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WINTE R 2015
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WITH THE CARD THAT OPENS DOORS IN 50 STATES
Capital BlueCross is an Independent Licensee of the BlueCross BlueShield Association
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capbluecross.com
Senior Editor Yaasmeen Piper and Magazine Publisher Christine Glover cglover@jumpstreet.org Graphic Design Megan Davis & Kristen Fava Cover Art Olivia Jean Allbritton
Senior Editor Yaasmeen Piper
Staff Writers Quadriya Cogman, Sydney Durand, Maura Jacobs, Noah Lee, Sydney Richardson, Kimberly Shaffer, Kasey Smith, Tyrena Whitehurst Contributors Taylor Bracale, Maryah Burney, Kahla Coleman, Cassandra Cuevas Zakiya Foster, Jackie Friedlander, Markila Johnson, Ellie Miller, Amy Palmer, Kya Wanner MISSION STATEMENT 1. To provide opportunities to regional teens to participate in all phases of the magazine publishing process, from writing and editing to graphic design, photography and marketing. Area professionals will mentor the students, providing them with marketable and transferable skills. 2. To provide teens with a magazine that promotes healthy lifestyles and highlights the tremendous opportunities available to them in Central Pennsylvania as students and future employees. The views expressed by the contributors of and™ magazine are not necessarily those of and™ publisher or Jump Street staff. We feel that it is essential for teens to have a place to express their opinions about their world.
EDITOR’S LETTER “You’re young,” they say. “This is supposed to be the best time of your life. What do you have to lose?” How about my self-esteem, hope for the future and overall sanity? The teen years are the most stressful period in life. With school, peers, and social media influencing our every move our stress level has skyrocketed. It’s gotten to the point that during our teen years all we want is a time machine to go back to being children. School work stresses most teens out. We are expected to perform well in certain areas that do not appeal to us. Statistics show that 60% of teens are stressed out at some point, with school being the leading cause of stress. We sit in our rooms alone with an immense amount of work haunting us on top of the test coming up tomorrow. So we study until the break of dawn just to manage a C. Finding a job as a teen is harder now than ever before. Most adults are now working in teen jobs because of money issues, making it even harder for us to find one. With no money, we put our hopes into scholarships (meaning we have to work harder in school to achieve them) and student loans (which means we’ll have a lifetime of debt). Along with the immense amount of school work, we also must deal with our peers. We all crave to be accepted. This creates chaos as we spend all of our allowance for a pair of jeans to impress the people who only think of themselves.
Founder Robert C. Welsh Jump Street is a nonprofit community arts organization that is dedicated to developing education and economic opportunities in the arts for all ages. Jump Street uses the arts to provide valuable career education and transferable workforce development skills to young people. Additionally, Jump Street provides arts programs for youth and adults, arts-based community service programs, grants to artists, exhibitions, and technical assistance to artists and arts organizations.
Capital BlueCross is an Independent Licensee of the BlueCross BlueShield Association
Social media, peers, school, college, and the future all taunt us in the back of our minds until that one point where we collapse. We wake up in the middle of the night thinking about everything until we break down sobbing uncontrollably in our pillows ready just to give up. But we don’t. To achieve excellence we work hard until that point where we look at ourselves and say “we made it.”
Yaasmeen Piper, Senior Editor
art direction & design Megan Davis www.hellomegdavis.com 717.350.1953
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Jump Street 100 North Cameron Street, 2nd Floor Harrisburg, PA 17101 1.717.238.1887 www.jumpstreet.org
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CONTENTS
p.15
awkward Ellie Miller
06 Oreo Maryah Burney 08 Doubt Sydney Richardson 09 First Love Quadriya Cogman 10 only way out Kailene Nye 11 Untitled Cassandra Cuevas
p.20 the cost
How Parents Fighting Affects Kids
Sydney Durand
Yaasmeen Piper
p.32
Student Dress Code 12 Amy Palmer Cruelty Free Makeup 13 Sydney Durand Secluded Inmate 14 Kya Wanner Meritocracy Expository 16 Noah Lee Stressed in High School? 18 Noah Lee
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p.49
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anxiety
Sydney Durand
p.35
Demons
Jackie Friedlander
Book Playlist 19 Yaasmeen Piper 90s Quiz 21 Yaasmeen Piper Interview with Sierra Lesney 22 Maura Jacobs Recruiting Dos & Don’ts 26 Maura Jacobs
Maura Jacobs
money saving tips Maura Jacobs
p.30 Don’t Go: Part 4
Zakiya Foster
28 Taking the ACT Kasey Smith 29 Types of Bank Accounts Maura Jacobs 34 A Love Story Tyrena Whitehurst
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36 Ms. Brooks Kasey Smith 38 Cuz He’s Black Kahla Coleman 40 Kookin’ with Kim Kimberly Shaffer 41 Kila’s Korner Markila Johnson 48 panic Yaasmeen Piper 50 Meet the Staff 52 Horoscope Sydney Durand
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a night in slow motion
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// yourself
“How come you talk like a white girl?
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You must be an Oreo.” It was my first day at a new school and that was the first remark I was greeted with. This statement has always constantly confused me. Every day when I look in the mirror the first thing I see is my chocolate skin. One thing I know is I am not white. I love being black and I love my skin. It may be ashy at times and have a bunch of dark spots but it has made me who I am. Although I fit the model for a black girl the thing that no one could ever get over were my tone and my mannerisms. Am I not “black enough”? I still continued to be posed with that statement on a somewhat daily basis by all types of people. Just because I’m not into “black girl stuff” and I talk like a “white girl” doesn’t mean I’m not black. That day my perception of myself was perplexed even more than it was before. For most of my life, I went to a private school across the river. I had always heard my dad call me an “Oreo” but I never was really able to understand the true meaning of something like that. I thought it meant it was someone who liked Oreos. According to urban dictionary an Oreo is “what black kids at my school are called if they aren’t intolerant and disrespectful trolls who hold up the hallway every day, in between class pushing pot and cutting the entire lunch line.” My first time ever really getting an understanding of this term was in fifth grade. I was at my schools’ after school program when I was talking to my friend and a group of high school kids that came and sat next to us. “You must think you’re someone special because you’re black, you retarded Oreo” jeered one of the boys. I continued my silence. My mom always told me that when someone insults your character, kill them with kindness and just keep your eyes on the prize. Would clopping that kid dead in his throat really be worth getting thrown out of school? Another one chimed in “Yeah! I didn’t even know you were black until I saw your skin.” I was plagued with fear. Why did people treat me this way? Would everyone I’d meet in the world judge and ridicule me so much because of what I looked like and how I spoke? I was so hurt that I picked up my books and ran out of the room. I went into the girl’s bathroom and looked in the mirror. I tried to keep my cool and just count back from a thousand. It seemed as though the harder I tried the more I became angry. My anger then turned into hurt; and PAIN. I felt a tear stream down my check. Then another. Another tear fell until I was on the floor of the girl’s bathroom balling my eyes out. I made myself presentable and I walked out of the bathroom to my locker. I got my
stuff and sat outside until my mom picked me up. The whole ride home I was deep in thought. When I got home I ran straight upstairs to the bathroom. I closed the door and I looked in the mirror. For a solid half hour, I gave myself an inner and outer evaluation. My posture is bad. My teeth aren’t white enough. My skin is bad. I should lose some weight; the not so uncommon nighttime regime. I took a deep breath and I exhaled slowly. I just kept doing that, slowly venting away the feelings of anger that I felt and I eventually let it go. I needed to let those feelings of selfloathing and the feelings of anger toward those individuals go. “They just don’t realize how different I am,” I thought to myself. Yes I know I speak “like a white girl”, but speaking like a white girl means speaking proper English and not popping my tongue. The next year I left that school and attended a different (more public)school. “So… You must think you’re better that us ‘cause you speak like a white girl?” I was being bombarded with a series of seemingly pointless questions. How does the way I speak determine who I am as a human being? “No I don’t think I’m better than you that’s just how I talk.” I responded. This was so stupid to me. I’ve just been taught to speak “proper”. From the time I was a little girl, I’ve always been told to enunciate my words and to not speak like I came from a highly urban area. I’ve always been an avid reader which has provided me with a somewhat extensive vocabulary. “I just really believe that you don’t need to talk like you da Queen of England; like why you gotta talk so fancy? I talk like this and people know that I’m smart.” “I’ve talked like this since I was a child. If you don’t like it, then there’s the door.” Over the years I’ve just spoken like that. “Maryah, you must always remember to speak with confidence. When you walk into a room, stand up straight; cross your legs when you wear a skirt and remember that you are fearfully and wonderfully made.” My grandmother and my mother have drilled that into my head since birth; being who I am isn’t just something I can change. When people meet me and hear me speak, yes there is something different about me compared to some other girls but I don’t want people to make biased judgments about me. I am not boojie. I have not forgotten “where I came from”. I just speak the way I speak. That doesn’t make me less black and more white. As I grow up and start to do more things, I just want people to understand that I’ll always speak proper and I won’t stop being who I am for anyone. So call me an Oreo all you want. I know who I am.
