Scales Issue 4

JUNE 2022

ISSUE 4

Scales

TABLE OF CONTENTS Nonfiction Effects of Screen Use by Maya Green El autor y su obra como "Las dos Fridas" by Emilia Salazar Right Message, Right Time by Hailey Jensen The Danger of Conspiracies by Felipe Haecker Lies for Profit: The New Meta by Daniel Crovato

Poesía en español 5 9 10 15 20

Fiction

By You, I'm Undone Forever by Marie Schwarz Monsters by Emilie Mendoza La mosca by Ben Codirla

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Art(ists)

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Jesús Wang Sofía Mesa Hailey Jensen Valeria Navarro Ana Sofía A. Melis Ayhan Sara Daggak Paula Aguilar Antonia Guerra Julia Choi Alexa Paredes

Poetry in English Bubbles by Jorge Alcedo International Law by Henrique Jun Ferreira Past, Present, Perfect by Maya Green A "Normal" Relationship by Francesca Calvosa and Hailey Jensen Humanity Is Screwed by Melis Ayhan Half Full, Half Empty by Isabella González For Homer by Emilie Mendoza I Don't Know What to Write by Camilo Pérez-Triana I Like High School by Anika Mullen

Fiebre de saqueador de Juan Carlos Chaia Insomnio de Juan Carlos Chaia Carpe Diem y Locus Amenus de Andrea Malek Locus Amenus y Décima de Manuel Spiegel Julieta y Mi hogar de Milán Cohen Beautus Ille y Collige, virgo, rosas de Prahlad Khatwani Oda al ahogado de Francesca Desogus y Emilie Mendoza

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52 54 57 59 61

More

Editor's Note Hamilton School Musical 2022 Graduation Convocation

by Jillian Kneeland

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4 8 14 19 23 24 30 32 37 40 48

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EDITORS NOTE According to Oscar Wilde, “all art is useless”, so they only way investing time and energy can be forgiven, is if “one takes great pride on it”.

Scales is just that. The Balboa Talks club being proud of its high school peers—Dragons being proud of other Dragons.

Indeed, it is difficult, or even embarrassing, to share one’s writing and art because it is vulnerable and easily critiqued.

Thus, safe, creative spaces are essential for the community.

The artists featured here are just at the beginning of their trajectory, but everyone ought to start somewhere to eventually shine everywhere. They are very promising indeed, and all three B-Talks officers—Mai Lee Berghaus, Emilie Mendoza and Emilia Salazar—are overjoyed to shared another issue of Scales as the academic year 2021-22 comes to an end.

Your editor, Emilia Salazar.

Nonfiction

Art by Jesus Wang

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MAYA GREEN

CLASS OF 2024

Effects of Screen Use When the COVID-19 pandemic hit, everything shut down. In-person school, jobs, stores and even some public transportation closed. No one knew the severity of the situation. Was the lockdown temporary or was it permanent? What could no longer happen in person became online. Going to school was opening a laptop. Workers went to meetings through Zoom in their pajama pants. Without the social interactions that come with going to school or work, our society became very dependent on our devices. As life advances back to normalcy, high screen time levels are holding steady. People are not progressing back into society like before the pandemic, and the world is spending more time than ever glued to devices. Screens are damaging to our mental and physical well-being, and we should be highly concerned about excessive screen use.

It is understandably impossible to avoid screens in everyday life. We heavily rely on our smartphones to communicate with others, organize events, and google information. Unfortunately, it is also impossible to avoid the consequences of screen time. Not only do screens cause eye damage, like digital eye strain and blurry vision, but it has been proven that depression and excessive screen time are connected, especially when it comes to the younger generations.

According to the Center for Disease Control (CDC), depression and suicide rates for teenagers has increased rapidly since 2010. This study closely corresponds to the rise of smartphone possession in the last twelve years. Professor Thomas Joiner from Florida State University says the connection between screen time and rising depression rates is a “concerning relationship” (Florida State University). Screen time

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MAYA GREEN

CLASS OF 2024

allows us to sit or lay on the couch for a limitless amount of time.

Human bodies are not engineered to relax all day, and obesity and lack of exercise are consequences from watching too much television and playing video games. An excessive amount of screen time increases weight. Yet obesity is not only a physical issue. It affects mental health such as low self-esteem, anxiety disorders and depression. Too much screen time, too much time spent scrolling through meaningless clips of videos, is one of the leading causes of depression, suicidal thoughts and attempts. Let us ask ourselves, are screens worth the risk?

Teenagers and children are at greater risk to experience negative effects from screens for multiple reasons. Young children's brains are still developing and are therefore weaker and more prone to sustain damage, yet almost fifty percent of children under the age of eight have their own electronic tablet. Children who spend more than two hours each day on a screen of some kind are more likely to develop issues surrounding language and thinking. Screens have replaced activities like drawing, reading, playing with toys and playing outside. All of those activities promote imagination and creativity that are crafted into skills used later in life. Screens are stripping children of these opportunities. As children are maturing into teenagers, there is no decrease in screen time. In the United States, teenagers spend up to nine hours on screens per day. The COVID-19 pandemic and social media applications are not helping the situation. Social media apps like Instagram and TikTok are engineered to be addictive, and teenagers do not have the tools to protect themselves. Social media sends toxic messages about body image, self-awareness and societal beauty standards to teenagers all across the world. A 2016 study found that the more time, especially at night, teens spent on social media was “linked with worse sleep quality and higher levels of anxiety and depression” and the pandemic has only made it

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MAYA GREEN

CLASS OF 2024

worse (Mayo Clinic). Without the interactions related to in-person school and activities, children turned to screens to stay in touch with friends or simply for entertainment they were not able to find elsewhere. Now, it feels impossible to avoid what just might destroy us. There is no denying that screens are detrimental to the development, happiness and well-being of children and teenagers.

However, there are positives to the advancing technology and healthy ways to balance screen time exist. There are whole worlds online that many are not aware of. Online support groups or digital ways to interact with others are crucial for those who are excluded or housebound. Along with the online social benefits come educational websites that provide free school-related information and tutors. Not everyone can afford a live instructor, and the online versions are a great substitute. The younger generation have become competent with the digital world. In careers, success revolves around the capability to manage technology and operate the ever-advancing electronic devices. By growing up with these devices, many children are on track to be successful in their careers. With the COVID-19 pandemic still raging, Skype and Zoom have become pivotal for colleagues, friends and family members to connect with each other if meeting in-person is unsafe. Like Zoom and Skype, social media has become prevalent in our lives, and it is a remarkable way to stay in touch with family and friends. Through platforms like Instagram and Facebook, friends and family are able to remain present and involved in relationships no matter the distance. These applications bridge the normally massive geographic distances and bring people together.

Social media is also a network to express yourself, especially for teenagers where the in-person atmosphere is often judgemental and stifles individual creativity. Teens can express themselves without the fear and pressure from society. To healthily balance screen time, start with limiting time spent on devices and promote activities that do not involve a screen. Resist the urge to be constantly entertained,

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MAYA GREEN

CLASS OF 2024

and allow children to amuse themselves. Find hobbies and turn to those during free time. Outdoor activities like biking, swimming or just simply walking ameliorates the damage screens cause to physical and mental health. There are ways we can live harmoniously with our screens if we work hard to fight the temptations.

Whether we like it or not, screens and media are here to stay. It is necessary to learn to live with them, but creating a safe balance between screen time and nonscreen time is important.

Without that balance, we will suffer physically and mentally. It is ignorant to ignore the warnings that excessive screen use generates. Technology is a gift and a curse. We can either let screens take us down or we can accomplish what is right through educating others on the negative impacts of screens, and redirect our society to limit screen time. The world is a wondrous place. Let us not spend the rest of our days addicted to our smartphones.

Art by Sofia Mesa

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EMILIA SALAZAR

CLASS OF 2023

El autor y su obra como Las dos Fridas Toda creación artística lleva el nombre de quien la escribió, produjo, compuso o capturó. A veces es un nombre o un apellido. Otras, una mera firma. E incluso en otras, solo "anónimo".

Es natural, ya que el reclamar autoría sobre un producto tan personal vulnerable es sinónimo de la necesidad humana de exclamar acerca de lo que enorgullece o se distingue: "¡Eso es mío!"

Sin embargo, cuando el contenido de lo producido no parece reflejar a la persona que lo hizo, qué ganas de borrar aquel nombre y añadirle a la declaración, antes orgullosa y casi pedante, un discreto, "...pero no soy yo. Es arte."

Imagínense entonces lo aún más confuso que se torna la frontera entre el creador y su obra cuando la segunda es espléndida, desgarradora y apasionante, pero el segundo es (con perdón) el más deleznable espécimen de la raza humana.

Esta fina línea entre el arte y aquellos que lo producen la explora Emilia Salazar en su ensayo. Así, si deseas leerlo, escanea el código de la derecha, y ¡disfruta!

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HAILEY JENSEN

CLASS OF 2024

Right Message, Right Time When I was in kindergarten, my teacher taught a unit about Martin Luther King, Jr. The only part I remember was learning a song.

“Doctor King, Doctor King, Doctor King was a civil rights leader!” I remember proudly singing to a parent assembly on Martin Luther King Jr. Day. Similar units followed in first and second grade. My parents had simple picture books about slavery and Dr. King which they read to me. Although this model seems represents honest efforts to “teach race,” here is the truth: I had no idea what “civil rights” were, and I was unaware that there was such a thing as racial inequality. To my 6-year-old mind, slavery in the 1800s and the Jim Crow laws of the 1960s might as well have been in the time of the Roman Empire. In third grade, we had yet another unit, and it was not until this grade, when I had grown enough to understand racism, that these ideas, terms, and lessons had any meaning for me. This experience, as well as research, suggests that direct teaching of racial topics need to be incorporated at developmentally appropriate ages, beginning at around seven or eight.

In discussing actual education, teaching of race should coincide with what is developmentally appropriate for children. Before making this argument, however, it is important to first lay out some basic assumptions. When people talk about “teaching racism,” what they really mean is “teaching with the goal of ending racial injustice.”

