The Cougar Feature Magazine, Ed. 1 by The Calhoun School

Matthew Potoker Nick Potoker Lily Edelman-Gold Walker White Raphael Nwadike Katherine Hade Josh Blank Hope Darris Anna Koppelman Sydnie Hyams Romi Konorty Myles Wolf Talley Sacks Johnese Robertson Charles Stone John Michael McCann Anna Dolgon-Krutolow

thank you contributors

SPECIAL THANKS Phil Tedeschi Hailey Kim Beth Krieger Lorenzo Krakowsky

Your guidance and support are highly appreciated, and this publication would not be possible without you all. Additonally, thank you Keizo Fish for designing this editionâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s cover.

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WELCOME Cougars

editor’s note Cougars, Welcome to the first edition of Calhoun’s feature magazine, The Cougar! This feature magazine was inspired by the Calhoun community’s talents and passions. Throughout my time at Calhoun, we have never had a platform to combine all these talents into one publication. My team and I feel very privileged to showcase the Upper School’s artwork and writing. Curating the community’s art and literature is an exciting, but prodigious responsibility. The Cougar is a beacon for Calhoun’s creativity, intellect, and drive. We hope that every single unique contribution will transport you into a different world, enabling you to morph your mood. Enjoy. Yours truly, Sara Barker

Sydnie Hyams

Some comfort by laughing Non-stop hugging “I love you, I love you, here for you always” Sorta Friends. Some cute Hockey Blonde hair, curlers in Advice bank Food cooking Fashion guru “I’ll style you at ninety, and feed you always” Type of Grandma. Some benevolent Humane human Touched by greatness That he was, and never said anything but the truth “Your cooking will make you famous” Kind of Brother. Some rabid reader with a record of always being there when needed Best Dad award winning “Keep calm, and carry on... you’re a tough kid” Type of Dad. I was raised by love.

I W a s R a i s e d B y L o v e

I was raised by Big mouths Verbal thinking Conversations so enticing you want to sit down and make these moments your last because “Here, with you, I’m happy” Kind of Family.

talley sacks

Nick Potoker

Anna Koppelman Â˘

The door to my bedroom keeps slamming itself against its frame It blames the wind Waking me up with manufactured innocence Have you ever found yourself in a cold bed With icy covers Shivering Knowing your own body is the only thing capable of heating itself up Angry at your chilled spine Toes curling The night you kissed me the washing machine spun itself a soundtrack Your hand on my knee Exhaustion called you solution You called me pretty Have you ever kept your eyes open long enough for the dryness to cause your contacts to blur? For a second the world makes itself manageable Until your eyes blink betraying your body back into focus Your sadness was a broken pen at the bottom of your bag Spilling onto your math note English book Your pack of gum All efforts to clean it up leave you with ink marked hands Have you ever looked down to find bruises you do not recognize Hands that donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t tingle when you hold Mirrors full of plastered smiles The bags under my eyes I could not hear your alarm system heart I said no inches from your face Lipgloss Tacky

I came to you expecting a shower, instead I found myself scrubbing in the rain The difference between a happy ending and closure

I am from a place where the tears and sweat of my ancestors are forgotten and discarded by foolishness. I am from the community where no one cares about me. I am a number, a number with no meaning. I am from a family where you are responsible for yourself and your responsibilities are responsible for you. I am from a place where you smile when youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re sad and cry when youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re happy. I am from a world where people see right through you.

Raphael Nwadike

I am a fun house filled with smoke, mirrors and illusions covering the true essence of how we are. But when you stop to understand me and where I am from you will see. I am from a life of darkness and loneliness that illuminates around me and shallow me into its depth. I am from a place where people donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t care about who I am, what I want to become and what I want to see in the world. I am from a life of stress. When you are being pulled in 12 different ways there not a lot of down time. However, I am a star that shines bright and overwhelms the darkness of my community, lighting up the galaxy. I am a comet that glistens through the sky. A book that is never opened. I am Raphael.