// yourself
“Maryah, you must always remember to speak with confidence. When you walk into a room, stand up straight; cross your legs when you wear a skirt and remember that you are fearfully and wonderfully made.�
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Doubt. Sydney Richardson, Palmyra Area High School
// yourself
My lifelong dream is to become a singer, a way to forget about the world, an escape. To get me that much
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closer I sing at an open mic night, every other week. Since I go to school and have other after school activities, sometimes I just can’t make it to these because I’m not ready for a performance, or I need to finish some school work. But every time that I don’t go, random bubbles of doubt slither into my mind. These bubbles, I call them, cause me to believe that I’m not able to do something. They are like stories that say I can’t and I believe them because it’s me telling myself this, it must be right. Right? Wrong. Try this: drop a book on the floor. You blinked. Unfortunately no, I’m not psychic, but I do know a little bit about your brain. As you dropped the book your eyelids instantly blinked, that’s your brain protecting yourself.
Believe it or not, that same part of your brain is the one making up these stories. The stories are protecting yourself from getting hurt. In fact all measures of doubt are all stories. But that’s the thing, stories are stories, they aren’t real. Since learning this, I’ve become aware of when I’m in story mode and I’ve been able to stop it...that’s powerful. Even if it’s not singing, it could be walking into a new class at the beginning of the school year,a major presentation you have to show, or even talking to a long time crush of yours. Whatever you’re going through, you have to throw away the stories and remember the facts. Let’s say I throw a pen and it hits you. The fact is I threw a pen, it hit you, the story that you’re telling yourself is that I threw it at you because I didn’t like you. If you stick with the facts all you will get out of the situation was that I threw a pen and it poked you. Another tip,
when dealing with nerves from presenting at school or in my case, singing in front of a crowd, just stick with a motto. For me, my motto is what won’t kill me, will make me that much stronger. Mottos are catchy and easy to remember, so if you need a boost repeat your motto to yourself; it’s amazing what little things can do. Self-doubt is the lack of confidence in oneself and one’s abilities. If it’s meeting new people, moving to a new school, or even auditioning for a team, you can control your own happiness. Period. You can decide for yourself who and what you want to be. I know it’s tough, putting yourself out there, but just remember the doubts you have are myths, you can choose your own path and you can be who you’ve secretly always wanted to be. Believe in yourself. Winks, Syd
Artwork by Sophia Beitler, Carlisle Christian Academy
searched for someone to love me. I wanted the love that a husband and wife would share. I wanted the love you see in movies. I wanted someone who would hold me in their arms, compliment me, or simply make me smile. I’ve spent the majority of my teenage life loving someone who didn’t love me back. He loved the materialistic things and money I had. I was too blind at the time to realize what was happening. I was falling head over heels for someone who didn’t feel the same way. My closest friends would point out the little details that just didn’t seem right to them. That’s when I realized that I was in love with the thought of someone loving me. A year ago I came in contact with my ex. I thought this time things would be different between us: more communication and interaction with each other. But it wasn’t. Everything that was absent in the past, was still missing in the present. He was the type of guy who depended on a woman to get the job done and do everything for him. He wanted money, shoes, clothes, etc. When I didn’t have it to give to him, he would get upset and throw a fit. He would go
find other girls to satisfy his needs, including my best friend at the time. I found myself in a relationship based on money; I didn’t want it to be like that. I wanted him to love me so I did everything in my power to keep him happy, to stay with me. I felt like I still wasn’t good enough so I ended our relationship five months ago. After that, I gave up my search for love. During these few months alone, I felt like a free woman. No boyfriend, no worries, no nagging, and no one to take care of. Once school started, I started to see one of my closest friends. We were like Cat and Dog from CatDog- inseparable. I sometimes wondered if my close friend, of almost four years, was the person I’ve been searching for all along. I’d never wanted to get my hopes up just so I could watch them crumble. There were times when I would go to his house and we’d joke around a lot. I felt safe when we were together. People in our neighborhood questioned our relationship. I told them that we’re good friends. I kept my mouth shut and wouldn’t say anything to him about the inquiries, the assumptions. I didn’t want him to get any idea that I wanted to be in a relationship- even though I did.
Three and a half years later- first as friendshe finally told me how he felt. One night we walked along the Susquehanna River. He started telling me that the first time he laid his eyes upon me, he liked me. I was speechless. I walked by his side and listened to what he had to say. He asked what’s up… I told him the dark blue sky. When he started to share his feelings with me, the situation became awkward, but we overcame those initial reactions. From that day forward, we remained happily together and still extremely close. Every teenager experiences love and heartbreaks. Some of us believe that kissing our significant other tells our feelings. But it doesn’t. It’s just something we tell ourselves because we crave to be loved by someone other than a family member. To wait for love may seem like a long time, but timing does matter. It’s better to wait for the right time, the right moment, with the right person.
