HOPE: Holding Onto Positive Experiences by Jennifer Gruca

A Collaboration of Voices 2010-2011

When The Sun Sets : Haidyn’s Lullaby When the sun sets, we must forget and leave behind all regrets.

When the sun sets, we must forget and learn to start living for the moment.

For when the moon rises, stars bring new surprises. A new midnight is born— a new rose with new thorns.

For when the moon rises, starts bring bundles of surprises— A new baby is born— A new rose with new thorns

When the sun sets, we must forget and not stress over what’s already happened.

And the next time the sun sets, We’ll know, the next day, that when the sun comes back again— A new day will begin.

For when the moon rises, stars bring new surprises. A new midnight is born— a new day adorned.

~Caitlin Arquines 6th grade student

When the sun set, I sat in a dark and lonely waiting room After time passed, I knew what it meant. When I heard someone play the short and sweet tune:

Photo Credit: Marc Pusateri ~Father of Aly Pusateri Cover Photo Credit: Aly Pusateri ~6th grade student

HOPE Hanging Onto Positive Experiences â&#x20AC;&#x153;When The Sun Setsâ&#x20AC;? John F. Kennedy Middle School Voices of 2010-2011 3

Friends You and me We may be different in so many ways But That‟s okay It can be just between you and me— our little secret We are magnetic together forever Sticking up for you You‟re my best friend I hope you know that is true It is just me and you Sticking like glue Forever and always Friends ~Katie Smith 6th grade student

Art Credit: Gretchen Freebern 6th grade student

Art Credit: Alexia Chibovytsch 8th grade student

Dyslexia

Hush Haiku Leave town and take pride Beneath the frown is power Be thankful for life. ~Carina Vasquez 8th grade student

She sits there quietly, Watching her classmates stare at her, How she really wishes sincerely, If she were a shadow so nobody would see her; She isn’t able to understand, Why no one is able to see, That there are some things she can’t understand, And hopes if someone could see; She isn’t able to follow directions ore read, But finally someone realizes, That all she sees are jumbled things that she can’t read, And helps her become the person who she really is; To her it becomes a reason, To admire and trust this wonderful person. 4

~Sakina Musani 8th grade student

Family Inspired by the novel Hush Black sister ran track Dad speaks little and sadly Fake pretty smiles. ~ Megan Stetzer 8th grade student

Determination I come from a long line of determination of perseverance. Pain that fades. Going, going. Pain is gone. Then comes the determination. A death happens then pain. Going, going gone. Then determination. Death. Then pain eases its way in... but determination overcomes.

Painting on Nature‟s Canvas The tainted sky glistens with rain‟s creation The sky is your canvas; the paint you supply Beautiful colors painted with exaggeration As spring finds its way into the sky The sun sends rays of gold from behind the mist The spring grass thirstily soaks up the dew Running through the air, the clouds pass by in a twist The colorless sky puts on a new hue Above me, higher than any peak, Brings my eye a special treasure A bunch of colors laid out in streaks The beauty no one can measure The snow melted when winter unfurled Now spring finds its way into the world ~Maggie Hackett Mrs. Hackett‟s daughter

~Lamech Young 6th grade student

Art Credit: Chris Shanley Nicole Shanley‟s brother

Photo Credit: Kailee Eggert 6th grade student

“Trapped in Shattered Memory” by Kyle Cook 8th grade student Dust flew throughout the air as stone walls crumbled to the ground. With a quick glance, the workers nearby; who looked nearly 10 years old, maybe younger, using picks to shatter a rock. Maybe they‟d find some sort of material that they can trade in for better clothing; not mud-stained, torn up piles of rags. But I was no different. I looked down to see my own tattered clothing, brown from dirt and red from fresh blood. I looked up, only to see the darkness of the chamber, and a rare hole or crack, sometimes peaking small beams of light through. Our eyes were tired and our bodies ached from the prison here. We would do the same process of digging up materials and minerals, only for large guards in black cloaks to take it from us. And rarely, every so rarely, one of us isn‟t lucky enough to find a material or mineral for the surface guards… They were killed. Whether it be sword down your back or spear to the head, it has either torture or pure death. But the guards were being the dumb one for a minute, while three kids, each of them about 11, used the mining tunnel as a passageway out. The plan was risky, seeing how two guards always protected the exit with bowguns that could strike you 30 feet away. But they thought of a plan to distract the guards so much that instead of warning, they‟d go up to the person to punish them face-to-face. During that time, the two others could use their shovels and picks to dispatch the guards, possibly knock them out. But they knew that wouldn‟t last long, because another two guards would be waiting outside as well. So the trio thought of using the bowguns dropped by the first two guards as bait. Their plan would be working perfectly. They dispatched the next two guards and took their swords. Those would work better then throwing rocks. They couldn‟t take the cloaks, as they were meant for people 5‟9” and up. Working in the mines doesn‟t help your posture. So my then, guards would probably surround them. They suspected that and used diamonds to reflect the sunlight to blind the attackers. A little farther and they‟d be out of the underground nightmare. But they forgot to put one thing in their plan when they went to execute it... The boss. He had a sword on one hip, bowgun on the other, quiver full of arrows strapped to his back. So that was it. The boss killed them for attempt of resistance. So with these kids gone, there proved another problem, making the ruins under the earth inescapable. So now, everyone would be trapped in their shattered memories. Brave Inspired by the novel Hush

Haiku inspired by The Jungle

Brave girl unhappy Mom and Dad constantly fight Where my friends are few.

Power whispers near Manipulating weakness We fight on screaming! ~ Mimi Moore 8th grade student

~ Sami Dunlap 8th grade student

I Am From… I am from where you see the radio blasting with music from CD’s, where you see paper spread out all over with pencils writing, to tennis balls flinging in the backyard with dogs wagging their tails. I am from the neighborhood with kids playing while the sky is light blue with white fluffy clouds. I am from the siblings of Jantha, Ascher, Tiya and J.J. I am from the sayings of, “Let’s go to the barn, Jantha,” and “Yaso, clean up your room,” to “Kids, feed the dogs.” Then if you go to my kitchen, you’ll see the staple food of Thai, rice, Dad’s water- dripping, barbeque chicken legs. I am from the orphanages that my parent went to adopt the five of us. One is from China and the rest are from Thailand. I am from the Christmas morning with the big loving family to Thai Family Reunions that are filled with laughter and water- mouthing Asian food. I am from the hobbies of nonstop dancing and singing in my room to my mom signing American Sign Language (ASL) for my 1 hard of hearing sister and my 1 deaf sister. You will hear the sounds of the Wii going on, to the sounds of my mom and sister talking about her riding on her horse. Then at night you’ll hear the quiet sound of the radio quietly playing songs in my room so that I may fall asleep.

-Yaso Laemmer 8th grade student

That is where I am from.

Monster

Inspired by The Jungle Meat is their monster His dream is far away Their lives fall too fast. ~Colleen Arquines 8th grade student

Photo Credit: Tod Shafer Andrew Collins‟s Grandpa 7

Springtime It‟s almost summer but not quite yet We want to play outside but the ground is too wet We had Spring Break but it wasn‟t enough Coming back to school was really so rough We‟re tired of our Xbox and sick of our Wii We want the sun to come out so we can be free This may sound strange or not even cool But this time of year I just want a pool The bird‟s are chirping and the flowers in bloom School‟s almost out and then it is June On the last day of school as you walk down the hall Don‟t shed a tear because I‟ll see you next fall ~Ken, Jennifer, and Karson Eggert~ Family of Kailee Eggert Poem and Art Credit: Kennedy and her mother Barbara Collins

8 Photo Credit: James Manyara Sharon Mathiu‟s father

Fighting for Freedom Ready to go; ready for war. We can win, yes we can. The fighting begins; LET'S GO! LET'S GO! I'm ready to explode! Bam! At last soaring through the sky Get them! Get them! Wait! Things don't look so great. Falling; down, down; I am falling. Down on the ground I open my eyes Blood, Massacre, Death. It wasn't supposed to be this way.

We fought for the good.....right? A boy, a boy, a baby boy. Not barely 15, with his angelic face. Now gone; blood and dirt smeared all over. The stench of dead rotting bodies all around Thousands of others stranded carelessly everywhere A sea of blue and grey Brothers, friends, people you didn't even know GONE HOW COULD THIS HAVE HAPPENED? ~ Alyssa Romero Tristan Romero‟s sister

Art Credit: Cole Davis Peyton Davis‟s brother

Love Love is when you close your eyes and your love is there, in your thoughts Love is when you see the life beautiful, I, Yesenia Funny, giggly, fun Sibling of Jose, Victor Scared of darkness Citizen of Berwyn, Illinois Cousin of Tanya Diaz. I welcome you to my poem. ~ Yesenia DeLaRiva Cousin of Tanya Diaz

Love is when you see the landscapes full of color, Love is when you dream listening a love song, Love is when you kiss with the heart, Love is when the time passes without notice, Love is when you feel happy without a special reason, Love is when you create a world for two, Love is when you see his smile and you can hear your heartbeat, Love is when you cry if he says goodbye, Love is when you share your life with faith and passion, Love is when you feel the God’s presence and you feel the union between the Earth and Heaven.

~ Veronica Zavala Andrew Zavala’s mother

Photo Credit: Drew Collins Andrew Collins‟s Father

Belly Laughs I live in a doorway between two rooms. I hear the constant tone of the cell phone singing, my doorbell ringing, the cries of a little baby asking for attention from his broken toy, a quiet man on the couch being ignored captured by the hypnotizing screen of the computer and the click, click, click of the mouse. The TV blares through the house, the hhhhhhmmmmmmmmmm of the monotonous voices drag on past the mountains of laundry, dishes, dust, books, ungraded papers… I peek in the other room where glass glistens in the sun, the smell of coffee seeps into my senses. Velvety long-stem roses adorn the dining room table. “Da, Da, Da!” The baby laughs at the whiskers and raspberries blown onto his potbelly. So much love, so much laughter. Home. ~Mrs. Gruca 6th grade teacher

Stop

Photo Credit: Colin McAuliffe Mrs. Gruca‟s friend

Stop You say you understand But you don‟t Stop You say bullying is wrong But you don‟t help me Stop Why won‟t you listen? I ask you for help Stop You‟re watching me As I‟m looking for you Stop Please, Stop ~Jordan Miller 6th grade student

“What my Father Means to Me” by Aaron Saucedo 6th grade student My father means a lot to me. He is a protector, role model, and my awesome dad who cares for me in a time of need. He leads workers at a factory because of how kind and respectful he is to a lot of people that he has met. He means 50% of my family to me. I love him a lot and every day I give him a hug before I go to the bus stop. He is my favorite person in the family because he does things for me . We go to baseball games or amusement parks. He is always there for everyone in need of help. When I grow up, I wish to be just like my dad for all of the good things that he does in his life and what he does for others. 10

FEELINGS Fighting is like fire in one’s eyes Like hatred building inside their hearts Melting the sides of love’s base. When love hits, it missiles blow the hate out of the lungs in which we breathe When hate hits, it’s arrows stab the heart with poison— with rude, miserable and hurtful beliefs— with non-loving, hateful, and unkind teasing. Hate toys with your brain, making you think your worthy of praise Love repairs damaged hearts, messed up brains and cleans filthy lungs

Art Credit: Hailey Collins Andrew Collins‟s sister

Marriage is a commitment to love Divorce is a commitment to hate Dates are deciding which one you want your relationship to be Make the wrong decision and your heart will be tattooed with love or hate for the rest of your life ~Grace Higgins 6th grade student

Dad Found poem from the novel Hush They don‟t know he killed that boy.

Art Credit: Gabby Hoffman 6th grade student

BUT I SAW! I broke the blue wall of silence. He never thought this was his last page. ~Andrew Iskander 8th grade student

Photo Credit: Marty Romero Tristan Romero‟s mother 11

Winning Cheer Competitions Winning cheer completions are always so amazing. I love when I go out and perform and hear screaming from friends and family because I know we did so good. I love our name getting called for first place. I love the big trophies we win and I love seeing my coaches and teammates‟ faces when they call out in first place. Cheer command. ~Peyton Davis 6th grade student

Well, Son I’ll tell you LIFE FOR ME WASN’T AN EASY TEST. It had sticks and stones. BLACK EYES. Broken bones. AND PLACES WITHOUT A LAUNDRY ROOM. Rough. But all this time. I’ve been climbing on. And reached every rung. AND TURNING DOWN ONE OR TWO. SOMETIME I WALK IN THE DARK. WHERES THERES BEEN NO LIGHT SWITCH. SO SON DON’T SECOND GUESS YOURSELF AND DON’T EVER TURN BACK. DON’T YOU FALL OF THIS LADDER. CAUSE YOU WILL FIND IT HARD TO GET BACK UP. FOR ME IM STILL GOIN. IM STILL CLIMBIN. AND LIFE FOR ME WASN’T NO EASY TEST. ~Darius Byrd 6th grade student

12 Photo Credit: Kailee Eggert 6th grade student

If Only Art and Poem Credit: Danielle Hubbard 6th grade student

If only the world was able to see, To only open their eyes to bitter agony. To hold out arms with welcoming sympathy, And soothe the broken and weak. If only there was no hate. Violence takes its toll, crushing innocence in the arms of Fate. Many a broken soul found it too late. For there is nothing, oh how there is only the evil of hate. If only we could open our hearts, To save those who are torn apart. For unconditional love, ever so frail has never been sent out. Hearts remain closed and selfish, oh how hearts are sickened! If only, oh if only… ~Abi Crowne 8th grade student

Photo Credit: Lisa Donofrio DJ Donofrio‟s mother

I am from… I am from video games, from Captain Crunch and Coco Puffs. I am from a two-story high brown building, clean grass around the house. I am from the pine tree, the roses on the ground growing an getting ready every day. I am from playing Domino‟s every Friday and going to church every Saturday— From Joy to Marvin. I‟m from the shouting and the calm. From “Clean up!” and “Quiet down!” I‟m from “Thanks,” “You‟re friendly,” and “You‟re awesome.”

I‟m from America and the Philippines, sugar and spice. From the yelling of my brother, the cleaning of my mother. I‟m from a wonderland in a warm household. From hot to cold, to friendly and flighty, to mom and dad, to brother and me. ~Josh Ambrosio 6th grade student

A Spring Breeze Life Grows and spreads through the earth Branches stretch into emerald leaves Freedom Flutters underneath our wings Robins slice through the blue Vitality Rushes under our toes Breezes whip our hair Warmth Melts a winter inside us The sun on our faces again Change Makes way for new life Brown folds into green Hope Shows winter does not last forever It sheds like leaves in the fall

Photo Credit: Jessica DiGrazia 6th grade student

The Computer Daze In the office at the hard drive of the house Where light shines through windows covered in wires I‟m writing a story I pause in the middle hearing someone walk by From the closed door, a matter of footsteps,

~Maggie Hackett Mrs. Hackett‟s daughter

Sound like a collage of books falling to the ground Young as I am, the items of my life are great memories, Some with good clicks I wish myself good luck But now it is me who freezes As if to reject my thoughts, It‟s easy A stillness which greatens The whole room starts clicking, Then I‟m at it again ~John F. Ruiter 6th grade student 14

Art Credit: Jordan C. Jankovsky-Boatman 6th grade student

Photo Credit: Dawn Shanley Nicole Shanley‟s mother

Poems Flying Free

Art Credit: Amy Baumgartner 6th grade student

Inside a free-verse, different words have different meanings in context inside a free-verse you don't need it to rhyme you don't need it in certain stanzas you don't need it to be any certain way 'cause it's a free-verse so pour out you heart and soul onto paper for people to read or private, in a diary. Free-verse fly away. -Amy K. Baumgartner 6th grade student

Words Are Power The most selfish one letter word... “I” ...refrain from it The most satisfying two-letter word... “US” ... embrace it The most lonely three-letter word... “ONE” ... add to it The most destructive four-letter word... “HATE” ... eliminate it The most valuable five-letter word... “FAITH” ... have it The most attentive six-letter word... “LISTEN” ... be available to it The hardest working seven-letter word... “SUCCEED” ... strive for it The most dedicated eight-letter word... “LOYALITY” ... stand by it The most powerful nine-letter word... “PERSEVERE” ... move to it The most essential ten-letter word... “COMPASSION” ... share it ~Mrs. Webb 6th grade teacher

Life Here’s what I have to tell you, Daughter:

BIRD

Life hasn’t been an easy layup for me.

A bird is an ultra feather It is a beautiful melody in the air

There’s been guys in my way—

A bird can be colorful or dull

refs blowing the whistles, and people are trying to steal the ball.

But it can never be one with another

But the whole time, I keep dribbling—

An egg can hatch, it can also grow But soon shall find out

switching sides—

That when he‟s fully grown and his mother has left him

faking people out. The hoops get farther and father.

Soon shall he forget the past that‟s left him

But don’t you go and pass the ball or give it to the other team.

Worms shall he find digging alone

If it gets harder and harder,

All through America you can hear him mooooaaaaan

it means you are that much closer.

All through the darkness flying solo

I’m still dribbling.

For the girls have found that he‟s lost his mojo.

Life hasn’t been an easy layup for me.

~Grace Higgins 6th grade student

~Ashley Smoldt 6th grade student

Morning Found poem from novel Hush

Morning Time

Bowl is slammed Against The Floor Dad picks up a piece Jams it into his wrist: Ready to die? 16 “

Photo Credit: Erica Basile Gianni Basile‟s mother

~Vicky Vidziunas 8th grade student

“Belonging” by Mr. Hundal JFK Vice Principal Take a fish out of the water and what will you see? You will probably see that fish struggle to survive. That is my story. I was 12 years old when my parents decided that we were all going to move. Most kids move from one town to another, but it was not so easy for me. I was moving from one country to another, from India to United States of America. It was hard enough being 12 years old and trying to figure out my place in the world, but now I had to do it in a new country, with new people, trying to learn a new language. I remember my first days at school in Lombard, Illinois and I remember thinking: what am I doing here? I would go home every day and pray that my parents would come to their senses and decide that we were going to move back home (India). I was not so lucky because my parents had decided that they were going to make Lombard, Illinois home. Every day I was lost at school. I had no friends—forget friends—I could not even talk to anyone because they did not understand my language (Punjabi) and I could not understand English. I would look at the faces of the kids that went to school with me and think about what my friends were doing in India, or if I would ever see my friends again. There were times where I thought I would never have any friends. I hated Lombard, Illinois in the United States of America. Like with everything, time helps heal wounds. As time went on, I began to learn the English language. I even started to understand what I was watching on T.V. Slowly but surely I also began to make friends. Instead of eating lunch all by myself and walking to all my classes by myself, I started to gain more confidence and I started to sit with other people at lunch. I would listen to their conversations and try to pick up the way they talked and how they acted with each other. As time went on, other kids began to notice me. They realized that I was different from them because I spoke a different language. They would ask me to speak my language and would ask me to translate certain English sayings in Punjabi. I would do this at lunch every day and I was having fun with my new friends. I began to realize that being different was fine with me. Over time, I made some really good friends who are still my friends today. As I look back today, now an Assistant Principal at JFK Middle School in Plainfield, Illinois, I realize that fitting in and belonging was very difficult for me when I moved to the USA. However I am glad I had a chance to go through that experience because it made me a more caring, well-rounded, and self confident person. From my experience, I realize that we all want to belong wherever we are: school, job, a new city, or even a new country. I am glad to say that today I belong at John F. Kennedy Middle School in Plainfield, Illinois.

“Monster” by David Riojas 6th grade student The old man walked to the desk and pulled out a key. He handed it to his nephew with a scowl. “You don’t know what you’re doing,” he muttered. The nephew took the key and walked to the basement. Three gold locks shut the door. He put the key in and twisted the locks. He could hear the heavy gears at work unlocking the door. He opened the door and a cold wind hit him in the face. He slowly crept down the stairs. He could hear the stairs moaning in pain as he stepped on them. All of the sudden the lights started to flicker on and off. The door shut behind him and his uncle locked the door. The basement went black. “It’s not funny. Get me out!” the boy shouted. He looked down and saw a trail of blood going down the stairs. Then he made the worst mistake of his life; he followed the trail. The basement got colder and all of the sudden a big, green figure appeared in front of him. The nephew was paralyzed with fear. Its face looked like nothing he had ever seen before. The monster took a heavy swing and knocked him down. The boy was out cold. Blood trickled down his head and the monster took him away.

Art Credit: Austin Placek 6th grade student

Ocean Son, a good life doesn’t come easy. Life is like an ocean— sometimes it’s calm, sometimes there are storms, and sometimes you lose your way on the map. Art Credit: Nicole Shanley 6th grade student

Your compass is like your education— it guides you through life. Your ship is like your parents— it holds you until you find new land. If you’re lost, remember your compass and your ship. When you find new land you must leave your ship— but not your compass. One day your ship will sink— but you will never stop exploring your new land. 18 Photo Credit: Susan Karas Stephanie Karas‟ mother

~Gowtham Yerneni 6th grade student

Devil Storm Rain taps on a window like tiny crystals In a place where the sun does not shine Thunder cracks gunfire of a million pistols The sky is as red as the finest wine Angry black clouds swirl around the stars Below- puddles form underneath my feet Fog illuminates with light from cigars The hazy shadows of nighttime secrete The moon wears a veil that shifts with the smoke Naked trees creek in the brutal wind The air is thick and it threatens to choke The malicious devil of a storm grinned Lightening flashes blind my sleepy eyes Until all of it seems to demise ~Maggie Hackett Mrs. Hackett’s daughter

“My Ragdoll Ledge” by Jordan Miller 6th grade student

Day in and day out I sit here watching kids pass me by. I envy the popular toys, the Barbie‟s who are hugged and given new clothes every day. Sometimes the kids, they look at me but never have I been touched. Sitting here, I imagine a girl braiding my hair and giving me a new dress but I can only imagine. The trophies call me a mess, the starfish says I‟m too ordinary, but all the kids just look.

