Contents Poetry Miles Okamoto 1 Michael Wischmeyer Alex Garcia 3 Bruno Brenes 4 Payton Bilgere 9
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Prose Mathew Mancillas 10 Robert Hillsley 11 Alex Lengyel 12 Sean Tehan 14 John Lindberg 16
Artwork & Photography Alex Kurilecz Cover Colton Hart 1 Sam Eppich 2 Will Courtney 3 Luke Gonzales 9 Mathew Wrobel 10 Alex Bryan 11 Joseph Buskmiller 12 Evan Hargrave 13 Dimitri Robles 15 Editor John Wengierski ’16 Moderator Mr. Ian Berry ’07
The Jesuit Journal aims to provide students interested in creative writing and visual art with a space to showcase their talents.
MILES OKAMOTO ’17 SI PUDIERA...
IF I COULD...
Si pudiera ir a cualquier parte, tal vez yo iría a espacio. Y si fuera, no sería reacio a vivir en una casa en Marte.
If I could go anywhere, maybe I would go to space. And if so, I would not be reluctant to live in a house on Mars.
Si pudiera tener cualquier carro, querría coches en un gran acopio de que conducir en su propio. En unos años, no será bizarro.
If I could have any car, I would want a big collection of cars that drive on their own. In a few years, it will not be bizarre.
Si pudiera tener cualquier trabajo, sería letal agente secreto. Tendría lo mejor de cada objeto, y me honrarían en un agasajo.
If I could have any job, I would be a deadly secret agent. I would have the best of every object, and I would be honored at a celebration.
Si pudiera hacer cualquier cosa para mejorar todo el mundo, querría hacer algo profundo: daría a gente triste una rosa.
If I could do anything to improve the whole world, I would want to do something profound: I would give all of the sad people a rose.
Artwork by Colton Hart ’16 1
MICHAEL WISCHMEYER ’16 Poem about my life
Poema sobre mi vida -rima asonante
I am from Mexico and Switzerland I am tall and I like to fly (on airplanes) I have a mother and a father I live with my family in our house
Soy de México y Suiza Soy alto y me gusta volar Tengo una mamá y un papá Vivo con mi familia en una casa
I have friends all over the place Sicily and Mexico are examples I want to attend Clemson university It is very far, and that is where I would have to live
Tengo muchos amigos en todos lados Sicilia y México son unos ejemplos Clemson es la universidad a la que quiero asistir Está muy lejos, allí tendré que vivir
I will work on a ranch in the summer this will be my second year My favorite animal is the cow For all that is a surprise
Trabajaré en un rancho este verano Esto será mi segundo año Mi animal favorito es la vaca Para todos es una sorpresa
Artwork by Sam Eppich ’18 2
Artwork by Will Courtney ’19 ALEX GARCIA ’17 Un niño de dos padres mexicanos Le gusta dibujar El fútbol lo ama Pero es un poco extraño
A boy from two Mexican parents He likes to draw Soccer he loves But he is a bit weird
Santa Rita fue su segunda casa El paso siguiente es cruzar al lado Un cambio lo opuesto de malo Una escuela sin niñas, ninguna
Saint Rita was his second home The next step was to cross over next door A change that is the opposite of bad A school without girls, none Two parents, a sister, and a dog Raised in Dallas for all of his life In Plano an aunt and an uncle The rest of his family in Mexico
Dos padres, una hermana y un perro Crecido en Dallas por toda su vida En plano un tío y una tía El resto de su familia en México
He wants to graduate and go to college But he has a year and a half before he finishes He loves the environment at his school He hopes to stay in Texas or fly north to study
Quiere graduarse e ir a la universidad Pero tiene año y medio antes de terminar Disfruta del ambiente en su escuela Espero quedarse en Tejas o irse al norte para estudiar
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BRUNO BRENES ’16 POTENTIAL Have I slept through my youths most fruitful years? Or coasted in a stasis as time passed? Did I disengage to avoid my fears? If so, I lose, hopes of redemption bashed. Wasted potential a scar on my mind Like a rancid aftertaste it lingers That I missed my chance and I won’t soon find joy that once flowed from me through my fingers Am I the vestige of what could have been? The shell of potential greatness in man The things I could have shown, and the world seen Erased by my doubt for I had no plan. However, I have yet to expire If it is too late, I won’t regret it For if I succeed, someday I’ll inspire Some lost soul to fight on and not forfeit For though I had been asleep, I’ve woken And though I’m rusty, I’m still not broken SELF Tis’ a miserable disgrace when man Attempts to race pretense before real self Futilely, for swift Truth quickly outran The slow facade which exhausted herself Like a bold painting not properly primed, Harsh time and nature, the pigments incite To crack and fade cruel art unrefined Candor flowing from black chasms contrite Yet, beauty hides inside small human flaws Like the fine smiles one dons atop frowns To pretend to enjoy the lot one draws For, rarely are we presented with crowns But, strong we fight against the throes of life Ignoring the pains, embracing the strife 4