// yourself
It took nearly my entire high school career to realize that love isn’t meant to be found. I’ve
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Only Way Out Kailene Nye, Lower Dauphin High School
// yourself
The boy walking down the hallway. You have seen him around school before, and he is even in one of your classes. The girl leaning against a locker in the same hallway sharing ear buds with a friend. You have seen her too, but you don’t have any classes with her since she is two grades lower than you. Both of these people are seen by your eyes every day and they always seem happy. As if their day could not get any better. But all of that, the fake smiles and laughs, is just a mask. They are nothing but a mere costume to hide the war that is going on inside each of them. Yes, that boy and girl who seem to be at their lives’ content are on a one way trip to their lives’ end. He wakes up like everyone else. Eats breakfast, greets his family, and gets dressed for the day. But deep inside he knows all too well he is not like everyone else. He does not feel like a “normal” boy should feel. He brushes it off, yet again, hoping it will stay away for good this time. Every day is like this for 19-year-old Bobby Griffth. Every second he spends inhaling and exhaling, the monster inside him is just waiting to devour him completely. Another day like this passed. And another one after that. Until the day he decided he could not live like this anymore. He looks in the mirror, then at the bottle of aspirin clutched tightly in his left hand, then back at his pathetic and lifeless reflection. Now he lays on his bed, seemingly unconscious and it is there he will lie until his older brother, Ed, finds him unable to swallow down his death. His brother demands an explanation and fear leaks from Bobby’s eyes. He can feel the war inside him progressing for the worst. He knows if he tells the truth, he risks every chance he has at a normal life. A ball of tangled up air particles escapes his trembling lips, and with that, the truth as well.
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“How could you? I trusted you!” screams Bobby. He has done stupid things in the past, but he can never forgive Ed for this. Thanks to him, his religious mother found out. The one person he did not want to know his secret now knew. The war was surely worsening. What would she do now that she knew her “perfect” Bobby was gay? It did not take long for him to be able to answer that question. He already knew what his future held. Months of religious and regular therapy haunt him like a demon just waiting to possess what is left of his soul. But the war has reached its turning point. With the discovery of his new boyfriend, David, Bobby has also learned what it is truly like to be loved and to be able to count on someone being there whenever he needs them. Or so he thought. He dialed his number five times with no answer. Trying not to worry too much yet, Bobby decides to go searching for David instead, maybe then he will get some results. He checks all over the small town in Portland, but it is not until he looks in the club where they met that he finds him. He is partying, as usual. Bobby decides not to bother him. To find out what happens to David and Bobby, visit and.jumpstreet.org
Cassandra Cuevas, Trinity High School There is a time in life when we are forced to make a decision: to embrace ourselves or to embrace society. Days turn into weeks,
weeks turn into months, months turn into years…the question remains, are we really happy? People in the world are led to think that if they don’t have the perfect beach body, the perfect skin, the perfect hair, lots of money, etc. then they are doing something wrong. Personally, I believe this idea is utterly ridiculous, in fact, backwards. Life was not created to try to be an exact copy of someone else. Getting caught up in trying to please society many times backfires because, honestly, there will always be someone who believes he or she is bigger and superior to you. Society says to be confident, but when someone calls themselves pretty, they call it conceited. Society says you have to be skinny and have that perfect beach body and a thigh gap, but when you start starving yourself to try to please society, society says you are selfish and weird. Let me tell you a story of the personal experience I had trying to please society.
The pressure of always stepping on eggshells to please my friends was getting to me. I thought people loved me, but they really didn’t and unfortunately I found this out the hard way. People started to give me dirty looks in the hall, most of which I didn’t even know. People would start to talk about me and rumors spread like a forest fire on a hot summer day. I wanted out. People hated me. I hated myself. I was anything but happy. I believed that I was a strong person, but every strong person can and will break at least once. I could no longer deal with my emotional pain. I knew how to deal with physical pain though. One day after school I was really upset and couldn’t take it anymore. That very day changed my life. I picked up a knife and began to hurt myself. It took away all of my emotional pain and made it physical, distracted me from myself. The next day, I did it again. I began to do it every day, sometimes more than once a day. On my very bad days I would have anxiety attacks and hyperventilate to the point of almost passing out. To make this long and miserable story short, my parents eventually found out and immediately took me to the trauma center to get help. I was sent to a partial hospitalization program and stayed there for about a month. I learned coping techniques that helped me overcome my desire to harm myself and regain my strength. I was put on depression and anxiety medications and then released. If I learned one thing at all, it was to please myself instead of society. Who cares if you have a nice car? Will people remember you for being pretty? Is losing yourself and faking who you are really worth it? The answer to all of these questions is NO. People put masks on every day, fake a smile, and walk away, but that’s not how it should be. Embrace yourself, not society. Are you happy? Who are you pleasing—yourself or society? I will leave you with this: risking your life, your real friends, your happiness, and losing yourself is not worth it. Don’t hide behind fake emotions. If you’re not okay, then don’t wear a mask that says you are. If you are happy, wear a smile. If you are hurt, don’t fake happiness. It is okay not to be okay. Are you wearing a mask or are people seeing the real you?
Artwork by Cassandra Cuevas
// yourself
Untitled
It was last year. I had finally made it. I finally fit in with the popular crowd. People loved me …or so I thought. All the guys wanted me, everyone knew my name, and I was invited to awesome parties. I had the biggest group of friends ever, but I was always under the spotlight. No matter what I did, people knew. Every little thing in my life was monitored by people because I was that girl. I was in the limelight. I started to lose myself in fake tans, fake nails, and trying to please my new group of friends. I was pushed into things that I didn’t necessarily want to do, but I did it because I didn’t want to lose my spot in the group of popular people. The first few months I loved my life. I thought my life was perfect. I was perfect. When I look back at this time I realize I really wasn’t… I was miserable.
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Student Dress Code: To Be or Not To Be? Amy Palmer, Lower Dauphin High School
This year LDSD staff and administration began the year by strictly enforcing the dress code.
Some of the violations include: shorts that were too short, exposed shoulders, low necklines, etc. There are many students who believe that dress codes are sexist and promote the objectification of women. School dress code was created to regulate what students can and cannot wear. Lower Dauphin’s school handbook states that “students are urged to emphasize cleanliness, neatness, and generally acceptable good
taste in their dress and grooming habits.” Though it has good intentions, many people argue that it only encourages sexism and objectification of women, especially since a majority of the rules are aimed towards women. “I believe there should be a dress code, but to an extent,” senior Alexis Moore said, “My shoulders aren’t a distraction to learning.” If a girl wanted to wear a tank top, she couldn’t, because it “would distract boys.” Rather than teach boys not to be distracted by girls’ bodies, it teaches girls that they have to accommodate what they wear for boys. The same can be said with shorts. According to the handbook “shorts or skirts must be mid-thigh, closer in length to the knee than to the hip.” Finding a pair of shorts that abides by these rules is nearly impossible. Similar to wearing tank tops, this promotes the objectification of the female body. Again, most schools will use the excuse that exposed legs will distract boys from learning. When the weather is hot, girls have difficulty staying cool and finding shorts that will fit the dress code. “Personally I think the dress code is not full out sexist, it just applies to girls more than boys,” Kailene Nye, sophomore expressed, “Girls have more options when it comes to clothing choices, so this puts more pressure on them in particular to wear what is ‘cool’.” Of course, the dress code cannot completely be abolished. There needs to be some limitations of what can and cannot be worn. For example, if a girl were to wear a pair of shorts that reveals her underwear, it is obviously not appropriate. Dress code rules should still exist, but
should also be more relaxed and teach boys to be responsible for their actions. “I think the school dress code at Lower Dauphin is a safe substitution to uniform. It still allows students to dress how they please and express their creativity through their clothing,” Brooke Loomis, junior said, “I do believe that the school dress code is necessary-- trends and fads in today’s fashion industry are not always school appropriate. Although, the shoulders of girls don’t distract my ability to learn, I do believe girls should be taught to dress somewhat conservatively... what you wear outside of school is up to you...however, I do not wish to see someone’s bare stomach or underwear.” For one, the rules for shorts should go back to one of the earlier rules for shorts: the shorts must be longer than the wearer’s fingers when their hands are at their sides. This rule is more realistic in that it allows girls to keep cool in hot weather, while also being easier to find in stores. Tank tops should also be allowed to be worn. There is nothing sexual about a woman’s arms or shoulders. “Our [Central Dauphins] dress code sucks! We can hardly wear anything, as a girl.” Central Dauphin senior Andrea Solenberger says. According to their dress code, shorts and skirts cannot be more than three inches above the knee, and jeggings and leggings are not allowed. It is understandable that there should be a dress code, and this isn’t to say that dress codes, or Lower Dauphin is intentionally sexist, but the rules should be more relaxed, and should be more fair to girls.
