The Avatar Spring 2020
Staff Faculty Advisors Carolyn Bean Jeff Seymour Editors Sierra Calhoune 20 Cici Chen 20 Dara Colpa 20 Maria Millette 22 Zach Grann 22 Cover Art Kate Champlain 22 Layout and Design Carolyn Bean
WIlliam J. Knaur, Head of School
Table of Contents Sometimes We Sing Jacob Robicheau 21 3 Lucy Zach Grann 22 4 Photography Elizabeth Hurley 23 5 Untitled Dara Colpa 20 6 Peppered Kisses Maria Millette 22 10 Minecraft Re-creation Kate Champlain 22 11 Digital Drawings Kat Daly 20 12 I Miss It Maria Millette 22 13
Failure to Organise
Daniel Patrick Galgano 20
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International Relations Flag Daniel Patrick Galgano 20
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Did You Know Amanda Mohamad 22 17
At Just Around Twilight
Cody Siegel 22
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Ode to Odessa Cody Siegel 22 19 That Day Cici Chen 20 20
I am a blank page. I might be boring right now, but I have endless potential....
Sometimes We Sing
Jacob Robicheau
Sometimes We Sing, Sometimes we don’t. Either from the outside, Or just because we won’t.
Sometimes we make the time go by To see the closest sun. Sometimes we have it last so long That time itself won’t run.
In times we need to get away, When all people need to feel free, Sometimes we get straight to the chase Sometimes we sing - Sometimes we sing.
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Lucy Zachary Grann
The door was almost closed. The din of endless conversation filled the room. The baby next door slept upon a wooden barred bed. A few steps away was another room, a bathroom with a basin that could not be turned on by any child being. Next to me, a girl nearly three years of age sat on her blanketed bed and listened as I spoke the words to a little book. “Hush little baby, don’t say a word, Mama’s going to show you a hummingbird.” I remembered that song from when I was a child. A little golden dress and a small rainbow tutu, she wore. Mommy to her and Aunt to me stood below the creaking. Lucy, her name stands and so does she. The throwing of a burning potato and the rolling of a gifted green dinosaur. Long puzzles of weird shapes, longer than the carpet floor. The putrid smell of an old box of Calico Critters rips the mind. “Protect Otty from the monsters,” she cried. In my smallest form, it was still an arduous entering of the tent. It was my mind that made me into a baby again. Fictitious leaves covered the tent and frail poles supported it. It was my turn to pretend. “I’ll take Otty, you get whiskers.” I reached out my hand and clutched a wrong-whiskered stuffed kitten that she loved. It was then that we began playing hospital. A toy shot and a nurse named Zach, we sat for a long while. Goodbye little jungle tent. We sauntered down the timber. When we reached the nethermost, a woman was standing, smiling. We embraced. Nana is her name in that house. A small house it was. Bricked and plastered, the drainages were being washed while we ate. No. I ate. She just watched like an effigy. The few things that she does guzzle are peanut butter, ice cream, clouds (peppers), trees (broccoli), oatmeal, popcorn, lollipops, frenchfries, and pretzel twists (her favorite).
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The television turned on. “Beat Bugs,” her favored television program. Of all the slipshod narratives that have come into being in the decade, the story of this series ripened a swine song sleep of tedium. To her, it was marvelous. This was a musical child. She always had a melody for living. There is a dynamic aspect of the show that captivates me. It follows the music of the forebears of British music: The Beatles. I did not appreciate what parents did until I became one. I did not give birth to the child. I did not raise the child. She did not suck milk from my bosom. But at that moment, I knew that someday, someone would call me father.