About the Author... Journal: When did you start writing poetry? Brenes: I started probably around 4th or 5th grade. I had a teacher who introduced me to a lot of great authors, and made me want to be like them. Like Madeleine L’Engle, A Wrinkle in Time...And those writers were just amazing. J: And yet L’Engle isn’t a poet. Brenes: Yeah, no, it mostly just started with a love for literature in general. But then through trialand-error I kind of figured out that stories were not my strong suit, but when I kept it somewhat shorter I could fit the ideas that I wanted to in less words, so in that way it’s more efficient, you just have to read more in-between the lines sometimes. J: So, what appeals to you most about poetry, over prose? B: I think poetry...For one, it’s the efficiency thing. In a book, you have the main ideas, and you show them through interactions that people have with each other-there’s some sort of driving force, right? But with a poem, there doesn’t necessarily have to be a driving force, it can just be like, an observation--for example, of nature: through the way the trees move or the way the sun shines on something, that sends a message of hope or something. So I think what I like about poetry is that it’s not immediately obvious. A lot of times you have to look for it. And I’m sure there a lot of poems by “the greats” for which the original intent has yet to be found, because poetry is another art form, kind of like music, for which the beauty is in the eye of the beholder. One person might place more meaning on something in a poem that another person might not catch. Poetry has almost, perhaps, this esoteric nature, you know? J: So there’s a mystery about it? B: Mm-hm. J: Do you think that it’s the reader who has a role in determining the meaning, though? B: For sure. It’s like, if you had a treasure, and you die, and no one else knows where it is, then if no one ever finds it, then that treasure has no value. So in the same way, if you write a poem that you think is a great work of art and no one ever reads it, then… You can’t impose the value that you have for a poem onto another person. They have to discover it themselves. And it’s like playing telephone: each person is going to hear a slightly
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different message, but there’s no correct answer. J: A poem has a meaning large enough to accommodate a few different interpretations. B: Exactly. Yeah. J: What is it that inspires you? B: I don’t know. Sometimes I’ll have a moment when I know I’d like to write [but] I usually don’t know what I want to write about. I [usually] just feel something in my subconscious that’s saying, “Hey, you’re having a little creative revival right now, so you should write something,” and then I do. But also, sometimes, during my classes, if what we’re talking about especially interests me, I’ll start writing something down. J: So sometimes what you’re learning inspires deeper thought. So, would you say you believe in, “the Muse”? B: Oh, for sure. J: You believe in inspiration. B: Yeah. You can’t really force it. There are times when I try to, and it doesn’t really work out. J: How do you organize or give structure to that inspiration? You can’t predict when it’s going to happen, but when it does, how do you get it on paper? B: I have a journal that I carry with me. For example, if circumstances don’t allow that I write down the whole poem with the time I have, I’ll at least write down the idea--which I wish worked better, because a lot of times I’ll write down the idea and never come back to it, or if I do come back to it, the “Muse” is just not there anymore. But a lot of times it’s just convenient timing. It’s kind of like...well, you always hear Theology teachers say, “Well, you just have to be quiet, and then the Lord will speak to you,” you know? And so a lot of times I get those creative moments when I’m more relaxed. But even when the Muse is there, sometimes you’re just not satisfied with what you write! (Laughs) J: How often do you revise what you write? B: Pretty often. Pretty much every time I look at a poem I find something I’d like to change or make better. J: So there’s a “muse,” but there’s also an intellectual process? B: Yeah, for sure. Because a lot of times the inspiration gives you the idea, and then [you have to] figure it out on your own. J: In this issue, we’re publishing several sonnets that you’ve written. I’d like to ask: why do you like the sonnet? B: The sonnet is very organized. [...] For one, I’m a person that likes order, but it’s also really fun, when you have a really defined structure, to break the rules. Because by breaking the rules you can say a lot more than if you just follow them, because it brings attention. I remember I was reading a poem once, and it had followed the meter all the way through, and then on one line--I think it was right after the volta (the turn)--it had one extra syllable. So it had 11 syllables instead of 10, and the word was “lone.” So the word “lone” was alone [...]. 6
C’EST LA VIE Mute I must abide to Temptation’s call, My mind a vault of mindless fantasy. I fear the effects of her withdrawal I ask, dear friend, is it my destiny If my declaration were to please her Unrequited my wretch’d love would remain So deep inside my fondness will fester Thus my perfervid love I will restrain Yet, is this fate truly so unpleasant? Ignorant of my love she enjoys life If she can be loved without me being present then I can sustain this dejected rife Her happiness takes foremost precedence Her smile mitigates my lone repentance.
