IMAGES 2015 by Chandler School

Images Literary Magazine Chandler School 2015

Images The editorial staff of the Chandler Literary Magazeine, Images, would like to thank all who submitted their writing and artwork for this year’s edition. We tried our best to incorporate work from all grade levels. Unfortunately, we were not able to use all of the submissions. We encourage you to keep your head up, and continue to create. We hope you enjoy the poetry, stories, and essays, illustrations and photogrpahy. Thank you, again, for all the literary and artistic work submitted this year. Congratulations to those whose works were chosen to be featured. We hope you enjoy Images 2015.

Natalie Towner

It is our mission to produce a literary magazine which reflects the lives and unique perspectives of Chandler students as they absorb the world around them. “Creative expression is so important to our humanity. Every secret of a writer’s soul, every experience of his life, every quality of his mind, is written large in his works.” –Virginia Wolf Sponsor: Donna Dretzka

Technical Editor: Bob Kondrath

Front Cover Design: Anna Turysheva, 6th Grade

Back Cover Design: Caithlen Pranyoto, 3rd grade

Images Welcome to the World In my experience. some of the most influential people in someone’s life are not the ones who hover and lecture. but the ones who guide a person through life with only written words. Written or spoken, words hold importance because they can be used in so many ways; they are used to communicate, inspire, and teach. My grandfather, Lawrence Roman, was a playwright, and everyone in my family says that he “had a wonderful way with words.” Although I have never seen one of his plays, I know they are right because I am lucky enough to have an entire page filled with his words, all to myself. In a book of baby photographs, there is a letter addressed to me. The paper is folded three times, and the date on the corner is the month after my birthday, August 2001. The words on the paper are in Courier font, the kind used in most typewriters. The ink is black, and overall the letter looks polished and clean, yet old-fashioned. In the letter. my grandfather communicates to me through words, inspires me through their meanings, and teaches me with every sentence. Before and after I was born, my grandfather was aware that there was a possibility that he may not get the chance to know me in my teens. He wished that someday he could talk to a more mature me, but like most loving grandparents I’m sure, he still loved the curious little toddler. My letter from him does not mention specific difficulties I would come across in my life, or certain ways to solve problems. This is because my grandfather wrote what he had already known about me, without trying to assume my future. He never wrote what he thought I would become, or what kind of person I should be in life, only that I would enjoy it. I know that parents read the letter when I was born, and the note next to the envelope from them, apologizes for opening a letter addressed to me before I could even read it. Of course, I was never upset about that, only grateful that they kept it in such a good place so I can read it now, and hopefully in many years to come. The letter begins with my grandfather welcoming me to the world. To me this is an introduction to life, and represents every achievement that I can make with my writing. This letter is also important to me because it is a way for me to know about my grandfather without someone else telling me stories from the past, although I do I hear them from my family. I am glad to have a piece of him that I can keep with me. After reading the letter I know that my grandfather was very poetic and definitely had “a wonderful way with words.” Along with this, the letter represents all the support that I have from my family and ancestors. Since I’ m always interested in the lives of the family I never knew, it’s nice to have one person with whom I feel connected. I am so grateful that my grandfather was able to make me feel connected to him, even though he is not here anymore. Although I never doubted it for a moment, this letter is proof of how much he loved me. Ava Manson 8th grade

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Ella DesHotel- 7th grade

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Jewish I come from a temple, A holy temple Built and rebuilt Walls of paper And books of stone In a desolate land Lousy with hate. I come from passion, An irrepressible passion to learn Late into the night Read, chant, pray Studying from battered books With pages torn and bindings cracked I come from a flame, A powerful flame Dancing through the night Lasting far beyond its mere eight days Casting shadows on the faces Of those who watched. A small spark of hope In the ruins of a paper temple. Shaya Naimi 8th grade

Gracer Berger - 4th grade

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The Meta-Poem Writing witty poetry A wearying task Wanting to head outside A world to go through Playing or sleeping Running or jumping Laughing and dancing My brother plays basketball and watches TV Yet I sit at my desk Waiting for an idea to come I try using the poetic elements. Annoying alliteration is where I start My chair groans as I try to use personification I hear a snap on a branch as I try to use onomatopoeia Metaphors are an impassable wall of trampolines Always pushing me back I look out my window to the starts for knowledge While thinking of symbolism. I go and mow the lawn while I think about assonance I try to think of an example of allusion but Poetry is my Achillesâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; heel. Finally, like a baby, I break down crying After being unable to find a simile. William Labrador 7th grade

Theodore Tsai - 3rd grade

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Ivan Penichet-Khaw - 5th grade

Images My Sister the picture of Us, is not crooked nor straight, people would describe You as a dark purple and black, and people would mistake me as milky white, but We are sisters and no matter how pure i may look and be, you can point out the blackness in me and no matter how moody you may look and be, i can point out the white in you in the darkness when i want to be alone, you turn on the lights, grab me by the hand and smile. the picture of Us is not crooked nor straight, but its better for Us Not to be perfect Kara Sun 7th grade Porcupine - Sarah Kong - 3rd grade

Camille Oâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;Brien and Sophia Sandman - 2nd grade

Images The Crystal Blue Sea Snorkeling through, the crystal blue sea, the sun shining on you. Looking down to see, the prettiest fish in the sea, a rainbow of colors. But the prettiest of all, the green sea turtle, what you have been waiting to see. Night falls, and all you can see, the bright moon shines, on the not so crystal blue sea. It shines on, the dark blue sea, that is not clear, but still, leaves you amazed. Harrisan Smyser 7th grade

Almost Mexico I come from a place Where mornings fill with smells Of sweet bread and coffee And a grandma who tells Us she brought Mexico toffee. At her house we used to relax in the yard With a dozen more cousins who’d play Lotería with an old deck of cards. So for tamales we’d stay Made by the aunts in advance While their voices rang out About weather and rain’s chance. And we’d watch the sun set Over the hillside across the way While banana trees stand a silhouette Against a sky becoming gray. Madeleine Pearce 8th Grade

Sophia Smith - 1st grade

Images Fire of Creation Close your eyes Trust me and listen Let your full potential, Your aura, glisten Imagine everything. All that ever happened, And ever will, And fly, captain! String your fingers Through silken stars And gorgeous galaxies In your rocket car Twist and turn Comets in your wake Stars, far as you can see Feel space quake Now look there! So small, so new

So lively, so bright Our Earth, so true Asteroid belts Mighty masses Engulfing planets And birthing stars out of gases Watch solar systems As they implode Black holes, our gateway Into the truly unknown Hold moon rocks in your hands Crush them into dust Feel metal rain on Venus It tastes like rust Look up. You see The most fantastic imageBut thereâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s even more it can be Langdon Dearborn 7th Grade