Sydney Durand, CASA Makeup is a huge part of most of our teenage lives.
However, many popular makeup brands test on animals. You may think, ‘Well that has nothing to do with me and my makeup, right?’ Not necessarily. “Right now, millions of mice, rats, rabbits, primates, cats, and other animals are locked inside cold, barren cages in laboratories across the country. They languish in pain, and long to roam free and use their minds.” Peta.org says about the controversial subject. “Instead, all they can do is sit and wait in fear of the next terrifying and painful procedure that will be performed on them. The stress, sterility and boredom causes some animals to develop neurotic behaviors such as incessantly spinning in circles, rocking back and forth and even pulling out their own hair and biting their skin.” The animal testing statistics are even more horrific. “The US Department of Agriculture (USDA) reported in 2010 that 97,123 animals suffered pain during experiments while being given no anesthesia for relief, including 1,395 primates, 5,996 rabbits, 33,652 guinea pigs, and 48,015 hamsters.” Reports animal-testing.procon.org. Luckily, you don’t have to support these horrible and cruel practices, because so many makeup brands are turning cruelty-free and vegan. Some great brands that are against cruelty are: A Girl’s Gotta Spa—100% vegan, Acure Organics, Alba Bontanica, American Apparel Beauty, Andalou Naturals, Antonym, Ardell, all Trader Joe’s products,
// your couture
Cruelty Free Makeup
Wet N’ Wild, E.L.F- all cosmetics are vegan, but not brushes, and Lime Crime—100% vegan. If you want to see a full A–Z list of cruelty-free/ vegan makeup brands, check out logicalharmony.net. The best part about all of this? Most of these brands can be found in the Dollar Store or Five Below. How great is that? Cruelty-free without the insane cost, and that is a true win-win situation. If you want to help out further, which is fabulous, you can get involved with peta2.com or peta.org. These partnered websites fight for animal rights, have so many campaigns against animal testing, and have options that allow teenagers to get involved. Some brands to avoid, however, are: Avon, Sally Beauty Supply, Cover Girl, MAC, L’Oreal USA, Lux, MAC Cosmetics, Mary Kay, Maybelline, EcoLab, and Herbal Essences. To see a full list of companies to avoid, you can go on www.thevegetariansite. com/ethics_test.htm. So, clearly these companies know how disgusting animal testing is, so why are they doing it? Some say that animals must be used in cases when the ethical considerations prevent the use of human subjects, but it’s just as unethical to take an innocent life and turn it into a lab experiment. Another reason given is that animals often make better research subjects than human beings because of their shorter life cycles. One of the last controversial reasons is that religious traditions allow for human dominion over animals, and while some religions may support that, it still doesn’t justify ending an animal’s life over your lipstick. One of the biggest things you can do is NOT buy any products from companies that test on animals. By supporting them, you are thus supporting their labs. Instead, support the cruelty-free and vegan companies, to show that you support humane makeup. Animal testing shouldn’t prevent you from rocking your favorite red lipstick, Lime Crime Velvetine in Red Velvet, or wearing your long, luscious false lashes, Ardell Fashion Lashes in 107 Black. It should be something to motivate you to take a stand for something you may be passionate about, makeup! In the meantime, while many people are trying to making animal testing illegal, enjoy all of the great vegan and cruelty-free makeup options you have available!
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Secluded Inmate Kya Wanner, Susquenita High School
// your domain
Walking into the building with windows lined up next to each other outside made me miss the South even more than I thought I would. Teenagers talking and
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mingling about what their summer consisted of was nothing more than memories that flashed back into my head. I was the new girl and the new girl is always hidden with secrets. I crept along the hallway trying to find my first period class. I was bewildered with how different things are up here. I forgot that I was born in Harrisburg and only been gone for two years but it seemed like an eternity. I became comfortable in Mississippi, with the fresh air, new friends; I got out of my bad habits and started a new life. But the way that the atmosphere felt up here was exceedingly odd, I felt trapped. I placed my hands on my forehead and leaned into them, then sighed with great relief that I’ll get through it. Skimming around the school was awkward, everyone was talking, laughing and all I could think about was crawling into my bed and crying. I had a lot going for me, despite that I’m a Junior with no friends, I have to get my credits up, I needed to find a safe place.
Susquenita High School was on the bottom of my list for safe places, I didn’t want to be judged, I didn’t want to be lonely, I didn’t want to live a life of regretting my high school years. Weeks passed and I finally found some people to sit with at lunch, my teachers seemed to be intrigued by my presence and I could finally write stories on Wattpad. I felt semi content but, my emptiness still consumed my brain. I was in a long distance relationship; it felt like the world was spinning with each text message I received read, “I miss you.” I couldn’t get out of that state of mind, I want to move back to Mississippi. But, I wasn’t allowed. My mother became worried about my lack of presence; I would hide in my room all night long and write. It relieved me from my inner demons that possessed my brain when I was alone. It was inspiring to reach three thousand readers on my one novel, Paw Print Love. After finishing my volumes and having nothing to do, I was invited to Homecoming, which made my mom hopeful. I dress hunted and went shoe shopping for weeks. I finally found the right dress. I went with my friend Chandler, we had a blast, even though we rarely saw each other that night until she and
Artwork by Madelyn Brodie, Camp Hill High School
I went to the diner at eleven o’clock at night. We were both so beautiful and stunning, it feels good to dress like a princess every once in a while. To get your hair, nails and makeup done makes you feel like you’re important for yourself. Even though I didn’t really talk to anyone and I haven’t gone out since, it felt somewhat amazing and even like an optical illusion for that one night; that’s all I needed was one night to feel the rush of excitement again. Going to the Homecoming Dance lifted some weight and balance some of the chemicals in my brain. For one night I felt welcomed and home. As the school year is progressing with each new day, I realize that Susquenita High School isn’t so bad after all. I still wish to attend East High School where all my other friends are but, its for my own good that I stay where I am. I’ve made the right amount of acquaintances, my grades are mainly A’s and B’s and my teachers have grown immune to my presence. The new girl needs to keep an open mind to new opportunities and ideas in order to deal with change, it may be hard, but at the end of the day, it’s worth it.