Sometimes I‟ll fall off of my ledge hoping someone will notice and hold me a little before they put me back up. Though the teacher sees she leaves me lying there. When I feel brave I‟ll land on a child‟s desk only to be put back later. I hate it here. I collect dust and that‟s it. I have no other reason to live. So for now I‟ll live day in and day out watching the kids pass me by. 19

Photo Credit: Marty Romero Tristan Romero‟s mother

Best Friends You are my friend Mirroring my laugh Fall by side A rainbow of love Shielding my pain Holding my hand And protecting my heart I thank you my friend By my side that you keep Sweet love that you whisper You're all that I need and more ~ Alyssa Romero Tristan Romero‟s sister

Dream: A Reverse Poem

“Although it seems as if the world is trying to cut you down, Keep trying anyhow, you might just make it!”

Dreaming big is hard. I don’t think that tomorrow I will be sitting in an office working. I know that we will all not be successful. Think about the future. I do not believe that Looking ahead will help you I’ll become what I want to be. is a lie. It is true, Believing in yourself is the key. life’s hard. Having fun— I say not get you anywhere but work hard. Work hard We will all not be successful— I say. Not get you anywhere but Life’s hard— having fun will. it is true. Believing in yourself is the key I’ll become what I want to be. is a lie. I do not believe that Looking ahead will help you we will all not be successful. think about the future. I know that tomorrow I will be sitting in an office working. I don’t think that dreaming big is hard!! Photo Credit: Erica Basile Gianni Basile‟s mother

Photo and Quote Credit: Cassie Weyenberg Mrs. Weyenberg‟s daughter

Earthquakes

Mother to Daughter Well daughter I‟ll tell you That life isn‟t always going to be so easy if you don‟t treat people nice. So I‟m reminding you that you should always treat people with respect. If people are mean to you don‟t let them bring you down. Always be a good person. If you treat people with disrespect Then they will just treat you the same what and you don‟t want that. Don‟t ever say things to people that will get you in trouble or they will say things about you that you that makes you very unhappy. So just remember all these things I‟m telling you or life will be rough for you. -Alyssa Calvillo 6th grade student

Love Love is not always perfect. There are so many mistakes but I forgive those people. Some people believe in love

Shake! Shake! Shake! The ground starts to move It‟s not a pretty sight Everyone is running for their lives The ground starts to move Trying not to panic Everyone is running for their lives “Stay calm,” is what they say Trying not to panic Parents holding their children close “Stay calm,” is what they say Not to scare their kids Parents holding their children close Hiding from the horror Not to scare their kids The scene is still a disaster Hiding from the horror The ground is calm, the people aren‟t The scene is still a disaster The tragedy begins ~Camila Acosta 6th grade student

but I don‟t. He took my heart.

I live in a doorway Between two rooms I hear, The roar of laughter through the hallway I see my friends, I see my foes I feel smushed with all of the people shoving through I taste the bubble gum I‟m smacking on It smells like school supplies

Love is just Fake Fantasy

I peek into the other room In the other room, kids screaming Food burning in the microwave Sisters fighting Phone ringing, Doorbell singing Dogs barking I feel tired and angry all the time I see my family

but I forgive. I can tell you that love is not always here but I will still forgive you.

~Barbara Marquez 6th grade student

~Corrie Marshall 6th grade student 21

100 Degrees Family My mom, dad, sisters, brother all there Friends so dear there too They make my room full of love Up to 100 degrees I love it I have a family that I love I love them and they love me We all are a happy family We are eternal in heaven and on earth Oh how they are so dear to me I got pictures of all of them in my heart Photo Credit: I live in a doorway Cassie Weyenberg Between two rooms. Mrs. Weyenbergâ&#x20AC;&#x;s daughter I hear the constant sounds of Pencils tapping, note books flipping And the rumbles on the floor as students run by.

I feel the rubber grip of a pen The hard desk as I tap it with my fingers I feel the cold metal as I turn the door knob The smooth cafeteria table as I set my food down I smell the stinky odor of sweaty kids coming from P.E. The smell of pizza as I walk past the lunch room I smell pencil shavings as they land on my nose The exhaust from the bus as it takes me home I peek in the other room and see A different world I see a dog running around the yard The TV; constantly changing channels Doors opening and closing every 2 minutes I hear the dog barking As strangers walk by The meat sizzling on the grill I hear the constant talking I smell the rice cooking on the stove Fresh Windex smells as the windows are being cleaned The dog as she is being washed The nice Lysol spray ~Adrian Manjarrez 6th grade student

~Katie Smith 6th grade student

Art Credit: Karson Eggert Kailee Eggertâ&#x20AC;&#x;s brother

New Life Inspired by the novel Hush

Art Credit: Areona Hinkle 6th grade student

Photo Credit: Carol DiGrazia Jessica DiGrazia‟s mother

Mama‟s religion; We are the world but not of the world. My soul isn‟t here. Too dangerous to make friends. Settled. San Francisco is a stupid place. Coldest winter. Mark Twain said that she shrugged. ~Ruben Gamino 8th grade student

Girl with Crow Oh Beauty rare you stand alone Amongst the crows you glow And sitteth on the meadow green Upon the apropos. For overhead the bird did caw And make its presence known That there he found a love in you To which you did atone. He flapped his wings with such distress His cawing filled the air Then suddenly without much thought He flew down with despair. She saw his plight, which made her sad And so she softly sighed That he forgave her ignorance And wed her for his bride. ~ Mrs. Midlock JFK Teaching Assistant

23 Art Credit: Mrs. Midlock JFK Teaching Assistant “Forest Sprite”

“The Cat‟s in the Cradle: Where Did the Time Go?” by Tim Jordan Harris Jordan‟s Father

A Facebook posting by a friend earlier this week brought forth a somewhat nostalgic reaction. The posting was a photo of her child and the simple, yet powerful, words "I think I can… I think I can" The line is the often repeated refrain from Watty Piper's classic children‟s tale "The Little Engine that Could" This was one of the first books I purchased for my son. It was a gift to him on his first Christmas, and has the distinct honor of being one of the few books into which I have inscribed anything onto the flyleaf. The story is one that I remember from my childhood, and is a tale of self confidence, moral strength, honor and duty, and perseverance. The nostalgic reaction was less about the nature of the tale, however, than it was a reminiscence on the value of reading to a child. Reading to a child, whether infant or toddler, or early school aged, is truly a tonic for one‟s soul. It allows a parent to perpetuate the rapidly fleeting role of being everything in their child‟s life. When reading, a parent is able to immerse themselves into the world created by the author, and to become all things for their child. The reader‟s voice inflections create ripples of laughter, and sudden gasps of surprise. Slowly building the tension of the tale, using rhythm and pacing in the presentation of the words becomes a well choreographed joining of the spoken and written word. The outside world fades away, and reader and audience are slowly and inexorably drawn into the tale, much like Funke intended with her Inkheart series. „Tis a sad day, indeed, when as a parent, you no longer hear "Would you read to me, Daddy?" Did the cat jump into the cradle? Did the books, and the time together, become less important than schoolwork, or dental hygiene, or other interests? At the time, those few minutes before bedtime or after school, or just sitting around the living room didn‟t seem that powerful; in the moment. Looking back now, with longing, I see now how much those times really did mean. To all of us.

Death for Lunch Inspired by The Jungle

He ate death for lunch A bug was inside the pig Softly she still cries ~Carolyn Froelich 8th grade student

24 Art Credit: Kim Collins Andrew Collins‟s mother

Photo Credit: Marc Pusateri Father of Aly Pusateri Design Credit: Aly Pusateri 6th grade student

Door The doorway An anxious passage There are cars, food, animals and jobs But once you pass you canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t come back. When you pass it you become an adult Worried with jobs, money, and a house. To pass the door is a serious task But you always have to remember The side you came from Just live the side youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re in now ~Daniel Arroyo 6th grade student

Art Credit: Bryan Bennis 8th grade student

My Mind

Art Credit: Areona Hinkle 6th grade student

The Dancers of the Sky White pristine miniature sculptures fall outside Ugh, I hate snow

My mind is like a long hallway, With many, many doors. With doors to hold my secrets, Ones with doctors, when my heart is sore. There’s a door with a Keep Out sign, That I should never go inside. And if an accident occurs, There’s a room where I can hide. There are pictures where I keep my thoughts, My ideas and my plans. There’s a window letting sunshine in, Making me as happy as I absolutely can. There’s a big, white couch, where I can sit, And cry, and cry, and cry. There’s a bedroom where I just lay down, And watch the day go by. Outside the window it gets dark, Whenever I feel sad. And when it starts to storm outside, You know that I feel mad. One more thing inside my mind, Is a mirror on every wall. They let my mind drift far away, To places big and small. Ms. Becker 6th grade teacher (Written when she was in 6th grade)

and yet I can‟t help but stop to admire as they fall down. They fall from the heavens each one gowned in white each one dancing their own unique dance. They swirl and twirl wondering the winterous world without a care. I reach to touch one so I can dance with it through the night. It touches my outstretched hand and disappears My hand freezes—cold coursing through my fingertips. It angers me that my captured danger would harm me so. Now I remember why I hate snow. ~Isaiah Hall 7th grade student

Art Credit: Dawn Shanley Nicole Shanley‟s mother 26

Toys Their big and small My favorites are Teck Decks Their small skateboards When I first open them They smell like brown boxes I can feel the grip on top And the smooth picture on the bottom

Art Credit: Katie Hayes 6th grade student

I taste the water when I splash it on the sink I see the great tricks I do with my fingers I hear the big stomp when I slam it on the ground ~Daniel Arroyo 6th grade student

Art Credit: Agnes Karkoszka 6th grade student

Grandpa‟s Promise Now, you listen to me, sweetheart: We‟re gonna build that birdhouse. We‟ll build the best one in town, Paint it all kinds of colors And I‟ll tell ya what: We can go to the city, Just me n‟ you We‟ll dress up, See the lights, Take a trip to the moon And we can build that birdhouse, Just me n‟ you, The best in town Count on it, sweetheart. I‟d never let ya down. ~Caitlin Arquines 6th grade student 27 Photo Credit: Mrs. Midlock JFK Teaching Assistant

Blank Expressions I come from a long line of hard workers— people who use their hands minds feet and eyes to decipher the world. I come from quiet thinkers who are always watching others and judging and trying to find out where they fit in among others.

Art Credit: Jake Knoebel 6th grade student

I come from a long line of people who bury their feelings, who hide their smiles with pursed lips, never revealing their true thoughts.

Art Credit: Brianna Martinez 8th grade student

-Mrs. Gruca 6th grade teacher

Into the Doors Another one taken— another one gone into the doors. The sly smile on his face. His arms open like a gate into the doors. A name that never existed— a body never lived in, going into the doors. Forever gone. -Gretchen Freebern 6th grade student

Photo Credits: Robert and Donna Smoldt Ashley Smoldt‟s parents

“The Undertaker” by Niles Pratt 7 grade student th

The Undertaker has struck fear into the souls of the World Wrestling Entertainment. In this paper learn about what WWE means, what happens in the WWE, and the worthy opponents (aka souls) for the deadman. WWE stand for World Wrestling Entertainment that grew from WCW to WWF to WWE. The time line for the WWE is the most paid and highest paid sport according to McMahon (WWE chairman). But without the Undertaker this wouldn’t be a franchise just be a league where people beat the snot out each other. When the Undertaker made his debut on November 22, 1991 as the surprise member on Ted Dibeise survivor series team. The Undertaker eliminated 3 people from Ric Flair’s survivor series team until he was counted out (McMahon). Some of Undertakers worthy opponents have made his career glorious going from the heart break kid to his brotherly rifts between Kane. But the most glorious occasion is his undefeated wrestlemaina streak from casket matches to hell in a cell matches .Undertaker will prosper from the weirdest things like being in a match and getting suffocated with a towel filled with some gas (www.wreslinggods.com). On February 1992, The Undertaker's ally Jake "The Snake" Roberts tried to attack Randy Savage's manager/wife Miss Elizabeth with a steel chair when The Undertaker stopped him, becoming a fan favorite for the first time. Then, the Undertaker defeated Roberts at WrestleMania VII. He then feuded with wrestlers managed by Harvey Wippleman throughout 1992 and 1993, including Kamala, whom he faced and defeated in the first televised coffin match in WWF history at Survivor Series, and Giant Gonzales, whom he defeated by disqualification at WrestleMania IX .By pin fall at Summer Slam in a "Rest in Peace" match (Rahim). On January 1994, he challenged WWF Champion Yokozuna to a casket match at the Royal Rumble. At the Royal Rumble, Yokozuna sealed The Undertaker in the casket with the assistance of several other villainous wrestlers, winning the match. The Undertaker's "spirit" appeared from inside the casket on the video screen, warning that he would return (Rahim) . At the Elimination Chamber pay-per-view, a pyrotechnics malfunction momentarily engulfed The Undertaker in flames during his ring entrance. Undertaker was able to continue with his scheduled match, with a burn on his chest that "looked like a bad sunburn" according to a WWE spokesman. He lost the World Heavyweight Championship to Chris Jericho after interference from Shawn Michaels (Rahim). That following night, on Raw, Michaels claimed that he cost The Undertaker his championship because he wanted to face The Undertaker at WrestleMania XXVI, but The Undertaker had previously turned down his offer of a match (Rahim). The Undertaker agreed to the match on the condition that Michaels' career was on the line (Rahim). The match was later made into a no disqualification, no countout match as well. At WrestleMania, The Undertaker defeated Michaels in a "Streak vs. Career" match at WrestleMania XXVI, to extend his WrestleMania winning streak to 18–0 and force Michaels to retire. After the match, the Undertaker shook Michaels' hand as a sign of respect (Rahim). During a speech, he returned to SmackDown on May 28, defeating Rey Mysterio. During the match, however, The Undertaker suffered a concussion, broken orbital bone and broken nose. On the June 4, 2010 taping of SmackDown, it was reported that The Undertaker was found to be "in a vegetative state" (kayfabe) over Memorial Day Weekend, thus unable to compete in the Fatal 4-Way. Later in the show, a battle royal featuring the entire SmackDown roster took place to determine a replacement for the Undertaker, which was won by Rey Mysterio. At WWE Fatal 4-Way Kane revealed that the group allegedly responsible for Undertaker's vegetative state is the Straight Edge Society

(Rahim).

Now you have seen what WWE means, what happens in the WWE, and the worthy opponents (aka souls) for the deadman. As they say in the WWE “come get some if you want it.” Thanks for reading this paper. One more thing if you see smoke and hear a gong get the heck out there because the undertaker is there and everywhere.

Chi - town

Art Credit: Brett Dutton 8th grade student

I live in a doorway between two rooms. I hear laughing and crying— People joking around. I see people eating dinner with their families—having a good time. I peek in the other room. I hear people yelling and screaming— Depression. I see people sitting and pacing across the floor— back and forth… back and forth… ~Nicole Franger 6th grade student Photo Credit: Jennifer Meas Darvin Meas‟ mother

Art Credit: Colton Edgeworth Keri Edgeworth‟s brother

Chicago Chi-town for short Has lots of great features Also The Windy City But for some places in Chicago I give lots of pity When I think about this city I think about the good things But what I don‟t think about Is the people on the streets I think of the great sports teams But not about bad things I think about the stadiums But not about Chicago‟s education It‟s like Chicago is hiding Under all the good things That‟s why we made all the these features So nobody see‟s the real Windy-city And what it‟s like Gangs going around Houses being robbed Teenagers not found People losing jobs People getting hurt Mentally and physically Faces in the dirt Because of all our bullies Why are we even Losing people we love Isn‟t this the Chi-town We should be above Every one that hates this place Don‟t let them get all in your face Keep our city clean around Enough that we can eat off the ground Let Chicago rise above All those other places that we love I‟m not trying to compare I‟m just talking about this community People live on the streets If their city was good It would never be called what it is today But hey This is Chicago That‟s too big of a change And plus These are the streets, without them It just wouldn‟t be the same. - Brad Jimenez 6th grade student

The Path There was a door, a huge door It was colorful, painted well There were many designs carved on the door The path leading to the door was made by marbles There were beautiful flowers and plants along the path I was invited to go to the door When I opened the door I found many horrible things YES—A smooth road leads to bad endings… ~ Jay Lakshmanan Ramya Lakshmanan‟s mother

Art Credit: Zach Dixon 8th grade student

Mystery of Stars

The stars tell us stories of things long ago— like mysteries unsolved of proof never found. Art Credit: Shelby Voorhees 6th grade student

We’ll never know why they’re there. Did they just appear? Like a Fire in the dark? Or are they there to guide us

Hush Haiku

on the great adventure of life?

Have to leave her friends Living in a life of lies

~Gretchen Freebern 6th grade student

Dreams in a shadow ~ Vicky Vidziunas 8th grade student

Angels I walk this world alone; try to stay on my feet. Sometimes crawl, fall, but I stand because I‟m afraid to sleep. And I open my eyes to a new day, with all new problems and all new pain. All these faces are filled with so much anger, losing our dignity and hope from fear of danger. After all the wars, after settling our scores, at the break of dawn, we will be deaf to the answers. We need it. We need more than this. I go through life searching for angels. So many nations with so many people who starve for need and the prosper of seed. So many homeless scrounging for dirty needles. On the rise; teen suicide. When will we realize we have been desensitized by the lies of the world? We‟ve been oppressed and impressed by the greedy. Whose hands squeeze the life out of the needy. When will we learn that wars, threats, and regrets are the cause and effect of living in fear. With the queer idea standing to survive I feel judged by societies evil discriminating tribe. We all want the American Dream; but what happens when that‟s only working in a factory for lower than low pay. Busting backs and sweating hunger for power. Making no more than 7 dollars an hour. It‟s all worth it. It‟s for the face of a mother who takes her first fist blow. And it‟s for the fingers of a father who works them daily to the bone. It‟s for the soldiers who take a bullet on the line. And it‟s for the expecting teen parents for the first time. You see I represent a nation. I believe I can move mountains, I believe I can break wind, and crack thunder. I believe I am change. I believe I am a generation; who just wants to turn back a nation. To leave hate and let love be our light and salvation. We need more than this looking for angels Love‟s staring back at me in the mildest of painful faces, Angles show up in the strangest places. ~Deniece Gutierrez Former JFK student „09 Sister of Matt Gutierrez

Art Credit: Jordan Miller 6th grade student

I Am... I am from rolled up sleeves And culture clash From smoky rooms with Watery eyes Licenseless drivers Headed in the wrong direction. I am from tense instruction To taste success. I am from “You‟re a female, your place is at home.”

Photo Credit: Ellen Savaglio Allyssa Savaglio‟s mother

I am from eyes constantly watching me and “Do it right.” I am from persistent-knowledge-learning Just to prove them wrong. I am here only to set an example. I am from big picture words

Art Credit: Shelby Voorhees 6th grade student

I am from work at the Expense of everything else. I am from the correct way is the only way. I am from the first to break the mold; The first to change the way things were once before. I am their experiment, these eyes tuned still As they eagerly wait for me to succeed. Three hearts desperately hoping to change the curve of the road. ~Mrs. Drozd 8th grade teacher 33

Art Credit: Cole Kotopka 8th grade student

Dreams of a Soccer Player She shoots, she scores, they win The dream comes true. Years of practice and hard work— Dreams really do come true.

Baseball Memories

We win, we win, the game is ours. I can’t believe it’s true—We won! I scored the last, winning goal!!! It’s the best day ever!!!!!! I can’t believe it’s true that we won.

When I was little, I loved baseball. Playing tee ball was my first step. I was learning very quickly. I remember my first time playing without my coach pitching: I did not know what would happen next. Swinging the bat but always missing. Over the years, I kept getting better. Playing in the fall and spring. I would strike out in disappointment. I would hit the ball and sprint to the base. I would catch a ball then throw it to third base. Sometimes, running to catch a ball, then missing it and losing the game for my team. I learned from my mistakes and I got better and better. ~Cristian Malave 6th grade student

Wonderful day it is today— sunny and a bright day. I rule at soccer—yes, I do— My dream is real. Sadly, the night is over. And so is the wonderful dream. The dream through will come again So now the best day is over! ~Keri Edgeworth 6th grade student

Art Credit: Nik0 Harres 6th grade student

Art Credit: Sara Tuzci 7th grade student

Art Credit: Nik0 Harres 6th grade student Art Credit: Deserie Hudson 8th grade student

“A Faithful Copy of the Union Flag” by Mrs. Erman 6th grade teacher A lady named Palmyra Mitchell of Union Mills, Missouri held feelings for the Confederacy. She and her husband, a miller, John W. Mitchell, from Kentucky, owned a farm. One day a group of union soldiers rode through their area and demanded to see a Union flag. Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell explained that they had none. The soldier said they would be back soon and if no flag was flying, their house would be burned. Palmyra searched through the scrap and found pieces of red, white and blue fabric, enough to make a small flag. She appliquéd the thirteen stars on the blue field. She also made the blue stars visible from the reverse side. Palmyra attached two loops to the bottom of the flag, so it could be flown upside down. This was a small rebellion on her part. Later, the Union Army returned and saw the flag displayed so the Mitchell‟s home was spared. The soldiers did not notice that the flag was being flown upside down.

