JLM III by Jonathan Wall

Journeys Literary Magazine

I I I

As the year drew to a close, and we had one volume of the literary magazine out

there, a nagging sense of so much other great work dying in the electronic Google

vortex was too much to bear. It bothered me, and so I did something about it here in the final (like really final) fading days of the school year. I have always been in

love with the romance in language, and nothing inspires me more than when I see it in the words of my students. This is not the sappy kind of romance, but the kind

that reflects the beauty of our world - the way things are and the way we dream or

remember them to be. It is the romance seen in people and places, and experiences, and memories. It is the way language acts not so much in a way to explain our

world but as a way to define our experience of it. An idea I would often touch on in class over the past three years was that the limits of our language, the words that we know and how we use them, equate to the boundaries of our world. Experience is

constructed by how we see things, and language, in the best of times, can allow us to see things differently. Nothing causes more disquiet in the conscience of an English teacher than a world where everyone thinks, talks, and acts the same. To see the

world in the way of a poet is to see it differently, uniquely, with magic and shadows and darting light around every corner. Essays too, long the refuge of dull, trivial, recycled thinking, have always been for me a place to dwell on and explore ideas that matter to you personally, not to summarize or argue some arbitrary point.

Human experience is a beautiful thing, and the pages you are about to read are filled with the imaginations, dreaming, yearnings and wonderings of middle schoolers

from this past year. These are the things that inspire me. In these pages are all that motivate me as a teacher. These students should be proud of what they did here, because adding to the beauty of this world is no small thing.

- Jon Wall, Editor

Table of Contents ESSAYS My Hell, Your Heaven, Mary Muromcew ... 4 Stepping Out, William Kucera...10 The Definition Of Freedom, Wyatt Kern...15 Misguided Perceptions, Abby Heimerl...20 Hopless Loss, Mitchell Carter..25 Connections, Tucker Warden...30 Identity, Larkin Kern...34 Obsessions, Kai Mclennan...38 The Decision, Ellory Hare...43 Waste Away, Or Try Harder, Emma Nielsen...48 Holding On, Skylar White...52 Differences, Matthew Watters...57 POETRY Games / Faces / King, Anna Hitch...65-68 Life / Cat, Flynn Ellis...69-71 Woods After Dark / Midnight Hooves, Elsie Hall...72-74 Oppression, Kai Mclennan...75-79 Fearless / Starting Fresh / Home, Ellory Hare...80-84 Vanish Land, Kiera Kline...85 Darkness, / Keep Running Home, Samuel Baruwa...86-87 Music / Fears / Time, Grace Regan...88-90 Love / Underface / Frozen / Reality, Riley Zeleznik...91-94 From Bayhorse Lake / Liv, Skylar White...95-98 Without Trees, Tucker Warden...99

My Hell, Your Heaven, Mary Muromcew

I care for myself.

The more solitary, the more friendless, the more unsustained I am, the more I will respect myself. - Charlotte Brontë

We accept the love we think we deserve. - John Green

In today’s world, more often than not, ignorance is a choice. We entertain any

ideas thrown at us, regardless of the truth that we might instinctively know. A

common pain we inflict on ourselves derives from that choice of ignorance. It’s the pain of choosing to endure love we know we shouldn’t accept, therefore living in a hell. We choose that love because we want to feel desired, we want to feel safe, or because we want to have an intimacy beyond whatever we have previously

experienced. If we accept any romantic love that gets thrown at us, regardless of the validity of it or what that love does to our mental health, then we deteriorate. We

deteriorate from the self-awareness we retain of how pathetic we are to go seeking for something to supplicate our low self-esteem. When we’re not strong enough to

support ourselves we end up in a hell. Romantic love doesn’t complete us at humans,

it’s supposed to make us better. So when we accept any romantic love that is offered, we lower our ability to be independent, which creates a hell. That self-awareness is very crippling and creates a personal hell. Of course the other option is that we

remain strong enough to reject that love, but there’s an overbearing expectation for people to always accept love. These expectations can be very detrimental, as they

enforce the idea that you always have to accept romantic love from another person.

Love can be binding; it traps us in a place we feel uncomfortable in. We lose a part of ourselves that tells us to only the accept love that make us feel good about who we are.

The song Hell Above by Pierce the Veil tells a story of the tumultuous conflict

between choosing self-love vs. living in a personal hell. Vic Fuentes, the songwriter,

wrote the song after being inspired from letters from his fans. His fans wrote to him telling stories of feeling trapped from choosing all the love they were given because

they felt alone. The fans wrote of feeling stuck in their own home amidst all the lies of capricious love. In the song, Fuentes weaves a similar story: He chooses to embrace

love from another girl, even though that love is binding him to a place he considers his hell. The song gives us insight to a much bigger problem: a person retaining their heaven should never be be at the expense of you living a hell.

When we don’t have self-respect, we are imprudent when we choose to accept

love. We gain naivety about love quicker when other people tell us how to feel it.

“I met a girl who never looked so alone / Like sugar water in your mouth lukewarm / She tied a cherry stem for me with her tongue / We fell in love and now we're both alone.” (Fuentes 5)

When you imagine love, isolation doesn’t come to mind. However, as Fuentes so

accurately sang, when you choose love you’re not comfortable with you only gain a

heightened awareness of how alone you truly are. That feeling of solitude can be very

different if you have self-love. With self-love being on your lonesome is tolerable, and

can sometimes be preferable to conforming to whatever hell you left. Solitude without self-love is much darker. The pain is in seeing yourself as a person without any selfrespect but not having the courage to face your problems and leave the people who

confine us. In many instances, the people who control our flow of self-love are living

in a utopia of sorts, oblivious to our own misery. “This is a wasteland, my only retreat / With heaven above you, there's hell over me” (6). Fuentes is clearly no foreigner to

the concept of unwelcome love encouraging our own deterioration. The lyrics conjure an idea that the person who loves us has a sense of entitlement to expecting us to reciprocate that love. The idea of how important love between two people often

overrides the worth and importance we assign to self-love. Because of this we let

ourselves believe that it is necessary to requite all love that is offered our way. When we reject that love, we become uncomprehending of the respect we have ourselves, and we end up digging a grave for our own self-pity.

We often get so lost in tricking ourselves to feel love that we lose the power to

choose to leave. Although we might not retain the power to leave, we always carry the awareness to recognize our own despair. As Fuentes sang, “I cannot spend another night in this home / I close my eyes and take a breath real slow” (1). These lyrics candidly represent how helpless we can be rendered by tolerating love, and how

conscious we become of our own vulnerability. In some cases, we aren’t the people

who mindlessly choose to graciously receive any love that is offered our way, we are the people plead for it instead. We have a very prying, innate craving to feel love,

because it has such positive connotations, that we close off a part of ourselves that is vital. It’s the facet of ourselves that knows that when love is begged for, and not

found, that love shall not be given in a truthful way. Fuentes recognizes this in his song when he wrote, “The consequence is if I leave I'm alone / But what's the

difference when you beg for love?” (2). The decision to choose to leave is a very hard one, usually because that decision always remains in our memories. When we choose to leave love, we do so with a clarity of what isolation truly means to us.In the song, we can see this inner conflict through those lyrics, when Fuentes faces the same decision.

We gain power from the people that give us unconditional, familial love. The

unconditional love that we get from our family is often transformed into a fire that

helps us escape from our hells. In the song when Fuentes wrote, “As I run through

glass in the street / Kerosene hearts carry the name that my father gave me / And take the face of the wolf” (2), you can see that he is using his family’s strength to run and feel liberated from his hell. He is using the name his father gave to him, and he’s

running with the “face of the wolf” (2). He has a passion that is driving him to run over glass, just so he can feel freedom. Later in the song when Fuentes says, “The water is rusted, the air is unclean. / And there for a second I feel free / This is a

wasteland, my only retreat (7), we can see how even amidst his hell he still has the

quality to feel liberated and unchained. When we choose to endure through love we

don’t want to accept we subject ourselves to suffering and feeling trapped, however, that trapped feeling often makes the sensation of freedom all the more sweet and

fleeting. Towards the end of the song when Fuentes imparts, “Cause I don't need any more friends / And another kiss like a fire on pavement / We'll burn it down till the

end” (8), we notice that Fuentes has found his fire. He’s realizing that he isn’t less of a

person for not needing love, he’s stronger for it. He’s opening his eyes and seeing how inconsequential everything truly is when he says “We’ll burn it down till the end” (8). This moment of gaining the resilience to cast aside the entitlement others have, and the expectations people force upon us is a very, very powerful moment. It’s the

moment when we gain the courage to say, “I've waited all this night to honor you and say, ‘I know it's hard, but who are you to fall apart on me, on me?" (9). Those words are the most difficult to say. The words symbolize that we don’t need anybody because we have self-love and self-respect. The words symbolize the

acknowledgement of letting yourself believe that the other person was cruel for giving you a sham of a love.

