My Part of Town by Gemini Ink

My Neighborhood My neighborhood is a lovely place. When the night comes everyone is asleep. You can see the school down the street all nice and quiet. It is so bright—the morning. The sun comes up. It shines in my room. Kids having a good time—all the boys and girls are playing together. The boys are playing football whale. The girls and I are cheerleading. Then when the nights come again everyone is in bed. Fire trucks and cops cars whirl going through the night.

Amanda Furstenau, age 14

My Part of Town, Writing by students from Krueger Middle School in the Northeast Independent School District in San Antonio, Texas in partnership with Gemini Ink’s Writers in Communities program. Project funded by the Rackspace Foundation. Writers-in-Residence, Trey Moore, and Lyle D. Rosdahl. Illustrator, Carolina G. Flores. © 2011 Gemini Ink

Morning Jogger Oh, morning jogger, you jog around the neighborhood. Just jogging, nothing else. No science in that. I see you every morning, as I walk to the bus stop. But you’re not alone—you bring your dog along with you. I remember that time your dog approached me. His tail kind of wagged as he sniffed my binder. But you told him to behave, and just took him away… Shame on you, lady. Shame on you. You jogged away, like you always do, And it seems like nothing will stop you. For neither rain, nor snow, nor sleet, nor hail, You’re always there to jog. Around and around you go, basically going nowhere. You jog anyway. Oh, morning jogger.

Ana Ortiz, age 13 My Part of Town, Writing by students from Krueger Middle School in the Northeast Independent School District in San Antonio, Texas in partnership with Gemini Ink’s Writers in Communities program. Project funded by the Rackspace Foundation. Writers-in-Residence, Trey Moore, and Lyle D. Rosdahl. Illustrator, Carolina G. Flores. © 2011 Gemini Ink

Cujo We searched for weeks but we could not find her. The broken wood, the dog running down the street. Made my heart into a slaughterhouse full of cows for weeks. Like the only fish in the sea, I felt so empty. Like a seed in a salad, I just could not feel. But then like words in the alphabet I started to get more feelings again. I felt love, forgiveness, but no more sadness. Like chocolate in Hershey, like the Russians in the Cold War, I felt alive and whole even though Cujo was gone. I still remember her but no more sadness for her like tongues in a mouth.

Alan Johnson, age 12

My Part of Town, Writing by students from Krueger Middle School in the Northeast Independent School District in San Antonio, Texas in partnership with Gemini Inkâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Writers in Communities program. Project funded by the Rackspace Foundation. Writers-in-Residence, Trey Moore, and Lyle D. Rosdahl. Illustrator, Carolina G. Flores. ÂŠ 2011 Gemini Ink

Mi Casa Brown, nearly alive, almost dead grass. Green BE-A-UTIFUL alive grass! Brown, but green in the shade. Dead white grass on one, and the last house… …green but more of a lime-green color of grass. Houses everywhere—is it, like, suppose to look like this? Like a neighborhood? Well, whatever it is, it is where I live. Every house is a different color, except for t wo on my block— my house and those copycats. Across the street green & white are the colors. They moved to the same side as we did (mi familia). I just totally love love love my neighbor’s house with all those pretty flowers! Red, Blue, Pink, Gold, Purple, Yellow, Orange, Magenta, and pretty much any color you can think of. It may very different from where you live, but I don’t care because this is where I live.

Cassandra Hernandez, age 12

A Vase of Red Roses Simple enough but, who left them in the middle of the road so early on a Sunday morning? Where are they from? What do they mean? I glanced down the street both ways, making sure no one was watching, and I sprinted down the gravel grabbing the vase, not knowing exactly why. Once I reached the other side of the road safely, I took another look at the flowers. The vase was red, and the soil was rich, and the stems were like miniature trees. The flowers blossomed full of life. I smiled and headed down the sidewalk, holding my new red roses.