Elizabeth Hurley Photography
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Untitled - A Short Story
Temidara Colpa I stared into the cow’s large chestnut eyes, filled with pain and suffering as it averted its gaze, walking towards the splintered cedar fence with jagged edges and a rusted silver latch. Its white and brown hair had a layer of dirt and its skin was covered with fresh sores foaming with pus and blood. I jerked back as it let out a strangled cry, begging, pleading for me to take it out of its misery. I’d never seen an animal so broken, at least not until I arrived at Silver Lake. This animal was the embodiment of this town. Maybe if I would’ve taken more than a glance at what was right in front of my eyes... the filth, the loneliness, the desperation. Maybe I would have left but when I looked into Pearl’s eyes, everything felt different. She was happy, when everything around her wasn’t. When I looked into her beautiful brown eyes as she laughed wildly without a care in the world, I laughed too, a real laugh, and I felt happy, something I haven’t felt for a while, so I didn’t care. I didn’t care about the broken down buildings, the grass that looked as though it hadn’t been tended to in years, and the skeletal trees that lined each and every backyard. I didn’t care about the stray dogs too riddled with illness to even beg for scraps, because she reminded me of the good. She reminded me that although the houses are old and the paint is peeling they were once elegant Victorian homes that housed families. She reminded me of the new mothers breastfeeding their babies on the front porch with tiny children running in and out of doorways, and most importantly, she helped me to forget the bad. I think that’s what they were banking on. I took one last look at the cow before it collapsed into the dead grass beneath it, staring weakly in my direction. It bellowed out one last cry of pain before closing its eyes indefinitely as we turned around and left. “It doesn’t make sense to me, Pearl,” I sighed, shaking my head as I adjusted the white mask covering my mouth and nose. They sell them everywhere in town in the little boutiques that line the streets because the air quality here is so poor that everyone has to wear them. I remember the first time I saw these masks worn by a group of children rushing down the street practically laughing in the face of the death and destruction that surrounded them. It gave me an eerie feeling that I was never quite able to shake. “The animals are so sick and the town, it smells of death”. “What town doesn’t have a few strays, Rose?” she smiled as she looked over at a young dog with black and white spots on its sparse fur sitting in the corner of an alley covered with newspapers and blankets next to a dumpster. I followed as she walked down the alley before stopping in front of the puppy. It looked like it had only been born weeks before yet, it still managed to look so exhausted. Pearl bent down and reached out her hand apprehensively and lightly placed her hand on the dog as it flinched from beneath her touch before letting out a quiet sigh, and warming up to her touch, fell asleep. “I remember when I was little,” she sighed. “Me and my mother would feed a cat that would come to our house everyday. That’s what’s so beautiful about having animals roam the town. You see them so often it feels like they become your family.” “B-but why are they sick? They all look so sick,” I sighed shaking my head
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“Everyone’s sick nowadays,” she sighed, running her fingers through her curly brown hair “But I remember what this town used to be like, it gives me hope. It makes me wanna fight for it, to make it better. That might sound stupid, but I love this place,” she said. I sighed, feeling almost guilty for mentioning my reservations. Silver Lake might not be in the best shape now, but there’s still hope for change. At least as long as there are people like Pearl around here. “I’m sorry, Pearl. It’s not stupid. It’s beautiful” I said, reaching out my hand to help pull her up off of the pavement. “ It’s fine, let’s get going,” she said as she gently placed the puppy’s head on the ground. “And let’s let you get some rest,” she said to the puppy and with that, we headed off to the direction of the party.
As I approached the party, I noticed a plethora of vibrant, warm glowing lanterns that were lining the perimeter of the large white tent piercing through the darkness of the night and attracting tiny moths that flutter their wings every so often on the frosted glass of the lanterns. I noticed a large mechanical ball at the very top of the tent that reflected the moonlight, making it difficult to look at. Its large shards came together in the shape of a star. Two big black speakers at the back ends of the tent emitted loud pulsating music but I could barely hear it over the chatter of people laughing. A savoury, rich smell hits me from the glazed ham on the center of a table outside the tent. The table is covered with ruby red apples, large fuzzy peaches, sweet grapes and pastries frosted in pastel pinks and blues. The table is encircled with chairs with name tags attached to them but it seems people are far too busy to sit. The men are drinking beers wearing perfectly fitted suits and playing darts while their wives danced wearing opulent gowns with shiny black ribbons, swaying their hips to the music while their dresses flowed behind them. The town seemed alive, better yet thriving. I couldn’t help but smile and my smile only grew as a large woman wearing a purple cocktail hat approached me and instead of a white mask worn on top of her mouth and nose, hers was purple and covered in large ruby red crystals. “Welcome to Silver Lake,” she laughed loudly giving me a big hug, swaying side to side. I glared at Pearl as she let out a muffled laugh from beneath her hand as the hug lasted far longer than I’d expected. The lady was too high on the joy of the festivities to even notice her. I moved back from the lady practically prying her arms off of me. She gave me a big smile before saying, “Make sure to eat lots and lots of food, the food is delicious and you’re far too skinny.” She laughed, eliciting a smile for me. Pearl suddenly burst into laughter from behind me, unable to hold it in anymore. “Back for more, Pearl?” she smiled, shaking her head.