As humans we have a boundless amount of desire. The desire to feel love is

often so wrenching that we ignore the truth about what that love can do to us; we

abide by any love that is offered to have that feeling of being wanted, even if it means chaining yourself to a place you consider hell. Self-love gives us the power to retain

freedom and individuality. Without that self-love we don’t have the confidence to go anywhere, and consequently we remain stuck in a personal hell. We lose any respect

we have for our actions and morals. As John Green said, “We accept the love we think we deserve”. Nobody should think that they have to live a hell, but some people

accept it. Clarity of mind and power through self-realization are the outlets that help

us break free from our hells, yet we choose to remain oblivious. We can’t let ourselves be ignorant to a truth that is undeniable: we deserve to love ourselves, because without that self-love, we are weak.

Stepping Out, William Kucera

Walking the dogs on New Yearâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Day. Going to watch the local band play

each Wednesday in the summer. Sitting down for a thanksgiving meal with many

relatives each year. Whether or not we know of it or even enjoy it, we are immersed in tradition. It is how we interact, how we unwind, and even how we stay happy in our busy lives as humans. Independence is the feeling of truly being on your own in life, and not being altered or controlled in any form. It is truly living the way that you

want to, not what others want. In a way, independence can be the bane of tradition in many families or bonds. When members of an ongoing tradition or legacy begin to

question the traditions in place in pursuit of their own individual beliefs, conflict will arise between the two forces.

In the short story The Summer of the Beautiful White Horse by William

Saroyan, both of these themes clash. On a crisp summer morning, the main character Aram is woken by his bizarre cousin, Mourad. Aram realizes that Mourad is on the back of a strikingly handsome white horse, something that Aram has dreamt about

riding since his first thoughts raced through his young mind. However, the horse was stolen, and this is something that goes against their family tradition that â&#x20AC;&#x153;...Had been

famous for our (their) honesty for something like eleven centuriesâ&#x20AC;? (Saroyan 1).Aram no longer wants to conform to their family legacy of eternal honesty. He begins to push his family boundaries by following in the footsteps of his quirky cousin

Mourad. Aram is ready to become his own man, free of generations holding him back from the way he chooses to live his new life alongside cousin Mourad.

It is no secret that Mourad is deranged. In fact, nobody in the tribe thinks that

Mourad’s father was truly his own. Rather, being his birth father “... did not mean

that he was also the father of his spirit” (2). Mourad’s spirit was so wild and free, so

rebellious, that even his own predecessor could no longer relate to him. Mourad’s soul could not be contained, but Aram was the opposite. He had always conformed this legacy that had been going on “...for something like eleven centuries” (1). He had

always made sure to stay “Proud first, honest next, and after that believe in right and

wrong” (1). But when Mourad arrived on the white horse, Aram’s mind scattered. He couldn’t bear to accept that the horse was stolen, yet he still couldn’t avert his eyes

from the stunning animal. He went from simply denying the horse and its existence to saying “For all I knew, maybe it wasn’t stealing at all. If you were crazy about horses like my cousin mourad and I were, it wasn’t stealing” (1). The only way to move Aram away from the legacy was now clear to Mourad: The White Horse.

Riding a horse for the first time can be a very foreign experience for some

people. So foreign that in fact, often times people decline the ability to ride again.

Despite this, Aram was the exact opposite of these people. He had an itch to ride that had been with him longer that he can remember. An itch that lasted so long that, “In the first place, my earliest memories had been memories of horses and my first longings had been longings to ride” (1). It was at this moment when Aram’s

independence won the battle inside his very own mind. He finally “Jumped down to

the yard from the window and leaped onto the horse behind my cousin Mourad” (1). Aram climbed on the back of the animal knowing that he was truly stealing, and

leaving his family name behind. This is because “No member of the Garoghlanian family could be a thief” (1).

The decision Aram made was truly the right one for his mind, body, and spirit.

The horse only brought him bliss on the midsummer morning. As he flew down the street on its back “the air was new and lovely to breathe” and he knew that “...the

feeling of riding the horse was wonderful” (2). He finally felt accepted alongside his shunned cousin because he says “For all anybody knew we were in the old country where, at least according to some of our neighbors, we belonged” (2). But now that

Aram felt peace and acceptance on the horse, there was something missing. Something that his cousin Mourad had been practicing his entire life. Something that Aram was a complete stranger to. This something was having a special connection with the horse that goes deep beyond simply riding it.

The morning ride may have been incredible, but the future looked bleak for the

White Horse and Aram. So far he had simply rode the horse, nothing else. Whereas

Mourad on the other hand, treats the horse like a brother. He knows each detail of the creature, and Aram is simply a stranger. Mourad always had a way with an animal,

and Aram exclaims “Well, I said, I wish I knew how to reach an understanding like

that with a horse” (3). A special connection like this takes time to form, longer than

one can imagine, but Aram is independent. He is ready for the commitment it takes to be one with the Beautiful White Horse.

We all need tradition. Habits like this are why our lives are incredible. Without

it, we would be lost and constantly trying to create a sense of belonging without a

place to start. That being said, we also must have independence in our daily lives. If we can’t take some time to do the things that are right for just ourselves, our voices

will be muffled, our core values will be disregarded and lost in endless tradition. Aram was lost in tradition. But when the horse stood on his driveway, independence

emerged. The horse gave him the idea that he no longer wanted to be associated with the family that â&#x20AC;&#x153;...was living in the most amazing comical poverty in the worldâ&#x20AC;? (1). The horse was his escape from the monster of tradition known as his family.

Sometimes we need to spend a sunday afternoon, talking politely with the people we have always known. But other times, we need to hop up, kick our heels into it, and ride away from everything we once knew.

The Definition of Freedom, Wyatt Kern

“Today I choose life.

Every morning when I wake up I can choose joy, happiness, negativity, pain...

To feel the freedom that comes from being able to continue to make mistakes and choices - today I choose to feel life,

not to deny my humanity but embrace it.”

-Kevyn Aucoin

All humans strive to be free, or at least not controlled and forced to do

something they despise. The definition of freedom is “the state of not being

imprisoned or enslaved.” It is the ability to do what you wish with your life. If

somebody’s decisions are being decided by another person's ideas, that are not their

own, would they be considered free? Or would a part of them be imprisoned by the person controlling them? In This is What it Means to Say Phoenix Arizona by

Sherman Alexie there is a character named Thomas-Builds-The-Fire. This man is

different than the others around him. Even when he was young others knew he was

different. He had a gift to tell stories. Thomas’s decisions and actions allow him to be the most free of those on the reservation. The ability to embrace that he is different

and not let it slow him down makes him able to let go of others cruel glare and make his life one that he wants to live, to follow his own path, to be free.

All throughout this story Thomas stands out from the other characters, like a

man wearing yellow in a sea of blue. He has a gift to tell stories and seems to be

farther in touch with his inner self than the other people surrounding him. At one

point in the story, Thomas’s friend, Victor, asks him how he knew about his Victor's father’s death. “How did you know?”, he asks. Thomas responds, “I heard it on the wind. I heard it from the birds. I felt it in the sunlight...” (Alexie 3) Thomas’s reply shows us that he stands out, not many people can hear things on the wind and feel

things in the sunshine. He is different than most and stands out more in the crowd and even though “Nobody talked to Thomas...” (3).

He knows that he is different and takes that in. He doesn’t allow the others to

get to him and hold him back. His ways of standing out and making decisions shows that he isn’t afraid to be that person that is perhaps unpopular, but also gifted. He is free to make that decision. Being unique means that other people may not have the same effect to cage him and try to control his life for him.

Apart from standing out from the crowd Thomas doesn’t feel like he is

restricted by who he is. For example, they were taking a plane to Phoenix Arizona to deal with Victor’s father's death and all the deeds, possessions and things like that. When Thomas and Victor are flying they sit next to a young gymnast who is

extremely flexible. Thomas says “I have to ask,’ and Victor closed his eyes in

embarrassment. ‘Don’t’ Victor said.” (6) Victor feels embarrassed and thinks that he shouldn’t talk to the young woman on the plane. Thomas goes on and talkes to her, not feeling restricted or captive by who he is. Not just that instance on the plane

shows that Thomas is comfortable and unrestricted by who he is. He doesn’t hide his gift to tell stories “Hey’ Victor said, ‘tell me a story” (4) He complies and helps bring his friend joy through it. He doesn’t feel bad about who he is which opens up many

doors of possibilities for him. He does not feel crippled, and therefore can lead his life in a lot more directions than perhaps he could have if he did feel bad about himself.

Thomas calls his own shots. He has the freedom to do so, but does he act on it?

Well yes he does, and that's something that makes him stand out even more in the

story. The other characters may be able to access the level of freedom that Thomas has if they worked for it. However, then they might not have the courage to make the decisions that show that they truly are free. Thomas makes those decisions, “I

remember when I had this dream that told me to go to spokane, to stand by the Falls

in the middle of the city and wait for a sign. I knew I had to get there but I didn’t have a car. Didn’t have a license. I was only 13. So I walked all the way…” He doesn’t

think “I could go to spokane but what would my friends think” or “whatever, I’ll just watch TV.” He makes the decision and goes, therefore showing and following through with the freedom he has. He knows by acting on his freedom he will

hopefully lead a more fulfilling life than the others surrounding him. He has a gift and he knows that “Mine (Thomas’s) are the stories which can change or not change the

world. It doesn’t matter as long as I continue to tell the stories.” (13) He has a chance to make a difference and the freedom of his decisions to follow that gift and accept it and use it make it so that he has a chance to do something that some other people on the reservation might not be able to do.