Music

Photo Credit: Ms. Murphy 7th grade teacher

La Di Daaa Ear phones Music La Di Daaa When I‟m sad I listen to music When I‟m bored, I sing. I love music. La Di Daaa It‟s the key to my life. When I listen, it opens my soul— it gives me the power to relax— it makes my mind as plain as a blank piece of paper. It gets me in a mode— the mode of relaxation. Relaxation is my happy place. The key of life. Relaxation. Music. ~ Christopher Biggs 6th grade student

Basketball: A Villanelle Poem

“The s of co park is n mpas ot a r e mark s et in ion but a newal jeerin sneer bull the r g, and a d ing and eal so i lutio verting fr n.” om ~Eile en Sm all Caitl in grand Arquine s‟ moth er

Basketball is my sport This is my game Nobody can put me down If you don’t think so we can take it up in court I have no shame Basketball is my sport I will keep making shots till you frown All I have is aim Nobody can put me down While you make a fort I will get all the fame Basketball is my game I will take you to town I am not the one to blame Nobody can put me down There is no way you can retort I won’t look like a clown Basketball is my game Nobody can put me down ~Ashley Smoldt 6th grade student

Quilt Credit: Mrs. Erman 6th grade teacher

Grandpa

Grandma

He never held me He never meet me He will never be there I love him no matter what I know he looks over me I will never forget that he is my Grandpa

She has always been here with me since day one of my life I will always love her She will always be in my heart There is no chance I will forget her I have the best Grandma in the world She is incredible but no matter what She will always be my Grandma no matter what ~Tanya Diaz 6th grade student

-Tanya Diaz 6th grade student

“The successful one is the one who predominantly changes attitude—the cynicism among those able to give, and the fatalism among those needing to receive.” ~Eileen Small Caitlin Arquines’ grandmother

36 Photo Credit: Kailee Eggert 6th grade student

Hard work and Greediness I come from a long line of greedy, and selfish people. On the other half I have my hard workers, and farmers. My parents are happy while the greedy, are trying to pull them into a trap. Art Credit: Morgan Nicoski 6th grade student

My grandfathers and grandmothers pictures hang on the wall as a memory of all their hard work.

If you were to die tomorrow I would never be able to smile as the seconds flash by and the lights turn off and I shut my eyes and whisper in my brain those tears that seek out the one I have only loved in this short life stop; shudder silent scream white darkness you will never die as long as you are alive in me.

I hope that someday there will be more hard workers, than greedy and selfish people in my long line. ~Gowtham Yerneni 6th grade student

~Mr. Greene 6th grade teacher

Art Credit: Christopher Kovac 7th grade student

37 Art Credit: Samantha Collins Andrew Collinsâ&#x20AC;&#x;s sister

Art Credit: Christopher Biggs 6th grade student

“Life After War”

Art Credit: Peter Karkovzka Agnes Karkovza‟s brother

by Brian Clinkenburg 7th grade student

When I came home from Korea in 1952 I took up construction again and built mainly houses and schools, including what is now Plainfield Central High School, which opened in 1960. My brother Tom was sent to Detroit in 1967 as part of a riot control assignment, where he received was wounded again. He was also sent to Vietnam from 1968 to 1970, where he got the Silver Star. He was also sent to Grenada, an island in the Caribbean Sea, in 1983. There, he got wounded again and was arrested by the Army for leaving his post back in the US without permission. His sentence for desertion was an automatic discharge and removal of any medals that would have been awarded to him in 1983 or after. Also, any medals concerning the Grenada campaign wouldn‟t be awarded to him until further notice from the President himself. He had three sons, one of which joined the Army and was sent to Iraq in 2008. He was killed in action three months after deploying. My brother Ed would become a historian, specializing mainly in the American Revolution. My sons, Buddy and Chuck, both joined the military: Buddy joined the Marines and Chuck joined the Army. Chuck went as part of the 23rd Artillery Group. Buddy went as a medic in the 3rd Marine Division. Chuck was doing recon in 1966 when he was shot by a sniper. Buddy was wounded when he pushed a grenade into the mud and stepped on it. He was thrown in the air and broke his leg. He also lost a couple toes. He collapsed while trying to walk back to his camp. He was sent home after that. I volunteered to go to Vietnam, but they said I was too old. I counted and I had been in combat for 393 days total. Tom was in combat for 1,062 total days during his service, which lasted from 1941 until 1983; Ed was in combat 730 days total. Eventually, I was the only Keegan left; Tom died in his sleep in 2004, as did Ed in 2006. When Tom heard a really good war buddy of his died in 1995, he invited me accompany him on a reunion tour through Europe. I did, and it was one of the best choices I ever made. I went to all the places he fought, which included North Africa, Italy, France, and Germany. He showed the most emotion at the swamp where his squad commander, named Magnuson, was killed on D-Day. He had made some kind of agreement with the German soldier who had killed Magnuson. I could tell because when we got there, there was a guy sitting in a wheelchair on the road near the swamp. Tom and the guy shook hands and talked about their different war experiences. Hanz eventually explained that he held no hard feelings, and Tom paused, and eventually said the same thing. They went to an old church in Normandy, France and talked for hours. Apparently, Hanz was also wounded at the Battle of Paris. He was sent home after that. Tom and Hanz remained friends for the rest of Tom‟s „Memory Lane‟ tour and for the rest of Hanz‟s life, which lasted until 1999. I did a memory tour in 2002, going to Tarawa, Saipan and Iwo Jima, all the Pacific islands I fought at during WWII. I am proud of my military service, and I know that the Second World War was necessary, at least in America‟s case. I believe that if the war didn‟t go exactly as it did, this book might be written in Japanese or German or maybe even Italian. In the words of fellow WWII vet Sam Hynes, who was featured on Ken Burns‟ documentary The War, “I don‟t think there is such a thing as a „good‟ war; there are sometimes necessary wars and one might say „just‟ wars. I never questioned the necessity of that war and I still do not question it; it was something that had to be done...” 38

Art Credit: Clark Smith Katie Smith‟s brother

Tennis

Art Credit: Emma Smith Katie Smith‟s sister

Pop! Pop! (Silence) Cheer! Just another day at the court in the blazing sun. “20 serving 10” Pop! “This is (Pop!) the last hit!” Cheer! “The winner (BEEP! BEEP!) is (thud) Sharon Mathiu!” BEEP! BEEP! (Thud) BEEP! BEEP! “Wake up, Sleepyhead. You‟re going to be late for tennis practice.”

A Light in the Dark A child left alone

~Sharon Mathiu 6th grade student

is not a child at all but a small candle in a world of darkness— all alone and unloved. Any moment on it’s own— it will go out.

-Gretchen Freebern 6th grade student

Art Credit: Elizabeth Smith Katie Smith‟s sister

Slow and Distracted I am laid back, slow. Last minute, enjoying what I do. Then I write. I word it right, using my creativity, and then, I get distracted. I remember my trips, seeing something waving at me, with the warmth of the sun, relaxed again. Then comes the tide, and I know it‟s late. I think of my day, what I did wrong and right, what I have to do, and I remember. Time to write. ~Kailee Eggert 6th grade student 39

Art Credit: Angela Smallwood 6th grade student

The Am

A Parent’s Love

Every m

orning

lag

they sin

g a s on g dge of A llegianc My fifty e.” stars re present the fifty states o f Americ a. My thir teen red and wh ite strip Repres es ent the 13 origin al colon I get sa ies in A d when merica. the stud ents and tea cher lea ve at th e end o They ar f the da e my fr y. iends. I am ha ppy to s ee them back th I don‟t e next d feel lon ay. ely whe n they a ~Jerem r e w ith me. iah Uju 6th gra de stud ent to me—

I look into the eyes of my children, And my heart is full and complete. I don‟t know their future, But I know their travels will be a feat. Their needs are forever present, Sometimes too much to bear. But then they turn and gaze my way, And my heart they do ensnare. What they‟ll become, who they‟ll emulate, Is unknown at this stage. But with love and grace, Especially during life‟s hectic pace, I look forward to the turning page! While fears of loss often plague my mind, I remind myself, That these are good times. The memories we are building, Are precious like gold, A gift for the future, A story to be told. These days are fleeting, I wonder where the times goes? So I savor the moments, And record them in prose. The smiles, the tears, The illnesses a plenty! The successes, the failures, Multiplied by twenty! The hugs, the kisses, The attitude of disdain, No matter my child‟s disposition, My love will never wane. Whether they are young or old. Their life‟s journey, Will continue to be told. It will be played out, Through their actions and words, And it‟s my job to give them wings, So they can soar like birds. ~Colleen Yaeger Ryan Yaeger‟s mother

erican F

“The Ple

-A Dismal DanceI see the world so dismally with the pain that has been brought to me. How shall I forget that dying stance? You looking at me with a glance? How awful you must feel for showing you know how to kill. A lover's dream, a lost mans cause. To be with you despite the loss. The cloak that covers me in pain through the shadows it is slain. A bond has broke; I am set free. From this monster that is thee. -Garrett Bernhagen Former JFK student „09 40

Art Credit: Ramya Lakshmanan 6th grade student

I Am Muslim … I am a Muslim, a religious person from the start. I have learned many things from a young age. I keep my beliefs in my mind and my heart. Following the rules passed down to my parents, One day to teach my own children.

Treat people the way you want to be treated. These words bounce around my head. I stare at the TV screen, As the anger inside me flares My heart broken, my pride hurt. My voice flies into the sky as I protest, My words never to be heard . My pride, my life. The one thing I will never forget.

I know the things said about my religion, But I believe in my own knowledge. I pray that one day there is peace in this place we call Earth. That some day people let us speak the words no one says. The words that will make all the difference. I wish to tell these words to everyone. Men, Women and all the children, For those children are going to make the new generation . It is best to start with peace.

I am a Muslim, a religious person from the start. The thing I stand for now and forever. I believe that we should be known for being human. Not for what people believe in, not for our clothes. Just for being human and that, Is something not a thing in this world can take away From us. Not you, not me, nothing. We are the race of human beings, We should stick together If not now not ever.

I walked into class on the first day of school . I see the curious looks they cast upon me. I don’t lower my head, For I am not lower than anyone. I see how you stare at my hijab that covers my head. My sign that says don’t judge me by how I look, But how I am inside instead. I am not scared of you or your stares. I walk with pride. Ignoring the eyes that burn into my head.

I am not a terrorist, I have eyes and ears like anyone else. I reach my hand out waiting for someone, Anyone who is willing to understand my pain. A person who will believe in me. I don’t wish to hurt anyone, I want to be friends . Look inside me and you will see, The truth that lies within me. I don’t believe in violence, I believe in peace.

~Lubna Vasay Mohiuddin

8th grade student

41 Art Credit: Agnes Karkoszka 6th grade student

Art Credit: Zarish Hafeez 6th grade student

Art Credit: Michaela Hayes 6th grade student

I wish it was easy to forgive you, And all the tears you caused, The pain you caused, The unimportance you made me feel. You‟ve made it impossible for forgiveness. I wish it was easy to forgive you, For all those rumors you spread, And stabbed my back, And made me cry myself to sleep.

“The real problem with this extravaganza is not its glitz, but its amnesia,— the ignoring for our need to change attitudes.”

I wish it was easy to forgive you, The sound of your name tears me apart, The fear of befriending you again, Not wanting to go through the stress again.

~Eileen Small Caitlin Arquines‟ grandmother

Music

I wish it was easy to forgive you, Your cold heart made me shatter in pieces, The way you used me and thought that I would forgive and forget, And for all this pain you caused me. You made it impossible for me to forgive you.

The sound of it The different kinds My ear hits As it roams my mind

~Giselle Ortega 6th grade student

Listen, Like, Love Til death do us part Man with silver glove But this is just a start

Galaxy The flame on a candle wick dwindles Upon a swirling crimson sea

R&B, Hip-Hop Music we shall not loose If so a heart might stop A choice we shouldn't choose Is so doves will cry Thieves in the temple will die ~Shantoria Flowers 8th grade student

Hidden underneath a scarlet veil Jewels bat their lashes A firework of shattered stained glass An explosion in slow motion The depths of the universe cannot contain The miracles of heaven ~Maggie Hackett Mrs. Hackett’s daughter

42 Art Credit: Nicole Shanley 6th grade student

Art Credit: Alondra Aguirre 7th grade student

The Piano I walk downstairs, Stepping to the beat of the song in my head. I hear the wooden boards Under my feet creaking After every few steps. I turn right into the living room, And go by the piano. I turn on the metronome To a moderate speed. TICk, tick, tick, tick, TICk, tick, tick, tick. I sit down on the shiny wooden bench, I pull up the wood cover and Place my hands in Middle-C-Position. And I play the scale. I crescendo as I play up. And decrescendo as I play down. And hold out the last note, Getting louder and louder. I slide the metronome under the flap, And place my finger on the first key. And play a run back and forth. I flip through pages on the old piano book, And find a song. I place my hands on the keys, And play the song. I pay close attention to the dynamics, Getting louder and softer. I push down the damper pedal After every few measures. And I make the staccato notes fast and light. I hold out the last note. And I stand up, And close the cover carefully. And walk back upstairs, To the beat of the song.

Art Credit: Stephanie Forth Nicole Shanley‟s friend

I live in a doorway between two rooms. I hear gossiping and laughing at people that aren't in our "circle" or whatever. The smell of perfume being sprayed and girls putting makeup on being jealous of each other in our own way of what we have or don't have. I peek into the other room and see a room with no father. People are sad putting a mask on— thinking everything is okay — hiding what's really going on — which brings back the memories of the torture he gave us. And me pretending to be something I'm not just to make everyone happy except myself... I stare down the hallway and see the life I always wanted— being who I am and not pretending to do or be anyone but myself like I normally do. My personality would be so different if I was myself— I wouldn't wear these uncomfortable clothes that suffocate me — I'd wear some sweats so that I can relax... But of course... I‟m in middle school— In the middle of the chaos. I'm stuck where I am for now.

~Aly Pusateri 6th grade student

~Serenity Chambers 6th grade student 43

“My Birth Effect That Happened For Good” by Yaso Laemmer 8th grade student “Everything happens for a reason.” That is what I think when I think of changes. I think things happen for a reason. God makes us take paths to people or things and changes us to help us grow and develop. And for that reason we must accept who we are. I was 6 and a half, getting off in airplane into my new life. There are many situations I had to come in contact with. First of all, I did not know how to speak English. I also had a walking disability called Cerebral Palsy. It’s hard to fit in with the rest. It isn’t hard to notice me. Crutches mainly. Then you got 6 people in my family and interpreter. I have a brother who was adopted from China, but he comes later in my life. It’s not very often you see a person like that. I spoke Thai well. When people looked at me, they saw a girl with crutches with no cast. When people often use crutches, it is often used with a cast for an injury. They thought that was abnormal. Other problems came along when I wanted to do the same things as other people. But I couldn’t. I wasn’t a good runner, wasn’t able to climb trees or able to ride a fast bike like my peers. So I felt alone. You get very alone when you get stuck in a new place. The night when my family took me home, Mom had made Thai dinner. The interrupter told my family what I was saying. When you’re out of your comfort zone, you tend to get scared. Really scared. At 6 and a half, you don’t have a clue to what’s going on. I threw a walker at my mom, cutting her lip open. As I look back on that today I would have never done that. Life set me with all these challenges I wasn’t ready to face. But all problems have a solution. Changes don’t have to be sad; they can sometimes change your life for the good. My sister Jantha had held a picture of me when she was adopted by my parents. So Mom and dad decided to get me right after they found out that I needed a family. So after I came to America, I took two years of kindergarten to learn English. My classmates would look at me in a different way than they did with other people. They would take a good ten seconds look at me, strangely. That made me feel different and uncomfortable. I would get irrigated with people asking me the same thing over and over again. “Why do you have crutches? What happened to your legs?” I looked like a person with many problems. But there was mainly just one, trying to find a place where I belonged. Over the last few years, I’ve changed, not just on the outside, but also on the inside too. Having Cerebral Palsy made me realize that there are a lot of people who have it a lot worse than I do. I speak English fluently now. I don’t remember very much Thai. In this world we ourselves to think we are imperfect. We want to change at one point or another. Even now I’m struggling to find myself, for this is going to take years. Cerebral Palsy is a problem that changed my life forever. I learned that things happen for a reason. Everyone is not the same; no one will ever be the same because there is only one you in this world. Just be yourself!

Frostbite Inspired by The Jungle Different little boy I hide inside home from snow Fingers frosted hard. ~Ryan Koberstein 8th grade student

“By ignoring those solutions, diverts attention from real hopes and makes those who still believe in compassion look like real dopes.” 44

~Eileen Small Caitlin Arquines‟ grandmother

Photo Credit: Aly Pusateri 6th grade student

A Gift With patient eyes and curious stares students sit about. All waiting for something, any part of speech. Standing there, all alone, the teacher begins to speak. Everyone expectant of the man before them. Slowly, words form, steadily flowing from the teacher’s mouth, with a lulling repetitiveness. Staring eyes, oh those staring eyes, they cannot see. Those eyes, they unable to see the gift. A gift which was given to guide and to teach. Precious and unique is the gift so rarely understood. For there is nothing above this gift, which opens minds and hearts alike. Something sentimental, that is not seen. But each and every one of those staring eyes, Never doubt the joy or importance of the gift. Now we send unto you, with memories so dear. All of our hearts we give to you. We wish you good luck as we send you off to finish, What the gift was meant to start. ~Abi Crowne 8th grade student

“I h oth ave th er a r bno ee ad rm ult c ~E alit ilee ies. hildre Cai n Sm nb ” tlin a ut n Arq ll o uin es‟ gra ndm oth er

Follow your dream. Take one step at a time and don‟t settle for less. Just continue to climb. Follow your dream. If you stumble, don‟t stop and lose sight of your goal. Press to the top. For only on top, can we see the whole view. Can we see what we‟ve done and what we can do— Can we then have the vision to seek something new—Press on. Follow your dream. ~Kylie Burkett 7th grade student

Photo Credit: Mrs. Gruca 6th grade teacher

My birthday's coming up

shouldn't I be happy I am.. Or maybe I'm not

Maybe it's just a mask that I've had to put on so much that I don't know if I'm happy or if it's the mask But It's my birthday Shouldn't I be happy I am.. I'm really bad at lying as you can see because I'm not happy I'm sad and if you can't see that by my writing then u must be.. blind I guess you can say it's my birthday Shouldn't I be happy I am.. No I'm not but if I wasn't able to write there would be no reason for my life to go on

Photo Credit: Kailee Eggert 6th grade student

~Serenity Chambers 6th grade student

“Saving London: The Story of Kevin Truep” by Michael Farrar 7th grade student Chapter 1 The cold nights out here in the unclaimed valley were terrible. A bunker that was half decent belonged to the Colonel, John Briggs. I was squished in a bunker with a peep hole the size of an egg. I can‟t take this any longer. It was 1837 when the war of London started. The French sent us a letter. This is what it said: Dear London, The French have been planning something for 3 months and settled with a sweet agreement. We want half of London for our Army. If you don’t accept our agreement in less than 3 days, we will go to war, Sincerely, French Government Our leader did not accept this. So, we are in war. The lower classmen live in the same size bunkers as I do. It‟s not fair. I‟m working harder to try to become more respected here. Men were never taught to slack around here and daydream about when this nightmare will seize. The next morning, I work up in a disaster. I was hearing missiles exploding and dirt was flying into my eyes. The sergeant was in my face with a cigarette in his mouth and giving me his hand. I got up and he gave me a Carbine with a bayonet on the top. I ran out of my bunker and saw 5 people dead. I knew today was going to be a bloody day someone said. I got the chills all through my body right as I heard that. As I started fighting in the war, I noticed something different. There were not as much men out here as the last war of the Italians and the Germans. I turned my heard and saw 10 tanks behind me. Sergeant Griggs was on the machine gun and Commander Theo was inside. I knew what was going to go down fast. I backed away and let Theo and Griggs get down to their business. I had a grin on my face that looked like I had just beaten up someone. I knew London was sage at last. I started walking forward when a Springfield bullet almost threw me down. Another one zoomed passed me and I jumped behind bushes. I fell hard and when I opened my eyes, my girl instincts came out fast. I was looking into the eyes of a Python. I shot it with 2 bullets, while screaming like a girl. I popped up from behind the bush and got sniped in my left hip. I fell down fast and the Major ran over to me and yelled, “Medic!” I then blacked out and felt numb. I didn‟t know what was happening. All I was feeling was me bouncing from the medic running me to a safety camp. I started to gain consciousness but I wasn‟t fully recovered. When I looked towards my legs, I passed out for good. Chapter 2 I woke up in a helicopter and had many bandages on my waist and head. The medics told me that the reason I had bandages on my head was for when I hit my head on the floor. I landed on a bullet buried in the ground sticking up. I also was informed that I had a serious concussion. I could not move my head or else I felt very dizzy. The man that was driving our helicopter told us to brace for a quick landing. The landing was a bumpy time from the landing pad that was on the grass. It was dilapidated and had little hills in the ground. I got carried into the hospital and into a room that was very nice. I read a big metal sign that said first class wing. I grabbed the remote for the TV and turned it on. I turned on Channel 7 and looked at the time. 10:00. I knew Oprah was on today and began watching when it flipped to a channel that said, “Breaking News!” I sat up and fell back down from the dizziness. It said that London was under attack badly. The reported told everyone that all Army commanders were going to the battle scene as we speak. I turned off the TV and fell asleep for 2 hours. I woke up and a doctor gave me 3 shots for my cuts. I turned on the TV and a commander told everyone that the war was over and London was safe. Chapter 3 It was 1850 and London was at peace for now with the French. I retired from the Army now that I have fully recovered from my bullet wound. As spoke by the president of London, London will be at peace for the rest of eternity. When hearing that quote, I feel safe because I know that the president knows we are safe. I‟m happy I fought in that war because I know I saved my country. 47

“Smoke Head” by Joel Torres 6th grade student When I was little, my dad always smoked near me. Every time I saw him smoke, I thought to myself, What does he smoke for? I found out that smoking was bad for him. I don‟t like smoke in the house because when my friends come over, they always smell the smoke. Sometimes they just don‟t hang out with me anymore. I think it‟s because of the smoke. One day I saw my dad‟s cigarettes and I broke them in half. My dad got really mad. He screamed at me. Then, he looked at me with a really mad face. I thought he was going to killed me for breaking his cigarettes. Now, he knows not to bring cigarettes in the house. He stopped smoking and just moved on with his 48 life. I wish he will never smoke again.