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“Absolutely” she said, “You don’t think I could go another year without seeing you, Gladys?” she questioned, narrowing her eyes comically. “Well” she said turning around and walking “Make sure to try the lamb this year, I heard it was delicious last year” she screamed over her shoulder, winking at Pearl before walking away. Pearl’s face seemed to shift to shock and maybe even disgust. She let out a sigh and plastered a big smile on her face, ignoring what had clearly caused her some distress. As Gladys turned, I noticed large dark spots on her neck surrounded with red inflamed skin, but it was hard to see from beneath the sheer neck piece covering the area. I turned to Pearl, shocked at what I had just seen. “Did you see her neck, Pearl?” I whispered to her. She looked at me completely unfazed. She shook her head and grabbed my hand as we walked off into the direction of the crowd. “It’s nothing, Rose,” she said, “Gladys has diabetes and she gets those sores on her neck sometimes.” “Oh,” I sighed looking off into the display table covered in food. Among all the sweet treats and savoury meat, I didn’t seem to spot any lamb as Gladys had mentioned. I was confused and among many other things concerned but, the rest of the night thankfully helped me to forget all of the things that initially bothered me as we joined in on the rest of the festivities of the town. We played darts and won against a group of arrogant men drinking champagne, practically snickering at the fact that we were even willing to try. I saw a side of Pearl that I loved. A part that didn’t care what those men thought and who laughed with a childish grin when we won, relishing the present moment, she was free and full of joy. That was until a man turned to Pearl as we walked away, with a snobbish grin “The lamb this year looks absolutely scrumptious,” he said, snickering. Pearl’s face twisted to a look of rage, but she held herself back, clenching her fists as the group of men laughed, regaining the sense of joy they had before we had won and turned, walking away as their dress shoes clicked against the concrete. A tear fell down her face but she wiped it away just as soon as it had appeared and turned to me, smiling at me as though nothing was wrong. “You wanna dance?” she said cheerfully, dragging me towards the dance floor in the white tent as though nothing had happened. I didn’t even have time to respond before the music was booming in my ears again as we swayed side to side with her hands on my hips and mine landing on her shoulders. My stomach was still turning from our encounter with the men, but the look on Pearl’s face made coming to the annual event completely worthwhile. She had a huge toothy grin on her face that outshined all the glitz and glamour of the night. As we swayed and swayed to the languid music, I completely forgot about my surroundings because I was too focused on the confident look in her eyes as she guided me. I was too focused on her beautiful brown eyes staring deeply into mine. She slowly leaned forwards pressing her lips to mine as my stomach filled with butterflies until the butterflies in my stomach shifted to a feeling of fear and anxiety. As I pulled away, her breath had a smell of death and decay, and that’s when I spotted them. The same sores on the cow and on Gladys were on Pearl’s neck peeking out from underneath her turtleneck sweater. As soon as I noticed them she quickly adjusted her turtleneck covering the skin. As she grabbed my hand I noticed her dry, peeling skin. My stomach sank. I looked to the front of the tent and noticed Gladys ringing a tiny handheld bell frantically as groups of people crowded from all sides.