Gram Van Buren - 4th grade

Images The Lego That Came Before All Other Legos Darth Vader is the face of the Empire; he conquers worlds and leads missions. My Lego Darth Vader is pure black except for his head and the decals on his chest. He has a dark grey cape. His grim, grey, and tired face is covered in scars. His eyes look like he has not slept in three days subsisting on gallons of coffee. His chest has the decals for Vaderâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s life support system. It also shows the other prominent feature of his armor: his helmet is very detailed but completely colorless. The figure is as light as the air we breath. His cape is rough and stiff; it does not move in the wind because of the heavy fabric. The head, limbs, and chest are constructed from smooth plastic and are the generic black body and legs for some Lego pieces. Of the pieces the uniqueness comes from their decals. The helmet was a new piece designed for Darth Vader. Vader is about three quarters as tall as my thumb and a little wider than my thumb. Darth seems like a small Lego figure, but he has a very large sentimental value to me. The first large Lego set I received and completed on my own had the Darth Vader Figure. My grandparents got it as a Christmas present for me. My parents thought it would be too complex. I was very excited to find the entirely different and interesting Lego figure in the set. The set took about two weeks to complete. When school started back up, work slowed down, but it was sill fun to construct. Completing the set alone gave me a sense of accomplishment and confidence. A few weeks after the set was completed, my sister destroyed. I was distraught and upset. Afterwards, I reconstructed it without the instructions and it was like I had just completed it again. It was demolished a second time by me little sister and her friend. I was quite upset, but I knew I could rebuild. I reconstructed soon afterwards . The set has long since destroyed but the memories live on inside me. The darth Vader Figure is by far my favorite Lego figurine that I have ever owned. He represents my ability to overcome something that seemed too hard to do alone. My minifigure symbolizes my love of Star Wars as well. The set was my first real creative challenge with Legos. It is a show of my love of Legos and creation of technology. The Darth Vader figure is a badge of my love of Legos even today. The Figure has been the testament of my love for Legos since I got the figure five years ago. His set was the spark that lit my burning desire to become an engineer when I grow up. This was the set that developed my love of Legos and gave me some of my favorite memories. Chazen Mellis 8th grade

Chazen Mellis - 8th grade

Images Fish I am a fish. I swim everywhere I wish. As I glide through the water, It goes swish, swish, splish. Going in my plastic castle, Swimming on a plant. But come out of my fishbowl, I canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t. I want to breathe fresh air, I want to walk and run, I want to be a human Playing in the sun. But I am a fish. Rojan Naimi 5th Grade

Lauren Bennet - 7th grade

Images white washed early on my culture vanished before my eyes abandoning me on the west coast. born with foreign looks and a native tongue, as though put into the wrong laundry bin, i have been white washed. the cali sun, l.a. palm trees, and pasadena shops, engulf me daily with the simple fact that i am an american. and i am proud to be one. to others i look like just another asian girl, with a tiger mom, tiger dad, smarts, and money. life as an asian-american is sometimes difficult. people constantly ask â&#x20AC;&#x153;are you korean, japanese, â&#x20AC;Ś chinese? this question constantly boggles my mind. what do i say? that i am only chinese? only japanese? the truth is i am who i am. i am a chinese and japanese-american girl living life in pasadena with my chinese and japanese family.

i symbolize a daisy, white and yellow. I represent two different worlds representing both in many ways, from the opera music of china to the sunny beaches of california. the smells of freshly cooked meals and family remind me of home. but where is my true home? is it the rural woodlands of china, the cozy depths of japan, or the hustling, dense city of pasadena? all of these places are my home, my origin, my Culture. my ancestors are brought back through my looks, my current home is my spirit animal. city versus country, now versus then. both dwell within my life and shall progress for thousands and thousands of years. Ashley Lim 8th grade

Images Where I Come From I come from a city where the small, colorful, two-story houses cover the hills, And from the cable cars crowded with tourists. I come from the wind that wraps around the sailboats in the ocean, And where the morning is cold and foggy. I come from the Golden Gate Bridge stretching across the San Francisco Bay. I come from a preschool where I had the power to control the tire swing, And where learning was disguised as a game. I come from a place where sleeping is a dream, And where free time does not exist. I come from a place where I can climb the ropes above the world, And always ring the bell. I come from a street, whose name came from the large boulders on it, And a neighborhood where there are just as many cats as people. I come from a neighborhood where it never snows, And where flowers bloom in the spring. I come from a place where the sky turns purple and orange as the sun sets. I come from the land of flamenco dancing, And the land of royalty and tea. I come from a family of coffee growers, And another family of restaurant owners. I come from a family that has a strong work ethic. Gabriela Rojo 8th grade

Chris Rivas- 7th grade

Images A Troop of Clever Monkeys I am from my family, a troop of clever monkeys From loud, powerful women who throw cotton slippers And men who play poker to determine who will buy ice cream. From the cozy family gathering, From the many Thanksgiving mishaps, From “We’re not watching ‘Fast and Furious’ again,” And from their undying support for my crazy dreams and ambitions. I am also from my second family, From the lovable idiot that emptied a tub of frosting into cake batter And our late night trips to FroyoLife and Blue Fish. From almost accidentally getting impaled with an arrow, From the pre-dance preparations, From texting a rant in ALL CAPS, And the friends who prove family doesn’t end with blood. I am from the adventure we call life, From swimming with sharks in the waters of Bora Bora And the feel of a coconut breeze on the boat ride back. From zip-lining in tropical Costa Rica, From jumping into the refreshing waters of the Colorado River, From playing Capture-the Flag with a neon pink sports bra on 8th grade Boojum And from living in the spontaneity of the moment. Tiffany Oh 8th grade

Jake Bowne- 7th grade

Images Editorials on Contemporary Issues Seventh graders, as part of their year-long project, chose a topic to follow/research for the whole year. One component of their capstone project is writing editorials each quarter. A Countrry Built on the Idea of Immigration Imagine being put into the shoes of an immigrant illegally crossing the border who has just been caught. What are your reasons for crossing the border? Immigrants from foreign countries south of the U.S. border, crossing illegally, are only in search for a new life, in a place where they can start out fresh. Or so they think. When caught crossing the border illegally, immigrants are detained in crowded and cramped shelters while they await the decision of being able to stay in the United States and possibly reunite with family members – worst case scenario: deportation. But are deportations really necessary? After all, the United States is built on immigration; should deportation even be legal? Deportations of illegal immigrants have significantly increased since 2001 to 2013, more than 300, 000 people. Less than half of those numbers were criminals, meaning the other half were people just looking for a better life, away from harsh conditions at home or other reasons. People who cross the border illegally and are deported had only been looking to the United States for help, and we turned them down. President Obama is under major criticism from not only the victims of deportations and other immigrants, but also from the Congressional Hispanic Caucus. Obama is expected to formally make changes to immigration policy, but how many more people will be deported before the United States takes real initiative on this situation? But, this situation is not just up to the president; it is also up to the citizens of the United States. More than half stated that ridding of the deportations would be more important than a course to citizenship. So what should be an alternative to deportations? The main reason for deportation is either criminal records or the fear of our economy being hurt because of the amount of pay given to the illegal immigrants. There is no clear solution to this issue. But a good place to start is thinking about the people’s interests. Why are immigrants illegally crossing the border? – to escape violence and poverty in their home countries. I guess that’s where we start. In order to fix the issue, we have to begin at the source. Something needs to be done about the amount of violence in countries south of the border that are causing the surge of people illegally crossing the border. Audrey Akins 7th grade