Thomas-Build-the-Fire is a character in the story set out as kind of a model for

others. He allows his creativity to make him different and by being different he doesn’t get tied down by all the social norms. Whereas other people on the

reservation might fall into that normal boring person cycle. Our world, and the

people in it could take a hint from Thomas. Our lives are ours and we need to do

what we truly want to do with them. We cannot focus on the negatives like most

other people in the story seem to do, but instead look to the positives and try to make them work. Our world already seems to be caught in the negatives, with war and

politics. Everybody just needs to find their own way of staying positive and happy.

That would most likely make us free from so many little spirits that crowd our heads. Follow your own way and let it unfold the way it does. Be free like Thomas.

Misguided Perceptions, Abby Heimerl

“Life is ten percent what you experience and ninety percent how you respond to it”

* Neddermeyer

When we are unhappy, everything appears to be bleak. And when we truly

believe what we assume, we carry it out with our actions and emotions. This makes

others not want to interact with us, which causes us to assume the wrong things, and we soon get twisted up in our own thoughts. We try to seek out what’s right or wrong, but we never get an outcome, and we end up drowning in anxiety and contemplation.

In the song Little Talks by Of Monsters and Men, we are shown a couple with a

girl that has depression. The song walks us through the burdens of her assumptions,

and how that affects her relationship with her husband. She somewhat acknowledges that her thoughts are tearing her away from the truth, and she thinks that “...Soon it

will all be over, and buried with our [their] past” (15). But she doesn’t realize that her mind won’t let go in time for her life to straighten out, and their relationship will

deteriorate until their lives completely separate. She is constantly hoping for herself to get better, but she’s not making any actions, she’s only building up sorrow that

continuously tears at her. She is withdrawing herself from her own existence and

truth. The song Little Talks demonstrates the state that a mental illness can put us in, it shows us how little mistakes and misconceptions can put relationships to an end, and cause us to drift away from reality.

Her depression was triggered because she couldn’t find any answers to her basic

life scenarios. She doesn’t know which side of her is accurate, and the more ideas that she hears, the more confused she gets. She doesn’t know whether her own mental outlook has significance, and her result is a blurred outlook and a disoriented

relationship. Whenever she tries to find a solution to any scenario, big or small, she ends up not coming to a conclusion because “...some days I [she] can’t even trust myself [herself] / … / [and] Some days I [she] don’t know if I [she] am wrong or

right” (7,18). She gets anxious if there’s a creak in her house, or if someone else has an

opinion that she doesn’t understand, because she can only comprehend and deliberate so much information at once.

Those who don’t have depression can easily take in information and other

people’s thoughts, and they can usually deliberate it with understanding, being able to either come back to it later, or if it’s something small they can forget about it. She has

too many things flowing through her mind, and she doesn’t have the capacity to store all her thoughts in the back of her mind. She can’t mentally organize all the ideas that are drifting around in her mind because she can only focus on one. This makes her

anxious, causing her to get even more worried when something small happens. Her

husband knows not to fill her with new thoughts, and he tells her: “Don’t listen to a word I say / … / The screams all sound the same” (23, 25). He doesn’t want her to

hear everything he says because when he does mention something to her, she either perceives it the wrong way, or she ponders his words until she gets annoyed. He doesn’t want to mess up and say the wrong thing to her. When he does have the

wrong assumption, she will stress over it and constantly question herself until her

brain hurts with uncertainty. He always needs to make sure that his assumptions are

correct. After too many wrong statements and mistakes, he can’t trust his own words

anymore, and he can’t say anything to her without the chance of messing up. This forces them to go their own ways until they know how to put their lives back in

place. Once they separate, the girl will have no one that is willing to help her through troubles. She gets stuck in her own mind, which is equivalent to a totally different dimension that has a completely different reality from the real world. Once she’s

trapped in this nonexistent world, she can’t help herself but try to leave it. Her best choice would be to find a person to help her, or go back to her husband so he can

keep her from committing suicide, which would be the worst way of discarding her

thoughts. But once they went their own ways, it put her in the mindset that he would be gone forever, and she committed suicide. She thought that would make things so much easier, but she reached out for help and said, “...Now wait, wait, wait for me,

please hang around” (35), and her last words were “...I’ll see you when I fall asleep”

(36). In the end, she believed that in the future they will gain back their relationship,

even though she had already passed away. The only thing that she has left to ponder is regret.

Depression is one of the many things that can cause us to slowly move away

from the truth, and create a different, illogical person out of us. We don’t know who we’re supposed to be in order for others to accept us, and we can never seem to find the right answer. This all leads up to not being able to trust ourselves because we

know that we’re incapable of acknowledging what’s right and wrong, and we end up wanting to discard ourselves into oblivion. When we’re assuming the wrong thing,

our actions begin to change, and we can only count on others to hold us up. People tend to lean on their close ones, and in her case, it’s her husband. She puts all her

troubles on him, and trusts him to always tell her the right thing. Their relationship

changed throughout her various phases of depression, and they couldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t last together because of it.

Hopeless Loss, Mitchell Carter

Happiness is not something ready made. It comes from our own actions. * Dalai Lama

In todayâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s society, there are so many classifications for people, black or white,

rich or poor, ugly or beautiful, etc. When these are strongly enforced by social

standards and norms, they are hard to diminish. They allow people to rank their

importance and discriminate against another group of people because they have less money or they donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t believe in their ideals. Now more than ever, people have used

classifications to push out muslims and immigrants because they think they are less

than themselves. These are so influenced by so many people that lots of the objectified groups feel as though they cannot be anything more than their classification, they feel stuck in their place.

Sherman Alexieâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s This is What it Means to Say Phoenix Arizona presents a

society in which most live in depression and poverty. The main character, Victor has lived on a Native American reservation all his life. He was deprived of many

opportunities that could have gotten him out of this society. As he grew he got sucked into this depressing mindset. However, Alexie introduced a character,

Thomas. He was considered crazy by everyone else on the reservation, he always told

stories of far off places and seemed to know so much about other people. Thomas was the only person on the reservation that had escaped the despair and depression that surrounded everyone else. Victor had once been friends with Thomas, they would

bike and play together, it was very apparent that Victor needed Thomas. But, as they grew up Victor pushed him away, completely disregarded his stories and advice.

Eventually Thomas’s influence wore off. Years later Victor was lost in his sadness, he was afraid to try to fix things and afraid to dream of a better life.

On the reservation, Thomas was held to different standards because he had a

certain courage and control over his thoughts and life. His outlook made him an outcast, everyone else “hated him for his courage” (11). But, he did not cease to

pursue his dreams and create a livable life even in the poverty and depression. This is

what pushed Victor away. He convinced himself that thomas was crazy which caused him to develop a hatred towards him like the other children. It seemed as though

Victor couldn’t stand the fact that thomas was able to be so happy. He eventually took out his built up pain and anger on Thomas, he “was really drunk and beat

Thomas up” (6). And, as they grew apart more because Victor neglected thomas and his perceptions.

After Victor and Thomas’s journey together, Victor still couldn’t seem to accept

thomas because he didn’t want a false sense of hope that Thomas had, a hope that he

would be able to leave the cold despair of the reservation. He “knew that he couldn’t

really be friends with Thomas, even after all that had happened. It was cruel but it was real. As real as the ashes, as Victor’s father, sitting behind the seat” (14). It was as

though he was afraid of falling back into reality if he couldn’t make his dreams come true, if he couldn’t live the life that he had thought of as a kid. Victor was also afraid

that he was going to seem crazy like Thomas, his friends would “give [him] too much shit about it” (14). For the same reason, he didn’t want to risk his intact life with his friends that he could lose if he followed Thomas as he used to.

In the end of the story, Victor talked about how all of the community within

the reservation has diminished and had been lost throughout the years. As victor grew up, it seemed like he lost his friendship and connection with Thomas. When they

were young, they had been very close, it was clear that Victor relied on Thomas for happiness and a sense of belonging. When he “was twelve, he stepped into an

underground wasp nest. His foot was caught in the hole, and no matter how hard he

struggled, Victor couldn’t pull free. He might have died there, stung a thousand times, if thomas Builds-the-Fire had not come by” (8). He used to listen and cherish

Thomas’s stories, but as they grew up, he began to push them out and neglect them, he would no longer stop and listen. “He need[ed] much more”(4). Thomas didn’t

change though, he could still dream and strive to find happiness. Victor’s inability to listen and his neglect made it easier for him to succumb to the mood of his

surroundings. But, if he had kept the connection with Thomas, he would have been able to escape the mindset he later developed, he would of had the courage to break free of the handcuffs that bound him to his perception.

Throughout the reservation, everyone had lost their connection with each

other, they had lost their “tribal ties”(14). It was clear that this is what brought the depression upon the reservation, the loss of their origins forced people away from

each other, it forced people to lose hope of a life of happiness. They no longer shared a religion, no longer shared a community.

