Jesuit Journal
January 2009
www.jesuitcp.org/campuslife/studentcouncil
Jesuit Journal 1
Vincent Nguyen ’09
Contents & Acknowledgements Because My Parents Said So.........................................................Chris Ackels ’09 Chase.............................................................................................Nick Ryder ’10 The City.........................................................................................Nick Ryder ’10 The City.........................................................................................Robert Brown ’10 Hello..............................................................................................David McCorcle ’09 Painting.........................................................................................Michael Curran ’10 Where Are You Going to College?...............................................Topher Boehm ’09 The Hurricane...............................................................................Rossi Walter ’10 What About Now?........................................................................David McCorcle ’10 My Best Kept Secret....................................................................David McCorcle ’10 Indian Paint, Indian Girl...............................................................Rossi Walter ’10 The Woman and Her Child...........................................................Rossi Walter ’10
Publisher.....................................Student Council Czar of the Jesuit Journal.....Gregg Thawley ’09 Co-Editor..............................Michael Navarrete ’09 Understudy.......................... .Jamie Fletcher ’10 Layout & Design....................Richard Devero ’09 Art Contributors...................Vincent Nguyen ’09 Ben Galichia ’10 Topher Boehm ’09 Moderator.............................Dr. Michael Degen
That’s it! Our first issue. I’d like to thank everyone who contributed art and poetry, and encourage other people to do likewise. It makes you cool to be in the Jesuit Journal. -Gregg “Beauty is mysterious as well as terrible. God and devil are fighting there, and the battlefield is the heart of man.” -Fyodor Dostoevsky So, here’s a glimpse of the battlefield. -Michael Your Jesuit Journal Editors
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Because My Parents Said So By Chris Ackels ’09 Because my parents said so I don’t cuss (speak for yourself) I drive under the speed limit (act for yourself) I study hard for all my tests (work for yourself) I don’t play video games (choose for yourself) I vote Republican (think for yourself)
Chase By Nick Ryder ’10 After staring into these lives he finds an interesting quarrel between two squirrels in front of him feet engaged, tails swirling about, fighting their way through the bushes, looking for a new path to take, watching their backs for the competition, taking advantage of the opponent’s mistakes, in the game of chase.
Vincent Nguyen ’09
Ben Galichia ’10
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The City
Nick Ryder ’10
while he incessantly tapped on the street sign the passengers of a slow moving bus caught his attention eyes dazed, emotions dull, hanging onto memories of the past day, dreading the cycle, fearing the end, watching the sidewalk, without reason to go on.
Vincent Nguyen ’09
The City
Robert Brown ’10
As I walk through the concrete jungle I see many things My eyes staring, my jaw dropping Bombarding with ads Hurting my ear drums Ruining my innocence Overwhelming my brain Underneath my skin Because of the crowding of cars This urban landscape takes its toll Choking my lungs Killing my lung and brain cells Ruining my endurance Making me dizzy
Vincent Nguyen ’09
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Hello
By David McCorcle ’09
I am David And I am human I do not know what I do But I know what I feel I speak to you how I can With words With ideas With a stare I sometimes find An inspiration there Guiding me And assisting me To create those words However those words can fail At giving the message Of what my ideas Truly mean There is sometimes Just you And I stare Trying to say Hello My name is David And I am human
Painting
Vincent Nguyen ’09
By Michael Curran ’10 As the brush paints a stroke the canvas swells until the paint dries when the craft is complete what i can’t form in time is wrought upon the surface relaxing to fit the vision in my head
Ben Galichia ’10
Jesuit Journal 5
Where Are You Going to College?