Photo Credit: Aly Pusateri 6th grade student

-BrokenThere once was a man his name was Guy. Sadly, but surely he told a lie. And this my friends is how he die. As he swings from the gallows the gallows high. -Garrett Bernhagen Former JFK student „09

Life baseball field, is like a Art Credit: Kylie Burkett Dirt going in my mouth, 7th grade student If anger was a color, It would be dark red, As smoking hot as a burning stove, If anger was a taste, It would be mushrooms, If anger was a feeling, Ballad of the Knight It would be as warm as a hot pan, Hark! I am the valiant knight of Prevair If anger was a smell, Many battles I have shared It would be an athlete‟s armpit, To get myself all the way to the top Not caring whose life I must stop. If anger was a sound, It would be as noisy as a band at a football game. Hark! I am the powerful knight of Prevair I crush people in my way without care Friends are the only potential enemies I think of them vehemently.

~Josh Schuetz 6th grade student

Hark! I am the lonely knight of Prevair The country folk look at me with glares I ma be the strongest But I‟ve been along for the longest.

I forgive you Even though there is not much to forgive You might have been A bad friend but You eventually came through Forgiving you was not easy But I knew that I’d have to forgive you sometime Forgiving you was like Learning to ride a bike You fall off and keep trying But eventually you get the hang of it. ~Justin Bolero 6th grade student

~Isaiah Hall 7th grade student

Photo Credit: Mrs. Orlos JFK Principal

“Tom and Jerry: Speedy Arrives” by Randy Richardson It was like any other day--Tom was chasing Jerry. Tom had a frying pan in his hand. Wham! Tom slammed Jerry with the pan. Jerry was limping to his hole. Jerry dialed the phone. The person said, “Yes man? What it is?” Jerry said, “Squeak Squeak” which means “Hey Speedy, it’s me Cousin Jerry.” “Yeah, I know” said Speedy. Jerry said, “Squeak Squeak” which means “Come help, Speedy. Hurry!” “Arriba! Arriba! Andale! Andale!” Speedy jumped from the phone line and rushes over to Jerry’s house. Here comes

Looney Tunes fastest Spanish mouse— Speedy Gonzales.

In no time, Speedy got to Jerry’s front door he said, “It’s Speedy!” Jerry answered the door with a smile. Little did they know, Speedy and Jerry were in for a huge surprise because Sylvester the cat, the one that is always after Tweety, had followed them and joined Tom against Jerry and Speedy. Jerry was hungry and offered to make sandwiches for his cousin. Speedy suddenly had jumped and yelled “Arriba Arriba Andale Andale” because he saw Tom and Sylvester lurking around the corner. Tom jumped at the mice and landed on some peanut butter. Tom ended up taking Speedy and stuffing him into the peanut butter jar and closed the lid. That held Speedy in his place. Tom came on the left of Jerry and Sylvester came on the right. Jerry took a golf club and tripped Tom and Tom went straight into Sylvester. In the meantime, Speedy ate a hole through the jar and ran at Tom. Sylvester saw this and started to chase Speedy. But, everyone knows who wins a race with Speedy Gonzalas. Sylvester chased Speedy all of the way to the airport. Speedy tricked Sylvester into going onto a plane. When Speedy saw that he had Sylvester trapped, he closed the plane door. The cat was on a oneway trip back to Mexico City. Speedy ran back 49 to Jerry’s house and peeked in the window. He saw Tom with a frying pan in his hand waiting for Jerry to walk through the door. There was no sign of Jerry. Speedy watched and waited. Nobody moved. Until out of the corner of his eye, Speedy saw Jerry on the top of the kitchen cabinets with a blowing ball on the edge—ready to roll off to hit Tom. Speedy walked away shaking his head. Tom and Jerry will always be the same…

Texting The phone flashes It‟s my friend to say “hey” Then I text back Tick, tap, against the keys Buzz! Buzz! The phone flashes This is great...and fun! I comment. Tap. Tap. My nails hit the touchscreen. Then she texted back A.S.A.P. Tick. Tap against the keys. She replies “WYD” for “What are you doing?” I say, “NMU” for “ Nothing much, you?”

Photo Credit: Jill Thornton Ashley Smoldt‟s friend

TTYL, TTYT, BRB, LOL, BTW Texting is fun to me and my friends.

Football Ahh, football... It‟s the greatest sport in the world. You may not think so but I do.

Buzz! Buzz! The phone flashes. The texting against the screen Tick, tap. Some say they‟d rather be fishing Me? I‟d rather be texting. All day. Every day. ~ Brooke Szot 6th grade student

ows t all a h t el e fu oduce h t r s i ork ple to p w m o .” “Tea mon pe results n m co mmo her o mot d unc n ll ra Sma uines‟ g n e e q l ~Ei itlin Ar Ca

It might seem easy: tackling, getting mad, kicking the ball with a worn-out shoe but it‟s much more complicated than it seems. They all work hard to get to the game of their dreams. It‟s very hard being a football player. But being the perfect one is very rare. How long does a person practice? Well, how much do you want it? Touchdown! ~Hannah Lancaster 6th grade student

Lava Lamp I see kids every day. I always light up. I feel happy. Nobody ever forgets about me. I will say “good morning” I‟m fragile—I will break. The kids love me. I check that they learn. I have feelings too. At the end of the day, the kids will turn my energy off— that is when I say “good bye” 50

Photo Credit: Dominic Tarello 8th grade student

~Andrew Zavala 6th grade student

Photo Credit: Kailee Eggert 6th grade student

-A Summer‟s DayUnderneath a willows leaf is where I met my love. A hanging head of vines lay dead and fall to touch the ground. Near the water's edge is where we swam in warm rays of sun. It seemed to me that what this was is something far beyond a simple game of love and learn. No it was far more I swear. For I met my love underneath a willows leaf and as the night draw near. I pull her aside from the receding tide into the warmth of the setting sun. Walking away our love sets free. A day well spent, is done.

My Basement

-Garrett Bernhagen Former JFK student „09

In my basement, it’s a total mess Never to clean or become any less There’s keys, there’s locks, there’s too much stuff

I am basketball From cocoa puffs and Maxwell house coffee I am from the three story white condo with White and black shutters Nice and shiny I am from the flower The rose with its red petals I am from thanksgiving And also band From Keilani and William I‟m from the respect all people And respect your elders From always do your best I‟m from believe in yourself I‟m from Alabama Turkey and ham From the great grandfather lives on a farm The great grandfather was in the Air Force 28 years Getting older playing sports From basketball and football From baseball and tennis My mom making sure I‟m active I am from my dad‟s active And my mom‟s loving side. ~Khaleel Holmes 6th grade student

To clean it, no way, it’s way too rough There’s wires, there’s pictures, there’s also socks There’s sticks, there’s shoelaces, there’s even rocks It’s filled with puzzles and papers and a little ring There’s also a bee waiting to give a nasty sting There is a statue that’s very tall Next to a mouse that’s very small There’s knives, there’s chairs and a lot of junk All stuffed up in my small toy trunk So you see my basement is a total mess Never to clean or become any less -Justin Sanghani 6th grade student

A Lone Tree A lone tree— that’s what I am. Moving only when my neighbor, the wind, blows by. A lone tree— black and white frames me— weeping crying My branches hang down.

Photo Credit: Erica Basile Gianni Basile‟s mother

“What my Father Means to Me” by Robert Ogbuli 6th grade student

A lone tree— I die alone except for the fog that circles around and my neighbor, the wind.

My father is the best. He taught me everything. He taught me to tie my shoes ~Vicki Wisniewski when I was little. He taught me how to speak Nigerian and makes me laugh all of the 6th grade student time. And, he’s done some really cool things in his life. He’s a nurse and some people think that only women are nurses but the truth is, some men are nurses and that’s my dream job to be a nurse—just like my dad. Some other things that my dad did in his life was when he was 11 years old, like me, he lived in Nigeria. His family was poor and he got a job for herding animals. I’m actually proud of my dad for doing that because his family was really poor and he worked. Later, he got enough money to come to America and to start a new life and get a new job to get more money. Another thing that is cool about my dad is that he works overnight just to make more money. We don’t get to see him all of the time. But when he is here, he’s a comedian. Whenever me or my siblings do anything embarrassing, he has a I‟d like to forgive funny joke to make us laugh even harder. I love my Dad.

Son, life is like a video game It tells you how to play at first Then it lets you go off on your own Yes, you might lose some games or levels But then you just try it again The longer you play the better you get There will be people in the game to help you out But they‟re not always going to be there The harder the levels get the closer you are to finishing the game And when the game ends that‟s where you will decide If you have any regrets playing the game Or was it the best game you ever played. ~Kyle Mehok Doherty 6th grade student

But what you did to me Was unforgivable to me You treated me like I was dirt

You said “I hate you.” Then you expected me to forgive you And you was my best friend How can you ever say that to me And I did so much for you. You came over to my house everyday And this is how you treat me ~Demonte Rice 6th grade student

Photo Credit: Carol DiGrazia Jessica DiGrazia‟s mother

“The deal tragedy— w k be do ith the n nowing h eed— ne w ith.” what ow to need ~Eile s to en Sm a Caitl in Ar ll quine s‟ gra ndm other

“What my Dad Means to Me” by Shelby Voorhees 6th grade student Lonely I sit all day waiting for people to pick me up and read the words inside of me. I‟ve been picked up a few times but I‟m always put back— I don‟t even know what I‟m even here. My pages are ripped and all I do is sit on a shelf and have people flip through my pages.

My dad means the world to me. He makes me smile every day. We laugh a lot together. He plays games with my siblings. He makes a good dinner which I wish we had more often. He helps me with my homework and makes me interested in his job. He lets us read stories together. He makes pancakes on certain mornings and we go golfing in the spring. It hurts me when he goes to work; it hurts even more when he goes on a business trip. It hurts me when he yells but I am grateful for him because I don’t know what I’d do within him. I love you, Dad.

~Allyssa Savaglio 6th grade student

Art Credit: Jason Pacanowski 8th grade student

Green Chicken I am a green chicken. I am able to fly. I will never be normal. There is chicken talk around. Though I’ll never get fried. I am a green chicken. I can’t even do the chicken walk. “Ka-ah-doodle-do” the rooster goes. I will never be normal. Chickens are being sold here and there. I am the one that is too slow. I am the green chicken. I am the one no one wants. Eggs, eggs by the Spring. I will never be normal.

Photo Credit: Kailee Eggert 6th grade student

Chicks, chicks popping up. I can’t even lay an egg. I am a green chicken. I will never be normal.

Rocking Chair I‟m a rocking chair All broken and taped I see all the people around me I see all those lucky desks whit children in them All happy and used But all I am is unused

~Keri Edgeworth 6th grade student

Music

I feel all mad That I‟m not used If I could be used I‟d be happy If I could be used

Music is life It achieves goals and wishes. It is rewarded for what it‟s accomplished. It ages but will still be remembered.

If I could talk I would say “get on me” or, “ unused rocking chair here.” I would ask I would yell I just want attention I just want to be used

Music is fun. It makes me want to dance. It flows smoothly, has rhythm, and beat. It brings joy and will always be remembered. Music is language. It tells different stories: sometimes a fairytale—so magical. It speaks to me. It will still be remembered.

Then came a boy His name was Bob He sat on me And I felt happy For the first time in a while I have been used ~Michael Vitha-Nolan 6th grade student

Music is the world. It has different nationalities: Black, white, Hispanic, Asian—we‟re equal Life, fun, language—It is the world.

~Areona Hinkle 6th grade student

My Friend Fights His Video Games He sits in his room, like a computer that’s always moving its mind—fast. My friend is playing video games. When I’m at his house, I hear screams of anger as the poor quality internet makes the computer slow. I wonder if he will ever get off of his games. As he sees, “Game Over,” on the screen he loses his temper and take it out on others. I see the computer screen cracking. After he finishes yelling, he plays again and in his mind, he needs to beat it but the computer’s battery is low. He gets so close, but loses again. His temper gets hot and he starts throwing things— things that mean a lot to him. He throws the system out his window and he can’t take it anymore— no hope— the computer has shut down and is unchargable. ~Markus Johnson 6th grade student Art Credit: Samantha Manetti 8th grade student

Topic Notebook

I live in a doorway between two rooms. I hear my parents yelling, my brother whining, my sisters crying. No silence in the house. I peek into the other room and I see my classmates working hard— sad faces and plastic smiles— not a care in the world. People laughing and then complete silence. Teachers looking—not saying a word. People in competitions for popularity and being mean to one another.

I sit on the shelf waiting for someone to write in me. When I see someone coming Toward s me I get all excited. It turns out they‟re getting something else. I want to be written in. I sit by my friends. We are all Dusty so freak out. The dust makes me sneeze. I don‟t know how they can handle the dust. They act like it‟s no big deal. I can‟t stand it. I want to be written in. When I wait I feel abandoned. I feel like I am not worthy enough to be written in. When people walk by they look at me and walk away. The next time someone looked at me they wrote in me. I was finally written in. -Lilibeth Bitner 6th grade student

-Daniel Manetti 6th grade student 55

Grandmother to Son

I know it‟s hard but keep going on. You will make it… If I made it—you will too. Just keep going on. As I know, it‟s harder every day but listen around you and you will hear me say— “Come on.” “Do better.” You will make it if I made it. I probably wouldn‟t be here if someone weren‟t there for me. And when I‟m not around, please remember, I will be right in your heart forever— right where I belong. -Ryan Weaver 6th grade student

I live in a doorway between two rooms. I hear sadness. I see a meanness in their eyes. I feel like I can’t be myself. I smell fear. I taste sickening rising from my stomach— especially around my friends.

Guitar Strum a chord, play a note, pick a string— Harmony.

I peek in the other room. I hear a sense of calmness. I feel happy. It tastes like I’m home. The smell is calming. I see happiness ahead for tomorrow.

The air fills with music: Graceful. Open. Clear.

-Nicole Shanley 6th grade student

ers answ e e h t all . Th have , bore me o h pen ple w r ions “Peo ry quest ving an o fill it fo o e a t v h s e th nt to e wa le wi troub —everyon mind ” r you! othe m d l n l a ra en Sm ines‟ g ~Eile lin Arqu Cait

Joy reaches my heart while playing the stringed instrument. A golden ring rings in my ear. Strum a chord, play a note, pick a strong— Harmony. ~Vicki Wisniewski 6th grade student

-A Farmers SerenadeA bead of sweat falls down my face. With my arm I shall replace.

Art Credit: Freddy DeSaintiago 8th grade student

A hard day's work is never done tending fields underneath a relentless sun. Back breaking is my name, endless labor is the game. With land to sow and a family to feed. Work forever is my deed.

56 Art Credit: Morgan Shelton 8th grade student

-Garrett Bernhagen Former JFK student „09

“Grandpa” by Tristan Romero 6th grade student “Back in the 1940s I was a soldier in the army. I was 19 when I had an amazing day. ” My grandpa would always tell me that and then one day I said “Grandpa, what happened that day?” “Well I guess I‟ll tell you.” *** It was 1941 and I was in Italy, the day was fine and my comrades and I were having some Italian coffee with pastries and my friend Joe said “We have an easier time here than the guys in Germany or Japan.” “Why is that Joe?”I inquired. “Because we haven‟t been attacked in like, months. Is that not right? Joe asked. “Mighty true Joe, mighty true.” I answered. Just then, Mark said “The Italian government is losing hundreds of dollars every minute.” That‟s rare because Mark was the silent type and that‟s all he had said all day. Miguel, an older soldier and higher ranked than all of us yelled “Get back to base all of you lazy dogs.” So that‟s exactly what we did. *** That night was crazy. Everything we said had the opposite of what we thought would happen. We got attacked and man, did Mark scream loud when that bridge broke on him. All anybody could think of was „get to your battle stations.‟ Someone had to save him so that he wouldn‟t die. I screamed out” Mark!” And I heard a big explosion and saw only smoke and the smell of steel burning corrosive acid in the air. Mark was fine at least I had hoped he was. By the time I had reached him, his face was covered in smoke and ash. His eyebrows were singed off and he was bleeding from a cut in his leg. It looked like a bullet was deep in his leg and cracked the bone in half. First off, I had to get him off the bridge. I lifted him off the bridge and could see he had many injuries from the bomb. As I slowly lifted him off the bridge, he was hurt very badly with about ten or fifteen burns and an uncountable amount of cuts. All that time, everybody was just getting their weapons and getting to their posts not even caring about Mark. *** My arms were sore and my legs were killing me and when I went to get my gun it wasn‟t there I guess that someone had took it. Great, this is just great. My gun‟s gone and I‟m a sweaty mass of blood and cuts. Looks like I’m sitting this one out. I said to myself. Mark was half asleep and I was tired to the max. Staying up was hard but I had some chocolate, cold coffee and an apple strudel. “Wait a second” I said. “Where‟s Joe and Miguel and everyone else.” I asked Mark. “Outside getting hurt a lot” He said. “Can you see the American flag at all Mark.” I asked him. “Yeah it‟s still there and it‟s all fine too, just some smoke and ash are on it” He replied. Then being the bugler for the army Mark started playing the national anthem, The Star Spangled Banner. And then I thought about how lucky I was to be an American. *** Man, that was a night. I had no energy at all from last night. Everybody was ready to leave this base because nobody wanted to get attacked two nights in a row. *** “So that‟s what happened when you were nineteen?” I inquired. “That‟s right” My grandpa replied. 57

MY DREAM

Butterfly I see it The butterfly

Trash Like a trashcan, I sit there.

As it tries to

Every once in awhile

Escape from its cocoon

something nasty is thrown at me. Sometimes they miss

Its struggling I want to help it But mama says

leaving filth by me until my surroundings are cleaned and I have a new garbage bagâ&#x20AC;&#x201D; empty.

If I touch it It will die

~Areona Hinkle 6th grade student

So I donâ&#x20AC;&#x;t help I just watch it As it struggles

My dreams hold memories, Of bags, planes, boats, and junk, The twists and turns, The trains the tracks, All involved, More and more gets added, All for a purpose, To make me dream more, Soaring in a plane, Sailing in a boat, All an adventure, Treasure unseen, Stories untold, Trunks with models, All waiting to be more, Than what they are, Bigger and better, Dreams get more advanced, Pictures stay patched up in your mind, Stories are made to be told. Matthew Robinson 6th grade student

I feel like the butterfly,

What if rage was a color?