Lessons about race, after all, are absorbed--not taught--from parents, society, and surroundings starting at birth. However, the ability of children to relate to racial injustice in a meaningful way happens at older ages. In his text Origins of Intelligence, child psychologist Jean Piaget argued that children have different types of intelligences. One is the psychosocial; these are lessons children learn through parents, school, society and so on. The second is the

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HAILEY JENSEN

CLASS OF 2024

intelligence itself, “what none can teach him and he must discover alone; and it is essentially this development which takes time” (qtd. in Cooney 252). Piaget’s distinction is that parents and schools can teach information to children whenever they want, but children must construct an “internal model of the world” that they themselves understand, and this process can take time. This is important because the goal of teaching race is not simply to impart information, but to create change, and change requires that children not simply know about race but are able to absorb and relate to racial injustice. In his stages of development, Piaget believed that young children are fundamentally egocentric. In essence, “This means they cannot understand that other people think in different ways to them or that events that take place are not always related to them” (Sherell). By ages 7-11, however, Piaget theorized that “children further develop and master abstract thought and become less egocentric. They can now understand that events do not always relate to them and that others have different points of view” (Sherell). It is this ability to relate and understand which is key. If one goal of teaching about racism is to raise a more conscious, aware, and behaviorally different generation, then the lessons have to happen at a time that will be meaningful to the individual.

Piaget’s observations have been supported through neurological research. In current practice, many educators argue that teaching racial injustice must start immediately, and modern studies have found that children begin to act with simple empathy as infants.

However, other researchers make an important distinction.

Neurobiologist Jean Decety showed that while empathy may be the “the ability to recognize the emotions and feelings of others,” sympathy is the ability to actually have “feelings of concern about the welfare of others” (258). It is sympathy which matters in learning about race because simply recognizing suffering or pain in others is not the basis of wanting to act differently. McDonald and Messenger also report that although empathy begins young,

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HAILEY JENSEN

CLASS OF 2024

cognitive empathy--“the ability to accurately imagine another’s experience”--forms as children enter “elementary school years” (5).

The point here is that teaching something early cannot outstrip what the brain is actually capable of. Reading is a good example of this.

Parenting experts say that parents should read to babies from birth because introducing them to words, books, colors, and pictures will stimulate them and maybe start a love of reading. However, no expert or parent believes that they can start teaching a baby to read at birth. The brain is not yet developed enough to understand symbols, which is what reading requires. Similarly, research into empathy and brain development indicates that sympathy is formed in “a complex network . . . of interacting neural regions” (Decety 259). The characteristic of understanding outside experiences is a complicated cognitive act and there are “age-related changes in these neural circuits . . . [which] reflect how brain maturation influences reactions to the distress of others” (Decety 260). This research means that the ability to understand and react to concepts of racial inequality, privilege, or systemic racism is a complex thinking process. Relating this back to reading, trying to teach a 4month-old the meaning of words is pointless because the brain cannot yet understand reading. This does not mean that we stop reading to babies. Similarly, waiting until 7 or 8 to teach directly about race does not mean that parents or teachers should not build sound anti-racist principles; it does mean that we recognize that more direct teaching needs to come later.

In addition to biological development, social context matters as well. One research study showed that understanding abstract ideas such as the experiences of others or concepts such as justice or humanity grows significantly from ages 8 to 10 to 12 (Carmello, Setti, and Maurizzi). Not all of this is because of biological brain development. Carmello’s study showed that abstract concepts “are characterized mainly by the contextual information that defines the events which they are experienced in” (31). What this means is that

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HAILEY JENSEN

CLASS OF 2024

children’s ability to understand non-concrete ideas grows when as their experience—or context--grows. For example, elementary school children might be able to understand ideas of “duty” as “doing homework” (Carmello, Setti, and Maurizzi 31-32), but they would have a harder time understanding “duty” as fighting in a war.

School they would have context for, but war they would probably not. In a specific example of teaching racial injustice, the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum recommends starting to teach about the Holocaust in the 6th grade because these students “demonstrate the ability to empathize with individual eyewitness accounts and to attempt the complexities of Holocaust history” (“Teaching”). Of third graders, they say that although children can empathize, they do not understand the “larger historical context” (“Teaching”) such as concepts of Europe, the role of Jews in history, dictators and so on. The Holocaust Museum of course suggests that the ideas about prejudice and bias can be introduced earlier, but again, to make social justice part of the “model of the world” that children hold within themselves, these lessons have to happen when they are developmentally ready.

The question of teaching race is not a simple one. Part of the debate is clearly over when to start, and one concern is that doing it “later” is seen as a loss of important time. This is not unfair to say.

Developmental psychologists have found, “children between the ages of 2 and 4 can start showing racial biases. And by the time students are in kindergarten, research shows that they show some of the same attitudes about race as the adults in their lives” (Washington). The implication is that as early as two, parents could begin to counteract bias. In addition, schools and parents can make deliberate choices such as including “Black voices and highlighting Black stories and achievements” (Washington) at very young ages to build a balanced world view. However, research shows that internal understanding will come later. A young child may act in ways that seem “socially just,” but more likely they are copying what they see

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HAILEY JENSEN

CLASS OF 2024

adults do. For example, one teacher reported that in her preschool classroom, “her students made signs and did a walk around to protest mass shootings during a national walk out movement” (“Washington”). This met with the approval of many social activists, but it is hard to see how meaningful this was to preschoolers who cannot understand the abstract concepts of injustice or protest, or the context of “mass shootings.” Teaching race cannot be about satisfying a parental or political agenda, no matter how worthwhile.

Building an anti-racist society matters. Building a world where color of skin or ethnic heritage often means failure matters. However, real change has never come because adults impose their beliefs on children. Change springs from within, when understanding and beliefs become part of the internal “model of the world” which youth have built. For this to work, it must happen when children are developmentally ready. For me, ideas about race began to fall into place in the third grade. From that, lessons, stories, novels and history added to what I understood. New stories, theories, and ideas arising only the last two years have helped me to understand the racial injustices of our world. But this took time and development, which is what we need to consider when deciding to teach children about race.

Art by Hailey Jensen

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FELIPE HAECKER

CLASS OF 2024

The Danger of Conspiracies The 21st century has brought about vast changes in human society, the most influential of which is the internet. With over 70 zettabytes of information and nearly unrestricted access, the line between credibility and deception has faded, leading in part to the “golden age” of conspiracy theories. Despite the underlying nature of questioning reasoning and knowledge, conspiracy ‘theories’ are not scientific in any other aspect. As misinformation spreads, and scientific method-based reasoning is replaced by illogical ideology, the very existence of science and the furtherment of technological development as a species are at severe risk.

Furthermore, the spread of misinformation causes direct harm to “followers” as well as the remainder of society. Causing unfortunate behavior, people may be misguided and injure or endanger themselves and the people surrounding them. Moreover, conspiracies and misinformation are exploitable political and social tools used to cause harm or further one’s interests. There are multiple examples of conspiracy theories being used to manipulate people purposefully in a harmful manner. Lastly, Bonhoeffer’s Theory of Stupidity and Cipolla’s Theory of Stupidity, the latter of which describes stupidity as something social rather than intellectual, are applicable to conspiracy theories in the sense that they describe the workings and dangers of conspiracy theories. They, therefor, don’t imply that conspiracy ‘theorists’ are intellectually lacking.

This collectively reveals the threats that characterize conspiracy theories and the dangers of their existence and their spread.

Conspiracy theories, to begin with, are a failed attempt to mimic and apply science. Often times the arguments will be plagued with logical fallacies, completely disregarding the scientific method. The confusion, however, stems from their similarities, being that both attempt to explain the natural world around them. When people don’t understand something,

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FELIPE HAECKER

CLASS OF 2024

They will begin to search for answers, and when they refuse to believe science, conspiracy theorists will often create their own ‘science’ by taking information and filling in the blanks with any ‘information’. “The Week” also claims that conspiracy theories arise due to fear and unpredictability.

In either case, people fail to correctly apply science, which involves a testable hypothesis, experiment, and data analysis. Furthermore, in cases where this is applied, flawed thinking based on hasty generalization, causal fallacies, or straw man while giving the illusion of actual science.

Often times, conspiracy theories will observe a phenomenon and assume causation, such as anti-vax claiming vaccines cause autism, while relying on too few sources and disregarding all evidence against it. Its effect on a local scale means people will refuse to believe in science in general, extending past the simple conspiracy and encompassing aspects of science such as biology, or physics. In addition, it may have detrimental effects on larger scales, where, as VICE put it, “When you tear up the very bases of truth, you can start to believe anything”. This represents a threat to the continuation of science itself and the advancement of human civilization, which rests upon science. If conspiracy theories gain a foothold in a location, they may influence enough power to disrupt the usage of science, which would have consequences reaching far beyond science and knowledge.

Furthermore, conspiracy theories often inflict harm upon other people in ways which take the form of encouraging poor decisions, harming society, and even encouraging acts of violence. The first of which, is the most direct effect of conspiracy theories. By disregarding science, which Berkley claims “allows us to develop new technologies, solve practical problems, and make informed decisions”, one is bound to make misinformed and erroneous decisions based on false conclusions. A good example is the anti-vax movement, of which conspiracy theories play a major role in.

Although the CDC insists that the benefits outweigh the risks, based on disease and vaccine effects and mortality rates, conspiracy theories claim they lie.

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FELIPE HAECKER

CLASS OF 2024

Some go as far as to say claim that the Covid-19 pandemic was orchestrated by Bill Gates, with either unrelated or no evidence, and far too little data. The effect of this is that people will refuse to vaccinate themselves, exposing themselves to the dangers of the virus, such as Kelly Ernby, an antivaxxer who died of the virus in January. Moreover, the effects encompass all of society, especially in cases such as the pandemic.