A Poor Government With more than 45 million people suffering from poverty in the United States, finding one sole fault for this destruction is difficult. However, the major causes of an increase in poverty come from one source in particular: our government. Not only has the government been decreasing efforts to find a solution to poverty, it has been implementing new protocols that increase it. Between 2010 and 2011, the percentage of impoverished people increased in 17 states and was the third consecutive year of increase in those states. Our government’s structure focuses on the upper class and not on solving the problems with the lower class. Job licensing has become an issue that causes the lower class to suffer more, while the upper class improves. In the 1950s, only 5% of people needed a job license. Today, more than 30% of all people are required to have a job license. These can be expensive and not affordable for lower class citizens, leading to uneducated, impoverished Americans receiving lower wages or not able to find jobs. The US Government has very strictly enforced constraints on businesses in America. In addition to requiring excessive amounts of job licenses, inspections and contracts prevent low-class workers from making extra money. . . (Continued on next page) 16

Images Editorials on Contemporary Issues (Continued from previous Page or starting their own businesses. These policies prevent people from running an independent business without owning a major piece of land and paying for employment and contracts. Many economically disadvantaged Americans looking for extra work cannot afford to pay for all the requirements that the US Government has for running a business, thus preventing them from escaping poverty. The mere structure of our economic society and social classes has caused 15% of the total American population to be impoverished since the rise from 2011 to 2012. Though our government’s motto may be “government of the people, for the people, and by the people”, our government seems to be currently held responsible for the destruction of the people and, in my opinion, continues to cause the outbreak of poverty in the United States. Grace Hitchcock 7th grade

Life Care for Drones It remains common knowledge that the attacks of 9/11 were devastating. 9/11 was when a group of Islamic militants attacked the world trade center. These attacks killed some 3,000 civilians. Ever since the attacks the US Government has been fearful and drones were made a precaution. Since then, drones have become more than that and have been used to kill many terrorist, suspected terrorist and civilians along the way. Pakistan alone has lost around 2,500 civilians. This does not include the drone killings in Somalia, Iraq, Iran, Libya and Afghanistan making the death list well over 3,000. The facts are that we have killed far to many people. The unfortunate truth is that there are no strict laws proclaiming and protecting drones and the civilians against drones. People’s privacy has been invaded and in some cases innocents have been killed. What prevents people in the US and other countries from drones? There have been many recent debates, trying to protect drones, and there have been other debates trying to prevent and limit drones. The Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) has begun to enforce strict laws. For instance they require federal agencies to publicly report where they fly drones, it is also mandatory to tell them what they do with their aerial surveillance data. The FAA came up with laws for commercial and recreational drones. By bringing awareness to drones the use of drones can become limited and maybe just maybe lives can be saved. Emma Cadena 7th grade

Left to Rot In the process of making electricity from uranium, nuclear waste is produced from transporting and enriching uranium. Even though it comes in very small amounts, it is radioactive, so it is dangerous for both humans and the environment. Radioactivity, which is the emission of energy from an unstable atom, is emitted from elements called isotopes, which have a different level of danger. The amount of radiation emitted depends on the isotope. Many accidents have occurred with nuclear waste including the Chernobyl accident. Workers were experimenting how long the plant could go without electricity, which caused two big explosions and released 400 times the radiation of the atomic bombs dropped on Japan. Thirty thousand lives were lost and many still suffer from the radiation. This radiation had disastrous effects on people and the area. . . (Continued on next page) 17

Images Editorials on Contemporary Issues (Continued from previous Page) Contrary to popular belief, however, there are ways to make nuclear waste safe. For example, Canadians are planning to build an underground facility to store the waste and possibly use the useful fuel again. For now, nuclear waste is dealt with by burying the waste in rock or water or putting it in stainless steel canisters. One good idea would also be to put the waste up in space where it will not affect anyone. Nuclear waste is not great for the environment when left untreated, but with especially good care it is potentially harmless. Aaron Kornfeld 7th grade Edward Snowden — An American Hero When Edward Snowden first released government documents about the NSA, a controversial uproar rose as to whether or not his actions were just. Edward Snowden risked everything—his life, his family, and his job to release information that he thought appropriate for the public to know. Immediately, the government sought the capture of a man that envisioned being a traitor—even though he was a hero in the eyes of many citizens. Facing three charges under Espionage Act, Edward Snowden fled to Russia—the one place that could be his refuge—as he began the long beg for a trial. In Russia, Snowden was almost completely cut off from a normal life; everywhere he went was a place of danger, and he was isolated from his family, friends, and home. The United States Court of Justice has offered Snowden to come home, but it would almost be guaranteed that he would be sent straight to jail—without a trial—for 30 years. I believe that Edward Snowden deserves a trial. Aside from all legal aspects that grant Edward Snowden a fair trial, he did what he did for the good of our country. At the New Yorker event, Snowden told Jane Mayer: “I have told the government again and again in negotiations that, if they’re prepared to offer an open trial, a fair trial . . . and I’m allowed to make my case to the jury, I would love to do so. But they’ve declined. . . . They want a closed court. They want to use something called the Classified Information Procedures Act.” Edward Snowden should get a chance to make his case, and explain his actions in front of a judge. I believe that the NSA should not have kept themselves a secret from the public, and I also think that Edward Snowden’s actions were justified because, although he may have broken a rule by releasing government papers, he still made a difference to our lives and can be considered a hero. I think that it is very important that before he is taken straight to jail, he is given, like all citizens, a chance to defend himself. Nonetheless, in the end, it is very possible that the verdict will lead to Edward Snowden getting some jail time. But all great heroes such as Martin Luther King and Rosa Parks have been unfairly served jail time, and I believe it represents their strength and willingness to put their country first. Taryn Kim 7th grade

Gabriel Salinas - 7th grade

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Emma Calder- 7th grade

Images Canyons I come from a place know by few Where the breeze floats swiftly through the crisp mountain air Mountains soar high with majesty Fall back into canyons Hidden Canyons Where I find my peace under ancient willow trees I come from a place hidden at the edge of the City of Angels A secret dwelling among the peaks Where stress is only a distant thought The mountains towering above I know the wonders of what resides below I come from days under the trees Where days are wasted away sitting in the saddle until nightfall Where worries fade away into blue skies It is possible to live a dream I come from the galloping streides Where the morning su glistens through the bars of silver arena The wind whistles through a horseâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s curious ears I hear the sounds of hoof beats stirring below me and all worries fade I get lost in the place I call home Worries are chased away by the majesty of a dream I am always at peace here There is no place like home Amelia Enzminger 8th grade

Rowena Harvey - 7th grade

Images My Bear of Memories My Grandma constantly tells me, “Great friends are hard to find, difficult to leave, and impossible to forget.” Always sitting on my shelf, looking at me, is a white bear. Red and black signatures mark its soft-as-silk skin. These are the messy signatures of seven year olds rushing to get to recess. Its nose juts out like a parrot’s beak, and its ears are those of a mouse. Its eyes make it look curious and aware of its surroundings. Its hands and feet stick out for one to grasp when having a bad day. Always on my shelf, sits my bear of memories. When my mom broke the news to my brothers and me that this year was our last year in Hong Kong, I wanted a way to remember all of my classmates. They were the people I had grown up with and had formed strong and unique relationships. I wanted to remember all of the memories we had together. While my mom was shopping for a friend’s birthday present, she found two bears with intriguing expressions on their faces. Right then, she knew they would be perfect for my older brother and me. The next day, I brought my bear for my friends to sign on my last day of school in Hong Kong. They covered it like tattoos with their signatures and their favorite memory of us, together. These recollections ranged from crashing a golf chart into a bush together, to meting each other on our first day of school. Thisbear has traveled across the world to a new country with me, reminding me of meories from Hong Kong. The bear is a symbol of lasting recollections and friendshops. Whenever I look at it sitting on my shelf, I think of all the relationships that I buldt and the memories I created in Hong Kong. All the times I sepnt with my friends, during or outside of school, are flashed back into my memory. I think of the reminiscences on the Junk Boat; jumping off the top of it like there was no tomorrow. Additionally, I remember the time we spent collecting and trading Match Attacks with all the soccer players’ statistics on them. I even think about my last birthday party in Hong Kong, when Tom, Thomas, Alex, and I all went to Disneyland and spent the night there. Whenever I need a spark of happiness, I look to this bear. It is truly my bear of memories. Ian Frer 8th grade