my head that I’m oblivious to the world around me. When I come to, I usually find myself bumping into a lunch table. With my luck, it usually turns out to be the one I’m avoiding. Sometimes my weirdness gets me into more trouble than I want. In fifth grade I used to tie knots on top of knots on my sneakers. I’d just have a long chain of knots. My gym teacher used to stop class and tie my shoes for me. It was embarrassing, but I got out of running. I’d classify it as a half-win (half-wins are when I fail so hard I win). Even worse, I sometimes upset people without realizing it. Sometimes my teachers don’t understand. I do not try to zone out, but I just do. My sub-conscious has a mind of its own (see what I did there; it’s my
// your domain
Awkward Ellie Miller, Mechanicsburg Area School District
Day to day, it amazes me how awkward of a person I can be. Sometimes, I am so inside
mind, but it has a mind of its own, wink wink.) It pulls me in sometimes and I just can’t seem to get out. I zone out when I’m in the middle of a conversation, walking down stairs, and it seems like every other time it could possibly turn into a bad situation for me. What usually end up happening is that I end up with a pretty ticked off person or injure myself. I do have good traits—I promise, but even those have bad points. I’m a pretty good actress; I can hold my own in a play, but it also has drawbacks. Theater folk tend to be loud and showy. I tend to be very loud and showy and a card carrying chronic oversharer. I’ve basically used up a quarter of a page talking about me. These traits that are good on the stage; however, they give people, especially me, much pain. I can never keep my mouth shut, and if I’m thinking it, I’ll probably say it. Even if I don’t want to offend people, I will. I’ve learned all too many times that when people ask you if you think they look fat in that dress, you don’t tell them the truth. The flip side is that without my incredible oversharing, I would not act as well as I do. Or without my incredible ability to disappear inside my head, I wouldn’t be as quick thinking as I tend to be. Trust me, you need a good excuse to get out of some of the situations I have dropped myself in to. Maybe there are good things that come out of my incredible gift to be the most awkward person on the planet. I guess it just goes to show you, there is good in everything, even bumping into numerous lunch tables. So embrace what makes you awkward.
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// your cdomain
Noah Lee, Cumberland Valley High School
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Miguel Hernandez was rescued by border patrol agents on June 6, 2014. Fleeing the
violent drug war in Mexico, his parents sent him to the border with traffickers, asking Miguel to start sending money home as soon as he found a job in America. This driving belief that Miguel would succeed, because it was America, clearly shows that the United States is seen as a place rife with hope and fulfilled dreams. Our country is seen as a place where each of us can work hard towards our individual dreams and aspirations and our hard work will push us past the others. A truly noble idea at heart, this societal formula is viewed as the template to democratization and geopolitical advancement throughout the world. However, the growing side effects of meritocracy the doctor didn’t mention are beginning to show through the facade of success. With growing disparity and income inequality becoming hallmark troubles of today’s America, individuals are beginning to question the truthfulness and straightforwardness behind “the American Dream.” Meritocracies can encourage competition, and create vast amounts of capital, but there is a vast disparity in equality, and it is a false metric of pure hard work and determination. If we created an analogy for a meritocratic society, it would be a footrace with many people racing against each other. The referee would be the government, making sure that nobody cheats giving themselves an unfair advantage. Because everyone is playing fair and they are all running the same race, people will strive to do better than the others. They would push themselves harder to beat their opponents and run even faster. Meritocracies attempt to distribute income, wealth, opportunity, and power with less of an emphasis on birth. Citizens are provided with equality before the law, and open opportunities to those with the requisite talents. Meritocracies also attempt to correct for the differences in socio-economic class. This creates an incredible opportunity for vast economic development and fast growth for those who succeed. Those who make it to the top drive the society higher and higher, as evidenced in the United States’ Gross Domestic Product, which is two times higher than any other country in the world, according to the United Nations, IMF, and World Bank. The United States, which has been nurturing this system of individual hard work and meritocratic opportunity, seems to have created a safe haven for economic acceleration and upward mobility. Meritocracies achieve everything previous systems of society could not, until they reach the new stumbling blocks. Creating vast disparity in socioeconomic status, meritocracies are a false metric for hard work and determination. As 20th century philosopher John Rawls points out, this system could create an ever-growing divide between the rich and the poor. The Economist reports on May 23, 2013 that “income inequality in America has not risen dramatically over the past 20 years—when the top 1% of earners are excluded. With them, the picture is quite different.” The top 1% have seen an almost 400% increase in their income since 1979,
while the rest of America has seen steady seas. This is attributed to the fact that while meritocratic societies try to create equal opportunity, once an individual’s family and bloodline begin to achieve vast amounts of success, it’s much too easy for that individual to continue to succeed. But if one can’t succeed in the first place, it gets even harder to begin succeeding. This is the reason why corporations and CEO’s continue to grow their wealth as the top 1% of earners, while the rest of America nibbles on the leftovers. Although meritocracies may expand the economy, it isn’t increased in a healthy way. Furthermore, a meritocracy is not an accurate portrayal of the American Dream. Hard work is no longer the only requirement for success in modern America. Millions of illegal immigrants cross the border to the United States each year. They work harder than the average middle class man, and A LOT harder than Kim Kardashian, but these hardworking immigrants don’t get anywhere, and often don’t receive any recognition for being the ones barely holding our economy together. The modern American Dream should go more like this. “If one has a wealthy family, lives in an upper class neighborhood, is socioeconomically privileged, has ultra-involved and ultrasupportive parents, and is intellectually gifted, THEN one will succeed in America.” This revision of the American Dream represents the moral arbitrarity philosopher John Rawls articulates. Rawls states that the meritocratic conception of justice is flawed for the same reason as the feudal caste system is, except for being to a lesser degree. Individuals are being rewarded gifts based on the random act of birth. Most importantly, their skill or natural talent is rewarded based on the random act of birth. Reaching back to the analogy of the footrace, society has tried to station everybody on the same starting line. But, even so, it is clear who will win the race; the fastest runners. Usain Bolt is born faster than Average Joe. Stephen Hawking is born smarter than John Doe. And in a meritocratic society such as the United States, being athletically gifted, like Usain Bolt, or being intellectually sophisticated, like Stephen Hawking, are both keys to success. But Stephen Hawking being smart isn’t all his own doing. Part of his intelligence is simply because he was born that way. Stephen Hawking was born smarter than the rest of us. All of his success shouldn’t be attributed to his hard work, according to Rawls. The meritocratic system fails to purge the doctrine of wealth and income distribution that is determined by the arbitrary distribution of abilities and talents. These debilitating drawbacks of meritocratic societies paint the desolate picture of modern America. Meritocracies possess the very values that human nature strives to achieve. However, in the grand scheme of things, the arbitrary distribution of talents and abilities prevent hard work from becoming the pathway to success. Miguel Hernandez may work 20 hours a day for $3.75, but, chances are, he’ll never be as rich as Kim Kardashian. Although it’s an inconvenient truth, America must face up to the growing disparity and inherent misjudgment that exists deep within its society.