Herd immunity may only be reached through a significant amount of vaccinated population, and with conspiracy theories causing vaccination hesitancy, which the WHO lists under the top ten threats to humanity and preventing an end to the pandemic while endangering those who are unable to get vaccinated. Moreover, the threat posed to science affects society as well. The people who may believe anything are also susceptible to control by powerful figures or organizations who suppress science or work for their own interests. A similar case to old Europe may emerge, where the Catholic Church controlled the people by controlling and suppressing science and knowledge. In addition, conspiracy theories can cause people to commit acts of terrorism or violence by manipulating the people, which somewhat ironically is the very thing they seek to avoid.

Good examples of this include the 5G conspiracy, prompting people to verbally assault 5G installation workers or even burn 5G towers in fear of their lives. In a more serious case, QAnon, whose adherents “believe world governments are being controlled by a shadowy cabal of pedophiles (who will eventually be brought to justice by President Trump)” with no evidence, according to the ADL. Also, Yahoo! News claims the FBI lists QAnon as “conspiracy-driven domestic extremism”, having motivated assault, kidnapping, and rallies.

Extending the extent to which conspiracy theories pose a danger, many have been used as a tool to accomplish political or economic goals. By pouring resources into and motivating conspiracy theories, powerful people are often able to get away things that would otherwise be banned.

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FELIPE HAECKER

CLASS OF 2024

This may include putting people of a conspiracy theory in power or increasing the conspiracy’s influence to the point where new policies aimed at preventing bad things are unable to be passed. An example of this may be found in the fossil fuel lobby. Companies such as Exxon and powerful people have invested in conspiracies disguised under illustrious names such as The Heartland Institute or the Cato Institute to argue against all the scientific evidence supporting climate change and prevent policies that would, to them, cause a loss. Furthermore, the ability to claim whatever without proper scientific evidence gives the opportunity for people to control a population. Examples mentioned previously discussed the effects of this power in motivating terrorism and acts of violence. Often times conspiracy theories will have leading figures which are then able to manipulate the people who believe in the theories and making them spread ideas to their children and friends, expanding their influence.

Finally, the theories of stupidity are applicable to conspiracy theories. To sum up Cipolla’s Theory of Stupidity: “A stupid person is one who causes problems for others without any clear benefit to himself”. Note that this is a social use of the word stupidity, and the theory clearly does not imply that stupid people have inferior intellectual abilities, claiming that even a Nobel Prize winner may be stupid. Conspiracy theories will often cause harm to others, believers and non-believers alike, with no real benefit to the conspiracy theorist. There are multiple laws to this theory and Bonhoeffer’s theory which state that they are more dangerous than bandits or criminals (who harm others for personal benefit) and that one always underestimates the dangers of them. Another important part of the theory of stupidity is that they are more dangerous than evil people, being that we can argue with an evil person, but not a stupid one. This is something common amongst conspiracy theorists, or rather the leaders, as a lot of the people are victims and simply try to do the right thing, will ignore all evidence against them, dodge direct questions, change the subject, or make up an excuse, making argumentation impossible. This makes them very difficult to stop and the people very difficult to help.

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FELIPE HAECKER

CLASS OF 2024

Throughout the history of humankind, the questioning of authority has always played a major role in how we act. Although this is nothing new, conspiracy theories have begun to gain traction in our contemporary society due to increased access to information and communication platforms. Many people have unknowingly fallen victims to the grasp of conspiracy theories and perpetuate false ideas based on false science.

As the influence of conspiracy theories spreads, people will continue to be endangered by them. They have also caused the abandonment of science among conspiracy theorists, which endangers the fundamental knowledge and education upon which our society is built. Conspiracies have caused people to think and act irrationally in a way which harms themselves and others, such as the anti-vax conspiracies. Moreover, they have made people endanger others while committing minor acts of terrorism or violence. Among some people with power, conspiracy theories have proven to be a valuable tool in manipulating just enough people to accomplish their own goals while preventing advancements in vital aspects of our world, such as the dampening of global warming.

Lastly, the theories on stupidity show that conspiracy theories and their leaders are dangerous, more than evil people. This goes to show that conspiracy theories pose a considerable threat to Art by Valeria Navarro science, society, and individuals alike.

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DANIEL CROVATO

CLASS OF 2023

Lies for Profit: The New Meta; How Facebook Abuses your Trust and in Return Endangers you for Profit You could argue there are two distinct ways that humans live life. In one such case people are allowed freedom, independence, and privacy. Contrarily, the other way people live is through the actions of another human, never having an original thought, in a world where privacy is traded for security. In the post-9/11 world, we see our personal information handed over to the government, since everyone could be a potential suspect of terroism. This suggests the law, and the global consensus both agree that monitoring the data of citizens is perfectly normal. This has thus created the world we live in, a world that permits tech giants to gather information for the government. Now, considering that the goal of a company under capitalism is to make a profit, then it is a reasonable conclusion to assume that the data gathered by their technologies could hold a reasonable amount of wealth if put to the right purpose.

Facebook, now known as Meta (but for continuity will be henceforth referred to as Facebook), was founded in 2004 as an internet based communication service. It has since expanded into a multinational conglomerate that dominates the social media scene. They own many of the world's most important and popular social media platforms such as WhatsApp, Instagram, and Facebook. This large portfolio with a very large daily user count allows them to implement user data collection with ease. The root of the distrust problem is the size of Facebook and its applications in relation to the data they collect, and more importantly who can view that

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DANIEL CROVATO

CLASS OF 2023

information. Theoretically, anyone can see this data for a small price. Many companies, called data brokers, profit from redistributing data obtained by social media giants; and the information they contain ranges from geographic location to the more personal tastes of a person. So herein lies the problem, Facebook and third parties are allowed by the government to collect data from users across the world. And this data can be accessible to a wide variety of people whose intentions might not be in the interest of your safety. Facebook, along with many other social media platforms should not be trusted because they are unaware of what your data can be used for outside of their financial goals, and they blatantly lie about the security and encryption used to protect your current data.

Data brokers hold a large database of encrypted data they have bought from Facebook and other similar brands. This data is then resold to anyone who wants it including for the noble use of police investigation. But the average person can also buy data from these brokers. Furthermore, seasoned hackers can easily decrypt the data from the database and find the location of anyone without paying a pretty penny. This poses a danger to people who want to hide from other individuals. For example persons who have had controlling partners might want distance from them and not give them access to their new information. People under witness protection are also at risk when anyone looking for them can access all their information with relative ease. It is incredibly easy to find people in the databases of these brokers because Facebook takes the liberty to label the data they collect and the database proudly displays all these different input parameters. You can find a person based on their favorite color or on a more personal condition like sexual orientation, and relationship status. While Facebook may not be liable for the security of the data in third party databases, they should still be more responsible on who they trust with their users’ data. Their inability to act on the security interest of their users in

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DANIEL CROVATO

CLASS OF 2023

exchange for profit is a major red flag for anyone who values their privacy and might want to protect themselves from the dangers of the outside world. Who knows what lurks out there? WhatsApp is advertised as a secure end-to-end encrypted messaging service.

That is mostly true unless you backup your chats. Why is this the case? Well in the fine print Facebook and WhatsApp actually state that by default chat backups are not encrypted and it is up to the user to decide whether or not they want to encrypt their past chats. This is further proven by the official WhatsApp help center FAQ, where it explicitly gives instructions on how to activate the backup encryption feature since it is turned off by default. While WhatsApp is a subsidiary of Facebook, the data they collect from unencrypted backups is incredibly useful given that now more than 2 billion people use the messenger (WhatsApp). And by default WhatsApp encourages users to backup their chats, a feature users have to turn off manually, or choose to encrypt. Additionally, an article by the Guardian points out that Facebook’s other messengers will remain unencrypted until at least 2023 (Milmo). This backdoor allows Facebook to collect your data while they sell you the idea of privacy.

The larger user base and lack of encryption server as a gold mine of opportunities for social media companies, opportunities that mind you, they try to hide in plain sight.

To summarize, Facebook does not disclose the reality of their encryption protocols to give themselves back doors to your “secure” conversations, and they also remain blissfully unaware about the dark uses this data can be used for. This presents a real concerning detail about the trust we have put in them. We have given our lives, our information to them in exchange for some additional dopamine while they profit from that same trust we placed in them. Those profits come at the cost of us, and nothing is being done about it.

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DANIEL CROVATO

CLASS OF 2023

Not only is this true, the government's original plan of collecting data from citizens to prevent future crimes, has not only failed, it backfired spectacularly to the point it is easier than ever to find and manipule victims thanks to the system built to prevent such actions. Facebook only took advantage of the system it existed in, so the question is not, Do you Trust Facebook? But instead we should wonder if the people who made the law should be trusted with a world they may not entirely comprehend.

Art by Ana Sofia A

FICTION

Art by Melis Ayhan

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MARIE SWCHARZ

CLASS OF 2023

BY YOU, I'M FOREVER UNDONE Power, everyone wants it but not everyone can get it. I could cry power as easily as I could scream pain. It pains me to see him win, to see him eat in his glory and stuff his head with praise. I scream at him to stop and give me some of what he so happily chugs down his throat, leaving no drop for the needing soul, but as he waves at me from the middle of the room with that sly smile of his, nothing can be heard coming out of me but a toothless smile with a pair of distraught eyes. He sees them and for a second I think that he sees through my façade, but then he turns and continues his walk through his subjects, and I, you might ask, what do I do? I sit at the right of my father, abiding by his wish: “Listen, keep your mouth shut, for once, Aza.” and so I listen to him and his partners talk about their power plays and games, but saying no word. I do have much to say, but without power, I have no right to say much.

Aza, my name, is ironically the definition of power in some language, my late mother once told me when she was tucking me into bed, yet now the name and the memory seem meaningless as I have attained no such thing as power or influence over anything till this day. I’m merely another young lady in court, courted by the prince or the monster that bears the strings of my life in a single index finger, and then you know the rest. I wake up and straighten up, walk a little, eat almost nothing, say almost nothing, smile, and curtsy at every corner like a fool, but secretly read everything that I get access to; it’s as if the power I don’t receive, I gain through knowledge, and then at night I dream, or walk a little more when sleep doesn’t take me to another world. It’s the same cycle again and again. A couple of years ago I might’ve thought it exhilarating; the spying of conversations, the reading of scraps of notes in my father’s library, the nightly escapes from reality, yet now it’s gruesome. I no longer feel the resemblance of power, it has lost its gold and now it has become dull, now I feel like a rat scrambling for crumbs on the floors.