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The Dance Floor I come from the smooth motion of ballet. The lights are shining down on me Like the sun brightening the earth. Mirrors on all sides. My toes are pointed and my legs are straight. I leap into the air and smile to the audience. I spin, legs turned out Like a ballerina. I come from the blaring tap of the shoe. The tap of the heel and the shuffle of my toes. I create rhythm. We create rhythm. I become one with the beat. I shake the floor beneath me, Leaving black scuffs in my tracks Like a tap dancer. Anna Martinez=Yang - 7th grade

I come from the jazzy step of the shoe. As I dance I hear the trumpets and saxophones Ringing in my ear. I feel like Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m dancing down the streets of New Orleans Dancing through the home of jazz. I leap and spin and turn Like a jazz dancer. I come from the dance floor. Skylar Bowyer 8th grade

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Aerial Silks The colorful silks flow like a waterfall to the floor. Her feet wrap around the strips of fabric under the heel over the ankle. Her front foot begins to move forward her upper body begins to lower and her arms begin to relax as the weight is transferred to her legs. She is in a perfect split. Her hands release their hard grip on the smooth silk and whoosh she falls forward with a spin the fabric flares behind her and she looks like a peacock. Her gorgeous plumage pruned and primped to perfection behind her. Rowena Harvey 7th grade Kai Belzer - 2nd grade

Images Aunt Mame As she sits with her toes in the sand Along the shores of Harding Beach in Chatham and watches her nieces and nephews play in the ocean waves on the bright summer day. With the sweetness of sugarplums, Thoughtfulness and charity. Always giving and never taking. Stories of unlimited generosity, nothing could stop her from loving her friends and family. All those times with ice cream and smiles. as kindhearted as a teddy bear. Teaching her niece how to drive, At the age of fourteen. It is the unimaginable stories, The ones that are remembered and cherished. Those are the ones that happened with Mamie. Giving more than allowance, summer trips to beaches, love and hugs. She gave knowledge Teaching what was right and scolding what was wrong. She was more than just that superhero aunt that everyone dreams of. She was a friend, A second mother, A helper. Even now, she lives in our thoughts, in our memories. She will always live. Aunt Mame will always be sitting in the sand under the sun At Harding Beach in Chatham. Grace Hitchcock 7 th Grade

Monika Vargas - 2nd grade

Images A Little Pouch of Fluff and Rice My anxious little eyes peeking out from behind the cluttered couch, checking the laundry room door every other minute. The bubbly, anxious feeling, waiting for a six inch tall, stuffed lamb to emerge from its seemingly never-ending “bubble bath.” These are experiences and emotions I can describe to you very well, but let me paint a picture of what Lamby the Lamb looks like. With white matted fur from 13 years of companionship, Lamby has a cream face exhibiting a hazelnut nose and two black, beady eyes. She wears a pink smile, that is now somewhat faint, but can still light up my face. Although her fur is somewhat matted, it still has the same soft and fluffy feel that made a newborn once fall in love. One arm is a tiny bit longer than the other, due to constantly pulling and dragging along. Her knobby hooves and small nose tapping against my own nose clear artist’s or writer’s block. Lamby reminds me of the carefree, stuffed animal-hoarding days that seem like just yesterday. According to my parents, when I was a baby and toddler, I hoarded as many stuffed animals as there are stars in the night sky. In a toy chest overcrowded with stuffed animals, Lamby’s hoof or leg was always what I tirelessly searched for. I do not remember who gave me my beloved childhood companion, but I am told I got her from my mom or dad three or four months after I was born. Little did I know, that for the next few years Lamby would be not only my playmate, but practically another limb. When I was about a year old, I was baptized a Christian. It was only natural that Lamby was sitting on my shoulder when it happened. Lamby has not only been a reminder of my religious faith in Christ, but also of how I have grown throughout the years. Although some may not understand how a little stuffed lamb may tell the tale of someone’s life, Lamby has managed to do just that. My little lamb and I have traveled to Mexico, acted as flower girls, and experienced the first day of preschool together. These are only a few of the joyous memories that the two of us have created. A memory, by definition, is, “something remembered from the past; a recollection.” Sometimes, it is the memories that I look back on when I see Lamby, that leave me nostalgic for a time that seems like only yesterday. A time, when high school applications weren’t even near the top of my worries. Lamby may just be a little pouch of fluff and rice, but she is also a time portal. She is my time portal into preschool, when I stole my friend Sydney’s sticker book with Lamby as my partner in crime, or when I purposely kicked my second-grade nemesis’ shoulder while swinging on the monkey bars. There are days when I am focused on nothing but a routine consisting solely of homework, food, and sleep. When I see Lamby sitting on top of my dresser, she reminds me that although studying is my primary concern right now, it is not the only thing that matters. She reminds me that actually living and going through the motions of life, the dangers, the joys, the carelessness, matter too. Tiffany Oh 8th grade

Images Paradise Point In white wooden chairs, Bright moon shinning As we bury our toes in the cold sand Holding metal rods With gooey marshmallows Turning from the golden brown To charcoal black In the bright orange flames. The sound of laughter Mixes with the harmony of the waves Drifting upon the shore. The smell of sweet sugar and A fresh ocean breeze Wafts into my nose As we run back and forth On the edge of the shore. My best friends and I At Paradise Point. Ella DesHotel 7th grade

Emma Calder - 7th grade

Preston Ho - 8th grade

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I Come from Two Homes I come from Hong Kong, The sight of skyscrapers towering over me like redwoods, The sight of pollution, blocking my view of the ocean that surrounds, The sight of city lights, illuminating the city sky during the chilly nights, The sight of people, flooding the streets as I pass by. The sounds of traffic, horns honking in irritating tones, The sound of a foreign language, one that I am not yet familiar with, And the joy of friendship, from Imraan and Aleem to Tom and Alex, whom I have known since day one. I come from Los Angeles, the City of Angels, The sight of the San Gabriel Mountains to the Pacific Ocean, The sight of Hollywood, with camera lenses constantly blinding me, The sight of diversity, the true melting pot of the land. The sound of a cracke bat coming from Chavez Ravine, ot the crowd roaring at the Coliseum, The Sound of laughter and joy from Disneyland after meeting Mickey for the first time, The feeling of sun rays frying my skin, And the feeling of family, keeping me warm on a winter morning. Ian Freer 8th grade