SUBTLE CRIES As she softly spoke, he could only note The waving quaver in her solemn voice, As cries wildly struggled to flee her throat Joined by vanguard tears, rejecting her choice He felt such pity for her at that time For, her pain she could not truly disguise He then hoped her dejected weeps would chime So she’d be released by storms in her eyes But, stubborn despondency seems endless He desired to stymie her true despair But her spirit impeded all progress Rending him useless despite constant prayers For pain has no cure, except that of time Making life an intolerable grime
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It was out of place. So, 11 is kind of ugly, but [in the context of the poem] it was kind of a rebellious act. You’re like, “Oh, he’s really trying to emphasize how lonely he is.” J: You mentioned the volta--the turn--, the moment in the sonnet where the speaker’s perspective changes. Do you know, when you start writing, what sort of “turn” you want to create, or do you discover that as you write? B: I usually discover it. My poems are usually driven by passion: for example, one of my poems [“Have I slept through my most fruitful years] is about not reaching your potential--or at least that’s what I wrote it to mean. I was feeling as if I had missed my prime, and was concerned that it was sort of all downhill from there. So I wanted to write this poem, but I only knew what I wanted to say in the first and second quatrains. Because in the first quatrain, you’re supposed to introduce an idea, and in the second quatrain you develop it. Since I’m passionate about the idea, it’s pretty easy to do so. But then the volta sometimes forces me to think, or to look for the silver lining in a way. I look for hope with a topic that I’m pretty concerned about. So, it almost forces me to not be myself, and to think in a more positive way. J: So writing for you is an intellectual process, but it’s also sort of a discipline. It makes you think in a way you’re not expecting. B: Yeah, and for me it’s really useful. You know, some people meditate and some people draw, and they express themselves that way, but for me, my calming process is the volta, because it forces me to give [things] another perspective, or to look at qualities in myself that I tend to ignore. J: So the form, rather than restricting your reflection, actually encourages it. J: What advice might you give to other people who are interested in writing? B: I think the best thing I can say to advise someone who’s attempting to get into writing or continue working on it is to do, well, just that. Continue working. [...] In Mr. McGhee’s class, I’ve talked about disappointment, and how if someone is disappointed, it means that they believed there was potential for something better… And so if you’re disappointed, if you give up too soon, you’ll never find that potential. But if you keep working, you just might have that “black gold” moment where [inspiration] starts, like raining all over you. (Laughs) That’s why I’m thankful for my teachers, like Mr. Berry, or Mrs. Farrell. Mrs. Farrell was really one of the first teachers to encourage me: sometimes I’ll be unable to decide between one or two quatrains I’ve written, and she’ll tell me what she thinks and be really honest, which I really appreciate. J: And your current project? More sonnets? B: Well, I don’t want to be like a one-trick pony. I want to be able to express myself in more than way, so [lately] I’ve been writing more free-verse. [...] We’ve been talking in our English seminar class about Cormac McCarthy, and so, this [idea] that the thing we fear the most is a total lack of control. So, for me, [free-verse] is like facing a fear. Seeing what I can make with a “no-format” sort of environment. They say that the world was born out of chaos, so... J: Bruno Brenes: order and chaos…a potential autobiography title, there. B: (laughs)
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PAYTON BILGERE ’19 Way back in time So very long ago, Though I’m not sure how long I wish I could know.
“I demand my squire!” Sir Nicholas had said, “I have vanquished the flame And I’m not the least bit dead!”
There lived a brave knight, Among the best of the elite. He was swift with a sword, And light on his feet.
“Very well!” The King shouted His acknowledgment made “You have completed my task, And you shall surely be repaid!”
His name was Sir Nicholas Of Worcestorshire. He wasn’t an honest man, His pants were literally on fire!
So, Sir Nicholas Dishonest and brave, Set off with his squire, And his legend he paved!