Caitlin O’Brien, age 12

My Neighborhood

My neighborhood is made up of old people and cool kids. Most of the kids are wimps who don’t like scary things. No awe-striking Halloween decorations, no festive fear-bringing costumes.

The bes t house I’ve see n wa s an inflata ble spider and

a bunch of clowns playing dead.

The candy is mostly Mexican, not the kind I like (no offense). Most of the houses keep the new people away with their secret weapons: ro ache s an d dust.

2 1 e g a , m a r g n I x e l A My Part of Town, Writing by students from Krueger Middle School in the Northeast Independent School District in San Antonio, Texas in partnership with Gemini Ink’s Writers in Communities program. Project funded by the Rackspace Foundation. Writers-in-Residence, Trey Moore, and Lyle D. Rosdahl. Illustrator, Carolina G. Flores. © 2011 Gemini Ink

My Lonely House The t wo-story house on the lonely cul de sac Screaming kids everywhere

Dexter Stigger, age 12 My Part of Town, Writing by students from Krueger Middle School in the Northeast Independent School District in San Antonio, Texas in partnership with Gemini Inkâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Writers in Communities program. Project funded by the Rackspace Foundation. Writers-in-Residence, Trey Moore, and Lyle D. Rosdahl. Illustrations, Carolina G. Flores. ÂŠ 2011 Gemini Ink

Excerpt from:

Dog Park Dogs run about while their owners converse with each other. No one likes being the first one there because they’re the ones who move the equipment, but once someone steps up, the whole neighborhood joins in. People who run with their dogs are normally going to a competition or are just energetic. The people who stand at the edges are usually just there to talk and hang out with their friends, or maybe just to take care of younger siblings or children.

Dalia Castillo, age 13

A Neighborhood Is The air is filled with gasoline, and the sky is smog People yell at each other from their houses They bark at each other like dogs and the dogs yelp at each other like wolves or a wild creature Kids play on their desktop or laptop, forgetting the outside and the economy Cars put their radios up all the way and go deaf the next day, blowing out other people’s ears The city is never asleep, even at night it’s still full awake A gunshot can be heard a mile away, maybe even more When a new building is made it is tagged the next day and it is never finished When someone moves out no one moves back Until next week or month or year or decade

2 1 e g a , m a k g n Diane Tho

About San Antonio When treasures create a trail, when the silence hovers over the trees, when the water ripples next to me, you are in San Antonio. It’s long one day, short another. When the sun roasts the day, tomorrow will be hugged by clouds, and then it rains—listen to it. When it stops, the sun will come out partnered with the rainbow. Admire it. San Antonio, you hold many colors. You hold many lives. I love you.

Anna Vu, age 12 My Part of Town, Writing by students from Krueger Middle School in the Northeast Independent School District in San Antonio, Texas in partnership with Gemini Ink’s Writers in Communities program. Project funded by the Rackspace Foundation. Writers-in-Residence, Trey Moore, and Lyle D. Rosdahl. Illustrations, Carolina G. Flores. © 2011 Gemini Ink

Barbeques in My Neighborhood In my neighborhood we light barbeques My mother and I wake up early and get ready to clean Then dad goes to the store and buys food There he buys: chicken, meat, tortillas, and vegetables Mom and I make arroz and frijoles When dad comes back we make salsa and pico de gallo while the flames in the barbeque pit start heating up Our family and friends start coming We greet them with a hug and sweet, cheek kiss while the flames burst into action There we laugh there we sing and to the rhythm of the music dance with glee Then time to eat comes We sit, while still laughing and parents still talking Then everyone finishes, and we dance some more in my neighborhood’s barbeque

Esmeralda Bugarin, age 13 My Part of Town, Writing by students from Krueger Middle School in the Northeast Independent School District in San Antonio, Texas in partnership with Gemini Ink’s Writers in Communities program. Project funded by the Rackspace Foundation. Writers-in-Residence, Trey Moore, and Lyle D. Rosdahl. Illustrations, Carolina G. Flores. © 2011 Gemini Ink