Topher Boehm ’09
When you are a senior, you will understand that people’s perceptions of your future depend on where you decide to attend college after graduation. It is arguably the first decision that a person makes in his own life that has a real bearing on his future. Because of this, since this summer almost everyone I see has asked me , “Topher, where are you going to go for college next year?” They then look at me with a confused look when I say, “I’m not.” Everything they know about my past grades, upbringing, and personality goes by the wayside as they stare at me pondering. They wonder in that split second what I am going to do. So I tell them. I am doing a gap year in Sydney, Australia, and I hope that the following narrative will help explain. About three years ago, I was talking to Mr. Hough, S.J. about his high school days in England. When I asked him, in retrospect, where he went to university, I, like my modern interrogators, was confused when he said that he did a gap year. He explained that commonly in England, Ireland, Australia, and other parts of central Europe, many high school students decide to defer their college acceptance to spend a year, usually abroad, either working in some type of program or spending half of the year working and the other half traveling around the world. He then told me that he spent a year at a Jesuit boarding school in Sydney as a tutor, coach, and mentor. The idea intrigued me and from that day, the common American order of life no longer made sense to me. As a sophomore, I began futilely to look into different opportunities for gap year programs at various Jesuit high schools across the world. There was only so much I could do from my computer in Dallas; these programs are not publicized and usually exist as exchanges from one school to the other. Mr. Hough helped me, informing me that his Jesuit high school, Stonyhurst College, had an exchange gap program with the Australian school he spent a year at, St. Ignatius College in Sydney. These were my only two leads in the world, and I was going to be traveling to one that summer. The summer after my sophomore year, I went to England with a group from Jesuit led by Mr. Hough to see London, Manchester and finally Stonyhurst. While at the college, I met with their admissions director about the possibility of doing a gap year there. He seemed excited that an American had interest, but informed me that it was not his decision to make, and I would have to send an e-mail to the headmaster once I got home because the headmaster was on vacation. When I got home, I eagerly sent the e-mail across the Atlantic back to Stonyhurst. About a week later, I was sad to read that Stonyhurst only accepted three gap students from their sister school, St. Ignatius’ College in Sydney. My search took a long pause after that, being completely flattened by Stonyhurst’s response. Junior year followed like normal, but I never gave up my drive to be somewhere other than college after graduation. My interest sparked once again after I decided to go to World Youth Day 2008, in Sydney, Australia with the group from Jesuit. I thought that maybe I could talk to someone at St. Ignatius about the possibility of a gap year. I planned on having some time during WYD to cut away and speak to someone at the college.
continued on next page
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The group arrived in Sydney safely, and we connected with another Jesuit college in Sydney. Don’t ask why there are two Jesuit colleges in Sydney; it is an unexplained mystery. We got to the school and were placed with our host families. Richard Devero, Max Godvin, and I stayed with the Menzies. They had a son, Kurt, graduate from St. Aloysius’ college this past year; unfortunately, Kurt was and still is traveling in North and South America on his gap year so he was not at the house while we were there. Because of this, we spent some of the small amount of spare time that we had with another family down the street, the McNamaras, who were hosting WYD pilgrims from Chicago. The Macs’ son, Paddy, graduated from St. Ignatius’ this past year. The two schools have a bit of rivalry between them. I tell you this for a reason; these two families were crucial in getting me to Australia. I had never thought about the fact that I would have no free time during World Youth Day, and I was surprised when the time came to leave Sydney, and I had not met with anyone about a gap year. I returned to Dallas, wondering how on earth I would be able to get my foot in the door because of the exclusive nature of gap years. It fell into place after an hour-long phone call with American Airlines. My dad has taken his children one by one along with him on one of his business trips to Tokyo the summer before their senior year. My time came this year, a week after I got back into the country from Australia. For business reasons, my dad had to tack a trip to Sydney on to his itinerary. He told me that I could go with him if I found a way of paying for the ticket. The phone call comes in here. With a few airplane miles of my own, a few of my brothers and a couple hundred dollars, I had secured a ticket on Qantas Airways flight 22 to Sydney. Now knowing that I was on my way back, I sent the first of many e-mails across the Pacific to both the Menzies and the McNamaras. Both families were connected to St. Aloysius (who also has a gap year program) and St. Ignatius . They, champions they are, sent me back the contact information for the people I needed to meet with while I was in Sydney. I sent off e-mails to both schools explaining who I was and why I inquired. They both responded, and I had successfully set up two meetings about my gap year. I arrived from Tokyo at 7:20am and went to the hotel, changed, and arrived on the campus of St. Aloysius’ in less than an hour. There, I met with Mr. Murray Happ, who is in charge of the gap year students, and he was very excited about the prospect of having an American at the college. He said that he wanted to build stronger ties with American Jesuit schools and accepted me as a gap student right then and there. You can imagine the bliss that came over me; my dream of three years had suddenly come true. I mustn’t forget that I had to get to St. Ignatius for a meeting with their headmaster, Mr. Shane Hogan. My meeting with Mr. Hogan went similarly. He was impressed that I had inquired and said that he looked forward to seeing me back in a year. At that moment, I couldn’t have been happier. I walked outside, looked at the Sydney Harbour, and felt settled. As Michael Phelps won his sixth gold medal, I called home to tell the family. They were all very excited for me and asked the same question I had to ask myself, “Which school will I choose?” I was put in a good situation, but after reflecting, researching and talking to my Australian families, I chose to accept the offer at St. Ignatius. continued on next page
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Next year, I will be living on the campus of the college and being fed three meals a day by their dining hall. I am expected to dress as a teacher because I will be employed as one. The program gives me a schedule that I work with from a day-to-day basis, so I have a fairly regimented life. I will also help coach some sport, which could be a problem because I don’t play rugby or cricket. Other than that, I do not know what to expect, and for one time in my life, the unknown does not scare me; rather, it makes me excited for the unexpected. Now begins the wait. I am extremely excited to be working at St. Ignatius’ next year, but I can’t lose sight of the goals in mind, graduation and college. I am currently applying to St. Louis and Boston College. I will defer acceptance, if I am accepted, and wait until next year. I am happy to be doing something different, something to gain perspective, work a year of service, become global, and hopefully have a lot of fun along the way. I am embarking on a rather unique journey. In the end, I think it will play in my favor. I will learn many things about communication, the world and life. I also hope that I find out what I am called to do in life and what truly makes me happy. It has been a long journey to this point and an even longer one ahead. I don’t usually have time to tell my story to people who ask me where I will spend the next year. It seems to be such a ludicrous break from the norm, but I think that we will see gap years become more and more popular. I feel sorry for those who never heard that things like this exist because I trust that they would have pursued the opportunity as I did. What ends up happening, and I am not advocating for or against this, is that high school students are forced to colleges, then jobs, then wives and 2.1 children, and if they are lucky, dogs without ever knowing that the world is their playing field. Virtually anything is possible in our global world. We are all intimately connected and the sooner people begin to take advantage of this fact, the more cultured, open minded, and educated young people will become.
