make me laugh. [LARESSA BLAKELY] Take the word, “twin.” This word means two people born from the same womb at the same time. Watch this. Add the word, “tower.” Twin Towers. In the world for the past eight years, these two words take on a whole different meaning. Alone, these two words are just normal nouns. Together they symbolize America, freedom, peace, safety, honor and many other things. So, I wouldn’t eat just one word, I would eat an entire meal. [LINDSAY DACUAN]

If I could eat a word, it would be “shenanigans“ because nothing bad will ever come from it. If you ate mischief you may have symptoms like juvenile delinquency or indecent exposure. But shenanigan is a better word. It is lighthearted. It is taping the hose on the sink so that it sprays someone who tries to use it. It is running through the halls singing Michelle Branch and pointing at Mr. Ruehle when it gets to “If I could just see you. . . tonight!” It is hiding in the clothing rack at Wal-Mart and whispering “Pick me. . .” as they peruse. It is putting ketchup packets under toilet seats so they burst when people sit down. It is hiding “Depends” in peoples shopping carts when they aren’t looking. Shenanigans is pure, unfiltered, undiluted, sometimes PC, sometimes not, fun. It is never malicious but definitely nutritious for a healthy diet of humor. [VINCENT WARREN] As kids go through elementary school, middle school, and even high school there are always going to be the typical “cool kids” and all of the kids who don’t fit into this arrogant click struggle to mold themselves into different people just so they can be called “cool”. This is completely and utterly useless. The word “cool” makes me want to hurl. [ELIZABETH LEE]

Language I write in many places, from the school building to the walls that keep me safe at home. Those are the main two places I feel comfortable writing. When I am at home I pretty much have zero distractions. That means my TV is off while I am writing on my comfortable bed. The reason I feel comfortable at school is because when I am walking down those massive hallways at Renton High School I hear different sayings and lingos and it puts a lot of unique stuff in my mind. I keep those ideas, sayings, and questionings in my mind until I get in a classroom and take out my journal and a writing utensil and jot down what is swarming in my head like some angry bees. So I put those words down on some paper, and add what I got from myself too. I feel comfortable reading what I wrote down to my peers knowing I wrote a paper with some flavor in it, with all these sayings and questions. Joy comes to my face when my eyes read the period at the end of my paper. [BRADLEY BROWN]

I was forced to take the writing WASL. I felt forced because if I didn’t take it, I wouldn’t graduate, so the pressure was on. It was also timed, so you can image the sweat running down the sides of my forehead and in my armpits. When I looked at the clock, the sweat would get in my eyes but I had to wipe it off and keep writing. I got stuck a lot so every time I did, time went by faster which didn’t help at all. I had to write fast and think faster or kiss graduating goodbye. [LAUDON THOMAS IV] A writing memory still etched in my head is when I took my writing WASL sophomore year. The prompt was school related and I wasn’t excited to write two rough drafts and one final draft within a time limit. I dreaded the quietness and the hand cramps. I still remember the #2 pencils, 4 yellow pieces of paper with black lines on them and the writing WASL booklet directly in front of me. I clearly recall brainstorming several main ideas to write my paper about. By the end of the writing section, I was confident about my paper. I received my WASL scores in the mail and scored a 23/24 on the writing section which exceeds the state’s standards. [ANGELE APHAYMANY] Princess Gaoaen photo

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Staring up at nothing but the popcorn ceiling have won the contest designs. Held by the warmth and comfort of my but in my heart, so did I. I was bed. Events and images seem to be dancing in thin air. presented with an actual prize Suddenly a bolt of lightning strikes me in the noggin, instead of just a pat on the back or a giving me what I need to start a brand new slate of â&#x20AC;&#x153;better luck next timeâ&#x20AC;? for a less ideas to transfer into the art of than winning essay. It was a writing. Inspiration only arrives when you least expect it and only when the wonderful feeling. pencil touches a sheet of paper. [TAMTHY LE] [ALFREDO LAXA] Someone else may

Material

HE WISHED THE KEYS WOULD OPEN THE DOOR TO NEW OPPORTUNITIES AND A NEW ENVIRONMENT.

[ANTHONY SAELEE]

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I carry an old pair of shoes I got six years ago in the Philippines.

It’s a size seven, with plain black and pink color, and every time I use them, they squeak. I first bought it in a Mega Mall in Manila, Philippines. The store was big. It was located inside the mall, on the third story of the building. Inside, you can see diverse shoes (working shoes, sneaker shoes, normal shoes). I remember the scent of new rubber as I first entered the store, and the floor was newly waxed. The light was bright like a star. I could hear people talking vivaciously. Some of them were kids running around, SLACKER most of them just old folks looking around the stores. But my story isn’t about the store; it’s about the M U S I C I A N shoes themselves. U.S. NAVY As I entered the place, I saw the sneakers ENROLLE in the middle of the store, with lights pointed at IN HER WORDS: I them. I remember the revolving machine that helped don’t plan, I just circumnavigate the shoes where they were located. go with whatever. As I touched them, they were smooth. I thought Whatever comes up, I do it. I wrote they were the smoothest shoes I ever saw. They were my essay about my like the face of a newborn infant. shoes because I first When I smelled them, they smelled like hard bought them in the Italian coffee. Philippines and I have kept them for After I was observing them for a couple of six years now. These minutes, I decided to buy them. shoes remind me of The woman who cashed me out was an old my past. I carry my past today. I’m in the Asian lady. She was more or less 5’2”, and she was Navy, and it makes skinny. Her hair was almond brown, her teeth were me proud. I used to white, her voice sounded old. smoke, and I used to After that day, the sneakers I bought were with drink, and the Navy makes me a better me every time I moved. It’s like a piece of me linking person. one-fourth of my life. Somehow I cannot get rid of them nor give them away.

ATHENA LAOANG

AUTHOR

To some people, shoes may be something to protect your feet when you’re outside. To other people, shoes are something they keep track of as if they were children. However, to me, whenever I buy a pair of shoes, I can’t

wait to put the shoebox in my closet. I believe the best part about buying a pair of shoes is getting the box with it. Putting a fresh pair of shoes on your feet has an unexplainable feeling, knowing that people will be staring

at your shoes and possibly turns their heads, but once you put the box in your closet, it’s this feeling of ecstasy. Whenever I was young, I dreamed of having rooms full of shoes, so shoeboxes for me gives me the best

feeling. I like knowing that when I buy my shoes I get to put one box on top of another, extending to the bathroom, growing to the millions. I need to fill up all those rooms. [TRAM NGUYEN]

Prophecy [TAMTHY LE]

BOOKS WILL ALWAYS BE AT HAND and will continue to be written as long as the human race carries on because if there are people, there are opinions and ideas. It’s like books are too much trouble to get a hold of these days. Maybe the average human has gotten too lazy to flip the actual pages or has better things to do than just sit around and read. In the future, books will no longer be in the form of pages held together by glue. They will be on a hand held device… The future of books will be simply electronic.

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More and more people are researching things online and have forgotten about books. Books aren’t the source anymore. Instead it’s this screen that gives you bags under your eyes and shoots radiation at you. [SAYRA BUSTOS]

Today, our teachers stress about reading a part of a book every single day. But, more pressing matters are coming upon us. The world is evolving. Even as a student, I find myself behind in technology with all the new programs and innovations. I find myself wishing for “the old days” of looking things up in encyclopedias and drop-down lists on Word. Our world is changing as we know it, and before we even know it,

BOOKS WILL BE GONE [LINDSAY DACUAN]

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