Ella DesHotel - 7th grade

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Island of the Horseshoe Skeletons A place so alone and still Only the wind, water, and sand moves. Amongst all the elements are the crunched shells, Occasional seabirds, croaking seals, and tiny fish. A terrain so silent and peaceful Except the dark, lurking tidepool. So deep and dark only small fish and crabs scuttle the bottom Filled with water warm from the sunâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s deathly stare. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s like a prison holding all the tragedies being watched by an immovable force. A sanctuary so trapped and isolated Walking for miles in solitude Only the movement of calm waves and wind But on the seaside of the island with crashing waves sharks scouring for the seals. A landscape so unimaginable and beautiful The tide rolling out and the sand bar forming. You can stand ankle deep in the water Looking out upon the rippling waves Like seeing a heavenly painting depicting this golden place. A dream come true With nothing to do but relax under the sunshine Explore for miles and find treasurable shells finding the greatest beauty of all, the horseshoe crab skeletons. An island so memorable Holding all the memories, Of tidepools, waves, and sun. As you wave the island good bye on the boat Seeing its beauty become smaller and smaller An island so unique, It can only be seen through the horseshoeâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s skeleton. Grace Hitchcock 7th grade 28

Photos by Anna Turysheva - 6th grade

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Images A tiger is usually represented as a harsh, rough animal, However, my little tiger, Timmy, reminds me of a major event in my life. ‘Welcome to the neighborhood,” says Matt as he walks up to my family and me. Matt is constantly walking around the hills, daytime or night, always passing by our new house. He hands me a stuffed animal. It is a basic stuffed animal, medium sized, having the generic plastic eyes and nose as most do. I take the toy, grabbing its squishy, foam-stuffed body. Its fur feels very fuzzy, representing an animal I do not yet have in my collection. “It’s nothing much, just from ‘Toys-R-Us,”’ Matt says as he hands the stuffed tiger to me, “but Ihope you like it.” As my parents and he are chatting, I take a closer look at the tiger. He has a cute, sweet smile and little black freckles above his lip. His stubby ears display a bright, white color and a thick, black lining. The tiger’s stripes are not very wide or long, but show on his murky, orange fur. His pupils are big compared to the rest of his eyes and his nose is small and a nude, beige-pink color. “Thank you, Matt,’’ I say as my parents finish up their conversation. “He’s so cute!” ‘What are you going to name him?” my parents ask as we walk back to the house. “I don’t know yet,” I reply, contemplating on the different names my new friend could have. Basic names like Sugar and Fluffy run through my head a million times. “I can’t decide on a name,” I tell my parents after five minutes of thinking. The next morning, my mom asks me, “How about Timmy the Tiger, like the tiger from the Frosted Flakes commercials,’’ as she eats her very own Frosted Flakes cereal. “That’s Tony the Tiger, mom,” I remark laughing slightly. I go back to my room and look at this unnamed tiger of mine. I think about the name again. Timmy the Tiger. It sounds just like a television character’s name. I run back up the stairs and out to the garden where my mom is. “Hey, mom,” I say as she plants her tomatoes. “Timmy and I are going to watch Drake and Josh now.” Timmy the Tiger reminds me of when my family and I first moved to South Pasadena from San Gabriel. He is not only the mascot of South Pasadena, but he was also first given to me by Matt, my new neighbor, who was and is always kind to my family. Timmy also represents how easy it was to transition over from my house in San Gabriel to our current home in South Pasadena. My old house was a small, old, cozy home that suited our family until of course the time we moved, when I was in fifth grade. Timmy the Tiger was somewhat my first memory of being a resident in South Pasadena. Ashley Lim 8th grade

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Sean Liu- 7th grade

Lauren Tapert - 7th grade

Images I Am from I am from the rocky cliffs of Ireland But more specifically from Pasadena A tiny little green house on Mentor Avenue With a bumpy stone wall in the front

I am from a snowy Christmas in Michigan Shopping and baking with Grandma Hoping Santa decided I wasn’t that naughty And that I was still a good kid after all From summers in the azure blue Caribbean In a huge villa on the white, sandy shores Looking for sea glass in the deep blue sea Imagining my life as a mermaid

I am from Florida But with their “ma’am”ing and “sir” ing, And humidity as thick and stifling as a rainforest, We left almost as fast as we arrived

I am from my mother Terrible at drawing and a picky eater A shopaholic, perfectionist, and overachiever Singing along to the 80’s song she wants me to know Duran Duran, Cyndi Lauper, Billy Joel, and Bon Jovi I can actually name some of their songs The best care giver in the world

I am from Santa Clarita A development town 50 miles from my school Or any real civilization In the middle of a 100 degree desert of nothingness All the houses the same terracotta The same dead grass The same blue sky The only feeling is sameness

I am from my father Blue eyes full of curiosity Late night trips to get frozen yogurt Running on the playground after school every day The kindest person I know

I am from hours in a car Driving to and from school Everyday of looking at the same highway Reading the same road signs Passing the same buildings I am from fairy tales A wardrobe full of princess dresses A tiara that must be worn at all times Perfect pink and purple everything Tea parties with stuffed animals like subjects in my court Wearing little pink princess dresses of their own In the perfect pink palace of my room I am from all-out Nerf wars Playing tag and Hide-and-go-seek Running around and getting scraped up Laughing, shouting, playing, having fun Chicken wars in a pool, karate-battles in the lawn Not afraid to fight Stubborn as a bull I am from sharing everything With my other half Everything has to be even Everything has to be fair and equal From my food, to my toys, to my presents, and my room I even had to share my mom’s womb

I am from sleepless night full of homework and stress Followed by blurry caffeine-fueled mornings An endless cycle of work and planning a future Praying for the weekends to come sooner I miss my pink castle And my days full of mischief I miss my sharing and laughing And my amazing holidays I miss my sameness in that terracotta house I miss that hour-long car ride I miss staring at the same blue sky Because now that blue sky is gray I am standing here I am probably wearing one of the millions of sweaters I own And the same braid crisscrossing down my back that I have worn since kindergarten You can hear my powerful voice from across the room I probably just said something sarcastic I am surrounded by my friends and the people I love I am laughing Harder than I have in a while We are talking about where we are from.

Sophie Mullin 8th grade

Images Night and Day Indian by night, American by day Two clashing cultures, To me, One and the same Different beliefs, different gods I am devout Yet my faith lies in science Against all odds Take off your shoes, Touch your eldersâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; feet, Your right hand is always right In the temple, pay your dues Samosas, curry, idli, russum, Rasmalai, mango lassi, almond burfi, jalebi Cuisine with some spice, a seent, seasoning Traditional to where I am truly from Sandwiches, pizza, soup, salad, Ice cream, smoothies, bronies, cake Dishes of diversity with original flavors Foods of another culture, usually branded Pavadais and saris Unique for their fabric, color, and weave Jeans and t-shirts Known for being worn so commonly My roots run deep But as I grow older I grow apart from my roots With only family and memories to keep I live in two different stories I am Indian I am American I am me Uma Durairaj 8th grade