The only real thing Victor had “shared with anybody was a bottle and broken dreams” (14).

Victor is a person that longs to be happy, to have a life where he can love, where

he can dream and reach for the stars. But, he does not have the courage, he does not

have the perseverance to find his way out of the ice cold world that surrounds him. He neglects the one person that could help him out but he is so afraid of not being able to find that life he so desperately wishes to live. This neglect diminished their

connection and their friendship, leaving Victor to fall into despair, leaving him to get lost in his anguish. In the end, after their journey together, Victor still couldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t stop and listen, he still couldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t find the courage.

Connections, Tucker Warden

Some people talk to animals. Not many listen though. That’s the problem.

― A.A. Milne

Humans are amphibians - half spirit and half animal. As spirits they belong to the eternal world, but as animals they inhabit time.

― C. S. Lewis

By finding natural connections, a person can live life more fully. However,

natural connections are rare. Connections with animals and nature take more work

than people are willing to exert nowadays. In today’s world, natural connections are

also rare because our world has become so digital that it draws people inside and away from these connections.

In The Summer Of the Beautiful White Horse by William Saroyan the character

Mourad, who is thought to be crazy and different, steals a white horse from a

neighboring farmer and rides it early in the morning. Mourad seems to have some sort of natural connection with the horse. Throughout the story we see that Mourad has a deep connection with his surroundings, in particular with animals. At times it seems like the animals are an extension of Mourad. This connection contributes to his strangeness.

Mourad is thought to be crazy by his family and friends. Aram, Mourad’s

younger cousin, says that Mourad “was considered crazy by everybody who knew

him”(Saroyan 1). Mourad's craziness has been passed down through his family.

”Every family has a crazy streak in it somewhere, and ...Mourad was considered the natural descendant of the crazy streak”(2).

Mourad’s actions also show that he is crazy. This is shown when Aram asks

Mourad, “How long ago did you steal this horse?...It suddenly dawned on [Aram] that [Mourad] had been taking these early morning rides for some time”(3). This

shows that Mourad is even willing to steal in the pursuit of a little fun, even if it seems kind of crazy. To also further the point Mourad and Aram’s family is described as

“proud first, honest next, and [then] believ[ing] in right and wrong. None of [them]

would take advantage of anybody in the world, let alone steal”(1). So when Mourad steals the horse he is not only committing a sin but also going against his family's reputation.

Alongside Mourad's “crazy” actions is his behavior towards, and connections

with, animals. Toward the middle of the story, Aram is questioning Mourad about how he tamed the horse. Mourad answers Aram’s questions with, “I have an

understanding with a horse ...a simple and honest one”(3). Later, Aram comes to tell

Mourad that the farmer they took the horse from, Farmer John Byro, is in need of his horse. Aram finds Mourad “sitting under a peach tree, trying to repair the hurt wing

of a young robin which could not fly. He was talking to the bird... He threw the bird into the air. The bird tried hard, almost fell twice, but at last flew away, high and

straight”(3,4). These relationships prevents Mourad from having time and energy to deal with human connections. This explains why people might think he is weird.

Mourad lives life fully. His relationships with animals is one way in which he

does this. We are told that “Mourad enjoyed being alive more than anybody else who

had ever fallen into the world by mistake’’(1). Mourad stole the horse in order to

make a connection with it. This is apparent when Mouad is riding the horse; “Mourad kicked his heels into the horse and shouted, Vazire, run. The horse stood on its hind legs, snorted, and burst into a fury of speed that was the loveliest thing I had ever seen”(2).

Mourad’s connection to animals and nature make him feel alive and allows him

to live a fuller life. People who don’t understand this might think that people who live

this way are crazy. Mourad is even willing to take risks and put his family’s reputation on the line for this fulfillment. We can learn from this. Seeking connections with other people, animals and nature can help people live a more full life.

Identity, Larkin Kern

Identity is something all of us should hope to find. If we don’t find our rightful

place in life we’ll be a repeat of someone else. We will be in the shoes of another, living their life and not ours. It can be hard to find our identity because it comes

through experiences, friendships, and most of all from the things and people we love the most.

In her short story The White Heron, Sarah Orne Jewett writes of a character

named Sylvia. Sylvia is a country girl growing up in a cottage in the woods with her

grandmother. One day her life is disturbed by a hunter man, and Sylvia is presented

with a choice. At the beginning of the story she wouldn’t have known which path to choose, but through time she found who she was and what she wants.

Part of Sylvia's daily routine is to take the cow out every morning and then

back home in the evening, she feels as if the cow is her only friend. Then, one night

while taking the cow home she meets a hunterman, at first she feels “horror-stricken” and reluctant to bring him home but she does anyway (Jewett 3). Although, within

just a day she “lost her first fear of the friendly lad, who proved to be most kind and sympathetic” (7).

Sylvia hadn’t had much excitement before she first met the man, so she jumped

to love right away. “He gave her a jack-knife, which she thought as great a treasure as

if she were a desert-islander…She had never seen anybody so charming and delightful; the woman’s heart, asleep in the child, was vaguely thrilled by a dream of love” (7,8).

Although Sylvia began to find herself loving the man “she grieved because the longedfor white heron was elusive.”

Sylvia and the man both find in common the liking for birds, specifically the

white heron. The man wants the rare bird for his collection and “would give ten

dollars to anybody who could show it to (him)” while Sylvia had seen it only once

and afterwards “wondered and dreamed much about” (7). Sylvia wants to see the bird again, but is torn between helping the man find the white heron or not. Sylvia knows that if the bird is found by the hunterman it means death, but he certainly would be impressed if she could show him where the heron’s nest was.

Sylvia had seen a great pine tree that towered above all other trees that she could

climb and would be able to see the heron from. “For why, if one climbed it at break of day, could not one see all the world, and easily discover from whence the white

heron flew” (9). Anxious to get going Sylvia awoke bright and early in the morning, and began climbing the tree “with utmost bravery… with her bare feet and fingers, that pinched and held like bird’s claws to the monstrous ladder reaching up, up,

almost to the sky itself” (9). Sylvia continued to climb, until the “last thorny bough was past, and she stood trembling and tired but wholly triumphant, high in the tree

top”(10). She never thought that she could do such a thing by herself, and as she stood in the treetops, she looked out to the land below for the first time.

The dawn of the new day brightened the horizon and Sylvia’s pale face gazed at

the rising sun. There was the sea, golden looking because of the new light. And next

to Sylvia’s tree, lazy birds flew above the treetops so close that Sylvia could reach out to touch their soft feathers. Then there was the heron, gliding to its nest rising from

the trees below. It landed on a tree not far from Sylvia’s and they watched the sunset

together. Sylvia recalled the way the birds chirped earlier in the morning and how the breeze rustled the branches the birds sang on. And she knew then that part of herself belonged with the forest and the forest’s animals.

Once Sylvia had made her way back down the tree and was heading home she

began to wonder “over and over again what the stranger would say to her, and what he would think when she told him how to find his way straight to the heron’s nest”

(12). But, when that the splendid moment finally came for Sylvia to tell of the White

heron and the giant pine tree, she did not speak. “She remembers how the white heron came flying through the golden air and how they watched the sea and the morning

together, and Sylvia cannot speak; she cannot tell the heron’s secret and give its life away” (12).

Seeing the heron and the forest's beauty showed Sylvia how much nature meant

to her, even more than impressing a hunterman. It helped her realize her home is with the birds of the forest and that she can’t be with a man who kills the very animals she cherishes and loves. Being with the hunterman would have made Sylvia feel out of

place and confused because she would want to stay with the man but at the same time would miss what she had before. Every time she would see a bird fall on the ground because of the hunter man's gun, part of Sylvia would die because she belongs with the forest and the forest is a part of her… And always will be.

We should hope that when the time comes for our hard decisions that we will

be able to make our own because what are we if we are not ourselves and cannot make the choices that are only ours to make.

Obsessions, Kai Mclennan

Doing nothing for others is the undoing of ourselves -Horace Mann

Our world is full of people trying to only help themselves and achieve their

life goals, while shunning other people along the way. It also contains people trying to help others, even if it can hurt them in some cases. These two types of humans are what make up our society. Our world only shows the topdogs and the famous

billionaires, but the real force is with all the selfless people behind the scenes working for the benefit of the person on the cover.

In Karen Russell’s St. Lucy’s Home for Girls Raised by Wolves, we are

introduced to a society where girls who are raised by wolf parents try to learn human ways. In this story, the main character, Claudette, is trying to find her way through their foster place, called St. Lucy’s Home. Meanwhile, she is growing farther away

from her sisters, especially Jeanette, the most advanced one, and Mirabella, the one

hindered in her education. The girls progress in five different stages of their learning, as shown by different chapters in the short story. In the beginning, the girls rebel,

forgetting “the barked cautions of [their] mothers and fathers” (Russell 1). It takes

time to adapt to the human world, considering that their “mothers and fathers were werewolves” (2). Through their teachings, the foster home is promoting the idea of

selfishness in the girls as opposed to reinforcing their intuitive sense which is concerned with the common goodness of the pack.