EXCERPT FROM:

My Neighborhood Love is in my neighborhood. I say this because when I walk outside I feel loved just looking at my neighborhood. I walk inside my mama’s home as she cooks up oatmeal and eggs for me to get up in the morning smiling. Even though I feel mad, my mom says, “Sweetie, I want you to have a good day at school ‘cause everyday God will let you know how special you are when you prove to him you won’t let anyone doubt you.” So I leave and start walking to school happy when I look at all my friends. People who are close to me are so very special. I have friends who are silly but sad at the same time. I even have people who are my sisters from another mister and brothers from other mothers. This is all I have for now. Hopefully it is a story that will make y’all happy!

~Emetrius C.

My Rosy Neighborhood In my neighborhood…the seniors plant seeds in their gardens, and sit outside watching the birds, watching kids play, and looking at younger people run by their houses. I would know because when I run by I see them staring at me as my feet are stomping and I am huffing, and puffing. Most of the seniors who can’t put their lipstick on right, or bend down to tie their shoes, plant the bright yellow and pink flowers in front of their houses. And the older single men plant fruit, and vegetable trees. When you drive by people’s houses, you can tell if they are old or not because of the color of the grass. The older people have bright green grass even during the winter. And younger people have brown greenish grass. The color of the grass, and plants could tell you a lot about people in my neighborhood.

Diamond Reyna, age 12 My Part of Town, Writing by students from Krueger Middle School in the Northeast Independent School District in San Antonio, Texas in partnership with Gemini Ink’s Writers in Communities program. Project funded by the Rackspace Foundation. Writers-in-Residence, Trey Moore, and Lyle D. Rosdahl. Illustrations, Carolina G. Flores. © 2011 Gemini Ink

I Exchanged I exchanged a liking for Barbie dolls for bye-bye kitty dolls.

I re p lac e d my liking for princess and fairies with vampires, werewolves and paranormal activity. I have an obsession with vampires-them heartless evil cute dudes.

I have another obsession with darkness even though it’s scary. Now, for Christmas I want a MONSTER HIGH doll. And all I want is for Halloween to be forever. I listen to ESCAPE THE FATE until it busts my ears. My eyes burst in flames when I see pink. I marvel and smile when I see a dead rose. Have I mentioned that I love black, and love to read?

. A r e f i ~Jenn

The Pond Once you reach the pond, you would understand. As the sun reflects off the water, it shines like the brightest topaz, and when the sun sets on the pond, it seems like you could swim into it. Everyone who doesn’t live in the community just thinks of it as any old pond. To me, it’s my favorite thing about living here. People have barbecues, and you can just hang out without any glares. The tension breaks. That’s my neighborhood.

Joel Rabago, age 12

Excerpt from:

Rosa’s Scary Dream

Rosa was her name. She lived on a farm. Violet purple was her favorite color. There was a white picket fence around her house. Blue and white mailbox. Rose’s farm is right by a pond. A turquoise color fills the pond. Ducks and geese live by the pond. Frogs and crickets sing at night, owls have the perfect sight. Saturday morning—it was a beautiful morning. Rosa went to the other side of pond on her chalupa to pick her favorite flowers, blood red flowers. 8:00 a.m. Rosa just got done picking roses, blood red flowers with dark green thorns. Rosa was on her chalupa, paddling across the pond when a storm formed in the sky. Rosa wasn’t expecting it to storm on a beautiful day, but I guess she was wrong. Rosa was trying so hard to paddle faster, so she could get to her house safely. Waves from the pond started to pound against her canoe. “Aye dios mio,” she said to herself. It started to rain and that made things worse.