One fine, crisp morning In the middle of spring, Sir Nicholas requested The presence of the King. The King saw him through, And asked what he required. To which Sir Nicholas responded “Only but a squire!” The King contemplated the request He pondered through and through. Then the King finally reached his decision. “There is something you must first do!” “Although you seem Of the most noble type, It appears your trousers Have been set alight!” “In order to receive Your most requested boon, You must extinguish this fire, Or you will surely meet your doom!” Our dishonest hero glanced downward Viewing his scorched feet. Sir Nicholas felt confident, It would be just another feat.
He flopped and waggled, And rolled up and about, All across the King’s court Until the fire was surely out.
Artwork by Luke Gonzales ’18
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“Showing Writing.” No student in our school can hear these words without remembering a specific moment in his Jesuit career, whether it be a moment of great challenge, of creative achievement, or of frustration. Perhaps of all three. For the March 2016 issue, the Journal has reproduced here a few “Showing” essays which illustrate the skills Jesuit English teachers seek to hone in their students’ writing. While Matthew Mancillas’ essay is a response to the prompt “The man is old,” Alex Lengyel’s and Robert Hillsley’s “show” different scenes from the movie The Avengers. MATHEW MANCILLAS ’19 The Man’s Leathery Skin
The man’s nose, jutting out of his leathery skin, dangles a small collection of fat loosely from the
cartilage supporting it. From its tip, a glare of light reflects off of the lightly tanned skin and continues up the nose to the bridge. To the right side of the bridge, a dull emerald green eye sits deep in its socket, lying further back in the skull than the rest of the face. The upper third edge of the eye hides behind the curtain of a quickly descending, low-hanging eyelid. Further to the right, at the meeting point of the upper and lower eyelid, the eye approaches a sudden end, disappearing behind the skin. Under the eye, starting near the tear duct, a single wrinkle creates a profound ravine which gradually declines at a diagonal slope across the leathery terrain. Once it reaches the center of the lower eyelid, the ravine changes course at its lowest point, mid-nose, and begins to run parallel with the eye. As the ravine reaches the right side of his face, before the skin begins to curve, the solid impression of the wrinkle rapidly fades until it vanishes.
Artwork by Matthew Wrobel ’19
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ROBERT HILLSLEY ’17
The taxicab sprawls poised across the middle of the intersection at a forty-five degree angle. Frozen in a
left-turn position, a black rubber tire bulges from a bare metal hub as it juts out from the taxi’s left front wheel well. The taxi’s banana yellow paint emits a bright, just-waxed glow that contrasts with the patches of oil and dirt that coat the street. In black, seven letters in the formation “NYC TAXI” march in a crisp row across the clean yellow field of the driver’s side door panel. A thin layer of ash forms a powdery, uneven pattern of gray across the taxi’s yellow top and hood. A chunk of fist-sized metal joins bits of broken brick as it lies on top of the hood amid the dust, and a piece of chalky white cement finds a crevice to rest in at the bottom of the windshield. Suddenly, the taxi’s hood buckles and pushes through the motor underneath, as a mammoth metal object hurls itself down from the sky and pierces through the yellow metal. Although the contact of metal on metal creates a brief shower of sparks at the moment of impact, a smoldering black hole suddenly appears and engulfs the center of the smooth yellow hood. Released from the grip of the taxi’s front bumper by a few lingering sparks, the metal object slides forward onto the ground. In the same split second, the taxi’s side front panel cracks away from the frame, and the loosened piece stretches over the top of the out-turned Artwork by Alex Bryan ’18
wheel. The front bumper disintegrates in an
explosion of metal mixed with red and white bits of glass as it plummets to the ground. Like a playground spring toy, the taxi toggles stiffly back and forth five times before it quivers to a stop.
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ALEX LENGYEL ’17
His dry, cracked upper lip separates slightly from the lower lip to reveal the Hulk’s stained yellow
teeth. However, this smirk quickly vanishes when the corners of his lips point downwards toward his chin. As his upper lip quivers under his large nostrils, he releases a loud and rumbling grunt from within. As this grunt begins to silence, the grey denim button-down shirt stretches in all directions, and the right pectoral muscle peeks through the three grey threads that remain between it and the open air. The threads tear from the right shoulder seam across the collar and down the chest, in a vain attempt to hold the dismantled shirt together over the bulging muscles from underneath the loosely fitting apparel. Cascading off his body, the dark, shredded fabric comes to a soft landing, one thin strand after another, onto the crushed concrete. The Hulk’s right hand clenches into a firm fist, starting with the right pinky, bending at the second knuckle, followed by the ring finger, which presses securely against the rough, wrinkly palm. As the middle finger and index finger replicated this movement, the thumb overlaps the index finger with the bend in the second joint and comes to rest on the third knuckle of the middle finger. Cutting through the air on a horizontal plane, the Hulk’s right elbow draws back past his shoulder. Then, with his right bicep tightening and bulging from within his green skin, he tilts his right wrist downward to create a 170-degree angle with his forearm. His left leg bending at the knee, the Hulk releases the tension in his right arm like a spring under pressure. Throwing his clenched fist parallel to the ground, followed by his right elbow and shoulder, his hand smashes into the enormous metal monster.