// your domain
Hard work is no longer the only requirement for success in modern America
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The Los Angeles Times reports on March 1, 2014 that “a poll of public school teachers finds that on average, high school students are assigned 3.5 hours of homework per weeknight.” Research proves
// your take
that homework contributes to higher achievement. But 17 hours of homework per week? It seems like high school students can be nothing but stressed, overwhelmed, and dull. However, stress derived from schoolwork in an average American high schooler’s life isn’t that much. The “stress” American high schoolers deal with now is an adequate and expected amount for students in a world-leading developed country. I ride the bus home and arrive at 3:45 p.m.. If, as the poll of teachers reports, I have 3.5 hours of homework, I will be done at around 7:30. On the glorious occasions of procrastination on large projects, I have 5 hours of homework. In that case, I would be done at 9:00 p.m. Even with extracurricular activities and sports thrown into the equation, I am still able to get in my bed by 11 p.m. As a clarinetist, debater, speech-giver, golfer, volunteer, student representative, and student journalist, I know what it feels like to be overwhelmed. Maybe the problem isn’t too much homework, but rather students wasting time after school or completing assignments at the last minute? I was born in New York, but moved to South Korea at the age of four. I moved back to the United States in fifth grade. I was astonished by the lack of homework and the abundance of free time I had. As an elementary schooler living in Seoul, I didn’t just go to school and study for a few hours then come home and play. When school ended, I would go to after school academic institution where we would intensively study math, science, reading comprehension, English and the Korean language. These after school institutions, called “hagwons” are no laughing matter. I stayed there and studied until 9 p.m., when I would return home and begin my school work. I was considered lucky by my peers, because most stayed until 10 or 11 pm. My parents didn’t
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Artwork by Darby Brown, Camp Hill High School
Stressed in High School? Think Again Noah Lee, Cumberland Valley High School allow me to go to hagwons on weekends, because they felt it was too much. My peers spent their whole weekends at hagwons. When my friends in Korea hear about my day, they are bewildered by the lack of homework I do. They finish school, go to hagwons, and return home around midnight. They proceed to do their homework, study for the SATs or AP tests, and finish their hagwon homework. When I came to Pennsylvania, I was moved into the gifted class. But the math wasn’t new. I had done it two years prior in my hagwons. This is showing in America’s performance in international tests. The 2012 Program for International Student Assessment shows that sits far below the average in math scores, at the bottom of the list, in 31st place; at 21st place in Reading; and at 24th place in science. The study states that “The math scores of students in Shanghai showed that they are the equivalent of over two years of formal schooling ahead of those observed in Massachusetts, itself a strong-performing U.S. state.” Students in China would beg to live the lives we do, yet many students in America believe that the world is falling in around them. I’m not advocating that we should study more. I am so glad I don’t live the life I lived back in South Korea. But the amount of homework and study workload we face in America is nothing compared to what students in China and other parts of the world face. Although it may seem like we are stressed and overwhelmed here in South Central Pennsylvania, students halfway across the globe would take our lives over theirs in a heartbeat. We need to think twice about claiming the cruel amounts of homework our teachers dole out when the only thing students in Shanghai and Seoul do is study.
BOOK PLAYLIST Factotum
The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer By Michelle Hodkin
By E. Lockhart
By Daniel Handler
The National About Today
Lana Del Rey Gods and Monsters
The Pixies Ana
The New Basement Tapes When I Get My Hands on You
The Neighbourhood Afraid
Dexy’s Midnight Runners Come On Eileen
We Were Liars
Glass Animals Gooey
The 1975 Antichrist
Active Child Hanging on
Phoenix Lisztomania
New Politics Tonight You’re Perfect
Melanie Martinez Carousel
Lorde Buzzcut Season
Maroon 5 Sugar
Chet Faker To Me
Blind Pilot Poor Boy
Flume ft. George Maple Bring You Down
Bastille Things We Lost in the Fire
Fleet Foxes White Winter Hymnal
Lorde A World Alone
Lighthouse and The Whaler Pioneers
The Beatles Happiness is a Warm Gun Alex Turner Cover of Tame Impala Feels Like We Only Go Backward Fleetwood Mac Albatross
Why We Broke Up
No Doubt Underneath it All Conner Thuotte Perfect Bright Eye Lua Claude Debussy Clair De Lune Glen Miller In the Mood Louis Jordan Knock Me a Kiss Eartha Kit Let’s Fall in Love
// your take
by Charles Bukowski
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Through the Child’s Eyes: How Parents’ Fights Affect Children Yaasmeen Piper, CASA Two am. A thunder of voices erupts from downstairs. It grows louder and deeper with each word. Every step you hear, every creak of the door makes you jump.
// your take
“Don’t hit each other,” you repeat. “Please.” Your siblings are sobbing into your PJs, terrified. “It’s going to be okay,” you remind them. You turn on the TV as loud as it can go. But, no amount of cartoons can drown out your mother’s screams. As a parent, fighting and arguments with your spouse are inevitable. However, it can have a strong impact on children watching and listening. “The screaming match lasted a while,” says Ali Gregory, a Freshman at Capital Area School for the Arts. “When it ended there was just this tense anger in the house.” A study, conducted by Dr. Gordon Harold on abcnews.com, a researcher at Cardiff University in Cardiff ,United Kingdom, show that if parents handle a disagreement the wrong way it can threaten a child’s emotional stability. “I remember one fight in particular, “ says 17-yearold Emily Amelia, a student at Capital Area School for the Arts. “They were standing on opposite sides of the kitchen screaming at each other. I was really young, and holding my siblings because they were throwing things, like pots and pans at each other.” Children, from the first few months of their life to the age to eight, are significantly impressionable according to author Maureen Healy. Everything in their environment registers in their minds like a sponge. “I imagined me as a submissive mom,” says Amelia, “living in a trailer house with an abusive man, and having a child and him abusing her or him. And me wanting to get out but, I would never leave. That’s how
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I thought my life would turn out when I was only ten.” The tension and constant bickering in a home can cause children to become more anxious, depressed, aggressive, and hostile. Some begin to lash out with anger and hostility, in school or even at home as a sign of needing attention. Others are reserved and tend to isolate themselves. Though they are quiet, this type of behavior should not be ignored. “I stopped believing in love at a really young age,” says Amelia. “It wasn’t until recently I started believing in it again.” Running behind closed doors and hiding from the fights do not help. Children can hear and pick up on tension in the room. Handling conflicts efficiently can help kids learn and understand problem solving skills.“ ...kids learn to compromise, compassion, and to use humor and warmth to solve disagreements,” Murphy says. “They also learn that conflict with someone you love is not the end of the world.” The key to keeping kids well-adjusted isn’t having a perfect, conflict-free marriage,” says Jenifer Goodwin in her article Fights May Have a Long Last Effect on Kids. “It’s in being able to control emotions enough to fight fair, and resolve conflicts in a way that doesn’t threaten the stability of the family,” they explained. Even if parents reject to show affective problem solving skills, it’s possible for children to learn on their own as they mature. They diffuse difficulties effectively to avoid reflecting their parents, which benefits children and future generations. “I’m still freaked out about falling in love or, having a family,” says Gregory. “It changed me as a person,” says Amelia.”I have more of a drive to get out and prove something.”