Josh Blank

Nick Potoker

e l d oo

Customize your magazine with your own creativity.

Plunge into Reality I’m not good at many things, but I’m always trying to be better than I am. And I’m always thinking big ideas about what’s around me. Weirdly, I’ll never forget hiking up the trail at Black Rock Forest. I remember looking from that mountaintop feeling more fantastically terrified that I had in a while. I suddenly got an idea for a poem. The trees in their divine dresses. They naturally complement the cool breeze. Their dances twist every leaf of their skirts. Each part has the elegance of an embroidered handkerchief. All I want is to decree I’m home. But I simply do not feel free. It was in this very moment that I reflected upon reality. I was at a new school and starting a new life. I wondered why in a time so beautiful, I still felt so distant. I’d had so much fun meeting everyone and having conversations with new people, but something didn’t feel right. I pondered this as I went to sleep, but I never would I have predicted the visions that would fill my dreams that night. I dreamt myself falling down an endless pit. I yelled and instinctively flailed my arms around, trying to find ground to cling to. I thought I was going to die and that I would fall forever. I let out a long sound, took a breath, and once again sounded for help, but I did so to little avail. I persisted for hours and eventually lost hope. So I simply accepted my fate and shut my eyes. But nothing happened. Slowly, I opened them once again, but something was different. I was still falling, but I noticed I was getting closer to a patch of green land miles below me. This time, I embraced the fall. I shouted again, but this time with joy. The joy of feeling excited again. I felt a surge of life prance through my veins unlike anything I’d felt before. As I drew closer, I thought that the trees were the same trees I saw back on the mountaintop. And upon getting even closer, I discovered that they were. I descended back to the high point I had been on, and I had no fright as I landed. I planted my feet on flat stable ground again. This time, I smiled and felt a wonderful ache in my cheeks that I knew was a blush. I looked upon the trees again with a fresher mind. And because of this, I noticed the trees were just like the skyscrapers in New York City and the desert hills of California. The next day, I felt no hesitation or anxiety around anyone. I realized that this was my new home. And I’ll never forget how kind, interested, and welcoming everyone in my grade was on that trip and how everyone else in the school was the same way. I’ve been to many places and schools. And that day, I finally understood beauty everywhere in the world and that even if you fall from a place you thought you would settle, there’s always a new place and new people to meet, as long as you take that first step. For all of you who are new to this school, for those of you moving onto college, and for anyone here at Calhoun who feels the way I did, I urge you to put yourself out there and just to find one good thing around you. Because I now know that it exists in every dent in every rock, every edge of every skyscraper, and every branch of every tree.

Myl es Wol f

Lily Edelman-Gold

Nick Potoker

Matt Potoker

Josh Blank

SAra Barker

I’m Just a Regular Degular Many people are aware and can agree that most reality TV shows that feature black women portray them poorly. Race in reality TV is not a subject about which many speak. Many do not think to compare closely two shows from the same franchise that feature a predominantly white cast. Therefore, for this project, I wanted to explore and compare how white women and black women are portrayed differently in reality TV. Cardi B, reality TV star, said it best when she called herself a “regular degular shemgular girl from the Bronx” because I can relate. I am just a regular girl from the Bronx, just like Cardi B, with aspirations and a strong opinion. And just because I watch ratchet reality TV, it doesn’t dumb me down. However, I do believe that reality TV does have an effect on me and other young women of color in society. Part of me wants to believe that young women of color (including myself) watch Jamiee and Jazmyn, Hanan, and Susu, Natalie Nunn, Nene Leakes, Cardi B, and Joseline Hernandez because a part of us want to gain something from them. These women, who are sometimes achievers, have the ability to be confident, real, and outspoken. But when we watch reality TV, we don’t consider these things. Instead, we’re worrying about who is going to fight whom and calling someone a “thot” because she’s sleeping with her friend’s man.