Images Try, Try, Tricycle As a child, learning to do something for the first time seems like the hardest thing in the world. But after grasping the concept, it becomes a simple action. Often, a person endures a series of phases, similar to those of the transit ion from a tricycle to a bicycle. My tricycle, in all its blue and yellow glory, holds numerous memories of my times as a toddler. Even with the quiet squeaking of the front wheel. and the old Mardi Gras beads tied to the handlebars from years ago, it remains in good shape, sitting in the back of the garage. The tricycle looks almost exactly the same as it was when I rode it down the empty road leading to my house. The yellow pedals with small dents in them still spin around when kicked; the bumpy blue seat rocks from side to side, and the neon yellow trunk tips backwards if the tricycle goes too fast. The broken seat belt still drags along the ground, no one bothering to tie it out of the way. A long. metal pole, attached to the back enables an adult to push and control the tricycle while the toddler steers. This tricycle began my journey on the path to perseverance, and has made me more receptive to new ideas, a skill that will help me in my future. I not only value my tricycle because of the lessons it has taught me, but because of the stories it has helped me create. In 2002, my parents purchased it for my older brother and sister. After years of longing to ride their new belonging, it became mine when I turned three years old. I spent hours each day practicing on that tricycle, trying to master pedaling one day, and steering another. Most days, I was outside from the moment the sun rays began their sweep across the backyard, until the second darkness blanketed the valley. One of my fondest memories of the tricycle was when my grandfather would push me using the handle, and slowly tip it from side to side. It was thrilling; it felt like I was standing on my tiptoes at the edge of a cliff. My siblings used to roll the tricycle around, exercising all their strength towards keeping it rotating, and trying to make it move in a complete circle; the tricycle was their spinning top. Even though I had to pass my favorite toy down to my younger sister, I was glad to be giving her the opportunities to create on her own and learn something new. Throughout the two years that I could call the tricycle mine, the memories I made are those that will never be forgotten. A blue and yellow tricycle taught me determination and persistence. Such a simple, childâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s toy has shown me the road to success. My tricycle gave me safety and stability while helping me learn that it is reasonable to have faith in things that may seem impossible, like riding a bicycle for the first time. It has helped me develop initiative to try, and keep trying, until something is satisfactory. Despite the fact that the tricycle is a hand-me-down, and that it has been transferred to others, it remains one of the most significant items from my childhood, and will continue to be a great influence on me. Uma Durairaj 8th grade

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Jarvis Kikekawa-Fraser - 3rd grade

Phoenix - Victoria Boumajdi - 3rd grade

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Magnolia Katz - 7th grade

Images My Grand Possession “It will go down in history as a turning point for the music industry” (Steve Jobs. as quoted in Fortune. 2003). My favorite personal possession definitely was a turning point for the music industry. My possession has no taste or smell. but it sure has sound! It plays every type of music imaginable and has volume control. It holds a keyboard and has a shiny. smooth surface. Even though this product comes in many sizes with different technologies. my own device is relatively small and simple. I use it every day to pass the time. to relieve stress. to listen to. and to play with. This is not something that I can fit in my pocket or use to call a friend: my favorite possession is a piano! My piano is very special to me because it is the only instrument that I can play. My piano was a gift from my grandma that my family received when I was in kindergarten and just about to start taking lessons. My piano has not been in my family for a long time. and it was actually a gift for the family because my grandma wanted me to love music as much as she did. My mom grew up playing piano on a stunning 9-foot concert grand piano, But that family heirloom was given to my mom’s older sister. When I was five years old. my grandma wanted to make sure I had the opportunity to learn to play piano and bought an amazing piano for me! Even though I did not enjoy playing at the time. I do now, and I thank my grandma for that. She not only gave me my favorite personal possession as a gift, but she gave me a lifelong gift of music. My piano is an escape. It helps me get away from schoolwork. soccer. and everything else in my life so that I can just relax. I think that my piano is a great tool to use to relieve stress. It enables me to get away from reality and experience true entertainment. I used to view piano practice as a chore and would look for ways to get out of the drudgery of the repetition of scales and plunking my way through silly tunes. I would beg my mom to let me quit piano lessons, but she would not relent. Then. one day. all of those little skills came together and I was able to play a “real” piece of sophisticated music perfectly. At once. my scorn for piano turned into passion. All of those piano lessons over the years paid off and I now have the skill to make music - and joy - at my own fingertips. My piano makes me feel empowered when I play on it because it is fun and exciting, yet also challenging. The most amazing part of being able to play on the piano is that I sometimes get lost in the music and I don’t quite realize that I am the one that is making the music that I hear. When I do finally realize that I am playing the piano, I take a moment of my day to reflect on how it has impacted my life. My piano is my prized possession because it is one of the key factors that define me as a person today and I believe it will help shape who I will become. Carson Hasbrouck 8th grade

Images The Crumbling Palace of Shattered Dreams In the crumbling palace of shattered dreams Far away from where the sun ever beams Suspended above our world and only can stare At others enlightened by the sun’s exclusive flare Ephemeral light fades into eternal black Cold, dark hands pressing down on your back Laughter like pebbles, smiles forged out of ice Glass-like eyes splintered by the Grim Reaper’s slice The wind eternally sobs, clinging onto the floor Crying alongside the lonely creak of the door Take a shaky wrong step and then it all falls Confined inside the castle’s shadowy halls Here lies the twilight of what would have been Had it not succumbed to the devil’s grin Only seconds before it collapses and disappears into the air Emerald eyes of the fortunate do not seem to care Woebegone feathers, wings that can’t fly Angels endlessly taunted by the seemingly free sky Many will come and yet few will depart Enclosed in the lamentations of the broken heart Nameless milky wisps with souls of fractured stone Piled, prowling Tumbling tears cascading like endless streams In the crumbling palace of shattered dreams Natalie Towner 7 th grade t

Athena Ledbetter - 1st grade

Images The Basketball of My Dreams When I was eight years old, I played many sports such as basketball, soccer, and football. For my ninth birthday, my grandpa gave me my first basketball. I took it everywhere for a few months; it was kind of like my best friend. Sitting in my closet, this ball evokes memories of my grandpa and special basketball moments every time I glance at it. The ball is an orange basketball and a full size ball that they use in the NBA. When I found out this was the ball that the NBA used, I became so excited. I took really good care of the ball and it looks brand new even today. The ball was my prized possession and by taking good care of it, I learned how to be careful with my belongings. Also, I learned not to take everything for granted; so this ball actually taught me a valuable life lesson, which helps me to this day. The texture of the ball is smooth and advanced microfibers make up the outer layer of the ball, which means the texture is much smoother, to the point of a more plastic feeling. Ironically it is not at all slippery, supposedly that’s the whole point about the microfiber, it absorbs water, or in this case, sweat. I can barely feel the small bumps on it, but the creases by the black edge are more noticeable. I love basketball and when I feel a ball like that, I am in heaven. It was my ninth birthday and I had friends, family, and my parents’ colleagues and friends over to celebrate. The party was a lot of fun, and at the end I cut the cake. After everyone settled down and started talking and eating cake, my grandpa pulled me aside and handed me a microfiber basketball. I never told anyone this was what I wanted, because it was extremely expensive for a basketball. My grandpa somehow knew this was what I wanted. I was dumbfounded and I just stared at it like it was a rattlesnake for about a minute until my grandpa tapped me on the shoulder, and I returned to reality. I said, ‘’Thank You!” and gave him a hug. He handed the ball to me. Since then, I have taken very good care of it and there isn’t one scratch, so it looks brand new. This was probably the present that affected me the most in my life. Basketball is such a big part of me, and to receive a ball that the pros use was just an indescribable feeling of excitement or happiness. There was not really a significant event that occurred with the ball, but it is something that reminds of my grandpa and hard work. My basketball means a tremendous amount to me. It taught me how to take care of my belongings and being thankful for what I have been given. It also taught me that you could not succeed without handwork. When I first got this basketball, I discovered a new side of myself that I had never known. I am a happy and outgoing person but when I start playing basketball, I become extremely calm and almost all the time, I never let my feelings get away from me, whereas, I am also an expressive and joyful person. I never realized this about myself, until I received the basketball from my grandpa. This ball also allowed me to realize that you are never too weak/young to do anything. If I received such a great present at a young age, it meant that my grandpa trusted me to take good care of it and learn valuable lessons from it, even though I was only nine. None of my other possessions stand out like the ball. There is something extremely special about it, which I still cannot figure out myself.