The wolf-girls work together in the first stages of the progression. They are

used to “nos[ing] each other in midair, [their] bodies buckling in kinetic laughter”,

working and playing as a pack (1). They are scared, and the only place they can turn to is their sisters. This is how they have been brought up. Even though the pack is

reduced and diminished, they still “threw [their] heads back in a celebratory howl” when they find a small triumph, or even when one of the pack needs help and

encouragement (2). This is the first stage, when they are still getting used to the fact

that they are not in their comfortable homes. This all begins to change once they have had sufficient schooling and get to higher stages.

Once the girls get older, they begin to single other people out of their

deprecated pack. This first happened with the best of them. “The pack hated Jeanette. She was the most successful of us, the one furthest removed from their origins”, and

eventually the most selfish of them (5). Jeanette is learning at the foster home to only

worry about herself, and that is why she is comfortable with being singled out. This is the first step of the downfall of the pack. Another example is with the least advanced, Mirabella. Instead of trying to help her, the pack talks about her, and they speculate “‘whatever will become of’” her (6). All of this new selfishness is because of the teachings of the foster home.

The home is blatantly promoting the idea of selfishness, not even trying to hide

it. In one of their slideshows, they even include the question, “do you want to end up shunned by both species?” (7). This is a very selfish idea, only thinking about how you are going to be left out, without any compassion for others. This goes even

further when the girls try to show compassion, but they are so used to being selfcentered that they “congratulate” themselves because of those selfless thoughts

instead of thinking about others (8). In one scenario, Claudette is feeling bad for

Mirabella, but instead of helping her she just becomes proud of herself because it is a “stage three thought” (8). This is her compassionate wolf side trying to break loose, but it is being shut down by what she has learned. The teachings of the school keep going until the wolf-girls have fully transitioned out of being wolf like.

The girls eventually lose all their original sense of a pack, and only focus on

their own feelings and wants. Even when their sisters are in need, the girls are only

“worried about themselves”, and they won’t stop and take the time to help their only

friends (12). The school’s teachings have made them “no longer certain about how the pack felt about anything” anymore (12). The purpose of this could be to help them in the regular world of humans, so they are not as attached to their family, but it won’t get them far if they don’t get help and help others along the way. This goes to the

extreme when in the story Mirabella does a huge favor for Claudette, but Claudette is too stuck in her selfish misery, and “everyone was watching”, so she pretends to

ignore the good deed (14). In that instance, on the inside, Claudette has “never loved

anyone so much”, but she can’t show it or else she will lose her “Skill Points”, which

are far more important to her than some soft feelings (14). This is a culmination of all her teachings, and it is the most self-centered thing that she could possibly do.

Through the course of the story, the girls go from being a strong, tightly knit

pack to being separate and only fending for themselves. This happens because the foster home is teaching them that way, and that is the way that the foster home

believes the outside human world works. Maybe this is also what author Russell

believes also, that we as humans are greedy and selfish in nature.The opposite is true.

Sure, there are some people that have gotten far by themselves, but mostly we need to work together to survive, like any other animal. We try to help our family when

relatives are in need, and they would help us. We can get farther that we have ever

gotten before with this. If we try to work by ourselves, we can only get as far as one

lifetime allows us, but if we combine our efforts we can make a greater impact on the world around us.

The Decision, Ellory Hare

The hardest thing about the road not taken is that you never know where it might have led.

-Wingate

Everything changes. Now she was going to go away like the others, to leave her home. -Joyce

In the story Eveline, written by James Joyce, the protagonist, Eveline, made a

promise to her Mother, before she died, to take care of her family and home. Eveline can either stay home to keep her promise or go to Buenos Aires with her boyfriend Frank, in which she may not see her family for a very long time. This is the central

conflict of the novel. Eveline chooses to stay home rather than going with Frank; she feels more safe with her family.

She would be leaving her family and home where she grew up, and all of her

memories. She would be leaving every little part of her everyday life if she left. Joyce writes, “Home! She looked round the room, reviewing all its familiar objects which

she had dusted once a week for so many years, wondering where on earth all the dust came from. Perhaps she would never see again those familiar objects from which she

had never dreamed of being divided”(1-2). Eveline has so many things to think about if she leaves. If she left, her home might end up being dirty because Eveline has taken care of her Father for so long that he may not be able to take care of himself, his

family and their home. Eveline remembers from when she was little that, “One time

there used to be a field there in which they used to play every evening with other

people’s children”(1). Eveline would be leaving all of her friends. She might never see those familiar views again she might never see the kids of the neighborhood again, or her home and family.

Most importantly she would be leaving her family. Joyce writes, “she had those

whom she had known all her life about her” (2). If she leaves she would have to find a new job, meet new people, and start her whole life over again. Ever since Eveline

thought about going to Buenos Aires with Frank she noticed that, “Her father was becoming old lately, she noticed; he would miss her” (4). Would Eveline miss her

Father? Would her Father be able to take care of the children and the home? If her

Father is becoming old, would she leave him? Eveline would constantly be thinking about her Father if she left, her Father might be able to take care of himself and the house although, it might be different if Eveline would be taking care of it.

Is it wise for Eveline to go to Buenos Aires? Eveline has thought for a long time

and, “She had consented to go away, to leave her home. Was that wise? She tried to

weigh each side of the question. In her home anyway she had shelter and food” (2).

Eveline knows that she will be safe at home because she has lived there her whole life and probably knows almost everything about it. She wouldn’t have to start her life

over again. Eveline is about to get onto the boat to go the Buenos Aires but, “All the seas of the world tumbled about her heart. He was drawing her into them: he would drown her. She gripped with both hands at the iron railing”(6). Maybe Eveline

wouldn’t feel safe with Frank. She decided to stay home with her family because she felt safe there and knew that place too well to leave.

This is her second thought. Eveline thinks that “in her new home, in a distant

unknown country, it would not be like that. Then she would be married-she, Eveline. People would treat her with respect then”(2). Eveline might feel safe with Frank but

she has known her family longer and she might know them better and feel more safe with her family. Joyce writes, “She stood up in a sudden impulse of terror. Escape! She must escape!”(5) Maybe she would feel more safe with Frank, she might want something new, something different. But, what if she regrets it. Maybe she would miss her memories and family.

This story tells us that it might be safer if we stay with what we know and trust,

although there is room for some adventure in our lives. But, in our lives, it is good for us to try something new, something different, and to be different than others. Eveline has a huge choice between staying home with everything that she grew up with and

knows, and staying with her family or, going to Buenos Aires with Frank and getting a new job, meeting new people, and basically starting her life over again.

Waist Away or Try Harder, Emma Nielsen

Technology is a useful servant but a dangerous master. -Christian Lous Lange

Through the years our country has become a lot of things, more populated,

smarter, richer, more independent, over all, very different since the beginning of time. One of biggest changes would be that we have stopped putting everything we’ve got

into our life goals. Instead of working to make everything out of our lives, we distract ourselves with little things that don’t matter. We are not just giving up on our own

life, but we are giving up on the life of the Earth. The Earth has given so much to us.

If we spent as much time as we do thinking about our lives in technology as thinking about how we can save the world, our world might just make it a little bit longer. So far we are headed down a darker path.

The song Scare Away the Dark by Michael David Rosenberg, tells how much

our world has changed. How we should spend less time worrying about how many

likes we get on Instagram or who is the next Bachelor. The song points toward how good life can be when you are with people you love, and how easily technology can ruin that. The song encourages us to live our lives with passion.

Rosenberg warns us of the dangers of becoming apathetic. Our world has

become lazier since the start of humanity because things in our life have become so much easier. Rosenberg writes, “We wish we weren't losers and liars and

quitters”(22), meaning that we are giving up because it in this new age it won’t make a huge difference in our lives. “Well, we wish we were happier, thinner and fitter,” (21).

Doing nothing with our lives will not make us feel good whether it’s physically or

mentally. We have become too unmotivated to change our ways, we are just copying what we grew up watching. Even if these are bad examples we don’t do anything

about it. We'll “Drink ourselves stupid … And all just because that's what mom and dad said we should do” (7,9). We copy what we see as we grow up and as each generation is getting lazier.

Human interactions have become less passionate because of technology. Before

computers and cellphones, interactions were more intimate, we talked to each other without having to pause to check instagram or take a selfie. Rosenberg sings, “We

want something real not just hashtags and Twitter” (24) it is important that we know all of these social media sites we all care about so much are not real. These “friends”

you have on the internet, they are not real. Rosenberg states,“It's the meaning of life

and it's streamed live on YouTube” (25). People don’t really know what life is but by watching these live streams of people they believe they do. Nowadays (especially my

generation) people have found that a television shows or variations of social media are more important than finding joy without technology. This has changed the way that we interact in the world. Rosenberg believes,“We should stare at the stars and not

just the screens” (14) showing that there are all these beautiful things in this world, but we decided to look at screens. If we each took a moment to look up from our

phones to even smile at someone on the street, think of how much happier our world would be. Rosenberg observes, “But I bet Gangnam Style will still get more

views”(26) We are putting people on the internet before real people in our own life. Through generations, technology has become more advanced and somehow more

important. In this world of technology, “feel, feel like you still have a choice”(31) you

have the power to shut off your technology. Be the change, be the person that stops

using technology for everything in our lives. “If we all light up we can scare away the dark”(32) meaning that we can all quit treating our technology like a sort of god.