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Artwork by Joseph Buskmiller ’19
Artwork by Evan Hargrave ’18
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Each year, Mr. Profitt’s AP World History class challenges the brave students who selected the course. The course is designed to “foster critical thinking skills and habits of mind as students analyze the changes and continuities of human civilization across time and place. It seeks to look at the broad development of humanity at a more global level, and it focuses on many cultures and societies outside those usually considered part of ‘Western Civilization.’” This year, some of WHAP’s greatest have been keeping daily blogs about their experiences in class, sharing their insights and historical musings. SEAN TEHAN ’18 As much as I hate to say this, because I really dislike Columbus and our traditional view of him in history, but the Columbian Exchange was probably one of the top five most influential events in human history. Just a short side note: my grandfather, also an avid historian, ranks the three most influential even in human history as follows: 1) Jesus’ passion, death, and resurrection (to free man’s soul), 2) the Magna Carta (to free man from oppression), and 3) the writing of the Constitution (the perfection of the previous event to perfectly rule people in a fair and just way). I have always thought this is an interesting way to look at history and its broader image on how it affects men to do things like discover new lands, start the industrial revolution, or invent the printing press and so on. Anyways, back to the Columbian Exchange’s importance. The way the Columbian Exchange intimately connected the world to become one community, in which events could affect everyone, not just that one region. It has made the world what it is today, for better or for worse. We now live in a world in which we have to worry about the Greek economy because if they collapse, then the European Union breaks down, then our economy is affected, as well as Russia and China, and every other country on the planet. But before this time, the whole Afro-Eurasian Region could have burned to the ground and no one would have even known about it in the Americas, and vise-versa. John Green makes a great point, namely that before this moment in history, we did not have world history, just the study of individual regions who just so happened to collide with one another every once in awhile. Now, a butterfly flaps its wings in New York, and the effects can be felt all the way in Beijing. And we are still evolving on this system. My father used to have to wake up at 3 in the morning to trade on the opening of the Asian markets; now he can do it from his chair in our living room whenever. We used to have to sit on a boat for a month to travel the great lake of the Atlantic; now we can get there in several hours, and can send a message there almost instantly. But there are so many smaller things that have arisen that I would like to briefly talk about. You walk into a restaurant, see the gardens painted onto the walls, the open wine cellars sporting everything from fancy wines to box wine quality drinks, and you smell the sweet aroma of tomatoes and garlic. You sit down at the table and they put the bread sticks in front of you and you realize, like a child who was just told of the fiction behind Santa’s story, that you are not at a fancy Italian restaurant but an Olive Garden. Well those tomatoes you smell, a fruit or vegetable depending on who you ask, that are so vital to Italian cuisine are not actually Italian. They were not introduced into the European world until the 15th century, but today are synonymous with Italy. The impact of the Columbian Exchange is also so crucial to the history of the Irish people. First, and most obviously, the potato, the distant rhyming cousin of the tomato. When we think of the Irish, we immediately think about potatoes and leprechauns. I myself, from a mostly Irish family on my dad’s side, eat a lot of potatoes and know they are most likely going to be a part, somehow in some shape or form, of every night’s dinner. Potatoes have always been a staple of the Irish diet as they were easy to grow, hardy plants, and interestingly enough, in theory, a person could live off only potatoes and butter for their whole life. But just like tomatoes, potatoes come to the great Irish people on a boat, from the New World. And then I would be stupid to not talk about the most influential part of that, immigration. Due to diseased potatoes, huge numbers of Irish peoples moved from Ireland, to the New World, now called America, to live in a new, free society in which anything was possible. If it was not for my great-great-grandfather Thomas Tehan traveling here in the 1870s, I would not be writing to you now. So in a way, thank you Columbian Exchange. But..... 14
We cannot lose track of the holocaust in all of this. Every since the Columbian Exchange, billions of things have been lost. I could list so many things, but the scary part is that due to Columbian Exchange, so many species, that were and are still unknown, have been lost. And of course the death of millions upon millions of Native Americans and other indigenous peoples who were just massacred in the following years. They did get a little revenge with infecting the catalyst to all this, Columbus, with syphilis, which ultimately led to his painful demise. The world has changed so much as we have tried to colonized this world and make it our own. We do not know the full effects of the Columbian Exchange, but we do know it has been unmistakably brutal to the world, its peoples, plants, and animals. And one day, hopefully not our children.