How Well Do You Remember the 90s? 1. What was the name of the high school on Boy Meets World? A. John Quincy High B. John Adams High C. West Philadelphia High D. Parkway High
6. What does the beeper code 07734 mean? A. Hello B. Goodbye C. I love you D. See you soon
2. What year was Google created? A. 1999 B. 1998 C. 1997 D. 1996
7. What was the number in Gerald’s shirt from Hey Arnold A. 44 B. 23 C. 33 D. 21
3. What was the name of the kid who traps Buzz Lightyear in his house? A. Alex B. Bennie C. Charlie D. Sid
8. What year was the playstation introduced? A. 1996 B. 1995 C. 1994 D. 1993
5. Which Disney show premiered in 1997? A. Boy Meets World B. Lizzie McGuire C. Smart Guy D. That’s So Raven
9. Which character on Friends said “Sure I peed on her. And if I had to, I’d pee on any one of you!” A. Chandler B. Monica C. Joey D. Phoebe 10. What is the name of this horror novel written by Brett Easton Ellis? A. The Room B. I am Legend C. The Shining D. American Psycho
// your take
4. Which 90’s TV show theme song started with “It’s a rare condition, this day and age, to read any good news on the newspaper page.” A. Family Matters B. Full House C. The Wild Thornberrys D. The Cosby Show
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ANSWERS: 1. John Adams High 2. 1998 3. Sid 4. Family Matters 5. Smart Guy 6. Hello 7. 33 8. 1994 9. Joey 10. American Psycho
An Interview with Sierra Lesney
year doing it. For future students, they have created an application for selection. AND: How did you get started in riding? SIERRA: I started because of my grandmother who had a farm. When I was two, I would go visit her and she would put me on horses while she was giving lessons to other students. That started me getting comfortable with the horses. From there on, I started showing and being more competitive. AND: Where has horseback riding taken you? What have you accomplished through riding? SIERRA: My first big event was when I was five. I showed here [PA National Horse Show] and I placed second in my age group. When I was eleven, I showed a horse competitively for a year for someone else which is called catch-riding. Someone approached me to ride their horse for them and show it in competitions. I qualified for the Zone 2 finals (Pennsylvania, New Jersey, New York) in which I placed ninth overall. In 2011, I competed in the United States Equestrian Federation Pony Finals, which is a nationwide event. In my age group I placed third over fences and seventh overall. Last year I qualified for this horse show [PA National Horse Show] but my horse got hurt so I was not able to compete.
Strolling through the halls of Cedar Cliff, Sierra Lesney (17) seems like just your average high school senior. She throws javelin
on the Track and Field team and tears it up on the rugby field. But little do her classmates know, they have a star among them. Sierra is quite the accomplished horseback rider, gaining national acclaim and competing in major competitions. Recently, Sierra served as Youth Ambassador for the Pennsylvania National Horse Show. AND had the privilege of sitting down with this talented equestrian and got to know a little bit more about her...
// your score
AND: What is your role with the PA National Horse Show?
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SIERRA: My official title is Youth Ambassador of the horse show. Leading up to the show, I work in the office where I do any pre-work they need. I help with ticket sales, choosing vendors, and send emails to sponsors. During the show, I help with exhibitor lounges, award presentations, and I do interviews with TV stations and newspapers. AND: How did you get selected for your position? SIERRA: It was created for me. This is my second
AND: How do you still manage to be a teenager and do teenage things with how involved in riding you are? SIERRA: Horseback riding has taught me a lot about time management. Along with riding, I do want to be a normal girl also. I’ve learned that if you really want to make it work, you’ll find a way. I can balance it out pretty evenly with riding and other things. AND: What are your future plans? Where is riding going to take you? SIERRA: Right now, a lot of people ask me to ride their horses for them competitively and that has been really helpful because it helps me fund the expenses of this costly activity. It is extremely expensive to compete at a high level. Now that I’ve gained the popularity to catch-ride for other people, people know my name. I plan on going to college and studying business so when I graduate I can get my own farm. From there, I want to ride professionally for people. I don’t want to train people to ride, I would rather just train their horses. AND: What’s been the biggest lesson you’ve learned through your time riding horses? SIERRA: To start, horses just in themselves have taught me a lot. Having to communicate with a horse that doesn’t speak your language and is way bigger than you has taught me a lot about how to
AND: What’s your best memory from riding horses? SIERRA: My best memories come from when I was little because I spent so much time in the barn. I remember being around five, being in the barn with my grandma for hours while she taught lessons. In the winters, I would sit in the jumps with her cup of coffee just watching her train all of our students. That taught be a lot by just watching. That taught me more than riding actually. AND: I’ve heard that you’ve met many famous people through riding. What’s your favorite memory of meeting a famous person? SIERRA: When I was eleven years old, I was at the PA National Horse Show. After the show, I was going around to all the trainers to get their autographs to put in my scrapbook. I went to this one trainer, who is one of the top in the country and I asked him for his autograph. He said, “Do you see that man over there in the white t-shirt? Why don’t you go ask him for his autograph?” I was confused but I went over there and he signed my booklet for me and he asked if I wanted a picture with him. I thought it was
Photos by Kristi Stahl, Cedar Cliff High School
creepy and told him no and slowly walked away. I told my grandma that she should probably go find an official because there was a guy who asked for my picture with him and I didn’t know why. She asked me if I knew who he was and I obviously did not. She said, “That’s Bruce Springsteen.” AND: You’re probably the only person to ever turn a picture down from him. SIERRA: Oops. But I redeemed myself! The next year, I went back and got a picture taken with him. AND: What other famous people have you met through riding? SIERRA: I got to meet Steven Spielberg because his daughter was showing in the same class as I did. Also, I was at a show in Maryland, and I was sitting at the in-gate and I looked to my left. It was Bill Gates. I was competing against his daughter in the class. I also got to meet Miley Cyrus’s sister and Kelly Ripa. AND: So we’ve heard a lot about your riding career, what other interests do you have? SIERRA: I want to be as well-rounded as possible so that when I get to college I have some diversity. At school, I participate in Track and Field and I play rugby for West Shore United Club Team.
// your score
have patience. Even with people, things take time and you don’t want to rush anything. I’ve learned it’s not always your voice that matters but rather your body language. There’s other ways to communicate that can be more effective.