Rosenberg encourages us to make the best out of the life that we are given. We

shouldn’t spend all of our time sitting in a cubical wasting away. There are all these

bad things in our lives but there are other choices. There are so many things we can do with our life “We should run through the forest, we should swim in the

streams”(10-11), do things that we love. We should feel real emotions, we spend so

much time in our life doing things that would be looked down on by the people who were a part of the huge milestones that made our country as advanced as it is.

Rosenberg believes that “We should laugh, we should cry, we should love, we should dream” (12-13) We should stop watching emotions on television and go out into the world and find some of our own.

We are becoming so attached to these machines. Technology is a very

useful piece of equipment but we should never put it before a human,

whether that be a loved one or a stranger you passed on the street. It has been proven that you need human interactions to survive. No matter how much we think we do, we do not need technology to survive. Before the invention of technology people were not only better with each other but a lot more active.

Holding On, Skylar White

Know well what leads you forward and what holds you back, and choose the path that leads you to wisdom. -Buddha

You may not control all the events that happen to you, but you can decide not to be reduced by them.

-Maya Angelou

The world is full of change. Watch any movie or read any book and you will

find the characters and the plot consist of change. Humans are full of change. But change haunts us because it is uncontrollable, untamable. However, when change

comes to tear up our lives, we can choose what to do with it. If we use change as an

opportunity to step out of our comfort zones and begin to seek new ones, we might

succeed. But if we attempt to hold onto our pasts we will get stuck in them. Because even though our pasts were created to be let go of, we sometimes use them to define ourselves, instead of our futures.

In his short story, Eveline, James Joyce writes of a young girl, whose life has

been fragmented by change. Her mother died when she was a child, as well as her

brother and many of her childhood friends. Now, Eveline is facing a choice: She can either step into an adventurous and exciting life with her boyfriend, Frank, or linger in Berlin, Ireland with her father and the two young orphans she has taken into her

home. Throughout the story, Eveline ponders the two paths she could take, but she

knows that whichever path she chooses will be the path that allows her to hold onto her cherished past.

Since Eveline was a young girl, she feared change, because she could only see

the damage it had caused her and not the good. Eveline felt her fear as she “stared

about the avenue, and remembered how, ‘That was a long time ago. Her brothers and sisters were all grown up, and her mother was dead. Tizzie Dunn was dead too…

Everything changes” (1). Eveline’s fear of change had led her to resist it, even though

it affected the world around her. “Outside her window, the field in which she used to play is being destroyed, to make room for “bright brick houses with shining roofs”

(Joyce 1). Not only did Eveline resist change, she never let it lead her anywhere. She

felt that change was bad in the short term, and had never trusted it enough to lead her to be a better person.

When sitting by the window in her childhood room, pondering her choices,

Eveline tried to convince herself that her father needed her at home, and that his well being would determine her decision to stay or leave. She didn’t know or didn’t want to admit that her choice would really depend on the safety of her memories. She

reminded herself that “Her father was becoming old lately... He would miss her.

Sometimes he could be very nice” (3) But even though she told herself that her father was really kind at heart, he was overall described as bitter and abusive. Eveline was becoming more and more in danger of her father and had “nobody to protect her:

Ernest was dead and Harry was nearly always down somewhere in the country” (3). For most of the story, Eveline was stagnant, wavering between choices and

debating the benefits of each. She sat in her room; “her head was leaned against the

window curtain and in her nose was the odour of dusty cretonne.” (1) The cretonne is

obviously important, and Eveline seemed to be relying on it to make her decision. Perhaps the cretonne was once her mother’s, and held memories, tucked away for when Eveline needed them. In fact, all of her culminating senses seemed to be

conjuring memories for her to clutch onto. Her room was a place she went to comfort herself and bring her back to her past. Out in the avenue, “She could hear a street

organ playing…. A melancholy air of Italy. She knew the air” (5). This music brought on a flashback of Eveline’s mother’s last night. She remembered the dark room, and

her mother shouting the Italian saying, “Derevaun Seraun, Derevaun Seraun!”, which is translated as “There is no pleasure without pain.”

A boat blew a long mournful whistle into the mist. If she went, tomorrow she

would be on the sea with Frank, steaming towards Buenos Aires. Their passage had been booked. Could she still draw back after all he had done for her? Her distress

awoke a nausea in her body and she kept moving her lips in a silent fervent prayer. A bell clanged upon her heart. She felt him seize her hand.

“Come!” All the seas of the world tumbled about her heart. He was drawing

her into them: he would drown her. She gripped both hands on the iron railing. In the culminating paragraph of Eveline, a sense of parallelism, or

representation, can be found. The sea is a constantly shifting, adapting and changing

being. In fact, it is said that the sea is a symbol for change. It is uncontrollable, and has a mind of its own. Eveline, who resists change, stands directly in the middle of it and believes the sea will take advantage of her, drown her, and she will never be able to

find her way back. She resists the ocean, as she resists change, because she is not able to let go of her memories.

It has been said many times, in many different ways, that there is no such thing

as a story without change. Though the journey may be difficult, we must seek a home in the world, and never stop chasing it. Sometimes we get stuck and attempt to hold

onto the past, even though it no longer exists. That is bound to happen. But there are powers in the world we cannot control and the moment we exist in is really the only self we have. So what can be said other than to quest bravely and open your soul to change, because change can lead you to wisdom, and wisdom will lead you home.

Differences, Matthew Watters

“It is not our differences that divide us. It is our inability to recognize, accept, and celebrate those differences.”

-Audre Lorde

In our world, people are different. Not everyone shares the same looks,

thoughts, opinions, or ideas. Most people in our world seem to accept that, but some don't. These people that don't, create a separation between the two of them. They

make them outcasts to our society and make them feel as if they don’t belong in this

world. But being different is not a bad thing, everyone in our world holds meaning in their own different way. Every person plays an important role in our society, and

even if they are different from an ordinary person, there is no reason to neglect them from our world.

Sherman Alexie's This Is What It Means To Say Phoenix, Arizona presents this

corrupt society within an Indian reservation. In this reservation, each Indian goes

about their life simply without much care, except one person. Because he is different, Thomas Builds-The-Fire is an outcast to this society. Each and every Indian holds a grudge against Thomas, but Thomas acts as something that brings meaning to this

dark and cold world. Thomas’s actions and views on life differentiate from a normal Indian on the Reservation, creating a big separation between him and them.

One of the main reasons that Thomas is such an outcast in this society is

because of his story telling. Thomas is known as the “storyteller that nobody wants to listen to”(Alexie 2). This obsession of storytelling has created an annoyance that has been directed towards Thomas. This is because Thomas has created a different

mindset and personality than the other indians through his storytelling. Thomas’s

friend Victor “knew that Thomas would remain the crazy storyteller who talked to

dogs and cars, who listened to the wind and pine trees” (14). All of these crazy things that Thomas does are all influenced by his storytelling. Every storyteller has a wide

imagination, causing them to think and do different things than an ordinary person. All of the stories that Thomas has to tell are either ignored or vaguely payed

attention to by the other Indians. But all of Thomas’s stories have some sort of

meaning to them. Once Thomas had told a story about Victor’s father, “Sometimes he feels like he wants to buy a motorcycle and ride away. He wants to run and hide. He doesn’t want to be found” (3). This story that Thomas had told seemed crazy, but in

reality “Thomas Builds-the-Fire had known Victor’s father was going to leave, knew it before anyone” (3). This story was actually true, Thomas had known all along that

Victor's father wanted to leave his family and get as far away as he could. This is why Thomas’s stories are so important, because they may seem crazy but in reality have some sort of meaning. There was a time when Thomas had a dream that he told a

story of. Thomas told, “For a long time I was mad because I thought my dreams had lied to me. But they didn’t. Your dad was my vision. Take care of each other is what

my dreams were saying. Take care of each other” (10). All of these dreams and stories Thomas has to tell actually hold some sort of meaning and importance to them and aren't some crazy fantasy story.

Thomas’s actions are another reason for why he is so different. Thomas does

things that no other indian would even have the slightest thought of doing. There was

once a day when, “Thomas Builds-the-Fire could fly. Once, he jumped off the roof of

the tribal school and flapped his arms like a crazy eagle. And he flew. For a second, he hovered, suspended above all the other Indian boys who were too smart or too scared to jump” (11). Every Indian sat in awe as Thomas was able to fly for that short

amount of time, no other Indian could even think of ever doing such a thing. That is why there is such a difference between Thomas and everyone else, because what

Thomas does is not even a thought for the other indians. There was also a time where “Thomas, that crazy Indian storyteller with ratty old braid and broken teeth, was

flirting with a beautiful Olympic gymnast” (7). Thomas is the only Indian who has the guts to do crazy things, such a thing as to flirt with a girl who he does not look

worthy for. All of these crazy things that Thomas does are what truly defines him, an outcast to his world.