Shmegular Girl from the Bronx These negative portrayals do not go unnoticed, and it makes me wonder how young women of color are viewing and receiving these portrayals. I do believe that these portrayals are potentially damaging to young women of color in various ways. In the long run, the young women who watch these shows may think that this is the way that they are supposed to act, be treated, or look. Reality TV can also be damaging to the young men of color in society. On shows like Love and Hip Hop, although not recognized, the men play a huge role. Reality TV portrays black males as being disrespectful to women, lustful, dishonest, and emotionless, and it can lead young men to think this is what makes a man. The damaging effects of reality TV on young women and men of color hold people in a very difficult position because they are using these specific portrayals to learn either how to act, or how not to act. However, I do not think that women of color, specifically black women, should be pressured to be the perfect example of a black woman in everyday life because there is no such thing. Every individual is unique and shouldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t have to be told to calm down because he or she is trying to impress the outside world, especially a white person. These women on reality TV do not represent us. They do not represent me.

Johnese Robertson 25

Josh Blank

Nick Potoker

10 reviews of things that happened to me over MOD 1 In case you forgot who I am, I’m the kid who is always vigorously stirring his coffee during Community Time, and holds the door for you even when you’re going to a different floor. In the six weeks between the beginning of school and the finale of the first mod, several things happened to me. To list them all would waste precious ink, so for the sake of brevity, I have chosen ten things, objects, or experiences to review. 1. Not getting geometry on my schedule There were a plethora of reasons as to why I wasn’t able to double up. One of the reasons was that I decided to double up a month after course sign-up was handed in. The other reason, also involving course sign-up, is that I was convinced by a senior to do so. I mean, I’m fine with what I have this year, but I would have loved to kind of understand what my genius friends are talking about when they talk about math, you know? Rating: 5.75/10 2. Running a 22:50 5K at the first Cross Country meet The summer of 2016 could be considered a three-month training montage in that the end result made me finally fast enough to roll with the “big dawgs” in a Cross Country race. This one’s for the pudgy kid who only began to run in order to get a Nintendo Wii. I did it, champ. Rating: 8.5/10 3. Having my paper folders all break in my binder in the second week of the Mod It’s a conspiracy. The school supply companies know they’re gonna break but sell them, anyway! Luckily, I have plastic ones, but those will still be broken by the end of the school year. Trust me. Rating: Gosh darn annoying/10 4. The Meadows... ...Looked fun. Unfortunately, I can only afford one music festival a year, so I just stayed inside all weekend and watched anime. Also Kim Kardashian got held hostage. That’s messed up. Rating: No social life/10

5. Danny Brown’s new album, Atrocity Exhibition It’s a good album and showcases Brown’s exceptional lyrical and rapping skills. Also, it’s got everyone’s favorite enlightened hip-hop musician Kendrick Lamar being featured on one of the tracks, so you’re probably gonna go and buy it after I finish this review, right? Rating: 8.75/10 6. Cinnamon roll-flavored Oreos They finally made an Oreo flavor of your favorite fictional character. Jokes aside, these were pretty nasty and definitely shouldn’t be eaten on a regular basis. Rating: 3/10 7. Remembering that I’ll be 16 at the end of the month This means it’s another year until I need to start worrying about college and all that jazz. I don’t want to do it, fam. I don’t want to think about the selection process and the standardized tests and the high expectations. My heart is beating faster just thinking about it. Hey, at least I get to learn to drive. Rating: 5/10 8. Paying $25 to get into the Halloween party Man, I could get at least 60 dumplings in Chinatown with that money. Also, the seniors are probably gonna kick out sophomores, like me, halfway through and leave me stranded in SoHo, which means I have to fight my way through the city à la The Warriors. Rating: I can’t dig it/10 9. The wait for Blank Banshee to drop his latest album after three years I started waiting for this album in May. It’s October, now. Why would anyone delay their album like that for so long? I mean, I delayed my album by a month because I’m creatively bankrupt, but the difference between a bedroom producer, like me, and Blank Banshee is that he has a reputation to uphold. Doesn’t matter, still enjoyed it. Rating: 8.8/10 10. The final month of the 2016 Presidential election I’ll make this brief: I want to get off Uncle Sam’s wild ride, like really, really, really bad. Rating: It don’t matter, none of this matters/10

Charles Stone

Matt Potoker

doodle Make it your own.