Vash Chaluvadi 8th grade

Images From My Family

I come from Islam From peace From love From the bright suburbs of Canton, Maryland The grass fields of Youngstown, Ohio The crisp scent of the salt-water coasts of Nova Scotia From the sweet taste of Barfi Traditional culinary masterpieces Simple lentils and rice From the dirt roads of Pakistan Wearing Shalwar Kameez The blazing hot sun I crom from my rich heritage From tradition From my family Majid Bhatti 8th grade

Taysha Kim - 6th grade

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IMAGINE Fantasy is anything Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s like soaring in the sky; Exploring, Finding new things, Fantasy is unimaginable. It wanders through your brain, Not knowing what to expect. Imagine. Explore. Remember â&#x20AC;Ś Fantasy is everything Lindsey Weller 7th grade

Majid Bhatti - 8th grade

Peyton Burns - 4th grade

Images Zig the Pig I am a pig My name is Zig I live in a petting zoo When people come into my pig pen They say, “Yuck!’ and “Eww!” I have no friends My loneliness never ends But today a strange crate Arrives at the front gate Out of it comes. . . A pig? His name is Chums Chums is very funny And visitors pay good money To see us play Everyday Eliza Williams 5th grade

Sophia de Reeder - 7th grade

Monika Vargas - 2nd grade

Images Heart of the City I am from the heart of the city Shouting through open windows to meet friends and cousins Running around in warm, comfy pajamas to sleepovers Weekends at the public pool disrupting the elderly regulars Small and cozy restaurants and the aroma of fresh fish I am from a suburb of giant homes filled with many friends Lazy summers with eyes fixed on the newest blockbusters Strolling down dark streets for Halloween candy Building gingerbread houses under twinkling Christmas lights Kicking the soccer ball to welcome spring I am from vacations in paradise Coconuts crashing on the sidewalk while catching lizards with bare hands Refreshed by green tea shaved ice and coconut pie from McDonalds Surfing as the sunâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s shadow sets over a watery playground An island family warm and familiar Preston Ho 8th grade

Angelica Sih - 7th grade

Images Open Lands I come from the wide, flat fields, Where the cows roam on the wide ranch. The sun rises early in the morning and speaks the sky with bright Oranges and deep blues, Where I smell fresh eggs and hash browns cooking at dawn. I come from a place with a lake right down the street, Where the fisherman are out at the break of dawn. I come from a place where the ground is dry, Where the flora grows through every nook and cranny, Where woodpeckers hammer trees all through the summer. I come from a place where everyone helps each other, A family of farmers and ranchers, teaching each other tips on Irrigation from Montana, the land open lands. I come from home. Jon Potter 8th grade Jonathan Potter - 8th grade

Leon Liao, Connor Jung, Ethan Abel - 5th grade

Images Busy Bees I am from a farm in Washington Wheat as far as the eye can see I am from a razor edged scalpel Cutting day in and day out I am from the collegiate basketball Swishing smoothly through the net I am from a small village in Hong Kong Left for new opportunities in the States I am from towering piles of medical records Pages telling a patientâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s story I am from pink pointe shoes Leaping gracefully across stage I am from a bed that is never made Covered with crumbs and cat hair I am from headphones Delivering brightening songs through thin wires I am from the metal fencing strip Hours and hours spent practicing daily

Malia Mohandesi - Kindergarten

I am from a hive of busy bees Each one working harder than the next Chloe Daniel 8th Grade

Preston Hoi - 8th grade

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The World The sun is creeping out. I am still in bed. I felt that the rain fled. Over the mountains, to the sea, Why would you ever need to flee? The sun is bright right ove, My house, there is pitter-patter of Rain like a mouse, and then the Sun comes out today that means, The sun will play. Alex Arrobio 4 th Grade

Matt Futernick - 8th grade

Victoria Boumajdi - 3rd grade

Images Red Rocks As the rock split in two, then four, then six The world divides Wrath of Gaea.

Sicily crumbled Boston blistered Red rocks of fire.

We saw Constantinople fall to the ground As Pompeii burns to ash Rome ablaze

As disasters unfold lives are taken nature shows its anger.

Chris Bruce 7th grade

Ford Mueller - 5th grade

Images Sun When I look up, I see a light, A light shining very bright. I look up though I cannot see, I always know it‛s following me. I look up, it hurts my eyes,. Then I slowly start to rise. My eyes are wide open, I see a cloud, I hear the birds squawking loud. I feel like a king, I feel so proud. It is so hot, I really like this quite a lot. I fly so high, I‛m in the sky. I feel so light, Trying to fly high with all my might.

I fly up, up, up. It feels so real, Then I float down, As light as a feather, Going way down, it‛s muc colder weather. When I get back down there, I feel the coldness in the air, Then my face starts to rise, I look up at the sun‛s size. It is soooo tiny, But not quite so shiny. I really wondered how that came to be, And suddenly I can see. I am slowly starting to drift up again. I am so curious of what I will see, So you‛ll just have to stick with me.

Anna Li and Jamie Yue 3rd grade

Lily Huang - 1st grade

Images Hot Air Balloon Ride Drifting through the air Soaring through the sky In the air I glide On my hot air balloon ride

Going higher and higher Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s adventure I desire! With the clouds I collide On my hot air balloon ride

Wind blowing in my face I can feel my heart race The birds right by my side On my hot air balloon ride

Flying in the sky My happiness will not die Standing with joy and pride On my hot air balloon ride

Far below I see beautiful hues Looking from a birdâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s eye view From me the world cannot hide On my hot air balloon ride

Rojan Naimi 5th grade

Artemis Ledbetter - 1st grade

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My house is a zoo. Dad is an eagle, strong and true but always at work. Mom is a deer, kind and loving but does not do the hunting. My brother is a raccoon, sneaky and playful but mostly annoying. And I am a wolf, clever and smart, but always learning. Luke Madden 3th Grade

Maggie Kurtz - 2nd grade

Images Into the Waves I put on my snorkeling gear and jumped in the water, and the first thing I saw was a bunch of fish and then I saw the coral reef. It was a whole new world that Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve never discovered, and the water was so clear and soft, smooth and refreshing. Then I held my breath and swam down to the bottom to get some really, really amazing and wonderful rocks and shells, and some broken parts of a coral reef that were shiny. Then I saw a leopard shark eating some seaweed so delicately. After that, I swam back to the shore and walked up to my uncleâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s beach house to grab a boogie board. I went into the waves, the boogie board caught a wave. Then I felt like some refreshment and put back the boogie board and ran to the waves and dived under a huge wave. My dad then came out with me and dived under some waves with me. Josiah Reyes 4th grade