Without Thomas, the other Indian’s life would not be as interesting and have as

much meaning. Although Thomas may be an annoyance to the other indians doesn’t

mean that he has no meaning to them. All of Thomas’s actions contain an importance that all of the other indians would not have if it were not for him. After Thomas’s courageous act of flying, “He broke his arm in two places. “He broke his wing,”

Victor chanted, and the other Indian boys joined in, made it a tribal song” (11). If it

were not for Thomas, the other indians would not march around and sing their song they created about Thomas. That day at school would not be as interesting and fun

for the other indians if it weren't for Thomas. This is why Thomas brings importance

to their world, because the crazy things he has to say and do are meaningful and bring

something new to this dark corrupt world they live in.

Throughout this story Thomas remains the same, an outcast to his society. The

main reason for the discrimination Thomas faces is because he is different, and the

other Indians donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t seem to accept that. Thomasâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s actions, thoughts and ideas conflict

with the others and because of this he faces the challenge of being an outcast. The way that the other Indians view and treat Thomas is not the way that it should be, all of the crazy things Thomas has to say or do are the only things that bring something different to this world. Without Thomas the world for the Indians would hold no meaning, but they don't seem to realize this. In this story Alexie presents

discrimination, and this is a major problem we face in our world today. But if you are different, that does not mean that you should be neglected from our society, because everyone is different in their own way.

Poetry

Games, Anna Hitch They fiddle with our brains, They wrap a chain around us They trap us, turn us to clowns, we try to get out of the cage they keep us in, but weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re stuck, put us behind bars, Steal our past, bring us the future, The vast stars bring us hope They cover us with scars The rope surrounds us with Comfort, still playing games, messing with our minds They make us blind, caused by beautiful marigolds, shining bright in the sun lighting our way, into nothing nothing but Darkness, with the light behind, more games ahead, games of life and death, Wrong, but soon your path will clear, wait, then the brightest light appears, step by step, following, a follower goes off path into light. Games, games, mind fooling Games, steal your soul, make it dark, never give it back, theyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll leave a mark.

Faces, Anna Hitch We see them, try to Ignore them, some of Them bore us, some of them pleasure us, some of them hold treasures, Some of them hold dishonor, Ugly ones, pretty ones, That one's a goner, They hold the sun's light Leading us wrong places, wishing we were them, Tearing us apart, scratching At our hearts, we plead, but they still Overcome us, soon they will bow Down to us, peasants in our kindom, Faces, faces, beautiful faces, You will soon be under my spell, Like I was under yours, You will be nothing to nobody, And will follow my every command, Faces, faces, beautiful faces, Follow me, donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t go into the light, Follow me to the dark side, You will surely like it there, 66

My water will be pure, So like my heart, you will Be granted with treasures, and gold, in the end we will fight, Face, to, face.

King, Anna Hitch Running around, Sleeples, You will be mine, One day, Your heart is dark Like your soul You make us stand in a line, like Weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re prisoners of The kingdom

Life, Flynn Ellis So how does life works Its baffling, eerie, Its... malevolent as the deepest caverns, loathsome as the most deadly snake. Death Life look forward to stuff that you want for friends Tears drip Anger inflames you attacks our soul, so angry, so stingy it attacks at horrible times. Happiness You Hate people You like people You might like something You may not Emotions make you who you are Everything makes who you are Your life is just a blink of A Eye In the existence of earth You travel See So many things But Our news is fill with humanâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s monstrous side it bites with death, sadness and war, 69

even here, in schools, in great America we can't hide we can't run we can only stay in the moment . We have to understand Live life fully Cry be happy Be Your own person Happy places Mine is slap shots Wrist shots, snap shots Sweat dripping down in a turrent. In a life full of anger and sadness, find your peace.

Cat, Flynn Ellis Six: My cat goes hunting every day She wears patches of orange And brings her claws And her stealth Twelve Naptime Two: stretch and hunt again Finally, a mouse Present time on your shower floor Guts and blood Four: waiting at the window Still waiting Naptime Curled into a ball, hereâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s the car Eight: bedtime Reading books and biting toes to practice hunting.

Woods After Dark, Elsie Hall

I Step foot into the evening air All my fears taken with care The dark cold blades under my feet Through the breeze I hear my own heartbeat Faded pink behind trees and leaves Take step closer to hear the forest breath Strong trunks stand in the growing dark Silhouettes against, the stars just a backdrop arc Small eyes pear out, whispers of the land They watch silently under the forests command Voices a jumble of tunes of different times Who may realize when they listen the jumble is a rhyme over my shoulder the old wood house To where the beckoning voices crouch I push the branches aside and search for where the footprints that scatter the soft forest floor A sea shell gleaming white above the trees The pale light surrounds me as I fall to my knees The world of branches scoops me to safety World spins, settles into blackness and becomes hazy

The blackness caries me to light I open my eyes to golden delight A bird calls through morning fog I walk down a path of hope to the fallen log

Midnight Hooves, Elsie Hall grass gently waves in a green curve of light I hear the whispers and calls of the night the glowing air is cool and fresh a wild eye blinks before it rests the grass a soft bed to 4 very tired legs he settles down for a while and rests his head after a hour or two he rises to explore the valley he runs the wind is his face fast the finale now the thundering hooves slows to an easy canter he runs along the ridge his power a glowing lantern the river stretches below, a blue glittering snake he runs past only to make the forest awake as he dashes through the trees in a playful scamper he calls a lonely winny pauses to no answer he continues on his way through morning shine searching for the horses that lived by the big pines

Oppression, Kai Mclennan I was sitting in my own house, it was as quiet as a mouse. I was there just counting all my good fortunes and all my blessings. Suddenly there was a knocking and I heard people talking, Whispering about secrets and mocking people who are guessing. I was one of those people, those citizens who are always guessing. The people were oppressing. The sunlight streamed in, a godly hand touching and warming my skin. My good fortunes became numerous, so I began digressing. Louder grew the talking, I was bursting, I had to start walking. But I couldn’t start walking, I wasn’t allowed, it was depressing. The curfew made me confined to my dreary drab house, it was depressing. I am stuck in oppression. This is a government trap, I was confined in my peaceful nap. I had to do this, I could not protest, I was acquiescing To the control of the powers, so the people and the flowers Would not perish and glower, everyone was always assessing I had to keep quiet because the controllers were assessing. The government oppressing. The chair squeaked, a ghost screaming, it was stuck like me, scared and screaming. I had to be dreaming but I wasn’t dreaming, I wasn’t progressing. The people were still talking, and I was just sitting and rocking I can’t move, I can’t talk, I can’t walk, this is very distressing. Too much control, the people outside are very distressing. Everyone is oppressing. 75

I have to do something, say something, say anything to not be trapped. A cloud falls over, I am slapped by the fact that this is depressing. I am stuck in a hopeless abyss, I clench and tighten my fist. It darkens as mist rolls in, even the mist is suppressing. The gray mist is covering us, it is very suppressing. The people are oppressing. The waves are crashing in on top of me, as I want to get to sea. They are forcing me back, I need a break in waves that are suppressing. I go up high, I duck down low, but the waves still roll over me and mow. I need to fight back but I can’t, courage is what I’m not possessing. I need to rebel but I can’t, courage is what I’m not possessing. The loud waves are oppressing. The splashes echo in my head, and I feel as if I am dead. Suddenly there is a dry click that I dread, the door opening. It is the people who I am now numb to, they have finally come. The people who were talking about how dumb we are have come pressing. The people who were talking and mocking have come pressing. They have come for oppressing. “Put your hands up and pray,” the terrible unnerving men say. They come with scowls. “It is the day, the day of your arresting”. I cower and hide in my chair, pretending that no one is there. But that is not the reality, I can’t keep pretending. They are here in my house, my own house, and I can’t keep pretending. Everyone is oppressing. The terrible men have blocked the light, they also have blocked my fight. 76

I have to do what is right, but I can’t, I am confessing. Maybe this is my fate, but I am full of everlasting hate. Hate of the system, hate of people, hate of citizens oppressing. Hate of government, hate of no freedom, hate of citizens oppressing. I hate people oppressing. They walk slowly towards me, and their steps are thundering on the ground. As their feet pound, they turn to me and they begin addressing. “You are plotting against leaders,” they say with the hum of my heater. I need to fight but I can't, “no,” I tell myself I am obsessing. I need to fight back but I can’t, I tell myself I am obsessing. Government is oppressing. Their iron fists come down on me, I am now far away from the sea. They lock me up, I can’t fight back, it is me they are possessing. They took me, walked me away, saying their job is done for the day. The sky has become gray, modeling my mood which is depressing. The sky is the same as what I am feeling which is depressing. They are being oppressing. I am taken to a dark, uniform, cell, where I have to stay still. It is one room, where the light is faint, old, and always fluorescing. I guess it is my fate and I might stay in here forever and die late. Then again, I am clueless and always forever guessing. I will never know the truth and I will always be guessing. Because people oppressing. I need to get out of here, I need to also get some cheer. But I don’t have any gear, I have nothing, I am not progressing. How can I fix this? How can I get out of here? I need to go. I need to leave, it is the situation that I am assessing. 77

I need to go, it is the situation that I am assessing. This jail cell is oppressing. I found it finally, they left the door unlocked just for me. I run out as fast as I can, this is very hard and stressing. I get to a junction, where do I go? My brain canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t function. Do I take a right or a left? This decision is impressing. What do I do? This choice is very scary and impressing. This choice is oppressing. I choose randomly and run down the path, like a honeybee. This path is changing me, with my frightened mind it is messing. I run until I see light, I run around the guards with no fight. I am free to run, free to do whatever even digressing. I am finally free to be who I am, with no digressing. People are not oppressing. I look back and I see guards, chasing, running, sprinting after me. I turn and run, run for the sea, this is very distressing. What happened to my freedom? What happened to this fine kingdom? It has turned corrupt and controlling, I am actually guessing. People wanted power and people got power, I am guessing. This kingdom is oppressing. I run and run and run, I run until my legs are tired and done. This isnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t fun, but this is what I have to do to get a blessing. I look back and I have finally lost them, which is not a shame. I just walk randomly, and I begin to start digressing. I take random turns, and I begin to start digressing. No one is oppressing. I am finally free, free to be whoever I want to be. 78

I can be me, I have now overcome people suppressing. I can do whatever I want, I can write in any font. This life, this life is no longer depressing, never depressing. This life, this time is no longer depressing, never depressing. It is no longer oppressing.