MATT Potoker

Anna Dolgon-Krutolow

Lily Edelman-Gold

There will be a day when she returns. Perhaps today, perhaps tomorrow, Perhaps in an eternity. But she will come back, Right where she came from. To the source of her power, Right where she belongs. To whom she learned to love from, Right where she belongs. Back to you, Right where she belongs. Romi Konorty

b m i l C e h

kat

ne heri

hade

“Am I better than I her?” “Today is just an off day...” “That is just ridiculous...” These often plague my mind as a climber. I have been climbing for over 3 years, coming across many mind-boggling climbs. But the hardest climb by far, which I have yet to overcome, is my mind. This is not just a climber’s problem. Don’t we all have our own “hard mental climbs”--whether it is in the form of anxiety, jealousy, anger? In the beginning, I was a strict rope climber. I learned to climb outside in Peterskill, New York. A year after learning to climb, I joined a climbing gym. I slowly eased myself out of the outdoor climbing world and into the gym climbing world. It changed my perception of climbing, to say the least. Climbing became an intimate experience--the open sky no longer hugged my shoulders. In gyms, more people watch you climb, and more people give you beta (help/advice on a climb). In my case, it was usually unrequested. And suddenly, my mind learned a new set of unwanted fears and worries. “Am I better than I her?” “Today is just an off day...” “That is just ridiculous...” spun more and more around in my head. Climbing became just as difficult mentally as it is physically. I found it hard to get on a climb in front of people because I could not feel good about myself. I often had to force myself not to think about a climb in order to do it. Although usually, as soon as I touch the holds, everything melts away. In fact, generally, I think of absolutely nothing when I climb (unless I am unsure about beta). But other times, when my mind is not so clear, I become so overwhelmed that I shake while climbing. So how can I love something so much, despite it being mentally painful? The answer is simple to me. I love adrenaline, and I love to push myself even more. Climbing makes me a better human being, as does anything that forces you out of your comfort zone. After I started climbing more consistently, I felt more comfortable in my body. I was speaking up more and trying things that I thought I couldn’t do. I now understand that to overcome or improve your mind, you must challenge it. Life is an array of challenges. If we do not challenge ourselves, we cannot see what we are capable of, and we cannot grow. It may sound like a cliche, but it is true. How do you challenge yourself? Climbing is my challenge. Even speaking to people or being social is another way I push myself. Besides “self improvement,” challenging yourself also feels good. It is relieving. I used to feel in pain climbing trad. But once I finished a day of trad climbing, I would always say it was one of the best experiences of my life -- because life can be boring when you aren’t stepping outside boundaries. This doesn’t necessarily mean you should go climb a rock hundreds of feet above the ground, but if you find yourself shying away from doing something, instead of asking yourself why, perhaps ask yourself, why not?

Flora Morrison

No Man's Land Hope Darris One of my was five years I was caught good and bad,

earliest, most distinctive memories is from when I old and the elements were in the midst of a war, and in the middle. I was caught between light and dark, and I was too young to focus on anything, but Disney.

Between the ages of four and five, I used to live in California with my dad. We would take roadtrips driving back and forth from New York City to California, and we were living in a large house that was magical to a city kid. I was too young to remember, but my dad always tells me that I loved the adventure and the long car rides. The last road trip we took, when we left California for good, is a moment that I will always remember. About two days into the final road trip, my dad and I were driving on a long, endless road in the middle of of nowhere, in what seemed very much like no man’s land. I was awoken from a heavy sleep by what sounded like the Earth groaning in protest. Curious and excited, I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, sat up in my car seat, turned right, and looked out my window. I saw the sky was pitch black, occasionally being lit up by lightning that illuminated the rain that was pouring down. I remember feeling nervous and not wanting to look at the dark anymore, so I turned to my left and looked at the opposite window. I saw the world was calm, blanketed with a rose and golden light with the sun slowly setting into the grass. Obviously, I was confused. I looked forward and it seemed I was stuck in between opposing forces, light and dark, while my dad drove further into no man’s land, following the road that stretched so far it blurred into grey. Surprisingly, I didn’t remember feeling scared. My dad was playing Disney princess tunes to hide his fears, and I was dreaming of genies while Aladdin played in the background.