“Aza, my dear, would you come to meet my dear friend’s wife, I believe you two

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MARIE SCHWARZ

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have much in common.” His soft voice pulls me out of my head, but the thoughts aren’t completely out yet. I give him a sure smile and excuse myself from the table, bidding my father a goodbye kiss on the cheek. He reeks of cologne, so much that I want to be sick, but then again, my husband does too, and can I puke at this most inopportune moment? No, I don’t have the power to leave with an unscathed reputation, even if it’s just because of a simple puke or gag or any sign of discomfort. So instead I clamp up my mouth and meet my husband’s friend’s wife’s eyes –green like the grass in our entrance gardens or perhaps a little more like the snakes slithering through the branches high above our heads. I give her a welcoming smile that she takes as a cue to pull away from her own husband and the set of two men beside us take that as a cue to leave: their duty of finding someone else to entertain their toys while they're doing business has been fulfilled, what a success!

“Nice to meet you, Lady Aza. I’m Lady Donelle. Oh, I have heard wonders of you.” At that, I’m struck. Has she really?

“Oh yes, I have not, you caught me there, I can see it through your eyes, Aza.” I give a giggle a try, yet the usual humor after such words are uttered is not there.

Her face is completely poker.

“I didn’t expect you to. There’s not a lot of “wonders” that come to mind with my name.”

“Oh, but there is. Power or Aza, is it?” My eyes widen of their own accord as my lips start moving of their own accord.

“No, it’s just Aza. Wherever do you get power out of that name?”

“Aza and power are equals, aren’t they? Oh, but it’s just a simple old tale that proves that, so, tell me, do you ever feel like killing your husband?” Again, my eyes widen at that, but I can’t deny I would feel any pleasure in killing him. Yet, I do not wish for his death, I only wish for equality, I want what he has, I want all the power he holds, but I don’t want him dead. “My advice, kill him before he makes you love him.” Love. That means nothing to us. He does not hold that for me, and neither do I, for him.

“Your jest is just so hilarious. I bet you have thought of doing this many times, am I wrong?” She laughs and looks at the pair discussing what must be more business in the middle of a full room of ears, for the amount of power they have, they sure don’t know that discretion goes hand in hand with it unless you want to lose it.

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MARIE SCHWARZ

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“Oh no, I lost my chance years ago. He made me love him and now I no longer wish anything bad for him. Don’t let it get to that point for you, Aza.” …

We waltz around the room all night, my husband and I, we never again get the chance to sit down, and I never ask, because a powerless wife can’t sit until her husband allows her. My father left long before my feet got tired, and so I no longer have the excuse of him calling me. Now, I have to see through the most dreadful thing: his eyes placed on me. They might look loving to an outsider, but being the insider that I am, I know that there isn’t even a spark of love, it is all a wicked obsession. He simply sees me as another land that he has conquered and that now is in the process of colonizing for himself and his benefit. I’m a toy, a trophy, whatever he pleases, yet that isn’t the scariest thing, the scariest thing is that he will not discard me and move on to the next as he has done with almost every other lady in court. He is still here, holding my waist as a loving gesture, whispering poems into my ear that he truly cannot mean, and looking for stars in my eyes that he truly doesn’t care to see. I feel as if I have no power to escape this and I’m just waiting for him to push me off a cliff, and yet as much as I crave for that fall, he does not push, and so I stay standing beside him, angled a little away and behind, showing that he is in control and that he holds the power.

I grind my teeth and become restless as the night ends and we walk out of the room. He is still holding onto my waist and for some reason, I don’t see any ulterior motive for it. We are in an empty hallway, we have left the ongoing chattering, drinking, and dancing crowd behind and no guards or ladies are out here to see us, for what reason does he remain endearing towards me. He pulls me into his arms and whispers, “I missed you, Aza.” I nervously push away and try to hide it with a giggle. His cologne does no favors to my stomach, I want to puke again, but I shut the urge down.

“Whatever do you mean? I’ve been by your side the whole night.” He gives me an impatient smile and I return nothing. I hate this. I could even hate him. How can he say he misses more of me if he doesn’t even give me the freedom to leave

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MARIE SCHWARZ

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and give him a taste of what truly is to miss someone or something? He is such a hypocrite. I miss things, like power, I miss it even if I never tasted it and I thought that by joining him I’d taste it, even if it wasn’t mine, and yet I feel even more powerless than before. “Don’t be so ridiculous–” “I’m not. The last time I truly saw you was when you looked at me from your father’s side. That was you, but who walked by my side the rest of the night wasn’t. Where did you go?” I went nowhere. I just realized I hated you a little more the longer I saw you smile, and laugh and live with power on your head. I think I found out that I hated you just enough to want to kill you during the rest of the night. That’s what I want to say, but I don’t.

“Oh, I was just distracted, but I’m here now.” His eyes weirdly widen and then squint as if searching for the truth, and for a second there I think he finds it under, deep beneath, my gaze, but then he holds on to my fingers and brushes my thumb as if nothing happened.

“Well, then are you as tired as me? If not, you can still convince me to accompany you on one of your night walks. Why do you never invite your husband to your fun nightly adventures?” I halt my steps at that and double down into a horrendous fit of laughter…just to cover the astonishment that his statement caused me. He must know what truly runs beneath me, not love for him or even a sense of duty towards this marriage, but deep-rooted hatred and coveting for the power that he has.

“Next time, I promise. Only if you wake up. But, tonight I’m, quite frankly, tired.”

He gives me a wink and holds on to my hand as we continue our walk to our chambers. A necessary silent walk, that gives me time to think of all, yet not all passes through my mind, actually nothing other than two words: KILL HIM. It scares me to the point that when we enter our chamber, I’m shivering. Weren’t you supposed to feel such remorseful feelings toward someone that did horrible things to you? Why do I feel this for someone who has done nothing wrong to me? ...

As we pull the blanket over our legs, he turns to face me, his broad and tan

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chest facing me. I see it and I feel as if I reached for it, I could pull out his beating heart. No. I shouldn’t think of such a thing and yet I do.

“I’ll hold you to that promise.”

“What?”

“The promise of the night walks.” I stare at his eyes, gray like the clouds in a storm, preventing you from seeing anything beyond.

“Oh, of course.” He smiles and pulls me into his arms, warmth runs through my skin, yet I only feel cold through my veins.

“Aza?” “Hmm?” He never answered, his eyes were shut tightly and yet his grip remained strong. And so now that his eyes, the most dreadful things, left me alone, my thoughts began to haunt me.

KILL HIM BEFORE HE MAKES YOU LOVE HIM. POWER. HATE. KILL HIM. I pull slightly away and find my eyes straying towards the night table right next to my head, searching for a glass of water to cool down my mind. Yet, the night table is where I have a butter knife I used earlier to cut a sealed letter open sent by my father. Yet, the letter nor the glass of water call my attention, the knife does. The simple silver butter knife. Harmless. Then I look back at him and it no longer seems so harmless.

My hand…my arm, I can’t tell but something pushed it into my hand and out of nowhere it seemed to have engraved meaning into my actions. I felt something running inside me, something stronger than my yearning for power, stronger than myself and so strong that I can’t stop it. So I get close to where his heart is and hold the butter knife pointing towards it. I halt.

In that instant, his eyes open wide, yet he doesn’t even look at the knife, he looks at me, he looks at my eyes, he looks into my soul. He doesn’t seem scared, he knew, must've known all along.

“Do it, Aza. You know you want to do it.”

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MARIE SCHWARZ

CLASS OF 2023

“No” “It’s fine. I want you to do it.”

“What?”

"You think power is all that. Be thankful you don’t have it. Power is disgusting, it turns you into a monster. So go ahead, kill me, without me at least you won’t turn into a monster.”

“What?”

“What. What. What do you not understand?” He whisper-screams. “I knew all along, but I loved you so much, I wanted you so much that I ignored that I would be the damnation of you. I pulled you into this, I made you addicted to power because only I had it and that made me feel as if you wanted me or at least a part of me and that was enough, at least back then. But, I want all of you, not bits and pieces, I want you to love me, all of me, not just my power, but the longer I stay here, the longer your gaze turns hateful and not covetfull. I don’t wish that for you and I don’t want to lose you, so you have to lose me.” A single tear falls down my cheek as my hand holding the knife shakes violently. He holds it and touches the tip of the knife to the skin above his heart. “Thank you, you are doing more good to me than I ever did to you. I’m sorry I pulled you into this, I’m sorry you had to see that power isn’t worth your tears.” With his remaining hand, he cups my cheek and kisses my tears away, that now fall freely like rain.

“No–” “Yes,” I look into his eyes, and even after all this I still can’t find it in me to erase the fact that I'm ruined. I would do anything for power and I won’t lie to myself any longer, I will do it, but he loved me? All this time I denied it, but he did. All of it was real and I denied it and for that, I was ruined. He tried to save me, he could’ve, if I had simply opened my heart to him, but now– “By you, I’m forever undone, Aza” That’s the last I heard of him. The last words uttered and the words that showed me that I lost; I lost him and I lost myself.

I never got to love you, Rory, but by you, I’m forever undone, too.

Art by Sara Daggak

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EMILIE MENDOZA

CLASS OF 2024

MONSTERS When you were little, you investigated every shadow in your bedroom before going to bed. It was a skill you would one day grow out of. You were scared of the dark but couldn’t sleep with a nightlight. You felt like you were watched when you could still see, as you would recount later in your life. Your childhood was insignificant. You lived in a house of quiet, for it needed to be quiet to accommodate the investigation your father was constantly pursuing.

When the house went from the two of you to only you, that silence should’ve gone away. You should’ve left the nest and grown up. Instead, you became caretaker of your father’s demons. You sang them lullabies and knitted them sweaters. When they hit you, all you ever did was put ice on your bruises and fold into yourself. The windows and doors weren’t locked from the outside, but they might as well have been.