Fearless, Ellory Hare My feet hit the wood of the barn, the dusty aroma lingers in the air. The leather saddles stream the wall like feathers. My hand grasps the slick rope of a halter. The horse's head drops for the hackamore. The clicking noise of the hooves against the ground. So loud compared to the quiet of the dawn. The brush runs through the fur like a song. The mornings smooth rush of the river. I swing the saddle pad up the withers. The saddle weight rests upon the back. The horse releases a small exhale of content. The swishing of a tail reminds me of a long trail. The morning silent, for the slow breath of the horse. He opens his mouth with ease for the bit. I settle in the saddle like a breeze. The horse trots and is surrounded with leaves.

The wind whistles and the trees shout. The horse runs with no doubt. The dew covered grass sweeps the hooves. Creating a fearless path that always moves.

Starting Fresh, Ellory Hare She wakes from her long winter nap. Shaking the little crystals of snow off of her branches. The warm sun hitting her long aspen fingers. The clouds travel away revealing a crystal blue sky. Spring is finally here. The elk head up the valley, and the buffalo move down. The apple blossoms will soon be blooming and the tulips will soon be growing. The daffodils will be shining lights sent from God. A blessing with no disguise. The rivers will full, and the lakes will shimmer with happiness. The foals will spring and bounce with the bunnies, beautiful creations from God. The sun will shine more and more melting the snow. Revealing the green blades of grass. Raspberries will soon appear on the bushes. A sweet treat that holds happiness. The valley is starting fresh with new life. The dandelions will pop, a beautiful flower to a child. The blue birds are flying home. The caterpillars will soon turn to the beautiful butterflies of a little girl's dream. The lush green valley a gift from God. A little chick hides in the stems of a daffodil that shines light to all.

Home, Ellory Hare My childhood grew on a ranch. Snowy in the winter, either hot or cold in the spring, lush green in the summer, and orange coated the valley in autumn. People cover the lake with boats in the summer. Moss Phlox invaded canyon rocks. Horse nickers greet the crisp morning air. Frosty, dew covered grass crunches with mock. Hibernation will end for the bears. The earth trembles from the horses running shock. The sweet smell of warm tea. Birds will sing their musical talk. The buzzing near your ear of a bee. Swing, grunt, release. Saddle after saddle. The sweet smell of leather, one of the best aromas on the ranch. Hooves create a battle of tan dust. The reward of a riding test. Fresh cold water after a dayâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s ride. Sunday drivers travel through the land, looking for shimmering diamonds. Red, orange, and yellow leaves bind the trees. Fall holds a rainbow of colors. Red holly berries. Orange aspen leaves. Yellow grass. Shallow green pine. Blue sky. Blue bell flowers. The horses will grow there winter coats. The bears will go back to hibernation. 83

The water will be still with no boats. The flowers will go back to a sleeping nation. Snowy crystals will start to fall, creating a blanket of snow. The valley will soon be full again with people playing in the frozen diamonds.

Vanish Land, Kiera Kline How strange the meeting of souls A heart now happy then yet sad What distributes what dreams A storm raw and raging More broken than before Believe love should feel like night - Looking all alone for light Broken beauty and the oldest harmonyPicking up pieces is all they know- Rotation is all we need -

Darkness, Samuel Baruwa There is darkness, UP and down Flying around In the ocean In the forest Swimming & runnin From the light Up in the mountains Up in the sky Flying & hiding From the light From the light.

Keep running Home, Samuel Baruwa You are my light, And i will keep Running home to you. Will fly a kite. Will hug you tight, Will not fight. And my promise To keep running, Home to you.

Music, Grace Regan Rushing through the air Pay attention to the sound Close our eyes, listen to the beat Mouth the words, turn it up loud Breath deeply, feel rare The ground is steaming Thinking alone, striding down the streets Look down the road, the world is leaning

Fears, Grace Regan I hate my fears My fears love me, They are stuck to myself Like an annoying bee. They hurt Like a stab in the kidney They make me Frail While they sting like a bee. I make them strong Un-purposefully. On roller coasters, Up higher than a tree Stop, Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m trapped They take advantage of me. They love the dark, I love the bright days that are free. I enjoy horseback riding They donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t let me. I want to close my eyes, But they consume my thoughts of three. They are more powerful Than me. Put them in the bottom of the soul, I tell myself. I wish to be free. In the bottom of the soul, I plea. I hate my fears My fears love me.

Time, Grace Regan Tick, tock, tick, tock, the clock never stops Gazing out the window, listening to the heart beat, Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum Staring at the birds tweet. Tick, tock, tick, tock The shadow glares over me The wind whistles, the trees shout There is no doubt, the world is free. Tick, tock, tick, tock Drive to the horizon, fall of the Earth Tap, tap, tap, shake the fears off Listen, for what it's worth. Tick, tock, tick, tock Reflecting off the glass, the true feelings within, Anger, fear, joy, sadness, hope, love, Keeping them inside, life is a whirlwind. Tick, tock, tick, tock, Escape your mind, your thoughts Breathe deeply, remember the moments Learn to connect the dots.

Love, Riley Zeleznik Love comes from the inside But sometimes inside out Love your moms, dads, and sisters even though they sometimes shout Love your brother and dog too Let your inside love for them shine For they will always be you best friends Even though they sometimes whine.

Underface, Riley Zeleznik Underneath my outside face There's a face that none can see A little less smiley, A little less sure, But a whole lot more like me.

Frozen, Riley Zeleznik The trees normally swaying, are still The stream that was moving, halted. Birds who used to sing, sat still on branches, The whole image around me is faulted. The flowers who were bright, fade The woods sat still, a frozen picture A broken wish, a fallen star They mourn over the hopeless day

Reality, Riley Zeleznik Hope is like a rope Let go and you will fall Fear is like a wall It blocks you from reality And makes you feel very small

From Bay Horse Lake, Skylar White If children are burdenless, than I am spirit Ankles touching thighs Peering into the water A shard of emerald worn in the waves that sculpted My soul Cutting me so I fit the mold smooth edges until my blood runs pure An inside out body with hollow cheeks and painted skin reflected In the lake

Liv, Skylar White You used to wake up in her bed Tangled in her quilts Mesmerized by the sugar spun clouds That marched across her ceiling You used to sit at the kitchen counter Snuggled in a blanket with her, crunching cereal And watching Saturday morning cartoons You used to giggle When she swiped lipstick across your face As you wobbled around In her glossy leather pumps You used to listen to pop music That streamed constantly out of her ipod Basking in the fog of deep vocals And heart racing beats You used to thump downstairs To hammer on her drumset And she would smile As she covered her ears You used to taste the sky When she bounced you on her trampoline Screaming on the way down Your mouth stained with blue

You used to travel with her Through the portal into Fairyland Where she wore a crown in her curls And the creatures bowed down to her You used to sit at the head of her dinner table, propped up by a few pillows And cry when you spilled your drink Tears dripped off your nose as you mopped it up You used to cut up scrap material Sew it together with pink thread And make little memory quilts Just for her She was the big sister you never had The one that showed you to the world But you’ll never get to tell her That you still think of her often Or that you cried when she left your school Or that you’ve got two new pets Or that your room is different now Or that you go to a new school Or that you’ll never listen to “Rolling in the Deep” without thinking of her Or that you still want her black leather pumps Or that you hate that she straightened her hair Or that you glimpsed her once in a grocery store and grimaced at her makeup Or that you didn’t talk to her at her grandpa's funeral because you were 97

afraid Or that you will never have a friendship like the one you had with her Or that you wrote this poem For her. -For my Olivia

Without Trees, Tucker Warden What would we do without trees Make paper with chicken’s lost feathers? I truly don’t know what we would do. Possibly railings made of leather!? I truly don’t know what we would do For things like fueling our fires. Maybe we’d use old Sofas Or something like deflated bike tires What could we use to whittle? Some leftover bone from last night's dinner It would be to hard to shape Most likely just make it thinner!

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