Trapped

It would be the darkest red you can imagine

But everyone just stares

As hot as a pit of boiling hot lava

As it struggles

If rage was a taste

To break free

It would taste spicy, sour, and bitter

~Jordan Miller 6th grade student

It would be as hot as the hottest pepper If rage was a feeling it would be as fiery as the brightest bonfire If rage was a smell It would smell of smoke and flames If rage was a sound It would be as shrill as steel roughly rubbing on iron ~Devan Howerton 6th grade student

58 Art and quote found by: Carolyn Froenlich 8th grade student

“Wishes”

Fear A clear smoke Clouds around me Every second I tremble I fall Fear looks at me Right in the eyes Smells of fire Standing on a tall cliff Edge of the summit Nothing above Nothing below Yet I tremble I fall In my mind I see darkness Fear closing in Caving in Ready to crush Demolish I need to walk away, Talk with, Stand up to, Overcome This fear. ~Mr. Greene 6th grade teacher

by Tristan Romero 6th grade student If I had found the genie bottle, I would be sitting on my mountain of cheese, watching TV on my thousand inch television, and counting my quadrillion dollars...but, no, my brother Rico HAD to find the bottle instead. Rico was four and could barely talk so he was always acting instead of speaking. We went for a walk and we were in a neighborhood field that we had to walk through to get home. He found the bottle and shook it up. A genie came out and let him have three wishes. My brother‟s first wish was, “Peas, want peas.” Oh brother, he wished for peas...like the canned peas with old paint color. The genie said, “Peace...a noble wish that I have not granted in a long time. A peaceful period of 100 years will live on in the world.” I could tell Rico was disappointed. He said, “Liver never.” Oh my goodness, did he just say no liver forever? What a waste of a wish! “Okay,” the genie said. “You will live forever.” Then I told Rico, “Be careful. This is your last wish.” Then Rico said, “Brother wish.” Then the genie said, “Okay, your brother will be a fish.” Oh no. “Oh noooo!” I yelled and the next thing that happened was I felt a shrinking sensation and I could not breathe anymore.

I stand above everything in the room. Every morning people speak to me. I feel so special when they say those words that seem to make my day I watch them write down their home work in their agendas I smell the clean air and dust I see them come in and out of the class each time a new set of kids ~Kayla Aniz Playo 6th grade student 59

The Power of a Rumor

Video Games Games, Some good, Some are really bad, Like racing games, Shooting games too, You could get the games at Wal-Mart, Target, And GameStop too, There is call of duty, Halo, Need for speed, Uncharted 1, And 2, Sonic unleashed, Those are some, Time to have fun.

It makes a great story and it‟s source can never be reached This is why they‟re so prevalent and damaging. They are big ugly twisters of verbal garbage. Even if the most shocking speculation turned out to be true, it would be impossible to pick out the facts. ~Eileen Small Caitlin Arquines‟ grandmother

I am from my Ipod I am from the brown painted house Brick patio and wooden chairs I am from the flowers The trees With my bare feet Going through the grass

~Israel Castillo 6th grade student

I‟m from chicken noodle soup on Halloween Putting up the Christmas tree after Thanksgiving From Janet and Jim I‟m from blue eyes From do what you‟re told to And if you don‟t have something nice to say don‟t say it I‟m from Poland and Canada/ France Don‟t ignore people Listen and do it I‟m from the Kolton family Pizza and chicken From dads city streets And moms backyards Brother teaching me Right from wrong And everything more Photo Credits: Kailee Eggert 6th grade student

~Amy Kolton 6th grade student

Evil Supermodel Just say it, we all worry I‟m too skinny I‟m too fat We think it but it‟s a lie These supermodels in the magazine They‟re just as bad as murderers The difference is they get away So we cry We starve ourselves We stuff ourselves To look like them Treating our lives like a game Those supermodels They have our lives in their hands They don‟t worry though their too pretty To feel shame ~Jordan Miller 6th grade student

-One to Remember-

Photo Credit: Carol DiGrazia Jessica DiGrazia‟s mother

Subway Whenever I eat at the restaurant Subway All the people I hear around me seem to be having a good day So whenever I eat that delicious foot long I feel like singing the Subway theme song But it‟s boring waiting in line to order your meal The people in front of me hardly know how I feel It seems as if I‟m standing still as if I were a statue Plus the people walking from the bathroom smell like eww Then my face starts turning all red like the sun Then I start to cool down when my order was finally all done So I look around me to see how everyone is doing But they were so focused on their sandwich and just kept chewing So I guess everyone was in a pretty good mood today And I have nothing else to say. ~Josh George 6th grade student

An evening‟s cloak is trodden black. Stars litter the silken clad of sky. Fireflies dot the landscape in an eerie silence. The grass lay cool beneath my feet. And as I sit down to the ground I notice not but one sound. I turn to my right and there I see my darling perched there brilliantly. The moon that shines over the blackened sky illuminates us meeting eye to eye. I take her hand and she takes mine. A summer‟s evening sets us free a love that renders beautifully. Peace sets over and there I see, two perfect for eternity. As she falls asleep within my arms not one thing could I let harm. This instance where times cease to pass, together forever, my first and my last. 61

-Garrett Bernhagen Former JFK student „09

Art Credit: Ninel Carreto 8th grade student

Photo Credit: Carol DiGrazia Jessica DiGrazia‟s mother

It‟s Spring! Spring, spring, it‟s spring again! Life is beautiful, the different hues of flowers make it so. Spring, my favorite season of the year. Tulips, daffodils everywhere — Trees are seen happily waving their branches. Twigs with dancing and prancing yellow green leaves— Breathtaking array of cherry blossoms in the park, Breeze, so fresh mellowing the steel magnolias of one‟s heart— Children begin to fill up parks and playgrounds, Sweet sounds of birds chirping, singing — Robin‟s nest with tiny blue eggs soon to hatch — Flattering lace, beige, mauve and pink Proms, corsages and limousines— Beauty , youth exudes in the air Spring, full of life! How I wish it‟s always spring! ~Belinda Jimenez Brad Jimenez‟s mother

Us Do you hear me? I‟m screaming for you But you‟re not here

“Where goes the time go?”

Do you see me? I‟m looking for you But you ignore me

~Eileen Small Caitlin Arquines‟ grandmother

Can you understand me? I‟m asking you But you won‟t listen to me You watch me As I‟m leaving you But I don‟t care about you

Well son I`ll tell you Life ain`t no wilderness It has forest in it And animals And survival Everyday you‟re eating or being eaten Survival But everyday you‟re alive, you‟re adapting new things. And eating new things, Hiding from new predators, Where your body and surroundings are your weapons, You will always have challenges. Sometimes you might scared of them, Face and beat the challenges you face in life. I`m still facing challenges today, So be brave. Everyone going to have a limit even you. Survive and have success in your life -Noah Richardson 6th grade student

~Jordan Miller 6th grade student

If anger was a color, It would be dark red, As smoking hot as a burning stove, If anger was a taste, It would be mushrooms, If anger was a feeling, It would be as warm as a hot pan, If anger was a smell, It would be an athlete‟s armpit, If anger was a sound, It would be as noisy as a band at a football game. 62 ~ Josh Schuetz 6th grade student

Photo Credit: Teri Hubbard Eric and Danielle Hubbard‟s mother

“Living through Pearl Harbor” by Joe Lewicki Former JFK student „09 Awaking on a beautiful, sunny morning on December 7, 1941, I sit up and stretch. I stand up from my bunk bed, my brother Tony right above me, I rub my chin still adjusting my eyes to the dawning sun coming through my small round window of the boat I am on. The U.S.S. California, a Destroyer that we use in battle, but only for reinforcements. I look at my watch and it is 4:56. The warning bell rings in four minutes to tell me I have fifteen minutes until my shift starts. The smell of un-washed clothes and sweaty bodies under blankets reminds me of home, reminiscing on when my roomed smelled like that. “Aaahhh, sweet home.” I say to myself softly. Without knowing what is going on, Tony rolls over. “Shut up! Can‟t you see I am trying to sleep? Nine more months and you CAN go home.” He says tiredly. By this time, I know it is close to 5:00. The bugle blows to sound fifteen minutes left until next shift. I see my other brother stand up, Harry shuffles past me to the restroom and says, “Good-morning, Jack” Slurring his words tiredly. I nod my head in response. Still reminiscing about home, I notice I have to shave when the rough bristles of hair tingle my fingertips. I get up and get dressed in my work clothes, since I will be scrubbing the deck today, I wear really dirty clothes. I then use the restroom and shave. “Ah! Gosh darn it, I cut myself again!” I yell to myself painfully. The rocking motions of the waves make shaving very difficult. After about 25 minutes of a careful shave, I brush my teeth. After I am done, I notice large circles under my eyes. “Wow, I must really look bad since those six months of training and eight months of being on this stupid ship aanndd island.” I then run through the tight courters of the ship and pull myself up the ladder to the top deck. The pungent taste of salt is in my mouth, due to the cool breeze of the morning wind. I look at my watch again and it is 5:32. I look up and see my best friend Ted. He was the guy that I hung around in training camp, and luckily, he was assigned to the same ship as me. “Hey Ted!” I yell from across the ship. “Come over here and help me scrub the deck.” He yells back. I run over and he yells, “Hey! Slow down, it‟s a wet floor.” “Oh, sorry” I say. “How do you like those Packers?” I say smugly. “Okay, you know I am a Redskins fan, why do you have to say it now? You never, ever, talk about the Packers, and you talk about them NOW!” He say‟s madly. “Well…You‟re just upset that we creamed you!” I say snobbishly. By that time I am on my knees, washing with Ted. Scrubbing the boot marks and built up hard salt off the deck. I can stay here and talk to Ted. I have to wash the deck today anyways; at least I think I do. “Hey Ted, what day is today?” I say puzzled. “Sunday, stupid, what day did you think it was?” Ted says. “Nothing, just checking.” We scrub the remainder section of our part of the deck and I say to Ted secretively. “Hey look what I got.” I then pull out my playing cards. Ted then jumps happily in the air and screams. “Oh, oh, oh….what do I get to take away from you today in poker!” Harry and Tony come from either sides of the ship, just in time to start the recreation time of our shift. We play and play and when we get done it is 7:43. We don‟t have to do anything until 8:30 when we clean the bathrooms of our quarters. After we clean up our mess and give away the things everyone‟s lost, I know that there is work to be done. Mostly me.. As I put the cards back in my pocket, I hear planes. Those can’t be our planes, today isn’t target practice. “Are those our planes?” Harry questions. “Only if they are out to check for Japanese subs.” Tony says intently listening to the roar of the engine getting louder. “But, they checked yesterday intently and they check every week for them.” We look up in the sky and over the clouds we see hundreds of planes. All of a sudden they start to dive. “Oh…My…Gosh!” Yells Ted But before he can say anything the ship next to us explodes with a giant red fireball going into the air. Shooting on the coast starts to erupt. By the time I figure out that this is an attack, I hear a single engine plane come closer. The shots of machine gun fire roars through the air. Hitting the metal of the ship, pieces of shrapnel burst into my legs. I fall to the floor and the plane goes by and the big red dot of the Japanese symbol stands out. The Japs are attacking! Harry, Tony, and Ted all on the other side of the ship yells to me. “Come over here! Hurry!” I run over and I start to panic. I grab one of the AA guns that are mounted on the pivot stand and start to shoot. Mad with anger that the Japanese would attack and to protect our country, I keep shooting. Tony, about twenty yards away, was also on an AA gun shooting. “HAHA! Take that you Japs, that‟s what you get!” Shooting at one that is heading straight for me, nonstop shooting and I see black smoke come out one of the ends and I have taken down a plane. Noticing that this isn‟t doing any good, I take refuge in one of the ships many doors. The first one I pick is with Ted and Harry. I yell to Tony, “Tony it‟s not doing…..” when a bomb explodes right over the side of the ship due to the torpedoes, “…….any good! Get over here now!” “Our ship is on fire, we are goners if we don‟t get off, NOW!” Harry yells. Ted then comes up to me and says. “We need to jump.” He says almost in a whisper. “WHAT?!” I yell. “We need to jump over-board!” He says in an eerie voice that scares me. I run over to the bow of the ship and I look over. “Okay were going to63 jump!” I yell. Harry and Tony run over and Ted looks to be in an Ah struck. When a Japanese plane flies towards him and guns him down. Falling down, Ted dies right there due to the bullet to the head. But before I knew it, the plane turned around and was heading straight for us. Harry grabs me and we jump overboard, and that is all I can remember. I wake up in the hospital bed, bandages around my legs and stomach due to flying shrapnel, Harry and Tony lying in the bed next to me, still sleeping. I then remember that Ted died and I fall back to sleep crying.

What Mattie Stepanek Taught Me

Dreams

I know, now,

I dream the same dream every night being who I wanna be or become How the way I act, dress, speak would change And life was how I wanted it not how everyone wanted it to be for me just as a person But when I wake up I'm in a nightmare of reality and it sucks because if I could walk out of the house in sweats no make up and my hair not in my face It would be a miracle I don't wanna dress the way I do but I'm forced to by the people around me No one knows who I really am because I keep that person on the inside

not to be ashamed of what I know is right. I know, now, I am not the only one who wants to fly over the ocean as the sun sets and dolphins dance to the rhythm of our own heart songs and maybe fly to a place more peaceful and exciting. I know, now,

~Serenity Chambers 6th grade student

I am not the only one who wonders how alive you must feel when you can feel and breathe the refreshing breeze of fall—

Silence

then smell the birds and butterflies

The comfort in silence It‟s all I need

as the warmth of the sun assures you

No tear here No fears here Just me In silence

how the world can be—how we can shape it— how we can do all this and feel happy and loved. All in one day.

The peace In the suffocating silence

I know, now, I am not the only one who believes in the beauty and importance of optimism and being a child while you still can— which is forever.

Art Credit: Morgan Williams 8th grade student

I know, now, that someday when the leaves fall, I will climb the hand to the tips of the fingers where I hope to join you beyond and we can be not alone— together. So thank you, Mattie J.T. For letting me know, now, that I am not the only one. ~Caitlin Arquines 6th grade student

No screaming No arguing Just me In the silence ~Jordan Miller 6th grade student

“The Whispers of Water” I hear the waves crashing against the shore I hear the sun burning up my skin I hear the sand tickling between my toes making my foot twitch I hear rocks pitter pattering into the water I hear my body trembling as I keep going I hear my mind telling me never to stop I hear people screaming as they touch the water I hear the wind brushing against my ear I hear palm trees gusting leaves everywhere I hear drips of water falling slightly off of my body as I keep moving The whispers of the beach talked to me 64 -Emily Jaglin 7th grade student

Racecar Writer: A Metaphor Poem Turning the car keys to start the car, my fingertips begin typing. I push my foot onto the pedal and off goes my paper. I’m in the busy traffic of my paper— Things are starting to slow down. My fingertips are waiting… waiting… The slowness is sucking me in like a monster forcing me to be scared and stop, get out of the car, and into the opposite direction. I fight off the temptation to give up on my paper and and I’m back in fast. The car is moving I begin jotting down words as fast as a cheetah running for its prey. I’m getting closer to the finish line. I’m close to finishing up. I give my paper my all and cross the finish line with a period.

I live in a doorway between two rooms. I see an empty house—with just me in it. I feel the tension as we argue. I smell nothing cooking. I touch the tears as they run down my cheeks— And when I look in the other room— I hear gunshots from blocks away. I feel the boredom overcoming me. I smell fast food and never a home-cooked meal. I feel the annoyance as my little brother bothers me. ~Areona Hinkle 6th grade student

PREDATOR Wherever I appear to be— Prey catches my eye— I stalk. I’m frozen as if in a horrible blizzard— When another prey catches my eye— Which would feed me better? Like a puma, I pounce onto the better feed. I don’t flee but I compromise by catching the other prey— making a stuffed meal. ~Areona Hinkle 6th grade student

I live in a doorway between two rooms. I hear the school bell going off. Everywhere I look, I see faces—kids‟ faces. I hear laughter, gossip, and rumors being spread.

~Matt Guiterrez 6th grade student

I peek into the other room— familia laughing about the past, eating their delicious empanadas— smiling at one another, thinking, “Gracias, por ser parte de mi vida— thank you for being a part of my life.” 65 Art Credit: Justin Smith 6th grade student

~Karina Arias 6th grade student

Photo Credit: Erica Basile Gianni Basile‟s mother

THIS IS OUR FUTURE I REALIZE THIS MAY BE A SHOCK BUT MONEY DOESN’T BY YOU HAPPINESS IS 100% UNTRUE MONEY GIVES ME EVERYTHING I NEED GIVES ME EVERYTHING I WANT THE FAMILY IS IMPORTANT WHEN I DON’T HAVE TO WORK I KNOW I AM DOING RIGHT BECAUSE MY CHILDREN ARE NOT MORE IMPORTANT THAN FRIENDS I WILL LET YOU KNOW THAT OBAMA WILL GIVE US CHANGE IS A LIE JOHN MCCAIN WILL GIVE US CHANGE IN THE FUTURE OUR WORLD WILL BE GETTING WORSE IT’S CRAZY TO THINK THERE IS HOPE and this will only be true unless we do the reverse…. (read it backwards) ~Gina Mathews Former JFK student ‘09 Here I am in the quiet in my closet hiding place. No one bothers looking for me. That’s okay—they’re busy with their own problems.

The stillness of it all provides an eerie comfort. The darkness— an evil relief

People cry People lie People fail when they try but not in my closet hiding place.

They don’t see me. I see them. They don’t hear me. I hear them.

It hurts that they don’t look for me. No fears in my closet That’s okay. 66 No tear in my closet— They’re busy with their own problems. just me and the beat of my heart. —Jordan Miller 6th grade student

Dear Dad, Where are you? I miss you when you are gone. You make my heart torn— I feel like I don’t know you anymore. Where are you? When you’re home— You’re exciting and keep everything balanced and you cook and sing—you have such a talent. Where are you? Why aren’t you home yet? Is there traffic? Please give me a sign. Gotta come home. Gotta come home. Dennis is turning nine. You’re missing these moments— candles and cheers. Where are you? I come to the point where my rage explodes and now my heart is a balloon— It just popped It’s too late. Is gambling your new child? Where are you? It’s Christmas. Where are you? Where can you be? And then a fluffy miracle— a red velvet costume— You walk into the door and all you can say is… “Ho, Ho, Ho...Merry Christmas?” My dad had a bag with presents 1, 2, 3 all colors—a picture of A, B, C Now—this is my Christmas miracle this year. Dad says, “Everyone—can you forgive me?” I can’t say no— “I forgive you, Daddy.” ~Darvin Meas 6th grade student

PENCIL LIFE I am everywhere in a room, I am used every day, I get sharpened, broke and become dull, When I become dull I am forgotten, I say “sharpen me” but they don‟t hear, I am a pencil. I die out if sharpen too much, I get replaced a lot, I meet new people every day, I get left behind in a pouch, I sit with old erasers and broken pencils, I want to be sharpen. I get sharpen a lot, I write what you think, I go with you everywhere in school, I travel place to place, person to person, Till one day I am a piece of metal, The I get picked up and taken to a dump and made into a new pencil ~Matthew Robinson 6th grade student

Sadness If sadness was a color It would be blue As blue as an ocean If sadness was a taste It would be just like water If sadness was a feeling It would be as cold as an ice cube If sadness was a smell It would be as terrible as polluted air If sadness was a sound It would sound as loud as a baby‟s cry ~Peyton Loesch 6th grade student 67

Art Credit: Kylie Burkett 7th grade student

“A Letter of the Past” by Eileen Small Caitlin Arquines‟ grandmother Hi Lynette: Per your request to the remembrance of my Aunt Myrtle: I searched my head and do remember instance but not many words. Such as, coming home from church one day after a bit of a spat with Aunt Myrtle earlier and upon entering the house, I saw my suitcase at the door. I thought she was sending me home, but instead she sent me on a retreat in Danville. I believe she and your parents moved to California in 1955, with the miles between us and my age I‟m lost in time warp. But I did write something; you can use it or not, my memories are as followed: They‟re grown old now. Their hair thins white, their walk a little slower, their ailments more pronounced. Yet there is about them an aura of which majesty that to be in their presence is to be honored with life at its noblest. They shared life with knickers, the coal man, Saturday night baths, and one bedroom filled with brothers or sisters. Streetcars were for hopping onto, Latin for memorizing and Babe Ruth for idolizing. They were teenagers when Al Capone called Chicago his home and my grandfather called his brew in the bathtub, “A bit of heaven.” They charlestoned their way through the roaring twenties and swayed to the big band sounds that filled the Aragon and Trianon ball rooms. The Great Depression came along and so did shoes with cardboard inserts, bread lines, unemployment and lessons of thrift and sacrifice that stayed with them all through life. When wedding bells rang, most of them didn‟t leave the old neighborhoods, choosing instead to set-up house at Ma‟s. Then December 7, 1941 changed all that and suddenly young men and women who had never been past the Indiana border found themselves going to places with strange names like Guadalcanal and Iwo Jima. They had played together in neighborhood parks, threw horseshoes, pinched pennies on corner lots, and now they fought and died together in cities of Europe and the islands of Asia. When the war ended, they picked up the pieces of their lives and began anew, pursuing jobs and educations that had been put on hold. They wanted a better place for their families, and they strived to make it happen. Their goal a home with their own backyards, college educations, weddings with all the elegance Dad could afford, not the simple Army/Navy uniform and twopiece suit he and his bride had worn. Their words honest in their dealings, gracious in manner, charitable towards all. Their lives are the generation, and life at its noblest. They were the storytellers in our life and now they pass the storytelling down to us to continue the pages and someday we, like them will pass it down to our children. Through them, as through us, as throughout parents‟ generation, we are remembered as life goes on. There‟s a little bit of heaven and stardust in our eye, the tears that roll down our cheeks are of thanks of who are and not sorrow or goodbyes. May the sound of happy music and the lilt of Irish laughter fill our hearts with gladness that stays forever after. 68 Love Always, Eileen

Father to Son I know you don‟t want to hear this, but I must tell you sooner or later. Life isn‟t as easy as it seems. It is like a beaten down road. It has many problems with it, and it isn‟t perfect. You have to keep going forward to your destination. You might fall, you might trip, but you have to keep going. There are many cracks and rocks to it, and that is your challenge. You have to get past those imperfections in the road. You can‟t stop because you will never get to your destination. Whatever it is. ~Steve Volling 6th grade student -My WindowRain on the windows. racing as streams. So beautifully they trickle down to the bottom of the window sill.