Jesus R. Neuenfeldt, age 12 My Part of Town, Writing by students from Krueger Middle School in the Northeast Independent School District in San Antonio, Texas in partnership with Gemini Ink’s Writers in Communities program. Project funded by the Rackspace Foundation. Writers-in-Residence, Trey Moore, and Lyle D. Rosdahl. Illustrations, Carolina G. Flores. © 2011 Gemini Ink

In My Neighborhood It was in my neighborhood that the divorce happened Fights happened all night long I don’t know why it happened but every night my brother cried himself to sleep In that neighborhood we found no peace none whatsoever Every night yelling fighting so much emotion was in that neighborhood always negativity it made the whole area negative So much violence so much sadness so much pain and worry of people leaving each other But in the end we still don’t find peace what we find may be even better We become closer to our family

Rebekah Ornelas, age 12 My Part of Town, Writing by students from Krueger Middle School in the Northeast Independent School District in San Antonio, Texas in partnership with Gemini Ink’s Writers in Communities program. Project funded by the Rackspace Foundation. Writers-in-Residence, Trey Moore, and Lyle D. Rosdahl. Illustrations, Carolina G. Flores. © 2011 Gemini Ink

Silver Astrid Astrid skidded down the street, her neon-green sneakers padding on the tiled sidewalk. Yes, tiled sidewalk. “And the people wonder why their economy’s heading to the toilet,” she said aloud. She halted as she saw the fish bowl stop sign. Spoke too soon, she thought. Astrid continued on her way, but something stopped her. Astrid froze, careful not to make a move. She stood still behind the bushes, watching the gang of thieves scraping the gold foil and silver spray off a glass house into a big brown cloth bag. Astrid sniffled, forgetting that she was supposed to be quiet. Too late. Within seconds, the thieves grabbed her and shoved her into a metallic blue van, her silent scream for help permanently echoing throughout the houses and streets, forever and ever. Silver Astrid Houses Seattle, Washington 98106

Kimmy Tran, age 12 My Part of Town, Writing by students from Krueger Middle School in the Northeast Independent School District in San Antonio, Texas in partnership with Gemini Ink’s Writers in Communities program. Project funded by the Rackspace Foundation. Writers-in-Residence, Trey Moore, and Lyle D. Rosdahl. Illustrations, Carolina G. Flores. © 2011 Gemini Ink

My Mom Once you start riding a skateboard, wheels turning so fast, letting the perfect autumn air blow through your hair… When I lost my mom, I didn’t know what to do so I turned into squishy goo and cried for days. My mind was in a haze. I had nowhere to turn. I made up my mind and said, “I need something to take my mind off these things. I need to get my head straight.” That’s when I found “Taylor”—my new skateboard. She means a lot to me, with her smooth wheels and her maple texture that always holds me. It makes you just forget about all of your troubles. Fly away going to your happy place, just letting your mind erase—just having a good time. Forgetting about the past, because I’m learning to live life like it’s my last. And not making time fly away too fast. Just going with Taylor’s flow guides me, letting me not get hurt, and being like my mom. Abigail Gonzales, Age 12

My Part of Town, Writing by students from Ed White Middle School in the Northeast Independent School District in San Antonio, Texas in partnership with Gemini Ink’s Writers in Communities program. Project funded by the Rackspace Foundation. Writers-in-Residence, Trey Moore, and Cary Clack. Illustrations, Regina Moya. © 2011 Gemini Ink

A Colored Family A family like colors of the wind. Winds that scatter all over the world. An Aurora Borealis in the North Pole. A family nationwide, wherever I go, they’ll be my guide. I could be in the middle of a desert, the middle of the rainforest, or the middle of the universe, Yet I always find a relative. Same blood, different color. Same blood, different scene. Same blood, different voice. Same blood, different personality.

Our differences do not matter. Like a bag of M&M’s, we’re different colors on the outside, but if you look deep inside, we’re all equal.