Thinking back on it now, it seems like something out of a dream. And actually, for the longest time I thought it was just one of those recurring dreams that seems so real, you make it a memory. But some random day a few years ago, I retold this dream to my dad and he confirmed it as truth. Not all the details were correct, but the central theme was the same--driving down a long, endless road, dark thunderstorm on one side, beautiful sunset on the other, and jamming out to Aladdin while trying to seem composed. My earliest recollection of the world is when I was caught in a battle of the elements, and I made the executive decision to forget about the fight and focus on nothing but Aladdin. It actually makes me miss being a kid. It makes me nostalgic of the times when I was able just to forget about the bad in the world and focus on the good. Just to pretend that the evil didn’t exist and that the world was only made up of virtue. But now I’m older, though not that old, and I can’t ignore the evil or pretend it does not exist, or it will come back to bite me in the ass. But every once in awhile, when it feels like the evils are becoming too much, I can’t help but think of gold and pink, and a field of sun. And I just keep on going, letting the genies drive me forward into no man’s land.

Walker White

Nick Potoker

Talley Sacks

I touched the edges of your Howl and carried it for nine months, natally in my left pocket, before searching for your picture: Allen. The photo Allen, young, in a suit, sunlight, glasses. The photo of a human. I knew you as Ginsberg when you were at war with yourself highlighting the elegance of the arc of a grenade mid air. How can a picture capture that? And Allen Ginsberg, Ginsberg, Ginsberg, you became less Howl when I heard you read: you became an old white guy named Allen. Allen Ginsberg, you read “Howl” as if it was the specials at a restaurant apologizing for writing it. Beginning with “Howl?” Apologies to the Supermarket Supreme Court. Apologies to the cadishness of your Kaddish. Reading it as Allen, cast as Allen Blind to the whatness of the original “Howl.” While you speak I look on, searching for the desperate smokey moonlit roofs screams but your voice is steady, in ignorance of the shaking world. Allen, you were never Ginsberg you have no idea how much it breaks my heart that Ruth Bader comes before you when I search for images of “Ginsberg” Images of the U.S flag come before you. Though who knows which you is you, as you have said, and would likely tell me: “It isn’t enough for your heart to break because everybody’s heart is broken now.”

YOU BECAME LESS HOWL

I’m in mourning. I worshipped an incomplete god. I wish I never saw your face, Allen, I wish I never heard your voice, Allen. I have promised the world many times that I will be wilder than Ginsberg. My teacher, my idol, Ginsberg, where are you? I’m searching desperately for your signature, walked out of my mind until three in the morning without any trace of you, searched for any sign of Ginsberg, Ginsberg, please be real! I missed sharing the earth with him by one year “Howl” is only marked with “Explicit.” Allen Ginsberg. 5,442 Monthly Listeners Howl - Live. Explicit. 127,000 listens. Howl. I’m screaming at the streets, surely surpassing 127,000 unwanted listeners. I’m Howling. But I’m with you Ginsberg, here in Gomel Chesed Cemetery, where we pray to fifty different gods in the hope that we may never be seen touching ground — with our flags — and our flagging times.

John Michael McCann

The Calhoun School

â&#x20AC;&#x153;There is a fountain of youth: it is your mind, your talents, the creativity you bring to your life and the lives of people you love. When you learn to tap this source, you will truly have defeated age.â&#x20AC;? - Sophia Loren

all done