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“I have to go” I said, exasperated and looking frantically for an exit point. I turned to leave but she grasped my hand tightly turning me back towards her. “Stay for the speech” she pleaded squeezing my hand as the air grew warm and sickening as people crowded me from all sides, ready to hear Gladys’ speech. I didn’t have anywhere to go. I didn’t know my way around Silver Lake and by the time I find my way out of the massive crowd of people the speech would be over so I decided to stay. “I’m so glad that we’ve had such a large turnout this year but I’m especially glad to welcome the new lamb to our community” Gladys says turning to face me with a smile on her face as the crowd roared, cheering in my direction. Were they really looking at me? I thought. I looked to Pearl but her eyes were focused on Gladys, turned away from mine. “The lamb is here to breathe life into the community but there cannot be life without death and there cannot be sanctity without sacrifice and that’s why I welcome you all to the Night of the Sacrificial Lamb.” A feeling of panic rose in me. Something was clearly very wrong. The mood of the room changed. Everything went silent. I didn’t have time to think before I felt a sharp pain in my side and noticed a dagger driven into my flesh being held by Pearl. I can’t believe I trusted her. I was fooled. Fooled by her stories. Fooled by the lights and the beauty of the night, so much that I didn’t see what was right in front of me. “I’m sorry” she whispered into my ear as she pulled the dagger out of my hip. “You were my favorite” she said as every town member took turns driving a dagger into my skin, even the children. I stared deeply into Pearl’s eyes that were full of remorse and watched as each stab revitalized her. Her skin became smoother and her eyes even brighter and the sores on her neck healed leaving crusted blood remaining. The town members were full of energy, removing their masks and laughing with glee as they stabbed and stabbed and stabbed. I watched in complete shock until I grew weaker, staggering forward from the blood loss. My vision grew fuzzy and my body grew more and more numb until everything went black.
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Peppered Kisses
I softly dragged my finger against the plush pillow and intertwined my hands with his. Confusion is all I feel, and warmth. Warmth from the light breathing on my ear, different than the heavy breaths a few hours ago. Confusion between what’s real and what’s not, that hazy, blinding feeling from the lack of light in the room. Feeling the air twirl and dance like the tree branches hitting the window pane outside. And lastly the soft whispers and giggles of innocence, the innocence of not knowing the ending of the lullaby. The innocence of not knowing what will happen tomorrow. Confused and warm, it doesn’t matter. Instead we decorate each other’s skin with peppered kisses until we both fall into a restless slumber.
Maria Millette
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Kate Champlain Minecraft Re-creation of Liar album cover art
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Kat Daly Digital Drawings
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I Miss It Maria Millette
The friendship we had The way our thoughts intertwined with one another like wire The wire coiling up through our insecurities and deepest thoughts and emotions I hate it I hate that I clung to you for support Threw up all of my emotions thoughts and feelings deep within myself in front of you so you can pick the pieces and put them together I didn’t realize how far it went until I lost you Threw away the key Gave you the space you needed to grow, only to know you’ll be able to get up and spread your wings again I hate that I attached so easily Like a parasite seeping into your skin tearing up all of your headspace You probably didn’t think the same though You never did. You gave me the space to grow and become the person I am today But without you now everything is distant Like a piece of myself that I had purpose for is now locked away inside me forever I miss our conversations I miss that you understood me I miss that you were the only person to hear about my fantasy, there to listen to me tell my story and there to give advice when needed I miss that I miss helping you with whatever bothered you at the moment Because to me that was the biggest friendship I had or will ever had again I might not be able to let people in the same way anymore And it kills me It kills me to know the feeling of heartbreak when a friendship is gone.