Joslynn Mayfield, age 12

Lost and Found Lost: My pet scorpion, his name is Squishy (yes he is very squishy). But his nick name is “sho e,” bec aus e he love s going into my sho es. Last Seen: in my shoe. Details: He is a King Scorpion that has Claws: long and knife-like Head: short and stubby Tail : long and cur vac eous (yes he cou ld cut off skin ny jean s) Attitude: inclusive Scales: fat and long Found: Still in my shoe. :)

~Stephanie Thompson, Ag e 13

My Lake The lake is a calm place overlooking the neighbors and homes. It is a place that provides peace for friends and families. On the holidays, everyone in the neighborhood is outside having fun. The lake is what brings everyone together. It provides safety for people when things happen. It is als o a gre at fishing sp ot, and a p lace wh ere dog s pu ll the adu lts and kids into the water, which is ver y fun ny. The quie t homes rest aro und the edges of the peacef ul lake . The dog s are act uall y quie t but the kids are loud . On the 4th of July, firewo rks fly abo ve t he l ake , sc attering light acro ss t he sky, an d ca sting th eir refle ctio ns o n th e la ke wate r.

2 1 e g a , n a g li il M Richard

y l th oo m S g in w o l F , e Hop Flowing smoothly Once it was hope, now it’s just water. It can fill our thirst, but gives us sadness

Flowing into us, trying to take back what we took. Flowing into nothing but darkness.

TyNeashya Maryland-McGee, Age 12

My Part of Town, Writings by students from Krueger Middle School in the Northeast Independent School District in San Antonio, Texas in partnership with Gemini Ink’s Writers in Communities program. Project funded by the Rackspace Foundation. Writers-in-Residence, Trey Moore, and Lyle D. Rosdahl. Illustrations, Carolina G. Flores. © 2011 Gemini Ink

My Neighborhood My neighborhood is sometimes scary. Every five minutes there has to be a robber robbing. Most of the time my friends or my cousins hang out in the backyard and sometimes we get on the roof and then jump off or even sometimes we just hang around and talk or just joke around. Most of my friends are my next-door neighbors. My neighborhood is sometimes scary, as I said before. There are lots of trees. My neighborhood is one of those where I sometimes want to live, and sometimes I feel like leaving and going back to Dallas – but I know that I can’t. But my neighborhood is the best! Brenda Garcia, Age 14

My Room From the fluorescent bulb down to the many tiles that make up the floors, it’s mine. Above the sleepy-head of a wild dreamer, where my ambitions, hopes and ideas reside, the room stands for protection, comfort, ease. It’s mine. The Coca Cola vintage signs that I see as I awake from sleep. The gift, a typewriter my uncle trusted me with. Gave me what I thought was at its end was just beginning, dozens of mementos past, future. And, of course, my music. My life. It’s where I go when I’m mad, sad or in despair. It is part of me.

Christopher West, Age 12

Bullying Bull and ing are t wo different words. Bull expresses the person’s feelings like a bull. If it sees red it gets mad, and ing means action so the bull takes action when something bothers him or when he/ she sees the other person having what he/she would like to have. At least once At least t wice One has been hurt But the urge is So strong We don’t even think for awhile. We all have been bullied, especially those that are shy. My friend changed throughout the year because she got bullied. She used to be the one getting bullied but word by word, hit by hit, she became the bully. I am sad for her. We used to be BFFs, but I had to let go.

Evelyn G. My Part of Town, Writing by students from Ed White Middle School in the Northeast Independent School District in San Antonio, Texas in partnership with Gemini Ink’s Writers in Communities program. Project funded by the Rackspace Foundation. Writers-in-Residence, Trey Moore, and Cary Clack. Illustrations, Regina Moya. © 2011 Gemini Ink