You later talked about your father's style of parenting. He educated you. Taught you, not how to write, but how to use a typewriter, and you never learned to correct your own typos. He taught you his type of history and his type of science. Perhaps he feared science itself. You never got the chance to ask, but it wouldn’t have mattered either way. He had instilled in you from a young age the knowledge that asking questions was never acceptable.

You didn’t know much about your father, did you? You didn’t know he was a geneticist. You didn’t know the basement was where he created new life. You didn’t know where he disappeared off to when he finally did. The only hint you ever got of his true self was an audio recording he left where he told you he loved you and you thought it was fake.

You should’ve never gone into the basement. You should’ve stayed little and afraid. You crept down the stairs and found yourself in a room of academic papers and abandoned research. None of what you found made sense to you, so you went back to your monsters, and they clawed you apart until you had to

EMILIE MENDOZA

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CLASS OF 2024

take a sledgehammer to them and run out onto the street barefoot until you couldn’t run anymore.

People tried to figure you out. They all failed. Interview after interview, no one else understood what your story was. Quite possibly because you yourself didn’t understand it. Some days it still feels like you’re that lonely girl in a house of bloodstained walls and a body hanging in the basement. Some days, it still feels like those grotesque monsters managed to fit themselves into your skin so they could ruin you further.

Regardless, you are an adult now. And mere hours ago, you investigated every shadow in your bedroom before going to bed.

Art by Paula Aguilar

PAGE 33

BEN CODIRLA

CLASS OF 2023

LA MOSCA La mosca andaba dando vueltas desde el día antepasado, y era lo único verdaderamente vivo dentro del cuarto húmedo. Las paredes carecían de cualquier color y la cal, ya cansada de una vida estéril, desesperadamente se despejaba de la pesadumbre gris y caía al piso, feliz en la muerte. Las tarimas no solo servían de ataúd para escombros, sino para la multitud de cucarachas y polillas quienes, aún su resiliencia infame, no podían soportar la gran pesadumbre que impregnaba la habitación. Esta estaba poblada por no más que un sofá marrón de tela gastada, verde en partes no por diseño sino por aglomeraciones de musgo que letárgicamente hinchaban sobre la superficie, una nevera que vibraba de ansia y que al pasar cada hora se estremecía con la llegada de un nuevo ciclo eléctrico, y una mesa carcomida por termitas. Al lado de la nevera había una puerta, cuyas bisagras habían sido superadas por la gravedad, que servía como un portal a un baño de peor condición que el cuarto antecedente. Sobre la mesa antigua solamente existía una máquina de escribir con varias hojas insertadas, amarilla del óxido en su vejez y dolorida por sobreuso: cada vez que una tecla se apretada, la máquina lanzaba un graznido petrificante.

El amo de esta vieja máquina estaba encaramado sobre el sofá, en un estado igualmente gastado que su mueble, casi momificado por una capa de mugre: el resultado de no haberse bañado en semanas. Era un hombre de cuarenta y cinco años, un número no adivinable debido a la decadencia de su rostro. Su cabello era el gris de una casa devastada por un incendio, cuyas cenizas estaban pegadas a su escalpo entre cada folículo cubierto con un revestimiento de grasa. Sus ojos eran dos vórtices negros en un océano de arrugas y cicatrices - marcas de una vida de pelea - y en ellos se notaba la ausencia de su alma. Su nariz era prominente y delgada, su único rasgo todavía joven, solitario en la escultura lúgubre que habitaba, y una semilla comparada con la boca marchita sobre la que se sentaba. Las extremidades del hombre moribundo estaban en un estado igualmente lamentable que su cara: eran frágiles y óseos, y la piel que los cubría se estiraba tanto que estaba a punto de torcerse en las articulaciones. Esos brazos quebradizos se estrechaban sobre la máquina de

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BEN CODIRLA

CLASS OF 2023

escribir, y los dedos que se extendían de ellos, cada uno más definido por la decadencia que el último, martillaron contra las teclas con una fuerza que no se esperaba de ellos. Con cada contacto, la mosca se exasperaba más, y daba otra vuelta al cuarto sin rumbo.

Ya nadie se recordaba del hombre sentado en el sofá podrido, y él lo sabía. La única alma que le daba el más minucioso grano de respeto era el insecto infernal que rondaba su habitación; su compadre en el abismo. El manuscrito frente a él era lo único que lo sostenía. Era la posibilidad del reconocimiento, la esperanza que un amor perdido renaciera tras su publicación. El hombre se acordaba de los días de su juventud en que las palabras confusas que había imprimido contra las hojas que le miraban fijamente no existían, ni necesitaban existir; días en que lo vacío no había sido manchado con salpicaduras de tinta ininteligible.

Escuchaba la risa de su familia, de sus amigos, de cuyos conscientes él había desaparecido hacía mucho tiempo, en los cuales, si todavía existía, era como una aparición efímera. Soñaba desesperadamente en poder florecer una vez más en las imaginaciones de otros, y de dejar de existir como un fantasma entre parásitos y paredes decaídas: soñaba en la felicidad sin la escritura. Sin embargo, él estaba seguro de que sus hojas eran lo único que lo llevarían a reconciliar su larga vida de fracasos, y, sometido en sus esfuerzos de crear una obra valiosa, entró en un estupor solo interrumpido por el zumbido constante de la mosca.

El hombre estaba perdido en un desierto. Por donde miraba, la arena se extendía hacia el horizonte y en la distancia vio dunas gigantescas sobresalir de la tierra. En sus oídos podía escuchar un silbido perturbador y constante de las alas de un insecto, pero no pudo ubicar su origen. Estaba en un océano de oro, con más granos finos que átomos en su cuerpo, completamente desprovisto de cualquier tono de azul. Fue entonces, después de analizar su ambiente, que notó su sed insaciable. Buscó un oasis con sus ojos para satisfacer su deseo intolerable de tomar agua, y al no divisar ni siquiera una gota, decidió caminar por la tierra de oro en búsqueda de agua. Con cada paso que tomó, otra tecla más se apretó, y otro estremecimiento más fue producido en la mosca.

Chorros de sudor caían de su frente mientras que el hombre proseguía con su camino, el sol iracundo impidiéndole el paso y la satisfacción, sus rayos

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BEN CODIRLA

CLASS OF 2023

penetradores quemando su piel con omnipotencia. Se sentía como un candelabro con grasa despojándose de su cuerpo, goteando de su cara y de su estómago, haciéndolo más óseo que nunca. Su sed ya no era soportable como antes: mientras no encontraba agua la calentura lo iba destrozando, secando sus órganos y devorando su energía. Sentía que sus pasos eran erráticos: su mente ya no controlaba sus extremidades desmadejadas, las cuales tropezaban entre sí y no podían soportar su cuerpo. Cada pisada torpe se trasladó a una confusión sintáctica en los dedos que operaban la máquina de escribir: las teclas se iban martillando con órdenes inconcebibles. Las palabras formadas por la máquina ya perdieron todo sentido, y, sobre las páginas se destacó un dialecto desconocido. Debajo de tanta presión, la reliquia maquinaria empezó a deshacerse, gimiendo como no lo había hecho antes y no lo llegaría a hacer más, y con estos gritos de dolor, la mosca se iba enloqueciendo, el ritmo de su vuelo alterado sin remedio, experimentando un cambio constante.

Dando gritos en el plano estéril, debajo del sol implacable, el hombre sintió que su corazón estaba subiendo por su garganta. Ya no podía caminar más: el calor le causó un cansancio inmovilizador, y le había dejado sin un gramo de exceso en su cuerpo: ya era compuesto de no más que sus huesos oxidados y su piel acartonada, la cual estaba a punto de desbaratarse, pintando las inmaculadas arenas de un rojo sanguinolento. Daba puños al aire, tratando de vengarse de una manera de su opresor. El brillo del desierto aumentó su sufrimiento: sus ojos no soportaban una vista tan angelical como ese matiz en su delirio, y terminó rascándose los ojos para poder escapar de la crueldad del mundo.

Mientras que sangraban las cuencas de sus ojos, la tinta chorreaba sobre las hojas una vez nítidas, contornando los disparates estampados por las garras del hombre, quien se enloquecía en otro mundo, y el zumbido del insecto se agrandó a un estruendoso alarido.

El hombre cayó al suelo, ya ciego por su propio daño, y vomitó. Primero salió saliva de su boca, un fluido transparente y viscoso que se mezcló con la arena, después sangre, oscura y podrida, y finalmente su corazón terminó palpitando levemente en sus manos.

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BEN CODIRLA

CLASS OF 2023

Ya muerto, los ojos negros del hombre se avivaron por primera vez en meses, y se encontró frente a su mesa carcomida, su nevera temblante y su sofá podrido.

La mosca seguía dando vueltas por el cuarto. Mirando hacia su manuscrito, el hombre vio la tinta corrida por las hojas, y detrás de ella, las palabras indescifrables. Su tiquete al mundo externo, su vía a los corazones de quienes lo olvidaron estaba destrozado por sus manos. Una cólera inexplicable lo superó y con una fuerza que él no debiese haber tenido, arrancó su manuscrito y lo desgarró con el mismo odio que usó para cegarse en el desierto. La tinta grotesca voló por el aire y salpicó el piso y sus residentes muertos, rezumando sobre los cadáveres de las cucarachas descompuestas. La mosca se congeló en el aire y observó al furibundo desalmado.

Cuando el enojo del hombre disminuyó, sólo quedaba una hoja blanca en la máquina de escribir. Él la examinó con la mirada de un niño observando el cadáver de una rana que apedreó – cuyos intestinos sobresalen de una herida en su estómago, los cuales forman una sopa de fluidos corporales - debido a una curiosidad insaciable, ocultando su vergüenza, y justificando sus acciones. La blancura de la página le trajo recuerdos de su juventud una vez más: recuerdos de las risas olvidadas y las caras atesoradas. El hombre, superado nuevamente por su debilidad, recogió el papel y lo trajo justo en frente de su nariz, el único bastión de la juventud que le quedaba en su rostro. Usando su olfato, examinó el vació de la página. La belleza de la simplicidad inocente lo llenó de una felicidad increíble. Una vez más se sintió caer dentro de un estupor, pero esta vez no era un desierto estéril, sino un paraíso. inmaculada.