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Failure to Organise Daniel Patrick Galgano Today we are facing an enormous economic and political problem, which threatens not only our economic systems but humanity itself: climate change. In order for humanity to collectively combat climate change and the undeniable effect that it will have on our species, we must form an international organisation with actual teeth. Climate change must be prioritised and the world must use history as its guide. During the Second World War, international trade all but completely broke down. The cracks in our trans-border financial and tariff systems were shown, and the world powers discovered that without a set of rules to govern international trade and finances, more economic crashes of the size of the Great Depression were inevitable. Thus, the major economic powers came together at the Bretton Woods Conference and laid out plans for the International Monetary Fund (IMF), World Bank, and International Trade Organisation (which would eventually flop, but the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade would not). Today, the IMF, World Bank, and World Trade Organisation (the 1995 organisation based upon the GATT Treaty) are still going strong, and have even expanded on their original mandates. The first real international dialogue concerning Climate Change took place at the 1992 United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC). Ever since then, the issue of the environment and climate change has become increasingly prominent on the world stage. The most recent significant effort was the 2015 Paris Climate Accords. This agreement was hailed as a great success for the environmentalists and an effective instrument to combat climate change. However, this agreement lacked meaningful enforcement mechanisms, compelling incentives for countries to adhere to it, or a designated structure or organisational hierarchy. Overall, the deal lacked any roadmap for countries to format their policies to curb pollution. Even the new ‘rulebook’ developed at the 2018 UN Climate Change Conference, which was intended to supply guidelines for implementing the Paris Agreement, was criticised by environmental groups and Secretary-General António Guterres for lacking structure and concrete guidelines. One critical flaw of the Paris Accords is the lack of enforcement mechanisms or structure to determine if a signatory is adhering to the agreement. Many developing nations, such as China and India, have regulated their carbon emissions output by tying those goals to Gross Domestic Product growth. Their argument is that the West was the primary cause for the buildup of harmful emissions and the subsequent climate troubles, and thus, should be responsible for the bulk of cleanup. Consequently, they argue that developing economies should be allowed to grow. The argument, while somewhat compelling, is faulty. If the world is to really combat climate change, all nations must put aside the ‘blame game’ or the planet will face economic, humanitarian, and political disasters unparalleled by any that history has experienced.
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Environmental decisions of these scales should not be left entirely to domestic governments whose mandates, leaders, and economic needs shift. A topic as critical as environmental regulation and climate change cannot be deemed inferior to economic growth goals. We are seeing signs of this ideology changing, such as in Germany, where the government has begun to crack down on emissions limits in the transportation industry, despite auto manufacturing being all-important to the German economy. However, the leaders of the largest polluting countries, China, United States, and India, seem to be lukewarm to the idea of environmental regulation. (In some cases, not even acknowledging the scientific premise of the issue.) While the efforts of the European Union to decrease plastic pollution and carbon emissions are laudable, they are not enough to solve the global issue. If we are going to solve climate change, it cannot be entirely left in the hands of domestic governments, who often act selfishly on the issue. To tackle climate change, we must look to the past and see how we created organisations that changed how the world functions, as we did after World War II and the Great Depression. One example is the IMF and its voting share system. One of the reasons why the world’s most powerful countries signed onto and support the IMF is because they were given larger voting shares and more control of the money that was being put into the Fund. However, as the IMF expanded, developing nations, such as China, India, and other G20 nations, demanded more influence. In 2017, the United States lifted its objection to increasing China’s voting share and quota. This action shows that even the United States, which has been historically reluctant to hand over any influence to China, recognised that if the IMF was to remain as an effective international organisation, it had to allow developing nations to contribute and show leadership. This benefits the organisation with more funds from developing economies. Thus, a similar ideology must be incorporated into forming a global environmental organisation. The only way to get powers such as America, China, India, Russia, and the European Union to join on, is to give them a larger voting share. Those countries that have not committed to reducing emissions and have slashed environmental regulations would see their voting rights diminished, and annual fees would remain the same or increase. In short, repercussions and rewards would be put into play. The Paris Climate Accords represented a hopeful vision for the world, in which countries would act in the best interest of the world-at-large and follow a constructivist ideology and work within the agreement. However, the deal did not include the necessary tools to last. It hasno internal dispute mechanism like the WTO, it has no organisational body to gather data and create benchmarks such as with the World Bank and its Human Capital Index, and it allows nations to flaunt the principles set forth. The international community has to stop thinking about climate change as something that can be solved by platitudes and the hope that national governments will step in. They must organise and act, as they have on trade and economic policies.
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Daniel Patrick Galgano International Relations Flag Digital Creation
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Did You Know Amanda Mohamad
Did you know That I cried for you That my cheeks turned pale For you were my ail I saw you that night A word I said not
Your shoes were by the door Next to her heels I was too late Did she enjoy herself? Was this your escape?
Did she know The real truth Or was she caught up In the feelings of the moment The feelings soft and rough
She wore the tight pink top Her hair was worn in waves She told you never stop The sounds of being saved
Did you both know I watched the whole time My body was numb I doubted the divine I doubted all you told me Your words of glee I no longer had hope I felt my heart flee
I lost peace of mind I lost all certainty But to top it all off I lost a piece of me
And you had no clue.