My Neighborhood My neighborhood is full of LOUD quiet sounds Old people and birds wolves, deer and snakes. It’s full of cats and dogs foxes and cacti and trees. When you look up you see the sky, so beautiful and pure in the yellow sun. When you look around you go back in time. Back to when soldiers fought for San Antonio, stormed through my neighborhoods hills and forests to hide in the barracks. You go back to when people were discriminated against because of how they acted, dressed, and looked. When you look down you see foot prints of Indians, soldiers, women and children, footprints of animals, your footprints. You also see footprints of people who will walk on this same path. This is my neighborhood. My sanctuary. My home. My life. Rae-Rae Broussard, Age 13 My Part of Town, Writing by students from Ed White Middle School in the Northeast Independent School District in San Antonio, Texas in partnership with Gemini Ink’s Writers in Communities program. Project funded by the Rackspace Foundation. Writers-in-Residence, Trey Moore, and Cary Clack. Illustrations, Regina Moya. © 2011 Gemini Ink

Bullied I have been bullied my whole life mostly because, out of the crowd, I was little. When I was six years old, I had my personal bully. All she did was torment me. I was on the verge of tears at that point. She was the meanest girl I ever met, but one day, she was the one being bullied. I was torn: I didn’t know if I should help that bonehead, or leave her to be bullied just as she bullied me. Bonehead has teased, mocked, harassed, and done anything possible to bully me, and despise that, I stood up for her and she never bullied me again.

Kayla Wilson, Age 13

Lost…

One day. That’s all it took to misplace a bracelet. One day to receive it. One day to lose it. My $95.75 charm bracelet. Lost, deep within the silent presence of humanity. Probably one or t wo charms hung from the chains,

and each one held a special place in my heart. Nothing compared to the kind of guilt and regret that I expressed for t wo weeks. I loved that charm bracelet. It was the first one I ever had, and probably will be my last. And I lost it.

Kayla Wilson, Age 13 My Part of Town, Writing by students from Ed White Middle School in the Northeast Independent School District in San Antonio, Texas in partnership with Gemini Ink’s Writers in Communities program. Project funded by the Rackspace Foundation. Writers-in-Residence, Trey Moore, and Cary Clack. Illustrations, Regina Moya. © 2011 Gemini Ink

Die for Love Con un lápiz escribí tu nombre Con una pluma lo subrayé Pero al ver que no me querias Con lagrimas lo borré

Maria Flores, Age 13 My Part of Town, Writing by students from Ed White Middle School in the Northeast Independent School District in San Antonio, Texas in partnership with Gemini Ink’s Writers in Communities program. Project funded by the Rackspace Foundation. Writers-in-Residence, Trey Moore, and Cary Clack. Illustrations, Regina Moya. © 2011 Gemini Ink

Outside on the Patio Outside on the patio I feel like I am the only one here. Everyone is quiet. I look at every single thing outside. I look at the trees and see how big and green they are. Things that you can’t really see, like the inside of a tree-You can see the end of the world, you have to see it closely. When I sit on the grass, I relax. I feel so weird, that I think I’m the only person on earth. I see all the colored houses, so many colors— white, red and brown.

Mérida Vela-Villarreal, Age 12

It Was a Girl It was a girl at H-E-B she was my love she loved cookies she was my love I saw a girl, as soon as I saw her I loved her and she loved me we are in love, all day To see the girl that I love is a kiss in my heart.

. D el a ch i M

My Part of Town, Writing by students from Ed White Middle School in the Northeast Independent School District in San Antonio, Texas in partnership with Gemini Inkâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Writers in Communities program. Project funded by the Rackspace Foundation. Writers-in-Residence, Trey Moore, and Cary Clack. Illustrations, Regina Moya. ÂŠ 2011 Gemini Ink

My Neighborhood I get a flashback of the good things that used to happen around here like barbecues, or birthdays, or block parties. Doing my best to embrace the feelings from the past, I get a feeling that I once had of peace, love, happiness, and a good sense of home. Rachael de Jesus, Age 15

My Life When I was little my puppy died for me. I was so upset I kicked the fence over and over until my leg broke. But I wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t for her. A snake tried to bite me but got my puppy instead.

Rae-Rae Broussard, Age 13