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BEN CODIRLA

CLASS OF 2023

El olor lo sometió. A su alrededor, el hombre vio palmeras rodeando a un lago con aguas cristalinas y puras, y encima de todo un arcoíris de colores fantásticos. El hombre se sintió rejuvenecido, y antes de explorar su nuevo ambiente, trató de oír el zumbido que lo había perseguido, pero no lo encontró. La hoja blanca fue cuidadosamente dejada sobre la mesa, y sellada, lista para la entrega final del manuscrito. La mosca, que por días había dado vueltas sobre el cuarto, finalmente murió, y en sus momentos finales, cayó sobre la hoja

Art by Mariana Robles

Art by Antonia Guerra

Poetry

EE N N G G LL II S S H H

PAGE 39

JORGE ALCEDO

CLASS OF 2023

Bubbles We are born in bubble wrap, set to live in a trap Wrap ourselves with bubbles and float into the night Wrapped inside our bubbles we’ll never truly fight As any pain we suffer will bounce into the night Wrapped up in our bubbles we can only see the light And any evil that can haunt us will fight the bubbles might We have never felt the cold as a warm embrace surrounds us Floating as if the world revolved around us Wrapped up in our lies as the crumbling world surrounds us Do my bubble tears deceive you? as they pop down by your feet My bubble tears will hide my bubble sins Do my bubble laughs annoy you? As they pop down by my grin Hope my bubble laugh is not shattered by the grim Bubbles that can lift us will one day bring us down Bursting from our bubbles is what waits for us beneath Our godly mighty bubbles will burst up as we frown Wrapped ourselves in bubbles to float into the night As fear fills up our bubbles we will fall into demise

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JORGE ALCEDO

CLASS OF 2023

Wrapped up in our own bubble fears Nothing to protect the shameful bubble tears Falling from our bubbles we can no longer see the light How could we let our bubbles burst into the night Will we let these needles haunt our bubble mind Or will we fight against them with all our bubble might Was the wrap a prison or our only saving light?

Wrapped in our bubbles our ignorance was bliss But if we live trapped in our bubbles have we ever truly lived?

Art by Julia Choi

ENRIQUE JUN FERREIRA

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CLASS OF 2023

International Law Soldiers in a war, acting like they’re not pawns in a game of clown chess While the kings are too busy playing Monopoly You don’t pay taxes in Monopoly. It’s so realistic for them Unionize this, unionize that, like Britain didn’t effectively kill protests while flying the Union Jack Seriously, google it. It’s the Police, Crime, Sentencing and Courts Bill You can find it online. Take note, it’s bills.parliament.uk/bills/2839 White man this, white man that, like Obama didn’t approve 542 drone strikes Not that white presidents were much better. Patriot Act anyone? Tapping into people’s phones?

Interfering in foreign elections? The US did it to Bolivia 3 times. ‘64 ‘66 and 2002

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ENRIQUE JUN FERREIRA

CLASS OF 2023

Immigrants this, immigrants that, like Canada wasn’t genociding natives until 1996 Residential schools, thousands of deaths, and it went on until after Toy Story hit cinemas If you were around when Power Rangers began you were alive when these schools were open Take a walk through nature, pretend species aren’t dying in the Amazon forest Pretend workers don’t die in Amazon warehouses, like on December 10th, 2021 And how did Amazon get 4.7 billion dollars? Subsidies I could go on and on, but I’ll make the rest of the list short China? Tiananmen square. Russia? Ukraine. Israel? Or is it Palestine?

All these governments sanctioned.

But enough with all that. Let’s be a bit abstract Because I don’t have the time to list everything So what I say next, apply it how you will

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ENRIQUE JUN FERREIRA

Both sides want to be in control Deciding which way to go, either way it’s slow Right or left I just know they advance with no plans The solutions the propose are technical And may work theoretically But in practice it’s done performatively Enormous performance Only in their technology Which they use to invade our privacy Ignoring the feedback On promises they go back It should be clear that they’re all hacks It’s not just a possibility It’s a dangerous reality They’re the only ones that benefit from their policy It’s clear the status quo has got to go Because it’s just desolation, persecution, prosecution Political relations and collusions

CLASS OF 2023

ENRIQUE JUN FERREIRA

PAGE 44

So if you make a resolution to be part of the evolution Of this revolution, it’s a fight you can’t lose Because when you choose to help in the dissolution of institutions Remember, it’s illegal.

Art by Ana Paola Henne

CLASS OF 2023

MAYA GREEN

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CLASS OF 2024

Past, Present, Perfect There was once a girl who had everything.

She had straight hair and long legs.

A perky nose with a pearling white smile, and not a pimple in sight.

She was photogenic with a proper picture pose A perfect girl with a perfect life.

She was a bright pupil, Well-liked by her professors And she was popular With the jocks, the jokers, the joiners.

She never used her presence for evil, Never performed for fame Her laugh was like the praise of a dove Her time was a well-sought pearl Precious This perfect girl with a perfect life.

She was a star, Who never sat alone.

At noon, she migrated through the cafeteria Soothing those who sought her approval with a purchase in hand For a perfect girl with a perfect life always paid, never brought

PAGE 46

MAYA GREEN

CLASS OF 2024

Two parents with paying professions Loved her as parents do They were lucky, they claimed, to have a prize daughter A pre-law brother A promising younger sister A family portrait presiding over the fireplace like a trophy A family of five with perky noses and pearling white smiles And she was a perfect girl with a perfect life Practice makes perfect, or so the saying goes The perfect girl with a perfect life practices powdering her perky nose, posting her pearling white smile, and pimpleless face The photogenic, proper picture pose, popular pupil Using her presence for right Never preening or performing under the spotlight A perfect girl with a perfect life Yet within the perfect girl grew a pugnacious monster For perfect is just a prosthetic, an artificial replacement She longed to mess up, fall down, give up Her hair to tangle, zits to sprout To blink in a photo or frown in a picture Laugh at an improper joke And step on an ant without feeling like a killer Buy something useless and be a material girl in a material world A perfect girl with a perfect life

PAGE 47

MAYA GREEN

CLASS OF 2024

She wished to be powerless in the prejudice society where perfect is the standard Perfect is the goal But perfect is flawed because being perfect is pathetic Leading a life of punctual arrivals around pompous people with pre-law degrees Perfect this and perfect that Poised by the portal to the untraveled world of flaws and mistakes, Waits the perfect girl with the perfect life A patient princess pushing the im- down under her pulse Prisoned in her tower of perfection For a prince to climb her hair Kiss her awake Yet, AWAKE is the monster Impatient, imperfect Pistol raised, ready to punch Through the perfection AWAKE is the perfect girl with a perfect life Pretending to be someone she’s not A promise, a prayer

MAYA GREEN

PAGE 48

The presence of past perfect is finished Knowledge is privilege Perfection is preposterous The perfect girl with the perfect life Is imperfect with flaws and mistakes, Pimples and All the glory realization makes There is a girl who has everything.

Art by Alexa Paredes

CLASS OF 2024

PAGE 49

FRANCESCA CALVOSA, HAILEY JENSEN

A “Normal” Relationship Can we take a minute to talk today?

Okay I hold your hand; you push it away Huh You never listen to what I say Uh Gees, put down the remote and look my way?

I love you a lot, but it seems to me That what you really want is to just be free The neglect I get is wearing on me And I’m tired of ending up feeling lonely * Rolls eyes * Oh my gosh, really, just stop already!

What do you expect me to say?

I hear the same complaints day after day You are a true nightmare You should've just stayed upstairs!

You sure pick your moments, like right now When the Rams are on their fourth down!

CLASS OF 2024

PAGE 50

FRANCESCA CALVOSA, HAILEY JENSEN

I get that you think I suck (no, I don’t) You hate my friends, you hate my truck I don’t listen, I don’t care (that’s not what I said) Next to your old boyfriend, I can’t compare!

Knock it off-for once can we talk about what is real?

You get mad so you can avoid hearing what’s true To the fact that you can grow and change too That this the relationship isn’t all about you That there are things that I wish you knew Is it me? Am I to blame?

You know for you I would ruin myself Isn't that enough?

Can you stop being caught up in all your stuff?

Okay, I get it; I know you’re right And I do love you and don’t want to fight I want to change and make amends, but please-Can it wait until the Superbowl ends?

CLASS OF 2024

PAGE 51

FRANCESCA CALVOSA, HAILEY JENSEN

I speak out but all that he can see Is that I’m criticizing who he wants to be Guys and girls always seems to end this way Women complain . . . and men run away

Art by Daniela Castillo

CLASS OF 2024

MELIS AYHAN

PAGE 52

CLASS OF 2024

Humanity Is Screwed Global warming wasn’t without warning There were informings and warnings well i guess we were not learning.

We forget the waters are rising our wilds are waning Our world wears away while we remain weary I wonder, when will we wake, willing to fight for a revolution worth dying for?

Will we fix our mistakes or commit more?

Will we ignore or restore our forests to how they once were? abundant and adored?

‘Chill’ they say While natural disasters occur everyday ‘How unfortunate’ they say While the whole worlds in disarray But hey! We can’t think past today BUT HEY! A hurricane’s already under way And the world is on fire but they say Chill And there’s more Still

Art by Hailey Jensen

MELIS AYHAN

PAGE 53

CLASS OF 2024

While everything dies Do we forget this earth is what keeps us alive?

Open your eyes If we keep trashing the place will any species survive?

Can you hear the earth’s cries?

As endless hurricanes, wildfires, and floods are cast Don’t let ignorance be a disguise Clothe yourself with knowledge and run fast The world runs out of time, but you walk out of time We think man vs the world or world vs man When instead it’s been us and the world against time Will you run with earth or walk as time eats us up from behind?