Artwork by Dimitri Robles ’19
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JOHN LINDBERG ’18 If you do not learn from you’re mistakes your doomed to repeat them; that is exactly what happened to me on the Chapter Four reading quiz today. As we all know, questions from previous chapters are re-used on our new reading quizzes to make sure we do not forget earlier learned information. I often find myself in a cycle of over-studying for the current chapter, forgetting to study the old one, and then drawing a blank when the quiz is passed out. This cycle re-occurs every time we start a new chapter, and I am working on finding the best way to study old material. Speaking of cycles, Chinese Empires repeated a unique cycle of their own following the same basic steps: the Chinese dynastic cycle. The pattern of the Chinese Dynasties coming and going was called the Chinese Dynastic Cycle. The way that the cycle functions always begins with a new Emperor coming into power. He/She usually makes the lives of people more efficient by reducing taxes, enlarging the middle class, and encouraging farming. Although this sounds perfect, a war or outer invasions, one way or another, take place. While these attacks occur, the previously flourishing economy slowly deteriorates, causing the poor and middle class to lose respect for him. Groups of rebels slowly increase and eventually they attack and defeat the Emperor, thus beginning a new dynasty and cycle of their own. As well as a distinct dynastic system, I was also intrigued by China’s elaborate and unique “class” system. Their class system acted as way to organize and order their civilians in groups of power. The class system contained four main groups: Scholar Gentry (land lords), Warriors, Merchants, and Peasants. At first glance, if I were to rate these in a order of lowest to highest power in society, Peasants would be at the bottom, then the Warriors, Scholar Gentry, and finally the Merchants at the top. Although this order appears to be logical, in the true Chinese Class system is almost completely backwards. First on the list of power comes the Scholar Gentry Class. This class primarily consists of large landowning families, which reflected their wealth from the land they owned and their privilege bestowed upon them because they are derived as government officials. Their great wealth and connections allowed them to easier access into the Chinese Government as well as other powerful roles in society. Perks of being apart of this class included no taxes, having a mini military, and almost utter control over the rest of the classes. Although this may seem confusing at first, below the Scholar Gentry class lied the Peasant Class. The population in China consisted of majorly the Peasant class, which tells that they were extremely diverse. Some peasants owned enough land to support their families and could perhaps even run a business on the local market. On the other end of this stick, peasants could have barely been surviving, and live in terrible conditions. All in all, peasants lived a pretty tough life. They had to weather famines, floods, droughts, hail, and other things that could suddenly wreak havoc and disrupt their life. As you are reading this you may be thinking: how is the Peasant class even ahead of the Soldiers and Merchants? The simple answer to this is that they were greatly looked down upon for several reasons. One reason that the Merchants and Soldiers were at the bottom of the class system is that they were both feared and noted with a bad stereotype. Soldiers were known to be ruthless and dangerous so they were avoided and looked down upon. Merchants were known to be unproductive, greedy, materialistic, luxury-loving, and everything else unwanted in a Confucian based society. As shown in the Han Dynasty, Merchants were oppressed and ridiculed. For example, merchants were forbidden to wear silk clothing, ride horses, or carry arms, nor were they allowed to hold public office. Can you imagine what society would be like if we still lived by these social classes? What do you think about the Dynastic System?
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WE WANT YOUR SUBMISSIONS! We strive to highlight the creative talents of Jesuit students, whether in the form of drawings, paintaings, short stories, poems, essays, photography, or any other type of artistic expression. To do that, though, we need your submissions. We accept all school-appropriate creative works, regardless of topic, from all current Jesuit students. These do not have to be from a Jesuit art class, nor do they have to be new. Anything you have made or will make would be greatly appreciated. We hope to see one of your creations published in a future edition.
Please email all submissions to thejesuitjournal@gmail.com. If you have any questions, contact John Wengierski ’16 or Mr. Berry ’07.