Topher Boehm ’09
Jesuit Journal 8
The Hurricane By Rossi Walter ’10
Fire and ash mix into smoke and air And soon after from forth my pores spill touch. The rolling skies of darkness roll themselves into storm clouds; The drivers adjusts the clutch. The seat beneath me and to my back grows serpentine fingers With which calloused cushions caress my comfort; The car speeds down the highway, most certainly to my end And I accept that without retort. Eruptions of wind in the blood stop flesh And open veins up for new life They are shredded then indebted, forced to childbirth As a monstrous gale uproars as my wife. Driver’s seat, two seats behind cringe in silent fear as I thrash And flail and scream and howl; nothing can caress nor compose This feeling that is a hurricane Of which I cherish myself the most.
Ben Galichia ’10
What About Now?
I strain to pull away from bundles of vibrations Changing me so fast Until I am regained by the storm And it engulfs me whole, at last.
By David McCorcle ’09
You have been there every night with the perfect advice I asked God for help at these times and He answered But now there is nothing you can say for this That would make it fine Time after time people say “there is something going on.” And the one time there is a “yes” everything was horrible So why even try to continue but when do I start using up my dignity? When do I start looking desperate? Do I allow more rejections, or just leave it be? What about now? Now that I do not care for my losses I cannot grow if I do not sacrifice something But when is it enough? Just leave it be and answers will come.
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Ben Galichia ’10
Ben Galichia ’10
Paint, Indian Girl My Best Kept Secret IByndian Rossi Walter ’10 By David McCorcle ’09
Would you really like to know My best kept secret? Well then here we go There was Purple There was Yellow Then there was Green Three very interesting little colors Living in this world simultaneously Purple is for the king Yellow is for the happy Green is for the cure The Purple gave the Yellow Some extra Green And all was good for the time being However the Green turned to be A rather illusive toxin That enslaved the lives Of all the Yellow Who turned to be quite Cowardice and blamed the Purple Who mourned all his losses For not all is as it seems With just a slightly bigger scope He would have seen that The Purple is of mourning The Yellow is of Cowardice And the Green is of sickness Did you catch my secret? If not then let me tell you again.
Self portrait of future indulgences that Satisfy my still curious perceptions of Life and luxury. A scentless portrait of she who stands In the shoes I want for myself Made of un-conformism and Defined symmetry. Oh, Indian girl, though your race is Painted in translucent vivaciousness on The walls, the blues of the skies, the oceans, The trees. Your expectant, unshocked expression that Plasters across the cross-stitching white Brings your dress to life and men To their knees. It’s quite the nymph-ish thing Impish queen With elegance in thy art. The smears on your gown Your halo-less crown Speak volumes of you in My heart.
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The Woman and Her Child
By Rossi Walter ’10 Once on the bus traveling due north sat a mother and her child She was thin and it was quiet Her face was strong, like yours, her soul was strong, like yours. Her love for that child was great, like yours for me. Then came a pain and I fell to bits Reminded of what I’d left. I struggled against my tears and fought back sorrow Fighting with all my soul against your memory, Which taunted me like flickering fire. The emaciated woman and her empty baby, That is our story, O Mother. All the love had that child sucked from your teat To fill something inside that would forever remain gone. Never again would it cry for you, Only because of. Cannot stumble here, I thought I was safe inside my head But I woke up to this fallen spirit and her stroller, full of her life And that now carried her pain. Opened wounds pour out blood and tenuous scars repeat its howl… Once on the bus now following the sun Sat a monster and her offspring. She was jagged and it was disfigured by both her and the hurt she breathed The surface of her eyes wrought confusion, while forcing blood-pity each time. The contort of its neck lay gently on her bone. Close my eyes and hold her close, Afraid of spines and old skin.
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Ben Galichia ’10
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Ben Galichia ’10