Will we nurture nature like it once nurtured us not long ago? will people stop polluting our planet, put our power together and participate to protect our land?

There’s no planet b or c or d But I can’t help but believe Humans will come together one day Put their differences behind them, for the long run, one day Save our planet before it’s too late Think: hey it’s time to make a difference today And that’ll be the day where I smile and say Humanity is saved

ISABELLA GONZALEZ

PAGE 54

CLASS OF 2023

HALF FULL, HALF EMPTY The water dripping of our face before our misery starts again While our sadness starts with our days to school Their story begins with the struggle for food We neglect our happiness Wishing for something grand Like cars and earrings, or diamonds that are brighter than the stars But then we have them That are happy with what they have They could look at the sunset And feel full with that Raising their hearts to reach to the sky Looking for hope, so that the pain could stop The voices of our parents before the day starts that echoes annoyance in our hearts We deny our parents what they wish for us Just to spend time, go for food or even the mall Maybe we are just ungrateful We don’t have consideration at all

PAGE 55

ISABELLA GONZALEZ

But While we are here complaining about our lives Their bodies embrace the disgrace With the familiar suffering Holding on to the hunger of the night Wishing their lives to be different, They begin their minds with little hope seeing us with the eyes of envy, trying to cope Our lives are very different From the winter to the fall The way I a trip to Bangkok Is the way they see a gift as simple as a rock But how will I know My head is foreign to their hearts Maybe I shouldn’t compare Maybe I don’t know how they are At the end, they live their lives to the fullest For us, with only a window where we can watch Holding every moment, cherish it, it will prove us mad

CLASS OF 2023

PAGE 56

ISABELLA GONZALEZ

But I am just a teen And lifestyles are not default Maybe they are happy Maybe we are not.

Maybe I will see one day What i am truly missing But for now I hold their lives to a pedestal To know how to appreciate live Because they may have less than us But they have way more to strive

CLASS OF 2023

EMILIE MENDOZA

PAGE 57

CLASS OF 2024

For Homer Have you ever read the Odyssey? It’s fine if you haven’t. You will eventually. For now, I’ll give you a quick one-sentence summary.

The Odyssey follow Odysseus, obviously, on his odyssey home.

It’s an epic, meaning it’s a poem with rhythm and rhyme, even if its musicality has been largely lost to time.

(You know, since Ancient Greek is a dead language.)

Nowadays we read it as a book, but there’s something important that is kept. When Homer begins his epic tale, he invokes the whispers in the wind who carve out creativity from the minds of simple people like you or I. He says, or maybe she since some historians speculate that he might’ve been she though that is neither here not there, he says “O divine poesy, Goddess-daughter of Zeus, Sustain for me This song of the various-minded man…” and then continues on to describe Odysseus and his obvious odyssey, ending it finally with “Make the tale live for us In all its many bearings, O Muse.”

PAGE 58

EMILIE MENDOZA

CLASS OF 2024

The ancients told stories through oral tradition, but this one was different. This one was turned into something concrete, when so many others weren’t. History only becomes a solid when it is written, and history is often written by the victors, though victor is such a subjective descriptor that it barely has any meaning. History is written by those who choose to write stories, whether consciously or subconsciously, whether manually or digitally. So someday in sometime, someone will find your story and they may think to be fictional myth or they may think it to be true but whatever the case they will think of how you invoked your own Muses from the world around you every time you assigned value to a jumble of letters.

So, Make the tale live for us In all its many bearings, O Muse.

Art by Uxia Reyes

PAGE 59

CAMILO PEREZ TRIANA

I Don’t Know What To Write I don’t know what to write I’ve been having trouble for many days, Not knowing what to say, Trying to put my mind on to my hand, And my thoughts into my pen.

I don’t know what to write, I just need some more time, I could write something “heartfelt”, But I’ll know that I lied, Disappointed in myself that I hadn’t tried.

Emotions are difficult, They come and they go, Why can’t I find them now? I’ll never know.

I need them right now!

Where have they gone?!

Haven’t seen them for days, Dusk nor dawn.

Damn you emotions, You tricky bastards!

If only you could get to me faster.

CLASS OF 2024

PAGE 60

CAMILO PEREZ TRIANA

CLASS OF 2024

II don’t know what to write!

Now I am here, Feeling the burn of your eyes, Staring at me expecting something, But I have nothing, I CAN’T write.

No! Yes, I can, Look at me!

I’m the man!

I don’t need a sob story, That stuff gets boring,

Art by Brian Chen

I’ll do something fun!

I’ll make you laugh and be happy, You’ll see that it’s never been done.

I will say what I think and write what I know, Keeping my expectations low, working and trying so finally one day, I can look up to the world and say, I can write!

ANIKA MULLEN

PAGE 61

CLASS OF 2024

I Like High School I think high school is fun, In ten years, I look forward to our reunion and talking about how our old selves are gone, I like high school, I won't ever admit I'm lying, You won't believe me anyway, Because it’s just teenagers, They said she cried wolf due to his rumors, They didn't believe her, Because it’s just teenagers, But it’s not just her, That guy over there also said no, And they laughed, Because he is not only a teenager but a guy, Of course, that's the stereotype, I don't want to deal with all these petty politics, I want to leave it in a pretty box labeled conflicts, I can't because the world around me yells, I have to speak up, I do and they laugh, Because I'm a teenager, It’s a phase, Being gay, Such a cliche they say, What can I do?

PAGE 62

ANIKA MULLEN

She is only 15, She likes high school, She has learned so much, Yet she is so confused, Maybe it’s because she is a teenager, She can’t keep up, I can explain it to her, Cover up, Not that much though, Don't be so quiet, Express yourself, Don't sound mean though because no one asked, You can always say no, Just don't be so stuck up, Relax, Be careful, He is cute, Don't be such a slut, Eat less, Boys like a girl who has some meat on her bones, Just stop, Be mindless, You're being mindless wrong, Life isn't hard, You're just a teenager

CLASS OF 2024

PAGE 63

ANIKA MULLEN

He is only 16, He thinks high school is fun, He has learned so much, Yet he is so confused, Maybe it’s because he is a teenager, He can’t keep up, I explain it to him, Boys don't cry, Don't be so cold, You are allowed to say no, Stop, You’ll sound gay, Be strong, Don't ever be weak, Relax, Don't let yourself go, Just stop, Be mindless, You're being mindless wrong, Life isn't hard, You're just a teenager

CLASS OF 2024

PAGE 64

ANIKA MULLEN

CLASS OF 2024

I was 13, Only in middle school, I wish someone had explained it to me, I was so confused, Every thought in my head went a thousand miles per second, No time to scream for help, Every day was the same, You’re too loud, Your laugh is weird, Is the mirror broken?

I don't know what I look like, Why am I being told to cover up?

I have to be smaller, I have to be prettier, Stop trying so hard, I’m fine, That's a lie, Why am I being told to cover up?

Why is this happening to me?

My life wasn't hard, I was now a teenager

PAGE 65

ANIKA MULLEN

I was 14, I was still so confused, I wish someone would've explained it to me, The thoughts went a thousand miles per second, I’m not good enough, I shouldn’t eat this, I’m not gay, Am I? Why don’t they like me?

I’m too quiet, People are scary, Dad I’m sorry I disappointed you, Mom, Mom, Why does mom hate me?

The guilt flows through me, Can I cut it out?

I need to be perfect, I need to be an adult, I want to go back, I’m ruined, I’m weak, That one day, That one day, That one day, That time I couldn't protect myself, I was asleep, Satan woke me up, Flaming hands burning my skin, Why couldn't I scream?

I was just a teenager, I didn't know what to think about life anymore

CLASS OF 2024

PAGE 66

ANIKA MULLEN

II’m now 15, I’m in high school now, I’m trying to understand, I’m trying to make an explanation, I’m trying to recover, But they will always tell me, Life isn’t hard, You’re just a teenager I like high school, I like seeing my friends, I like being a teenager, Up until it becomes a wager.

To never know if I’m doing what’s right, We’re too old to be kids but too young for adults, So, they cast us away, Never meet us halfway, Associate our interests with child’s play but don’t support us, When we make mistakes, We are too old for that, The world is full of dumb stereotypes in which people have to suffer, But what do I know?

I’m just a teenager

CLASS OF 2024

EE S S P P A A Ñ Ñ O O LL

PAGE 68

JUAN CARLOS CHAIA

Fiebre de saqueador Reyes de la masacre escondida, la lotería que nunca se pierde, plantan fruto amarillo y verde, trastornando a la costa perdida.

Exuberantes son sus ornamentos, los agentes libres de sospecha, su crueldad disfrazada con seguridad en sus cimientos.

Ríen en nuestra feria, comparten nuestra comida, su vil consciencia carcomida, se alimenta de nuestra miseria.

Arriman sus barcos en el poblado, plantan sus raíces en nuestro hogar, voraz sanguijuela para desaguar, al paraíso empobrecido y tronado.

CLASS OF 2023

PAGE 69

JUAN CARLOS CHAIA

Insomnio La gran oscuridad consumidora, que a tantos transporta a otro plano, engendra el ser de energía temprano, y enaltece mi alma trabajadora.

Mi pueblo de semblante laborioso, no conoce cotidiano reposo, sufre una peste de eficacia, se consumará una consecuencia.

El turbador hechizo del olvido, se aproxima sin cuidar su paso, pronto atando su dañoso lazo, deteriorando al mayor sentido. ¿Cómo seguiremos sin el recuerdo?

Hoy señalo las cosas con el dedo, las remarco con la pluma, hasta que descanse en la tumba.