Father to Son Son, life is hard. Life, you see, is like a road. There are bumps. There are gas stations. And, well, there are dead ends.

“The Desk” by Ryan Yaeger 6th grade student It was a normal day at school. We were writing a report when we heard the security alarm. Then someone came in and picked up a desk. “You will all come silently if you want to make it out of here unharmed!” We were about to stand up and the man‟s body went rigid and fell to the ground unconscious. Someone had hit him on the head. “Chuck Norris!” I exclaimed. “That‟s right, Kid.” Chuck said, “Now I‟m going to take him to the police.” “Yay!” we all cheered.

The bumps are like bad choices— they slow you down and get in your way. The gas stations are places to refuel and start again. The dead ends are places that you don‟t know where to go and they may cause you to lose your way. Son, there will be bumps and dead ends on life‟s road. But don‟t let that stop you from refueling and moving forward. ~Jacob Geraci 6th grade student

Pitter-pattering of my dogs paws Dragging and scratching the pavement Wisps of blonde streaming Like a shredded flag fluttering around my face Cold rushes into my ears Fills out my blue hood Lights stretching towards the onyx sky Burn like fifty suns rising up from a sea of darkness Shadows beside us like imaginary friends Whispering sweet words when we are near a sun And disappearing in fright When we plunge into the rushing blackness Surrounding everything else Bare branches glisten wetly Touched by sea nymphs Night hugs me The broken pearl watches us ~Maggie Hackett Mrs. Hackett‟s daughter

Splash and spur. They disappear. To be reborn in the clouds above, as tears once again to fall. -Garrett Bernhagen Former JFK student „09

The Touch of Night

Art Credit: Kyle Cook 8th grade student

Art Credit: Scott Smith 8th grade student

Hush Found Poem

I’m Afraid to Die Will I make it to the afterlife? Do you think I have a soul, Beautiful heaven?

It is dark. The air smells of snow Daddy turns the heat on, Full blast. I shiver. Daddy‟s car moves slowly through our

Will I be a different person? Heaven should be the best. Will I make it to the afterlife?

neighborhood. People SMILE and W A V E I am Toswiah Green That‟s a fact.

I think as hard as I can. My brain hurts from thinking. Will I make it to the afterlife?

~Ms. Davoren 8th grade teacher

Will I ever see God? Should I be afraid, beautiful heaven?

Video Games Games, Some good, Some are really bad, Like racing games, Shooting games too, You could get the games at WalMart, Target, And GameStop too, There is call of duty, Halo, Need for speed, Uncharted 1, And 2, Sonic unleashed, Those are some, Time to have fun ~Israel Castillo 6th grade student

Death should be a soothing place. I lay in my bed wondering. The nice beautiful heaven.

People Some big, some round People are all around. People skinny people small people growing small People helping grow a seed helping someone in need. ~Gianni Basile 6th grade student 70

Can I be afraid? Will I see my friends? Will I make it to the afterlife: the nice beautiful heaven. ~Christopher Biggs 6th grade student

“With each abused moment, we become orphans of the living; and once a moment has passed, it‟s gone forever.” ~Eileen Small Caitlin Arquines‟ grandmother

Light Notice me. Look at me. Thank me, at least! I provide vision and even some hear. You don‟t think about me even though I provide you light. What is wrong with you? Can‟t you see me? You should! Without me you won‟t be able to see a thing. Fine then, turn me off! On Off On Off Everyday. I was here before you… I am here now… I‟ll be here long after you‟re gone… ...farewell for now.

Here I Am Here I Am Numb But that‟s okay I have a smile on That‟s all they need to see

Here I am Crying But they don‟t care I said its fine That‟s proof enough

Here I am Hurt But no one notices I got up again

Here I am Numb, crying, and hurt But it‟s not okay I‟m alone And letting it show

~Jordan Miller 6th grade student

~Lamech Young 6th grade student Photo Credit: Mrs. Hebreard Technology Specialist

Son let me tell you Life for me ain‟t been no easy sailing It‟s got some waves, And some ship repairs, And boards missin here and there, Places where the water comes inWet. But all this time, I‟ve been sailing through it all, Climin it, And reachin, And fallin again, Some time at night in the dark, In the cold, But I‟m still going. And son you better keep going, With me or not. ~Rachel Gilbert 6th grade student

I live in a doorway Between two rooms. I hear A class talking, bell ringing, and teacher Talking about homework. Cafeteria filled with Students talking, yelling, and also screaming. I can hear the squeaking noise of The marker. I peek In the other room. I hear steaming noise Of cooking, man making bacon and eggs For breakfast. I hear the yell, “Breakfast is ready!” I hear mom telling me To call the brothers and sisters. I feel good to be home.

~Ron Ecarma 6th grade student

Art Credit: Edmond Brooks 8th grade student

Baseball Bat

The Bird’s Angel

Baseball is so fun— it completes my summers. When I hit a far one, it makes me feel good.

I used to be a free bird, with the wing on my wings. I could soar high above and fly away, away from this awful place. Until my wings were clipped, And I was caged.

My bat is so powerful— it attracts attention.

In that cage how I fought, oh how I cried. All of those faces, smug, ugly faces laughing at me. Laughing at my struggle, My struggle to be free. To be free, to see my Angel. Protected from the world in strong arms. Away from those beautiful eyes, Trapped, kept from the Angel, Whose wings taught me to fly. Now I sit here, droning a siren call, Mourning for the loss of my Angel. Grief for shelter, my only safety. That fallen Angel whose name will forever be etched onto the fragments of my heart. He will sit and wait patiently, Until I come flying home to him. ~Abi Crowne 8th grade student

The May‟s House

When it breaks, I‟ll sell it. And I‟ll get another great bat. I hit so much that I actually get Khaalises each day.

My family is like a Christmas tree. ~Khaalis Alexander My dad is the big strong trunk holding us into 6th grade student place because he is the one who always makes sure we are doing the right thing. My mom is the pine needle always making sure we‟re covered and warm enough. My brother is a homemade ornament that my mom has made in the past years because he is always doing something creative and interesting. My grandpa is the angel on top because he is the one who shines in the family because he has done so much for us in the past years. My grandma is a colorful bell on the tree because she is the one who brings all of the music and spirit into out home. I am the velvet rug under the tree trying to hold everything together because sometimes it can get a little bit crazy at Christmas time! -Lexi May 7th grade student

72 Art Credit: Areona Hinkle 6th grade student

They say you‟re different. They say you‟re not “normal,” Excuse me, what is “normal?” I‟m different from her, she‟s different from him— How are we “normal” when we are so different? I guess in life no one is “normal.” Being different is what makes us who we are. Being different is the “normal” in life— Different is good. ~Kylie Burkett 7th grade student

“What My Father Means to Me” by Danielle Hubbard 6th grade student To me, my father is priceless. He buys me the things I want and lets me do the things I want to do; however, I always have to remember that there is a limit that I cannot pass. I do not get a ton from him but I do get a lot. He does not spoil my brother, sister, or me. He tries his best to keep us happy as ever. He teaches us to stay athletic, healthy, and he wants us to have a great education. I told him that when I grow up I either want to get a scholarship in softball or to study to be an orthodontist. He has my back 100%. I’m very grateful to have a father like him. He also said that he would do anything to watch me from up and see what I do when I am older. I feel great knowing that he is sticking up for what I think I should become. I brought home the paper to join wrestling hoping my dad would sign it and said I could do it. I even asked my brother if he thought Dad would let me. My brother said that he would sign it because my brother is also wrestling for the school. When my dad got home from work that night, I asked him to read the paper but not say anything aloud. So that’s what he did. The first thing he asked me was, “Do you want to be in Student Council?” I said, “No.” He asked, “Wrestling?” Then I said “Yes!” He said, “I know that you are strong and I know that with a little help you will do great at it!” I was filled with joy and happiness and I will never forget that be let me wrestle and will support anything that I want to do in life.

I live in a doorway between two rooms. I hear gossip about who is dating who. Laughter, and a kid being punched, break-ups, screaming, detentions being passed out. I always wonder if that would ever happen to me. Art Credit: Christopher Kovac 7th grade student

I peek into the other room and what do I see? Kisses, laughter, prayer, and hymns being sung. I can smell that pork cooking in the oven and old stories being told about my grandma.

I live on a court outside Hearing my family on one side I hear my teammates The sound of my mom telling me to do my homework And the sound of my coach telling me to shoot Feeling my pencil moving on the paper Feeling proud for making the winning shot Ipeekin my folders for examples I look over and see a trophy And a picture of my team has been taken.

~Esther Angomas 6th grade student

-Terrell Evans 6th grade student 73

When a Bulldozer Meets a Flame I write— my pencil moving across the paper like a flame burning down a lifeless building— like a bulldozer plowing down a busy road. But then my pencil stops— the flames die out, the bulldozer breaks down, and the room is a quiet as an empty street. I sit there staring at the little words on my paper. Thinking… Thinking… Out of nowhere, the fire starts to burn again— the bulldozer revs up as it gains power. So I write like a flame burning down a lifeless building— like a bulldozer plowing down a busy road. -Kennedy Collins 6th grade student

Mother’s Miracle with Her Son Pay attention son. My days were hard to reach— there was dirt everywhere and no clothes to share— no games—just pain and no place to hide. Nothing else to do— if I could, I’ll fight. My days were hard to reach. But then a ray of miracle chant a new voice is speaking in my hand. Now a boat is ready to set sail. Don’t fall down—you’re journey will fail. England, Iceland—get ready to pass. Trust me—it’s not an easy task. Now we are on an island as we say—America Now my son, don’t give up. Never quit. Never stop. Keep going on. One step for man, another for mankind. Now remember, my days were hard to reach.

Photo Credit: Mrs. Gruca 6th grade teacher

~Darvin Meas 6th grade student

I am from babysitting

From the “never give up”

From snuggle and Starbucks

And “try your best”

I am from the tan house

I‟m from stay with your family.

Unique, small, spotless kitchen

I‟m from skirt steak and pizza

I am from the roses,

From the homework helping from my sister

The tall bushes,

And the humorous of my brothers.

That always rustles with the wind. I babysit kids whenever they need me to watch any. I watch them because it shows I‟m from corn mazes every year responsibility, caring, and leadership to my And decorating Christmas trees, after thanksgiving parents. It leads me to help out and tons of opportunities to choose from. From Sara and Cameron ~Cara Bassett 6th grade student

I‟m from the respectful to people And the explaining everything

“Journey from Ireland” by Stephanie Karas 6th grade student It was 6:00 in the morning when I opened my eyes and yawned sleepily. When a person is on a boat, he or she may notice that the sun comes through the windows, be woken up to the smell of salt water and the sound of waves crashing against the boat. We had only been out for a week. I got dressed lazily and went out on to the dock. There I saw my two friends, Sam and John. “How long do you think it will be until we find new land?” says Sam. “At least a few months.”I reply. “What about you, Sam?” “I agree with Patrick.” Then we were silent peacefully listening to the waves. “Do you think the new land will be better than Ireland?” inquired Sam. “I hope so” said John. It‟s not that Ireland was bad, but I don‟t to stay there my whole life.” I said. I looked down and watched the fish swim around in the sea while Sam and John talked about something. I don‟t think in this past week that I‟ve really stopped to watch the fishes. I really wish I had. I know it doesn‟t sound interesting, but it‟s kind of nice to watch all different types of fish swim all around. I was so caught up in watching the fish, I lost track of time. “PATRICK‟!!! screamed John. “What‟s the matter with you”? You‟ve been staring into the ocean for 20 minutes!” “Yeah, and for ten of those minutes we were calling you! yelled Sam. Great now they think I’m crazy. Well this is a great way to start off a day. Go make yourself look like an idiot in front of your friends and make them get ticked off at you. That’s just great. When did I start looking at those fish anyway? Why did I start is a better question. “PATRICK!!!!” screamed Sam. Just like last time I did a major jump. “Don‟t do that! I‟ll fall of the dock.” “Whatever, I‟m starving, Can we go get something to eat now?” asks Sam. “Fine” I say. John Sam and I are making our way to the dining room. John and Sam our having a conversation meanwhile, I‟m just walking at a slow pace beside them. Since we‟re walking slowly and the dining room is still all the way on the other side of the ship. So I‟m trying to think of something to do. I know I can‟t watch the fish. We all know what happened last time, so we don‟t need to do it again. I was about to join in on the conversation when we arrived to the dining hall. Our dining hall isn‟t anything fancy, but I guess it‟s all we need. There‟s a bunch of tables and chairs. We use paper plates and plastic silverware. There‟s a big table where all the food is. The food is relativity good. Since we wake up so early, we‟re usually the first ones there. We always can smell the scent of whatever their serving. As we sat down with our food I glanced at my watch. 7:15! Oh my stars! “What‟s wrong Patrick?” asked John. I must have had a surprised expression on my face. “Nothing, just can‟t believe how fast time went by.” “Well Patrick we were talking on the dock for 15 minutes, you were daydreaming into the sea for 20 minutes, and we walked over here in about a half and hour” said Sam. “Yeah, and took us 10 minutes to get our food.” said John. “Okay, I was not daydreaming into the sea.” “Then what were you doing” asked Sam. I couldn‟t think of a good way to answer that. “Exactly” said Sam victoriously. We sat and ate in silence the rest of the time. I told them that that I‟d meet them later as I went to do my work. I had to mop the decks. I went to the supply closet to get the mop and bucket. Then I saw a new guy, someone that I definitely hadn‟t seen before. But before I could talk to him he turned the corner. As I mopped so many questions went through my head. I mopped the whole ship, which takes an hour or two, then got lunch. I didn‟t see John or Sam. After that, I decided to take a nap. I don‟t know how, but when I woke up it was 3:10! I was supposed to meet John and Sam 10 minutes ago! I ran outside but I didn‟t see them. But I did see that new guy. I hurried over to talk to him. “Hi” I said. “Hi” he said. Then it was silence. “So, when did you get here, I mean on the boat?” “I‟ve been here for a week, just like everyone else.” “Well I haven‟t seen you” “I usually stay on the other side of the boat.” “Oh” “Well I have to go bye.” “Wait; want to eat breakfast with me and my friends tomorrow?” “Okay” Later that day I saw Sam. I called him, but he just kept walking. I guess their mad at me because they think I blew them off. I‟ll settle that with John after I eat dinner. John will listen because he‟s not as stubborn as Sam. I ate dinner alone again, and then I headed to John‟s room. I knocked and waited for the door to remain shut or it open a little and then slam in my face. But John surprisingly let me in. “You‟re about 4 hours late he said coldly. John and Sam gets mad easily. “I didn‟t blow you off, I fell asleep and when I went outside you weren‟t out there. I guess you guys didn‟t wait long. But I met this guy I can‟t remember his name, but you don‟t mind if he eats breakfast with us tomorrow do you?” I asked him so nicely he should say yes. But he‟ll probably have to talk to Sam. “Okay, Bye!” I said not waiting for an answer because of his reaction. That night I lay there thinking about the new guy I met. But before I could really think about it, I fell asleep. I guess that‟s what I get for waking up so early. I got dressed in a hurry, eager to see that guy again. The time didn‟t occur to me but I was lucky. I saw him standing where he was the day before. I met him and then we made our way to the dining hall. “What‟s your name?” I asked. “Joe” he said. The meal went well. John somehow talked Sam into this. I don‟t know how though. I decided to go pay the captain a visit. As I walked over to the front of the boat I could see he was sitting on the deck. I never felt the boat stop moving. I saw the map sitting on the table. “Hi, what are you doing?” “Just relaxing.” We had a short conversation but then I felt uneasy. I realized that what was a small breeze was becoming a big wind. The map wasn‟t protected by anything. “Grab the map!!!” I shouted. But it was too late. I watched hopelessly as the captain grabbed air. The map flew away with the wind. We were out in the middle of the ocean with no map, or a clue what to do or where to go. “Please tell me we had a backup map.” I said. “Not that I know about” he said. “I‟ll look around to see if there‟s an extra map.” It wasn‟t likely for there to be an extra map, but me still had to try right!? I searched his desk, the cabinets but I still came out with nothing. I went over by the captain‟s bed and sat glumly. But then I saw something hidden in the captains traveling box. I walked over and unrolled the paper to see a copy of the map. I guess the captain forgot about that map. Well, I guess we were getting lucky because when I looked at the map we were nearing land! We had been on the boat about a month but still this was pretty quick for boat to a whole new continent. I ran to tell the captain that he had another map and that he had made a mistake but I guess that he went to look for a map too because he wasn‟t there. But I saw him later after dinner so that‟s when I gave him the map. I guess he was relieved, because when I first saw him, he looked worried. That night I slept uneasily that night. I tried to sleep but I guess like the whole map thing had shaken me up pretty good. I tossed and turned for what seemed like hours. At some point I fell asleep when I woke up it was 8:00. I don‟t know why or how I slept through the noise that usually woke me up. I felt like I‟d been in a coma for years. I walked to the dining hall. I didn‟t see anyone there. I ate in silence, and then went for a walk. I didn‟t see anyone. I tried to remember if I forgot anything. Then I heard screams of joy. I raced to the other side of the boat remembering what I‟d forgotten. I saw what everyone saw and I ran to John, Sam and Joe and saw what they saw too. 75 I quickly remembered to get my fishing pole. I headed to climb in my car along with The land I saw last night on the map. We were staring at the new land. As we got off the ship, John and Sam. We headed toward Ells Island. I got in line and waited and waited and waited. Finally, it was my turn. I walked off of the ship with a smile on my face.

Art Credit: Karson Eggert Kailee Eggert‟s brother

A Better Someday A soul is replaced by a jar of unshed tears. A mind is crammed with secrets, lies, and fears. Dead leaves scrappy and swirl where butterflies used to dance and twirl but the sense of running free in the Lord’s beautiful creation give one hope that again—someday we’ll feel that warm and loving sensation.

Stand and Choose I stand I see but I can‟t pick a side. Standing in that line— choosing between good and bad. The bad side is so tempting— it seems so right, so fun. But it‟s not. I have to do what‟s right— holding my head up high. I walk over to that side— the good side.

They say you cannot buy happiness but we can give our money back and call me optimistic, for I know I am, but I believe we still have a chance to regrow the trees and watch birds dance and feel the butterflies once again and God will forgive our sins. A better “someday” will, someday, begin.

~Karina Arias 6th grade student

~Caitlin Arquines 6th grade student 76

Blizzard I write or at least I think. All I see is a snowstorm on paper. I try my hardest no matter what I do— it’s a snow day on paper. I don’t know how I got an A in LA. All of my writing is a blizzard day. I want to do good. I try and listen. But all I write is snow. I don’t know how others do it— they do it so good. They might close the school because of the storm on my paper. -Andrew Collins 6th grade student

If happy was a color

Mirror

It would be sky blue

I look into my mirror and my reflection stares back but it‟s not me That girl— she‟s not me.

As bright as the sun If it would be a taste it would be like blueberry pancakes If it was a feeling it would be like winning If happiness was a smell it would be like cinnamon candles If it was a noise it would sound like the Bears winning the Superbowl. ~Terrell Evans 6th grade student

“School Pride” Photo Credit: Bonnie Lancaster Hannah Lancaster’s mother

Everything about her is happy but I‟m not. I know I‟m not. It‟s not fair that she‟s so happy. Why can‟t I feel as happy as she looks? Her smile— her eyes— all of it‟s happy but I‟m not. I can‟t stand it. I can‟t stand her. I send my fist through the glass and she shatters. She‟s gone— that happy girl is gone. ~Jordan Miller 6th grade student

Follow your Heart Don’t listen to your brain; follow your heart. Sometimes life gives you lemons, but you want oranges. Sometimes you have to listen to your heart. If you gotta make a choice between one and the other, make sure your heart has a say in the answer. Don’t listen to your brain; follow your heart. If you wanna go to college or live in a dump, sometimes you gotta listen to your heart. If something goes wrong and you can’t fix it, Move on—Move on Don’t listen to your brain; follow your heart.

Yelling and screaming is all that you hear Don’t worry, it gets better. Sometimes you have to listen to your heart. ~Melanee Castillo 6th grade student

Shrinky Dink Credit: Mrs. Litkenhus 8th grade teacher

I live in a doorway between two rooms. I hear my mom and dad speaking to me in Spanish helping me with work and saying “Muy bien” when I do something right. It makes me feel good inside.