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At just around twilight Cody Siegel At just around twilight The dreams I dreamt were flooded with fireflies and tangos Gazing into your eyes and knowing I was at rest But my wild thoughts, as I consciously lie Capture these dreams For all but about fortnite The spell by night witches was steeped with songbirds and their melodies Hearing your chime and seeing I was home Yet the wildings spewing around their hissing cauldron Strangle my illusions of love By merely civil dusk The sorceress I sought was plagued by her sirens and her sibilance Feeling the pulsating touch of your soft neck and nevermore clearing your trace Still, the venom spewing through my veins and into my skull Chomp these dreams to bits When the clock struck silent The phantom I mused was haunted by an enchantress and her handmaids Hearing your soft sonorous sound and reaching that moment of gratification Yet the midnight spirits stirring in my head Refuse to grow weary Long before dawnlight The hallucinations I slept to oh so soundly were covered with nymphs and moonbeams Touching your fragile essence and never releasing Though the night fairies torture my erratic mind, as I contemplate our awoken love And abuse the power of the passive Before the somber sky awoke The castle on the cloud I flew to was besieged with young Graces and their noble heirs Praising your righteous purity and feeling glorified Yet the yearning mirage was riddled with chanting vestals caroling in my ear And dictate my gleeful grail Earlier than forenoon The brimstone temple I begged upon filled a jungle of golden tigers and silver monkeys Meeting your sacred roots and worshiping your godly frame Still, the snakes encroaching upon my tomb Playfully slither between my bones
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As the west rose above A black marble palace was rampaged with panthers and their wicked jesters Sinking into your tender lips and growing content But the starving creatures crowd around their crystal ball And dance about like mad children upon the fading moon As the day’s divinity arises The sirens are silenced And the fine creatures rest I turn beside your pulsating touch and your fragile essence And there I lay awake- Awake dreaming. Ode to Odessa Cody Siegel
Husk! who settles upon a river of haze, What squirrels and rabbits have you stored these days? What howling winds have yet to be unconquered Gazing over thine pale blue shadow You are mistress of the mist Queen of wetlands left fallow.
With thine radiant segments of clear crystal blue Casts a hue that illuminates an eternal light At any given moment- twilight or blind night.
As for the hot springs that glow and the mountains that weep Your tribal chant of glory erupts a ballad O so deep. From thine tail to thy ears dwells a coat of silver armour Dancing through a forest of fog As Your footprints haul a misleading charmer To where ghosts bewitch his fragile ailing mind.
They call thee a noble Odessa- once a warrior Now the queen Your majesty Idolatry to the Chukchi Heart to a winter never seen.
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That Day Cici Chen The very first day you and I met, walking down the pitch-dark valley, hand in hand, the time we made eye contact, I could feel my heart start making its first beat after this long time. We bathed in moonlight, surrounded by snow, owls hooting under the stars, until the wind carried your words far to nowhere in the mountains. Our topics waved from the universe down to breakfast. From hands, to arms, then my back, lips were where you wanted to land. Until your rough fingertip touched my lips, staring down at my eyes, those eyes hiding behind the glasses blurred the thoughts in your eyes. A murky cloud covered the moon, then I felt that soft touch, a perfunctory and generous kiss you gave me, a stunning, expected kiss. The first night with no witness, but only two of us, was now the most precious memory stored deeply inside my heart. Even though it was a year after, it still lightened my day with my torn heart. Happiness, comforts, and security faded away as time passed by. My heart, piece by piece, lost its way home. Dips of blood oozing down my stabbed chest, less and less vitality inside of me, I finally took that step back. Watching you and her strolling in the woods reminded me of the old days. The familiar smile on her face was just like looking at the mirror from the past. But only those eyes dusted with time, no longer clear or innocent. Walking down the valley, those two figures vanished by the heavy fog. Wearily, I looked up at the sky, the moon covered with clouds, the stars struggling for a view of the world. Traipsing by the road, owls hooting, the wind carried it far to nowhere in the mountains.
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Inside back cover... What to do? Maybe... be creative.