Advika Prashanth - 1st grade

Images The Sun I am the sun, Rising high in the morning, Setting low behind mountains at dusk. In the morning I hide the moon away, The moon is begging me, Please go away. In the evening, I go, And the moon takes my place. But when morning comes, Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m always back in my place. Emma Newhall 4th grade

A Peaceful Sight A silent pond A river flowing Birds. . .Singing! In the evergreens, Lying an animal That animal Leading to a passage That passage Leads to silence And back To the pond Max Krech 5th Grade

Artemis Ledbetter- 1st grade

Images Winter I am the coldest season, I am winter Just a simple season, It is very cold everyday It makes it much harder to play, When I cry, It starts to rain, and sometimes it starts to snow, Just sometimes it starts hailing. Winter is a hard season, For me at least, You might think it is easy, Being a season, But the truth is, It is hard. Annelise Rising 4th grade

Kai Belzer - 2nd grade

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All About Me I’ve experienced. . .

Going to many places I love, like Canada, New Mexico, New York, Chicago, Milwaukee, Utah, Hawaii, and Catalina Island. I also love traveling to big cities and small towns, the sound of cars honking and birds chirping. I love travelling.

I imagine. . .

Being able to paint the sky that has no limits. With every stroke of my brush, I can make the sky darker or add bits of light to make stars. The sky is endless.

I know. . .

When I swim in the ocean, the waves pick me up and then drop me like they’re trying to send me somewhere, but fail to get me there, like they’re trying to help me, save me from bad things.

I wonder. . .

If friendships will last forever. If the people have gone to heaven. Then. . .then it would seem like they live forever, the friendship carries on for a long time, lasting forever.

I believe. . .

That dreams can become true. If dreams could come true, then you could wish for anything you wanted and you would get it. Or, you could dream of anything you wanted to happen and it would. I think that I could help other people make their dreams come true. Ava Delarosa 5th grade

Katie Sam - 2nd grade

Images The Wolf and the Rabbit Long ago, there were two rabbits and two wolves in the desert. The rabbits were named Pillow and Puf ball. The wolves were named Fang and Sharp. One day a wolf and a rabbit bumped into each other. “OW! Watch where you’re going, wimp!” “I am very. . .” The rabbit tried to inish his sentence, but Fang, the wolf, kept on interrupting. “Who do you think you are?! I am big and good and famous, and the best wolf in the world and I need my space!” said Fang. “I don’t think you’re the best-wolf-in-the-world, you’re just an ordinary wolf!” said the rabbit. “If you still think you are, I challenge you to a race!” the rabbit continued. “HA! I’ll win once and for all!” said Fang. “We’ll see,” said the rabbit. The next morning, they were ready. At Puf ball’s hole, Pillow was talking. “Are you sure you wanna do this?” he asked. “Yes,” said Puf ball. Meanwhile, Fang was talking to his friend. His friend asked, “Are you. . .” “I’M FINE!” said the wolf. When Fang saw Puf ball at the starting line, he smirked. “It’s not like you are gonna win!” They started to race. The rabbit started off very cautiously. The wolf did not care. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him. He laughed at the rabbit. “What a loser!” he said and went into the obstacle course. Meanwhile, Puf ball started to run. Fang was falling behind. “Huff, puff, huff, puff, gasp!!” Then, out of nowhere, “YIPE!” The wolf was hurt. Nails were stuck in his feet. “OW OW OW!!!!” Fire was burning him. “Whine!” The bunny, however, was ine. Jump! Roll! Duck! He dodged everything. The wolf. . .NOPE. At the end of the race, Puf ball tried to help Fang, who yelled, “NO! STOP!” The ambulance was there. Its sirens rang. “You just wait! I’ll get you!” the wolf said. “Never challenge yourself to something you can’t do!” said the rabbit. And just like that, the wolf learned his lesson. Victoria Boumajdi 3rd grade

Samir Sheikh - 7th grade

Images Water

F A L L

Mist in my face, water in my hair, I feel so alive in the cold, fresh air. Watching the heavy water fall from the sky, when I watch the water spray, I feel like a I can fly. Watching all the water flow, makes me want to dive in low, so I jump off the rock, forgetting to take off my sock. All the water in my eyes, I open them to find a surprise! There lies a bit, fat pearl! I am so surprised I hurl myself down, down, down. I was reaching for the pearl, and then screeching for the pearl. I was gasping, squirming, and desperate for air. Finally I cam up and felt my wet hair. Climbing up to the surface, getting ready to dive in, when I see the pearl again. I have a big grin! I grab it with all my might, taking it up to the moonlight. Once I come up, I feel like this is all a dream, it makes me want to jump up and screem! So I do. Anna Li and Jamie Yue 3rd grade

A Day in French Polynesia - Anna Turysheva - 6th grade

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Winter Winter, Winter, Winter, Winter,

winter winter winter winter

in the air everywhere day and night every night

Ariana Epstein 2nd grade

Sara Kong - 3rd grade

Images A Feather I am a feather Floating through the breeze Flying high above the world, The wind blowing on me See the whole world, Watch it fly by. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s a blur, Like a comet in the sky. The sun going down, The sky changing colors. The orange and the pink, A feather am I. Emma Newhall 4th grade

Ava Delarosa - 5th grade

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Spring! Birds sing! And trees are beau-ti-ful. Summer! I love you! You are nice and warm! Your trees give shade when I am hot. Autumn leaves, flutter down, onto the green grass. Winter trees cold and barren, While buried in deep snow, Desolate all stand; Alone. Lauren Lee 3rd grade

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Emma Cadena- 7th grade

Images My family is a peach tree. My dad is the bark, strong and protects. My mom is the flower, light and beautiful My sister is the leaves, light and dances in the wind. My brother is the roots, strong and holds us up. Am I am the peach, sweet and loving. Natalie Alonzo 3rd grade

Artemis Ledbetter - 1st grade

Images Haikus Winter Snow, snow, snow at last! Skiing and snowboarding too. Drink hot chocolate. Spring Fresh, soft, growing grass. Cherry Blossoms are blooming. Spring is here at last!!!!!!!!!

Summer Summertime is here. You can relax in the sun. Many people have fun.

Limerick There once was a flea Who liked to drink tea He flies in curves And gets on my nerves Because he likes to bug me! Ella Belzer 3rd grade

Fall Jump, flip, in the leaves. You dress up for Halloween. Carve a pumpkin too.

Chloe Leong 3rd grade

Maggie Kurtz - 2nd grade

Images Seasons Winter White winter snow fall Ice skating hot cocoa too. Love Joy Memories Spring Spring is colorful, All the flowers blooming too Red, yellow, blue. Summer Hot, Bright, Sunny Better put on some flip flops. Go down to the beach Fall Leaves falling, falling. A big fat turkey dinner Give thanks, everyone. Jamie Yue 3rd grade

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Kaitlyn Hong - 2nd grade

Elizabeth Boumajdi - 5th grade

Ashley Huang and Ava Alms - 5th grade

Rojan Naimi - 5th grade