Villains Villain h Untold ave a back sto s st ry, They al ories, l had a pu They ar e miss rpose, le Betraye ad, d Castro and tortured , hu Had a p dam osem urpose , They w I open my eyes wide ere for g iv A en now ll they w and look in the other room. To be k anted was so but then betra My friends are telling jokes no methin yed, g, Some v wn for, and making me laugh. illains w With the snap of my fingers, anted t But we re o be frie they turn their backs and talk nds, And lat miss lead, er betr about me in a yed, And the n bad ways. To do s gave a purpos tuff. e, That‟s life. Sometimes I wish I didn‟t have to go in.

Quilt Credit: Mrs. Erman 6th grade teacher

Photo Credit: Marc Pusateri Father of Aly Pusateri Design Credit: Aly Pusateri 6th grade student

~Lucas Weir 6th grade student

~Matth ew 6th gra Robinson de stud ent

Where I’m from

I am from baseball From baseball bats and Nike shoes I am from the light gray house Blue shutters, With a baseball dent in the front I am from the maple tree that roots stick out from the ground The lilac bushes That is by our window That smells whenever we go near it I am from cutting down the Christmas tree And going for brunch and a movie on Christmas Eve From Scott and Christine I am from traveling from place to place And the movie watching From “Never give up” And “Try your best” I am from “Be respectful” And “Don‟t do bad things it with lead you to a bad life” I‟m from Czechoslovakian immigrants Breaded chicken and Dumplings From the police officer who catches everyone The brother who annoys me but loves me Growing up and watching the great football teams From Bears to Saints From the opening of the gates My brother made sure I liked the Bears I‟m the teams from the past, Present, And creating a new team for the future.

Lonely Mask Here I am along the wall, just waiting to be set free and fall. Whatever my plan will be is a huge task, but I am only a lonely mask. I have beautiful colors upon my face. I have ribbons attached to my ears like a flag in a race. I always ask what is the point of me, I am just a lonely mask. Just look at my eyes, I can’t even cry. I always wondered why. I am only a wooden mask. I am a lonely mask. Look at my mouth, I can’t cough, I try to smile but it takes awhile. I am a lonely mask. One day come something new. I always thought I was an outcast. There was a whole cast of masks upon the ceiling. Now, I am a happy mask -Jessica DiGrazia 6th grade student

-Timothy Mayerhofer 6th grade student “Old Dogs and Children” by Tim Jordan Harris Jordan‟s father

Old Dogs and Children: Why is it that these two topics always seem to bring out melancholy thoughts when put into the same sentence? Perhaps it is because each reflects the uncertainty of our lives, and in the same breath the promise that this life holds. Old Dogs: Despite all of the sometimes annoying things that they do, we love them like they are our children. Loyal to a fault, forgiveness automatic, just wanting to be loved and appreciated as "Good Dog." Children: Despite all of the sometimes annoying things that they do, the questionable decisions that they make, we love them beyond description. Loyalty to the parents exists on a sliding scale, we hope for forgiveness when they get old enough to recognize that we REALLY did want the best for them, and always needing to be loved (even if they say "Leave Me Alone"). Old Dogs: They reach the point where the spring is gone from their step. Their muzzle and face get that lynx-like frosting that is the badge of honor that Old Dogs wear with such dignity. They are content to lay in the middle of the room and watch as you walk by... but still amaze us with an occasional bust of enraged squirrel-sighting energy that makes us laugh. And cry -for we know it's not much longer they'll be able to do that. Children. We reach the where the spring is gone from our 79 step. Our faces get those characteristic wrinkles, and our hair takes on the color of a stormy Everest. We are content to just sit by, watching while the world with our children in it, goes on around us. Yet still we amaze them with an occasional outburst of humor, clarity, and energy that make them laugh. And on the inside, cry, knowing that it won't be much longer that we'll be able to do that.

Don‟t Hate— Appreciate My Ode to Reading Our adventure begun at a very young age… I read through many… fiction,

“T ing he tim on e w ins e scary, ~E tal hav ile lm e h e en Ca n S mystery, ts. ere i itli ” s li n A mall ke myths, rqu be ine s‟ g even poetry. ran dm Every day I ran up to my room oth er and started reading. non-fiction,

I never put you down— never wanting to leave you. Every day it is just you and me— not stopping until the end.

You always want to get your own way I always wanted to say— but didn‟t say because I am just that nice. You always liked to hide like mice— really, I didn‟t try to hurt you. After the things you did, I start to wish that I did— but now that you‟re gone— Thank God… I‟ll never forget the things you liked to do— I‟ve always kind of hated you. Now you‟re out of my life— I just can‟t forgive you because of the things you do. It will all just start again— I feel bad for others because you‟ll just break their hearts. There‟s nothing I can do— I will always hate you.

I stop when told to—never by choice.

-Victor Flores 6th grade student

Each day I learn something new from you. You inspire me. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. -Emilio Bernal 6th grade student

The Story of a Book Life is like a book— you never know what's going to happen. Everything is a mystery. Each even in your life is a chapter— Each day is a page, each sentence is a moment, each letter, a second. No matter how bag things get you have to keep going. It has a beginning and an end— the end is always beautiful.

Art Credit: Maritza Dominguez 7th grade student

Some things are sad and some things are annoying but when you think about it in the end, it all makes sense. 80

~Stephanie Karas 6th grade student

“A Sad Goodbye” by Lucas Thomas 6th grade student

A little girl was watching “Spongebob” in the living room as her mother was cooking dinner. Their house rested in a very foresty area in California with lots of trees. Mom said, “Allyssa, come into the kitchen. It‟s time to eat.” Allyssa said, “Okay mommy.” As Allyssa walked into the kitchen, she forgot to turn off the television set. While Allyssa started to eat, her mom smelled smoke. “Allyssa, get out of the house!” “Okay!” Allyssa said. She ran out of the backdoor. Mom went downstairs to get the fire extinguisher but as she was coming back up the stairs, she heard a huge explosion and the house burst into flames. Allyssa cried as she watched for her mother to come out of the back door but it never happened. Running from next door, a neighbor hugged Allyssa. “Why are you out here alone?” her neighbor asked. “My mom is inside. The TV started smoking.” “Let me call 9-1-1.” She took her cell phone from her pocket and dialed the numbers. Just as she was telling the police to send a fire truck, there was a loud boom inside of the house. The house was collapsing on itself. There was a loud scream from within the house. “What happened to my mommy?” Allyssa looked at her neighbor with tears in her eyes. The neighbor didn‟t say anything because she didn‟t know how to say it. Allyssa was only four years old. She replied, “I don‟t know but everything will be okay.” Allyssa‟s family were good friends with their neighbors so she called Allyssa‟s dad at work. He broke down crying. He rushed home crying the whole way. When he got there, every cop car was gone but the firemen were still there. He asked one fireman, “Where‟s my wife?” “I‟m sorry to tell you but your wife died when the house collapsed.” The fireman looked down at the ground. Allyssa‟s father broke into tears. He looked up and said, “Where‟s my daughter?” “She is in the fire truck. We can bring you to her.” As he rushed to the truck, he broke into tears because he knew that Allyssa didn‟t know about her mom. When he got to her, he told her about Mom. They cried and hugged each other. Although he knew that they would never fully heal from loosing the heart of their family, he knew that they would always remember the woman in their life.

The World: A Villanelle

Golden Feather

The world is magnificent. It is colorful and bright. It is dangerous in many ways.

One feather left— one that never fell out. Feathers came and went.

One day it might end, people say. The year has gone by quickly. The world is magnificent.

It’s called the golden feather— Nobody touches it ‘cause it is a golden feather.

The world is round and shiny but it brings joy to everybody. It is dangerous in many ways.

It glows in the moonlight and you hear it whispering in your ear. If you look close, you can see it’s golden eye.

There are oceans, museums, and more! The weather changes over time. The world is magnificent. It has nice features. There are also pretty places in the world. It is dangerous in many ways.

One night it doesn’t shine— that means the feather is dead. Across town everyone cries. The golden feather is no more.

There are a lot of things to do. It is very large. The world is magnificent. It is dangerous in many ways. ~McJane Yeboah 6th grade student

~Keri Edgeworth 6th grade student

“The Journey to America” by Anthony Probst 6th grade student “I‟m going to miss him mom.” The little girl cried. “I am too.” said the mom comforting her. “He was a good man.” said the mom comforting her. “Jessica, your grandfather he ……..he immigrated here. I know what you are thinking. What is my dad talking about, right? Well your grandpa… well, not just him, both of your grandparents came here for a better life. That‟s what they got when they came here from Mexico.” said dad. ~~~ “ELEUTERIO IF YOU DON‟T FEED THE CHICKENS IN FIVE MINUTES YOU‟RE IN BIG TROUBLE, MISTER.” said the mom. “Okay, Mom, yeesh sometimes…” he said under his breath. He went outside. The air was hot as usual. The thing about Mexico is the air is mostly hot in the morning and then at night it cools down a little bit; but people are scared at night because of the sound of howling coyotes. After 20 minutes of feeding the chickens, Eleuterio was walking back to his house. His house was just a shack with dirt flooring because his town was poor. He saw a bunch of people talking but he didn‟t pay any attention to them. He should have. Back inside, he went over to his mother to see if she was making breakfast. He didn‟t see the breakfast in the normal spot where it usually was; instead he found his mom on the floor crying. Eleuterio was trying his hardest not to look at his mom when she was crying because he didn‟t like to look at her. It was way too hard for him not to cry when she was. Eleuterio asked why she was crying. She showed him a paper. “This is like the fifth time we moved this month.” stated Eleuterio. The next few weeks were tough; not much to eat, not much sleep, not much of anything. ~~~ “Well we are going to move tomorrow.” announced Mom. “NO! I don‟t want to go, Mom. I‟m tired of moving constantly. I‟m staying right here. I will never move again. I am not going to a new house.” screamed Eleuterio. “Eleuterio I am tired …..” said Mom. “TIRED OF WHAT?” asked Eleuterio. “I‟m tired of you. I am tired of you because all you want to do is complain. When times are rough, you complain.” “Mom, I…… I‟m sorry about everything for whatever I complained about. I don‟t know what is wrong with me.” ~~~ “Dad can we please just skip to the part of when grand pa goes to America?” “Fine.” ~~~ “Well Eleuterio, we have been living here for two years now.” said his wife. “Ruperta, do want to go for a walk and get a couple newspapers to read?” “Sure, Eleterio.” While they walked, they saw a crowd of people talking. “Could it be a better country?” “Man.” “Wow.” “This is amazing.” “Incredible.” Eleuterio walked up to the group. “Hey guys.” “Hey Eleuterio.” “Ruperta come here and look at this!” said Eleuterio. “Wow Eleterio, it‟s so amazing! What is this place called?” “America. I‟ll swim the Rio Grande that will make the trip shorter then I will come back to you one day.” said Eleuterio. “No you will not go. What is wrong with Mexico?” That night Eleterio had snuck five bags of things for his trip. One bag had food, the next bag had clothes, the others had some belongings. That morning he left before Ruperta woke up. He set off on foot. ~~~ Splash! Eleteurio has been swimming for three hours. “I can‟t do this.” Gllllllllllll “I cannot swim good” Ggllllllllllllllllllll. Gllllllllllllllllll blaaa cough cough. He coughed up water and tried to stay afloat. Gotta swim some more. Then Eleuterio heard some familiar noises.Chuga- chuga- choo- choo . Hey I remember those noises it’s a train maybe when I get out of this water I can hitch a ride okay one two three hey I’m on the train that was pretty easy to do man I sure am tired I think I might go to sleep. ~~~ Eleuterio woke up two hours later and in a small town called Aurora. Man oh man this place is awesome maybe I can get some money by getting a job somehow. “Sorry sir I can‟t give you a job you don‟t have a social security card.” A social security card costs me money so maybe I can get some by working a dish washing job. ~~~ 82 A month later Eleuterio had a job and a social security card he also had a house and now he has his wife Ruperta in America. Also now he has 14 kids all together Eleuterio is going to live a good life in America.

Flower Blossom, blossom flower— I need you to blossom for you are my only friend. Please, oh, please blossom. I need you to talk to— share my feelings. I can only pour my heart out to you. Flower, please just blossom for me— you can’t leave me alone. I have waited for you to blossom— flower, you have wasted my life— you have died dear flower. ~Keri Edgeworth 6th grade student The Friendship Within Us The people of Earth The strong friendship within us Surprising us all ~Noorani S. Pirani 8th grade student

My Worlds I live in a doorway between two rooms. The doorway on the right and filled of people who hurt each other and steal instead of asking nicely and hide their faces behind plastic smiles. They try to destroy each other’s feelings but they are really just destroying themselves. It is where the skies are always charcoal filled with clouds of smoke and exhaust and the grass is always a dark drown and the sun never shines. But then the room on the left is filled with people who don’t judge each other by the color of their skin or what they look like—and everyone is loved. The room is quiet and peaceful. Everyone had a home and family and nobody is left out and nobody is left out and nobody is the same. Everyone is all unique in their own way. This is where we can all be ourselves. It’s where the sky is sapphire and the grass is an emerald color. And the sun is topaz. And our hearts are a deep shade of love. ~Jonathan Hernandez 6th grade student

“Things to Think About” by Eileen Small Caitlin Arquines‟ grandmother I‟ve never been more aware of the tick-tock ticking of the clock than I have been in the last few weeks. It brings to mind, how little time we really have, and how much we waste on concerns; we flatter ourselves into believing they are critical , but which really are frivolous. We spend too much time making money instead of making friends; buying stuff instead of building relationships, talking instead of listening. We push people away instead of pulling them near. We constantly look ahead instead of looking around. We seek the smell of success rather than the scent of roses. We commit ourselves to so much outside activity that we have nothing left for what‟s inside of us. We meet to plan meetings to plan planning meetings. In essence, we‟ve added years to life, but not life to years. How often have we heard, “Time wasted is time lost?” Every act we do, can be a prayer; every story we share can be a memory; every time we listen, can be a learning experience; every time we take time to spend with members in 83 our family, can bring us closer. So clocking in on life today will bring memories and smiles tomorrow.

“Dare to Dream” by Gabby Hoffman 6th grade student

“Jamie... Jamie...” I called as I wandered through the forest. I was getting scared. I couldn‟t find Jamie anywhere. It‟s not like she ran away—she was just with me. I just turned around and she wasn‟t there. The forest wasn‟t like any forest I‟ve seen. It had tall trees that looked like they had faces and the sky around it was covered in stars. I sat down by a tree where a little bird was sitting. I said to the bird, “If only you could talk…” And I swear, it was he strangest thing—the bird spoke. “Dare—dare to dream.” he said. As I looked over the at the bird, he gave me a look—a look that meant you know what I mean. I knew this had to be a dream. But maybe I was wrong. I couldn‟t tell at that precise moment. After almost screaming cause the bird talked, I looked up at the sky and the stars. Oh, the stars, they were twinkling at me. As I looked around at the sky, I saw something—a face. Jamie! “Hello Emma. You‟re probably wondering where I went. But it‟s safe. You stay where you are. There is something I have to tell you: dare to dream,” she said fiercely. “Huh? Why is everyone telling me to dare to dream?” I exclaimed loudly. “Emma, look at the sky. There‟s so many stars and you can see faces on the trees and animals talk. This right here is your dream,” she said calmly. As her eyes twinkled in the sky, I asked her curiously, “Okay, but where does the „dare‟ come into this?” “That‟s up to you to figure out, Emma.” “But I don‟t—” It was too late. Her face disappeared into the night sky. I sat back down by the bird and looked at the tree. “Hey, can you help me figure out what „dare to dream‟ means?” “Why honey, that‟s up to you to figure out.” He said earnestly. “But that doesn‟t help.” I said. “Well, I‟m not gonna give you the answer but to me, dare to dream means dream it anyways. Don‟t ever not dream because you can‟t do it. DREAM.” He said. Then he was gone. I sat there figuring out what he said but then— “Emma. Emma! Wake up. You fell asleep in class, Sweetie.” Mrs. Smith said. “Oh, I‟m sorry.” I said smiling. “I‟m guessing you had a nice dream?” she asked. “Yes, I did/ I learned something.” I said excitedly. “And what would that be—?” “DARE TO DREAM!” If sadness had a color It would be blue As blue as a night time lake Nature If sadness had a taste The river singing. It would be like sour berries The birds chirping. If sadness was a feeling It would be as soft as a blanket The trees echoing sound. If sadness was a smell The sun making it louder. It would be moist as wet frost The leaves dancing. If sadness was a sound The animals prancing. It would be as soft as a mouse running. The rocks vibrating with sound. The song of the forest is all around. ~Gretchen Freebern 6th grade student

~Brett Nessinger 6th grade student

Photo Credit: Kailee Eggert 6th grade student

My Bridge

I‟m on a bridge Between two times The sound of myself as a baby laughing It rings in my ear Though it comes from behind me I look forward and see myself, An older version of myself On the other side of the bridge She wears black And rock music blares from behind her Louder than it should be She suddenly looks at me With unfamiliar and tear filled eyes As if longing to be back here On my bridge ~Jordan Miller 6th grade student

I‟m trying I‟m trying I get good grades But not in the right subjects I‟m wishing I hug you whenever I can But hugs show weakness I‟m still not good enough Your expectations require more But I‟m still not delivering.

Dark and Light Dark and light— always fight because they are two different things. One is good. Other is bad. Light is peace. Dark is war. Dark is always knocking on our door. Light knows right from wrong. Dark will lost long unless we stop war. - Victor Flores 6th grade student

~Jordan Miller 6th grade student

Whe

n the

Hear tB

reaks

Whe n you r hea rt bre I bre aks ak. Whe n it c racks I hur t. Whe n I‟m you a re in so am pain I. We a re sa d. Don‟ t let t he he art b reak. - Nic ole 6th g Shanley rade stude nt

Photo Credit: Kailee Eggert 6th grade student

Glass Stairway Well, I’ll tell you. Life isn’t what it used to be. Life is like a glass stairway. Last year, it totally shattered— but now the year is new and we have a lot to look forward to. ~Luke Phillips 6th grade student

I hear the sounds of rain, splashing on the ground, the snow falling silently. I hear the leaves crunching on the ground. I hear the sprinklers running in the summer. I hear the flowers start to bloom. I hear the birds beginning to chirp, the ducks start to quack. I hear the wind hitting the windows during a storm. The sounds calling—asking for their job to be done. 86

~Lexi May 7th grade student

I Appreciate It Through the tears you were here. It was me you did not fear. and I appreciate it. ~Areona Hinkle 6th grade student

Son I have to tell you Life isn‟t a golden road My road has bumps Pot holes And cracks A long rocky road But all the time I was driving on Driving on And taking turns And sometimes going through a tunnel Where there is not a lot of light So don‟t make a u-turn Don‟t stop your car Because you think it‟s hard Don‟t go in reverse now Because I am still driving I am still driving And life isn‟t a golden road

I live in a door way between two rooms. I hear the loud screams of other children. I taste the sweat running down my face. I see my belt color and how proud I am to have it. I touch the trophy that I just won. I smell the sweaty stink of the pads that we wear to protect ourselves. I peek into the other room and see a big “A” on the homework that I got handed back. I feel the pencil in my hands. I hear the small whispers of people behind me. I taste the pizza I had for lunch. ~Will Roemer 6th grade student

-Brett Nessinger 6th grade student Dictionary As I walk Through the Classroom I see the Red sparkly Dictionary Waiting Just waiting For someone To read their Boring complicating Words where they have 7 different Competitive Definitions The words you cant Understand them But as I pick It up Intimidated Out of my Mind The words speak to Me They’re saying What the mean I feel Important I feel like I know the words VICTORIOUS Vincent Tarello 6th grade student

Art Credit: Jenny Gonzalez 6th grade student

I live in a doorway Between two rooms, I hear laughter, And talking, Kids running around screaming, Baby crying wanting to be taken out of the car seat, People snacking before dinner, The smell of food cooking fills the house, You could taste the food waiting for you. I peek In the other room were it‟s quiet and oh so still, All the toys remain motionless, Everyone still fast asleep in their rooms, Until the baby wakes up crying, The world starts again, A new day, Full of laughter to come, And spending time with others. ~Emily Felbinger 6th grade student 87

Art Credit: Michael Mendez 8th grade student

“Gummy Bears” by Christopher Biggs 6th grade student Summer

The bell rings and through the doors we move. No more tests of books—nothing more to prove. Sleeping in late—no more getting up early. Summer is here finally—no more feeling surly. Long days and hot night—baseball and friends. Feels like summer is never going to end! ~Jeff Geraci Jacob Geraci’s father 88

There are some gummy bears. They are all sorts of colors. But there is only one green one. The green gummy bear reminds me of my mom. It represents her because she is different than anyone in the neighborhood. She is the green one because she is Mexican and she can’t speak English “perfectly.” She sometimes has a hard time talking or texting in English. The green gummy bear is the only green bear—there are no others. It is like my mom—different, unique, and beautiful.