CLASS OF 2023

ANDREA MALEK

PAGE 70

Carpe Diem Vamos a hacer lo más que podemos​ No importa si hay problemas​ Ya que solo caos es lo que tenemos​ Rompamos las normas a nuestras maneras​ Ya que sabemos​ Que no importa las personas​ Nunca cambiaremos​ Nuestras fuerzas​

Locus Amenus Lo más bello que he visto​ Aunque lo mantengo en secreto​ Quiero compartirlo, pero, yo no puedo​ Ya que te retrocedo con un suspiro​ Solo con decirle a un alma​ Desaparece tu panorama​ Cuanto quisiera que fuera diferente​ Pero no puedo dejarte disponible

CLASS OF 2025

MANUEL SPIEGEL

PAGE 71

CLASS OF 2025

Locus Amenus La playa mi primer amor mi primer vicio ​ La primera ves que fui fue un beneficio ​ El mar, la arena, las palmeras y los cocos ​ Es lo único que necesito para pasar tiempos locos.

Decima Estoy perdido en el amor ​ Sin ellas no puedo vivir​ Cuando me toca elegir​ Siento mucho dolor​ A las dos soy acogedor​ Si me alejo no me busquen​ Espero que no se asusten​ A Ambas les tengo pasión ​ Mejor hagan votación​ Porque no se deciden

Art by Hailey Jensen

MILAN COHEN

PAGE 72

CLASS OF 2025

Julieta Perfección no es mi meta La vida es muy corta para eso Solamente quiero estar contigo, Julieta Y mi amor por ti expreso No necesito una mansión Ni plata, ni un carro, ni comida Solamente quiero tu corazón Y te amaré por toda mi vida

Mi Hogar La naturaleza es mi hogar Allí es donde quiero estar Con los animales jugaré El sol y la luna amaré En la naturaleza estoy feliz Viendo las flores creciendo de su raíz Amo escapar para estar aquí La naturaleza es el lugar para mí

Art by Ms.Moreno

PRAHLAD KHATWANI

PAGE 73

Beatus Ille Poseidón me envió a un campo, lejos de la ciudad, al principio me senti abandonado, pero empiezo a divertirme teniendo flexibilidad.

Collige, Virgo, Rosas Recoge las rosas, antes de que sea demasiado tarde, no seas cobarde, son rosas preciosas.

CLASS OF 2025

FRANCESCA DESOGUS, EMILIE MENDOZA

PAGE 74

CLASS OF 2024

Oda al Ahogado Una mujer recién casada, peleando y gritando a su marido Escapa por tres meses y se encuentra un desconocido Desde ese momento, de mujer se convirtió en mito.

Un hijo nació, pero su mente se llenó de locura Llorando por un difunto hijo que vivo sigue Josefina muere pensando ser la Tulivieja falsamente.

El niño creció y los adultos encontraron en él un talento con la palabra.

Sus composiciones y poemas movieron los sentimientos De los que soñaban con su futuro brillante Su canto y su pintura lo hicieron artista Destinado para la fama, era lo que todos lo consideraban Y sus logros lo llevaron fuera de su Bocas del Toro.

Encontró remedio en los brazos de las damas.

Cada noche otra persona estaba en su cama.

Sus sentimientos compartía falsamente.

Y todas las mujeres en su mente, tenían fecha de vencimiento vigente.

A las pobres que escapaban los alcances de su amor.

Desgracia desciende sobre su roto corazón.

PAGE 75

FRANCESCA DESOGUS, EMILIE MENDOZA

CLASS OF 2024

A la temprana edad de diecisiete, le temía a la guadaña de la muerte.

Su vida citadina abandonó, por los cuidados bocatoreños.

Un testamento escribió, para sus deseos ingenuos.

Murió sonriendo, ya que esperaba su fallecimiento.

Con la muerte espontánea, la carrera se culminó.

Después de un tiempo ya no estaba corriendo, había completado su fin.

Art by Mr.Young

PAGE 76

FRESHMAN CLASS

HAMILTON SCHOOL MUSICAL

CLASS OF 2025

PAGE 77

FRESHMAN CLASS

CLASS OF 2025

2022 Graduation

Convocation Written by Jillian Kneeland Good afternoon y buenas tardes To the Board of Directors, to Mr. Durbin, And Mrs. Mendoza.

A todas las familias, padres, teachers, and friends, And most importantly, To the Balboa Academy graduating Class of 2022.

I’m honored to have been selected to speak to you all today.

In an ironic twist, while I’m saying hello since I’ve been away, I’ve really been asked to come back to say goodbye as the time is nigh For us to send you on your way.

I have a sneaking suspicion why you’ve all asked me up here.

While I’ve been aqui (point to heart), I haven’t been here To witness your senior year Todas las locuras y arranques The headaches I heard you’ve been causing Centeno and Mendo And let’s not get started on Mrs. Ducreux.

Oh yes, I’ve heard the bochinche!

Yeah, you might think that I’m the last person standing who trusts in your humanity Your ingenuity And your promise.

And while you probably haven’t made it easy, I guarantee, there’s still a lot of love for you in this room.

And so teachers, my colleagues and friends, I’ll do my best to capture the words of wisdom y suerte That we hope to send with this special group Who we’ve known is special Back since day one when they walked through our doors.

So special in fact, in this final act, I’ve come to decide, as you may have already realized, To do away with the old graduation speech of bla bla bla, and instead, I thought I’d try my hand at a poem which I started writing in my head When you asked me for the 100th time to just do this thing.

A little self-imposed spite for the poems I used to make you write.

So without further ado, we have a lot of catching up to do.

And I’m going to do my best to honor our memories of you.

But where to begin? I could start in sin.

I could start with the pranks you pulled With your mischievous grin.

I could look back on how you used to forget your shoes Or how when we’d play jeopardy, you’d refuse to lose.

But I’m mostly thinking about your kindness, your humor Your welcoming those who were newer Who joined us online after sudden school closures.

Now, I won’t deny the challenge of our virtual year Our attempts to navigate life despite all of the fear.

But you still showed up day in and day out, Well, most days in and some days out.

And yet, when the cameras were on, I was often still greeted with smiles from ear to ear.

A “Good morning Ms. Kneeland”, An attempt at good cheer.

This demonstrates a determination worthy of mention To thrive and to strive to be the best.

And even when it seems your humility Is overcome by your desire to be better than the rest I know this only goes to show How driven you will be as you leave this all behind And hit the road.

I urge you to carry your passionate spirit with you The spirit that knows all the words to every Arianna Grande song The spirit that throws touchdowns and scores goals The spirit that guided you through flips on the gymnastics mat And taught you languages, idiomas, et langue.

The spirit that beatboxes and designs cosplay And could play guitar and write songs all day.

The spirit that helped you overcome the loss of a loved friend His own spirit never forgotten and never truly gone.

Persistence and drive of this kind Is something I urge you not to leave behind.

I’ve seen it already when you collaborate For a common goal.

Or dive headfirst into an argument Against corruption or immoral control.

I’ve read it in your writing In journals confiding Or in the green futures you were designing.

Yes, you’re one of the most collectively motivated groups I’ve yet come to know Even when it comes down to el ultimo minuto Yeah, ya’ll already know.

And yet pulling through is what you do To knowledge and learning You’ve always been true.

And I know the last few years have been weird Geared towards “keeping you on track” When you just wanted to get back To everything being normal.

I can imagine it didn’t help To have to spend your senior year In a new building, one different From where you were reared.

But when you think back on this rhyme I hope it also helps recall a time.

Of loving, of laughter, of learning, Don’t throw away your time at BA Como un tiempo perdido Don’t let it go with a “thank God it’s over”.

Part of my own learning these days Has been research into worlds of International school alums.

To learn, what is the impact of this space?

And not just some, but all agree In telling me their stories That when it comes down to it, There is so much gratitude For the memories of this place.

They shared how many of their peers en el norte Didn’t have as many teachers who cared.

They shared how they were blessed to have Been saved from ignorance When having to explain that no, they didn’t attend School in huts with monkeys jumping on the roof.

Yes, that will probably happen to you, Because the world has yet to fulfill who It has the potential to become.

And I know the last few years have been weird Geared towards “keeping you on track” When you just wanted to get back To everything being normal.

I can imagine it didn’t help To have to spend your senior year In a new building, one different From where you were reared.

But when you think back on this rhyme I hope it also helps recall a time.

Of loving, of laughter, of learning, Don’t throw away your time at BA Como un tiempo perdido Don’t let it go with a “thank God it’s over”.

Part of my own learning these days Has been research into worlds of International school alums.

To learn, what is the impact of this space?

And not just some, but all agree In telling me their stories That when it comes down to it, There is so much gratitude For the memories of this place.

They shared how many of their peers en el norte Didn’t have as many teachers who cared.

They shared how they were blessed to have Been saved from ignorance When having to explain that no, they didn’t attend School in huts with monkeys jumping on the roof.

Yes, that will probably happen to you, Because the world has yet to fulfill who It has the potential to become.

Your diversity alone is not often found And progress toward unity is often drowned In shallow understandings of the beauty In the differences that shape This big, strange world.

In having navigated an international school Even when you thought it wasn’t cool You are equipped in more ways than one To carry forward respect Comprehension El conocimiento to do what needs to be done.

In a world still fraught with fear Let me make this clear: You are strong, bright, and powerful Even more so than to yourselves, you appear.

You can beat back ridiculous notions Of ethnocentrism and elitism Racism and fascism As long as you compartir The light that shines within you.

And while you are blessed to perhaps Hold many conceptions of home Never forget you graduated in Panama’ Where yes, it seems Some people do live in huts and monkeys do swing from trees Where rampant exists massive inequality.

But it is also the host to so much beauty Beyond the guayacanes, playa, y aguacate trees It is home to the same light that shines within One brillante and akin To what it means to live together, juntos, Underneath the sun.

I’ll wrap this up before I take too much time And I think I’ve gotten a little lost in this rhyme So I’ll try to tie it all together with this: We will miss you. We love you.

And please, don’t look back on us and diss.

Keep an open eye, don’t be afraid to criticize, But realize, when you privilege the power of light And the truth Success will come to you.

Now how to wrap this up?

I think I’ll leave it some peeps who have a bit more skill than me: Antes de que salga el sol Brinda el acelerador Que baile sin freno y pierda el control Nada más seremos dos Tú y yo acariciándonos En medio del tiempo, sin decir adiós.

[Ojitos Lindos - Bad Bunny & Bomba Estereo]

ISSUE 4

JUNE 2022