“NO ELBOWS ON THE TABLE” I am from a neighborhood where you could run through the empty lots and fields Neighbors that looked over all the kids in the area, gravel roads and the first home that was built in the city of Harvey‟s southeast side built by my father My mother and father kissed everyday at 4:15 when he got home from work in our kitchen which was 6 by 4 feet, but we managed; our first wall to wall carpet made of a weaved paper/cotton; all Mom and Dad could afford; They worked hard to put food on the table; always spent extra money on my sister and me instead of themselves Mom‟s rose bushes; Sunday school every Sunday and “Trick or Treating” event Halloween until midnight Playing baseball in one of the fields at the corner of our street Sitting on my dad‟s stool in the garage and watching him work My poodle haircut as well as skirts Walking to the grocery store and buying a Popsicle for 7 cents; bread for 25 cents Mother cooking Sunday dinners and all of us eating together Mothers platform heels and me wearing more than one petticoat First record I ever had was Bill Haley “Rock Around the Clock” Picnics with my aunt, uncle, cousins Bill and Chuck at Wilmington Lake Falling on my bike (still have the scar on my knee to this day) Crying at the doctor‟s office and running out Visiting my grandmother‟s restaurant and her letting us make our very own ice cream sundries Hugs and pinches on the cheek from grandma; she was happy to see us Falling asleep on grandparent‟s pool table at the restaurant; waiting for Mom and Dad to take me home I live in a doorway Between two rooms. Vacations in Wisconsin and swimming in a “real” swimming pool in the I hear the constant sounds of ground Pencils tapping, notebooks flipping And the rumbles on the floor as students run by. I tried always not to disappoint my Mom and Dad, never talked back; I wanted them to be proud of me I feel the rubber grip of a pen The hard desk as I tap it with my fingers Dad saying “yes” when Mom said “no” I feel the cold metal as I turn the door knob The smooth cafeteria table as I set my food down. I really miss those hugs and pinches to this day! I smell the stinky odor of sweaty kids coming from P.E. The smell of pizza as I walk past the lunch room. I smell pencil shavings as they land on my nose. The exhaust from the bus as it takes me home

~Nancy Mohr Cravens Mrs. Gruca‟s mother

I peek in the other room and see A different world I see a dog running around the yard The tv, constantly changing channels Doors opening and closing every 2 minutes I hear the dog barking As strangers walk by The meat sizzling on the grill I hear the constant talking

Photo Credit: Christopher Biggs 6th grade student

I smell the rice cooking on the stove Fresh Windex smells as the windows are being cleaned The dog as she is being washed The nice Lysol spray. Eric Brehmer 6th grade student

Him Everything— I remember everything about him. He smelled of Axe and smoke—a smell that was always around. He spoke loudly so we couldn't miss a word. He was warm and strong but soft at heart. But then he left and I smelled no Axe. I couldn’t hear his voice. And I didn’t feel his warmth spread to my heart. ~Jordan Miller 6th grade student

“It‟s private! Nevertheless, they keep digging, ribbing, searching for all the intimate details of ones‟ life. It‟s a chance to gueststar in their own private „Oprah‟ show. We all have mental diaries. When we feel shame or have a secret, it‟s put in the diary to help overcome our hang-ups. It might be therapeutic to reveal what we think is secret, but know in your heart it shouldn‟t be. You think you‟re talking to yourself, except the world is there listening in the form of the analyst. When you grow tired of searching deep inside, you start hearing complaints—Why? Because you have become the featured star and your audience is looking for more deep stuff… You reach in your closet to pull out one hanger and six of it‟s friends will follow…” ~Eileen Small Caitlin Arquines‟ grandmother

Athlete Writer I write with the perseverance of an athlete. I have to make it to the Superbowl or World Series as a writer. My words have to compare to athletes who give whatever it takes to finish and make it . I must be better than anyone else. I always want to finish that climb and make it to the top and finish the paper. I have to push harder up the mountain to win to get the life that I want. Manning. Jeter. Pujols. Urlacher. I am the athlete writer. I do not want to drop the pass or miss the ball with writing. I put my heart and my soul into the words on the page. To be an athlete writer, you need to strive for perfection. ~DJ Donofrio 6th grade student

Everyone I don’t care about popularity even though people always tell me I should. I don’t want to wear brands even though ads say it’s cool. I like my glasses even through other kids say they’re nerdy. I won’t let anyone change me even though everyone tells me it’s going to be hard. ~Jordan Miller 6th grade student

Cake I’m like a cake— my writing is beautiful like the details of the frosted words. But if you give me a hard assignment, I will crash to the ground and so will all my decorations. My writing is also tasty and gets you asking for more. But if you tell me to write 1000 words, I will crumble to bits, making you start all over. ~Peyton Davis 6th grade student

Photo Credit: Aly Pusateri 6th grade student

I Grew Up I hear it all the time grow up but haven’t I grown up enough? When he left I grew up and learned to be the eldest When she got sick I grew up and learned to be the strongest When she got surgery I grew up and learned to be the browest What can’t I stop growing and just be twelve but I know I can’t— I just have to grow up and accept it. ~Jordan Miller 6th grade student

Father to Son Let me tell you something boy: life has been like an iPod. Headphones are like your parents— They will always be with you. But all the time, I have been searching for the right song— one that is fun to listen to— the kind that have rappers like my older brother singing them. The speakers are loud when playing my music like my big brother yelling at me— listening to songs like when I listen to my dad. ~Randy Richardson 6th grade student

I live in a doorway Between two rooms I hear Teachers talking about what we Need to do. I hear kids whispering to each Other. I hear pencils scratching on the paper. I hear the videos we see in class. I peek In the other room, I feel weird. I feel sad. I left my old friends. I taste New food. I smell Different stuff I seek a new world. - Hector Contreras 6th grade student

Don’t Go Down without A Fight Don’t go down without a fight Live your life first right. Then go up into the light.

Who am I? Confusion Happiness Sorrow Fear Courage

See the people. The world the life. Don’t go down without a fight.

Kindness Faith Feeling Understanding Meaning

If happiness were a color it would be dark blue— as calm as the ocean If happiness were a taste, it would be like a Big Mac. If happiness were a feeling, it would be like watching your kid graduate from high school. If happiness were a smell, it would smell like Febreze. If happiness were a sound, it would sound a player scream who just won the Super Bowl.

Who am I? A human being.

-Frank Arteese 6th grade student

Who am I? The person of feelings Strengths Weaknesses Brains Brawns Who am I? I am a person with mind

See the zoo. Your friends the new. Then go up into the light. People will miss you. Young and old from all around. Don’t go down without a fight. Say goodbye. Just one last time. Then go up into the light. I will miss you. They will, too. Don’t go down without a fight. Then go up into the light.

~Noorani S. Pirani 8th grade student

~Josie Heywood 6th grade student Photo Credit: Kailee Eggert 6th grade student

Forgiving a Friend I want to be friends again and forget everything that happened between us,

Between the name-calling, The yelling and fighting, I want to be friends again, The games we played, The time we talked, the time we helped each other, I want to relive the moments, Through the phone, computer, or in person, What ever happen I want to forget it, I want the fun to flow again, I want to be friends again, I want to play more games, relive old games, I’ll take back anything mean, I just want to be friends. ~Matt Robinson 6th grade student

“For The Love of Jake” by Susan Karas Stephanie Karas’ mother You protected me from harm and every time I came home, you would run straight into my arms. My eyes are like waterfalls, tears falling like rain. I will not be complete, until we meet again. Your love made me feel special and while, but my heart will not be complete until we meet again at The Rainbow Bridge, and we can be together forever. You were a wonderful gift from the heaves above. I will always miss your kisses, sweetness, and love. My sweet angel Jake, I will miss you forever but I know you will love on in my soul forever, but I know someday, and every day, we are always together. Love always, Mommy

Xbox Waiting patiently and lonely, On the soft floor. Urging me to return I‟d like to forgive you friend

And pick up the controller.

but I don‟t like how you treat my friends— your actions

As the white machine shakes,

does it ruin everyone?

Back to life. Giving me a choice,

I‟d like to forgive you friend

Black Ops or Halo?

The more you get older

but I find you‟re harder to trust. that your youth might be able to care

The decision made my eyes open,

I‟d like to forgive you friend

Returning it to its original state.

But your heart gets colder and colder

As the end of the day grows near,

The more we go on The more hate builds in your eyes

The x-box grows tired.

Your pushing people away, friend,

Waiting for a new day to come

but can I still be your friend?

Excited and ready for a new day. ~Eric Brehmer 6th grade student

For all the fights, all the parties, all the dances you‟ve ruined 93

I‟m sorry but I can‟t forgive I disown you as my friend. ~Grace Higgins 6th grade student

Mama to Daughter You just don’t know how good you got it. I want my baby to have everything— Xbox Wii iPod You don’t feel like you has to do anything. I worked hard to get where we are— everything I do is for you. Compared to yo’ daddy, we doin’ real good. You got yo’ head in the wrong direction— all I can do is guide you to what’s right. That’s the problem these days— kids wanna’ be grown. If I had a change to go back to age 12, I’d take it— any day. Cus’ these bills ain’t fun. I want my baby to stay my baby and I will do whatever it takes— I won’t go out no more— I just don’t want you to make the same mistake I did. ~Areona Hinkle 6th grade student

Poems Fascinating, hard structures. Emotional feelings. Meaningful mixtures.

Art Credit: Ryan Gaddis 8th grade student

Writing then sharing. Loud clapping and cheering. Fascinating, hard structures. Very creative. Feeling merrily. Meaningful mixtures. A bit of courage— bit of scary. Fascinating, hard structures. Appreciative feeling from others. Proudly leaving the classroom. Fascinating hard structures. Meaning mixtures. ~Alexa Gomez 6th grade student

In the Dark Take me break me heal me feel me lies, cries, in the dark. No one sees me because we are in the dark Tears here fears here Nobody nears here because we are in the dark No sun just fun because, we are in the dark. ~Jordan Miller 6th grade student

Reading

Sunset on the Beach

I open the book eyes moving back and forth— back and forth opening my mind to adventure. Reading is life.

Waves crashing Sun beating Sand on my feet Saltwater oceans Clear blues seas Sun burnt from the sun

As you get to know the characters, you become attached. One bad thing and it affects you. Characters are like your family.

Making memories Collecting sea shells Sunset on the beach

When the book gets interesting, you have to keep reading — no matter what happens. Then it goes downhill, and you stop. A book is like a roller coaster.

~Taylor Lackey 6th grade student

Right when the book is about to end, you get mad because you want it to continue. Like when your playing a game and it ends. Reading is like a game. I open the book eyes moving back and forth— back and forth opening my mind to adventure. Reading is life.

~Gretchen Freebern 6th grade student

I sit here at this desk like a car with a dead engine. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to write about. I call a tow truck to help me out. I get a new engine thanks to the t0w truck. I get the hang of writing each word— each paragraph.

~Gabby Hoffman 6th grade student The Silence I hear the crickets chirp. I hear a wolf’s cry. I lay waiting. I lay listening. There it is! I hear it! But then, Nothing. I hear the loudness of Silence.

Car without an Engine

Then I’m lost and the engine is dead again but I think fast and fix it myself to get it started up again. My pencil continues to write quickly. I’m on the road again and I’ve finally reached my destination. I figured out my assignment and got done just in time. ~Jacob Geraci 6th grade student 95

Index Acosta, Camila 21 Aguirre, Alondra 42 Alexander, Khaalis 72 Ambrosio, Josh 13 Angomas, Esther 73 Aniz Playo, Kayla 59 Arias, Karina 65, 76 Arquines, Caitlin 2, 27, 64, 76 Arquines, Colleen 7 Arroyo, Daniel 25, 27 Arteese, Frank 92 Basile, Erica 16, 20, 52, 66 Basile, Gianni 70 Bassett, Cara 74 Baumgartner, Amy 15 Becker, Miss 26 Bennis, Bryan 25 Bernal, Emilio 80 Bernhagen, Garrett 40, 48, 51, 56, 61, 69 Biggs, Christopher 35, 38, 70, 88, 89 Bitner, Lilibeth 55 Bolero, Justin 49 Brehmer, Eric 89, 93 Brooks, Edmond 72 Burkett, Kylie 46, 49, 67, 72 Byrd, Darius 12 Calvillo, Alyssa 21 Carreto, Ninel 61 Castillo, Israel 60, 70 Castillo, Melanee 77 Chambers, Serenity 43, 46, 64 Chibovytsch, Alexia 4 Clinkenburg, Brian 38 Collins, Andrew 77 Collins, Barbara 8 Collins, Drew 10 Collins, Hailey 11 Collins, Kennedy 8, 74 Collins, Kim 24 Collins, Samantha 37 Contreras, Hector 91 Cook, Kyle 6, 69 Cravens, Nancy 89 Crowne, Abi 13, 46, 72 Daveron, Miss 70

Davis, Cole 9 Davis, Peyton 12, 90 DeLaRiva, Yesenia 9 DeSantiago, Freddy 56 Diaz, Tanya 36 DiGrazia, Carol 23, 53, 61, 62 DiGrazia, Jessica 14, 79 Dixon, Zac 31 Dominguez, Maritza 80 Donofrio, DJ 90 Donofrio, Lisa 13 Drozd, Mrs. 33 Dunlap, Sami 6 Dutton, Brett 30 Ecarma, Ron 71 Edgeworth, Colton 30 Edgeworth, Keri 34, 54, 81, 83 Eggert, Jennifer 8 Eggert, Kailee 5, 12, 36, 39, 46, 51, 54, 60, 85, 86, 92 Eggert, Karson 8 22 76 Eggert, Ken 8 Erman, Mrs. 35 34 78 87 Evans, Terrell 73, 77 Farrar, Michael 47 Felbinger, Emily 87 Flores, Victor 80, 85 Flowers, Shantoria 42 Forth, Stephanie 43 Franger, Nicole 30 Freebern, Gretchen 4, 28, 31, 39, 84, 95 Froelich, Carolyn 24, 58 Gamino, Ruben 23 George, Josh 61 Geraci, Jacob 69, 95 Geraci, Jeff 88 Gilbert, Rachel 71 Gladdis, Ryan 94 Gomez, Alexa 94 Gonzalez, Jenny 87 Greene, Mr. 37, 59 Gruca, Mrs. 10, 28, 47, 74, 98, 100 Gutierrez, Deniece 32 Guiterrez, Matt 65 Hackett, Maggie 5, 14, 19, 42, 69 Hafeez, Zarish 41 96

Index Hall, Isaiah 26, 49 Harres, Niko 34 Hayes, Katie 27 Hayes, Michaela 42 Hebreard, Mrs. 71 Hernandez, Jonathan 83 Heywood, Josie 92 Higgins, Grace 11, 16, 93 Hinkle, Areona 23, 26, 54, 58, 65, 72, 86, 94 Hoffman, Gabby 11, 84, 95 Holmes, Khaleel 51 Howerton, Devan 58 Hubbard, Danielle 13, 62, 73 Hubbard, Teri 62 Hudson, Deserie 34 Hundal, Mr. 17 Iskander, Andrew 11 Jaglin, Emily 64 Jankovsky-Boatman, Jordan 14 Jimenez, Belinda 62 Jimenez, Brad 30 Johnson, Markus 55 Jordan, Tim 24, 79 Karas, Stephanie 75, 80 Karas, Susan 18, 93 Karkoszka, Agnes 27, 31, 41 Karkoszka, Peter 38 Knoebel, Jake 28 Koberstein, Ryan 44 Kolton, Amy 60 Kotopka, Cole 33 Kovac, Christopher 37, 73 Lackey, Taylor 95 Laemmer, Yaso 7, 44 Lakshmanan, Jay 31 Lakshmanan, Ramya 20, 40 Lancaster, Bonnie 77 Lancaster, Hannah 50 Lewicki, Joe 63 Litkenhus, Mrs. 78 Loesch, Peyton 67 Malave, Cristian 34 Manetti, Daniel 55 Manetti, Samantha 55 Manjarrez, Adrian 22

Manyara, James 8 Marquez, Barbara 21 Marshall, Corrie 21 Martinez, Brianna 28 Mathews, Gina 66 Mathiu, Sharon 39 May, Lexi 72, 86 Mayerhofer, Timothy 79 McAuliffe, Colin 10 Meas, Darvin 67, 74 Meas, Jennifer 30 Mehok, Doherty Kyle 52 Mendez, Michael 88 Midlock, Mrs. 23 27 Miller, Jordan 10, 19, 32, 58, 61, 62, 64, 66, 71, 77, 85, 90, 91, 94 Moore, Mimi 6 Murphy, Ms. 35 Musani, Sakina 4 Nessinger, Brett 84, 87 Nicoski, Morgan 37 Ogbuli, Robert 52 Orlos, Mrs. 49 Ortega, Giselle 42 Pacanowski, Jason 53 Phillips, Luke 86 Pirani, Noorani 83, 92 Placek, Austin 18 Pratt, Niles 29 Probst, Anthony 82 Pusateri, Aly 1, 3, 25, 43, 45, 48, 78, 91 Pusateri, Marc 3, 25, 78 Rice, Demonte 52 Richardson, Noah 62 Richardson, Randy 49, 91 Robinson, Matthew 58, 67, 78, 92 Roemer, Will 87 Rojas, David 18 Romero, Alyssa 9, 19 Romero, Marty 11, 19 Romero, Tristan 57, 59 Ruiter, John 14 Sanghani, Justin 51 Saucedo, Aaron 10 Savaglio, Allyssa 53 Savaglio, Ellen 33 97

Index Schuetz, Josh 49, 62 Shafer, Tod 7 Shanley, Chris 5 Shanley, Dawn 14, 26 Shanley, Nicole 18, 42, 56, 85 Shelton, Morgan 56 Small, Eileen 35, 36, 42, 44, 46, 50, 52, 56, 60, 62, 68, 70, 80, 83, 90 Smallwood, Angela 39 Smith, Clark 39 Smith, Elizabeth 39 Smith, Emma 39 Smith, Justin 65 Smith, Katie 4, 22 Smith, Scott 69 Smoldt, Ashley 16, 35 Smoldt, Donna 28 Smoldt, Robert 28 Stetzer, Megan 5 Szot, Brooke 50 Tarello, Dominic 50 Tarello, Vincent 87 Thomas, Lucas 81 Thornton, Jill 50 Torres, Joel 48 Tuzci, Sara 34 Uju, Jeremiah 40 Vasay Mohiuddin, Lubna 41 Vasquez, Carina 4 Vidziunas, Vicky 16, 31 Vitha-Nolan, Michael 54 Volling, Steve 69 Voorhees, Shelby 31, 33, 53 Weaver, Ryan 56 Webb, Mrs. 15 Weir, Lucas 78 Weyenberg, Cassie 20, 22 Williams, Morgan 64 Wisniewski, Vicki 52, 56 Yaeger, Colleen 40 Yaeger, Ryan 69 Yeboah, McJane 81 Yerneni, Gowtham 18, 37 Young, Lamech 5, 71 Zavala, Andrew 50 Zavala, Veronica 9

It is an honor to be a part of a community of voices that represent the hearts and souls of such an array of students, parents, staff, and community members from all different cultures, ages, and families. When a person allows others to see him or herself on such a personal level, a bond forms between the writer and the reader. This bond can never be broken. Writing for others takes courage—the writers in this book are courageous, honest, and talented. As a teacher, I read some of these pieces and I am in awe. I have seen these students open their hearts and souls through writing to express their feelings—feelings that some never knew they had inside. Through this process, I saw mothers sitting down with daughters to write a piece together; I saw father‟s tearing up at the words of his son; I saw grandchildren sitting with grandparents to discover commonalities and sharing pieces of their life: war, heartbreak, emotion. I saw teachers, former JFK students, families, friends, and siblings supporting literacy by sharing their thoughts and talents for the world to read. These are the moments that count—these are the memories that we must cherish. Writing is a healing process. It is a powerful tool to overcome many of the emotions that humans face—love, happiness, heartbreak, and anguish. The talent that even some of our youngest writers have is something that as a community, we need to feed, nourish, and watch grown. Encouragement and praise only helps with this process. Writing and reading with the children of the next generation creates a common bond between families, cultures, and relationships. Their eyeopening pieces innocently show how they view relationships between humans; they show how they view nature and the world around them. Their voices have been finally heard and their writing should never cease. Growing up doesn‟t mean giving up writing or reading. Emotions cannot be bottled up; they must be released and expressing these feelings through a pen and paper is the most beautiful gift that one can give him or herself and to others. The talent in this book is only a glimpse to what each of these students will become during his or her life and it stands as a precursor of how these individuals will blossom in the future. The talent that friends and family of JFK have expressed acts as a foundation on which these students can build on. My amazing sixth grade students were a huge help with designing and putting this magazine together including advertising, selling, and editing. Thank you to all who have participated in this collection including parents, staff, community members, and JFK friends. The students chose the title “Hope.” HOPE is an acronym for “Hanging onto positive expectations.” The students agreed that it would be an appropriate title because choosing to make a difference and making the best of each situation are critical decisions made each day. In a time of war and uncertainty, we need to stand united and encourage each other's unique strengths and differences. Make each day a blessing. Smile. Be honest. Laugh until it hurts. Love one another. Make each moment count. Life is too short to do otherwise. With all of my love, respect, and gratitude, 98

Mrs. Gruca 6th grade teacher

99 Photo Credit: Aly Pusateri 6th grade student

John F. Kennedy Middle School 12350 S. Essington Road Plainfield, IL 60585

Spring 2011 100