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The Night in
Slow Motion Maura Jacobs, Cedar Cliff High School
// your score
“Let’s go Tate! Let’s go Tate,” the crowd chanted
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rhythmically as my brother took the mat. The atmosphere in the gymnasium was electric as my brother’s wrestling team took on the Spring Grove Rockets. Each team was fighting to get the crucial victory in order to earn a playoff berth and the match-up could not have been more even. Leading up to Tate, the competition had been very tough and the overall score was tied. It was essential for my brother to win to keep his team on top because he was the second to last match. Tate and his competitor shook hands, the referee blew his whistle, and off they went. Both wrestlers came out hard; each with a competitive fire in their bellies and the hope of a victory in their minds. “Two points,” the referee yelled out signaling a takedown. I leaned over to my mom, “He’s got this in the bag.” Showing her superstitious side she said, “Don’t jinx him!” Little did we know her superstitions were qualified. Tate kept his challenger down on the mat until he made his escape, putting them both back on their feet. The opposing fans burst into a loud round of cheers. Back and forth they danced around the mat; each trying to earn the lead. His contestant made a charge, grabbing
Tate around the midsection. He lifted my brother way up and as though it was in slow motion, I watched as Tate was dumped straight on his head. Tate looked shaken up but managed to make it into a crawl position. Like an angry bull, his opponent reared his head back and rammed it into my brother’s skull. Instantly, Tate’s body went limp and my heart dropped to my feet. In that very moment I had never been more terrified in my life. I instantly turned to my mother and could see the fear in her eyes. This was not the first time my brother had been knocked out, but I could already tell this was the worst. Face down on the mat, a huge pool of blood surrounded his head. I felt just as debilitated and helpless as his poor body looked. My mother and grandmother had hastily made their way down the bleachers. I felt alone and needed someone to lean on. My father was away on a business trip, and I wanted nothing more than to have him here. When my mother made it down to the mat, she collapsed on her knees and broke out in sobs. That is all it took. I lost all of my composure and started to cry. One of the wrestling mothers came to comfort me. As much as I did not want to look, I forced myself to peer down
// your score
at the mat. Thankfully, there was a crowd of medical trainers, coaches, and parents around my brother, so I could not see his injured body. I just wanted Tate to stand up and laugh it off like he usually did. But this was different. This was real. “Get him off the mat! He’s a wuss,” screamed a Spring Grove fan. “No, stay down, loser,” another bellowed. As if the situation was not already traumatic, the opposing fans made it incredibly worse. All night they had been obscenely rowdy, making rude slurs. They fed off my brother’s injury like a fierce lion preying on a wounded gazelle. The ambulance arrived and as they cautiously placed my brother on a stretcher, the opposing crowd booed. I began to shake with fear for my brother and contempt for those heartless people. I wanted to scream in their faces and tell them to be quiet. Over in the corner, his competitor was laughing and his coach was giving him a high five. I could not believe that they could be so cruel. Tate had regained consciousness and the blood and gruesome cuts on his head had been cleaned up. With unsteady legs, I arose from my seat to join my family. The medics raised the stretcher and began to roll my
brother out of the gymnasium, my family in tow. “Just keep ahold of my hand and avert your eyes from the crowd,” my mother murmured. As we passed by the section of savages, I felt a thick glob of wetness hit my cheek. They were spitting on us. The ride to the hospital seemed excruciatingly long. Frightening questions consumed my thoughts. Will he ever be able to wrestle again? Will he ever be able to walk again? Will he ever be able to even function again? As the ride drew on, my thoughts became worse and worse. I just needed to see that bright smile on his face and feel his tight embrace as he wrapped me in a bear hug. The car pulled to a stop in front of the Emergency Room, and I jumped out before my grandmother could even take the key out of the ignition. I sprinted to the entrance and was brought to a halt to wait for the automatic doors to grant me access. That would be the key theme for that night. Waiting. That entire night had felt like it was happening in slow motion. My grandmother and I sat in the lobby, saying little to nothing to each other. Every second that passed I grew more fearful that my brother would never be the same again. All I could do to pass the time was stare at the clock and count the times the minute hand passed the twelve. At thirty-six passes, Tate’s best friend’s parents arrived. At fifty-six passes, his teammates and coaches arrived. They brought the news of the match results. Since Tate could not complete the match, he was forced to medically default which gave Spring Grove six points. Despite a Cedar Cliff victory in the final match, it was not enough and we ultimately lost by three lousy points. As I looked around the room, it was nearly full of faces I recognized. Finally, as the minute hand passed for the ninety-fourth time, a doctor came out of the double doors with my mother by his side. I drew in a deep breath and tightened my fist in anticipation of his news. “Well, what a large crowd we have here,” the doctor said with a huge smile. “The good news is Tate is going to be fine.” You could hear a collective sigh of relief in the room. The doctor disclosed that they had done multiple tests and each had ordinary results. He had a minor concussion and had to get stitches. “He is a very lucky kid,” the doctor continued. “He was very close to suffering a brain stem injury that could have handicapped him for the rest of his life.” My worry and distress lifted off of me like an escaped balloon floating up towards the heavens. The doctor allowed my grandmother and I to go back and see my brother. Tears of relief flooded my eyes the moment I saw Tate awake and smiling. I attacked him with a huge hug and felt incredibly thankful for his speedy recovery. In Tate’s true competitive self, the first words out of his mouth were, “So when can I finish the match?” I learned that night to be thankful for my health and the health of those I love because everything can change so quickly. I also became aware of how not to behave when someone is injured. My experience with those disgusting fans showed me how heartless people can be. It was very emotional and scary for everyone involved, but at the end of the night all that really mattered was that my brother was safe. Plopping down next to Tate, I leaned over and wrapped my arms around his neck, “Don’t ever scare me like that again.” “No promises, little sis,” he said with a chuckle. I closed my eyes, let out one final exasperated breath, and all my fear finally melted away.
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Recruiting Dos & Don’ts Maura Jacobs, Cedar Cliff High School
Part 1: The Beginning, Researching, and More... For many high school athletes, playing a sport collegiately is a dream. Without the proper guidance and resources, it can be very hard for young athletes to navigate the recruiting world. It takes a lot of hard work both on and off the field, but it is possible for athletes to turn that dream into a reality. The following tips will help you get a start on the recruiting process.
DON’T: Just look at the sports program. In most cases, after 4 years you will be done with sports and what will really matter is the education you received (Less than 2% of college athletes play professionally.)
// your future
Fill out recruit questionnaire for hundreds of schools. You will end up wasting a lot of time that you could have been using to find out more about schools that you actually have the potential to attend.
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Look at schools just for their “name” or team history. Think about it... Would you rather go to a big, “better” school and warm the bench or attend a small, less competitive school and be a star?
Try to do everything by yourself. There is a lot of paperwork and logistics that need to be taken care of. Chances are, your counselor has done this entire process before and will be a great help to you.
Spend hundreds of dollars on fancy recruiting videos. Coaches just want a video that accurately displays your skill level. No need for the fancy effects and high-class production.
DO:
Consult others who have already been through the recruiting process. Ask them questions about how they did certain things and how they landed on their school. Talking to these people may teach you some very valuable lessons.
Make lists of schools you could see yourself attending. One list of dream schools, one of realistic schools, and one of fallback schools. Each can have 3 to 5 schools.
Make school your number one priority. Keep your grades up. You’re called a STUDENT-athlete for reason. Coaches want students with stellar grades who they are confident will succeed at their university.
Think realistically about what level you can play at. Make sure you think about not only your skill level, but also the time commitment you are willing to make to the sport. The higher the level the less opportunities to participate in other campus activities (greek life, study abroad, internships)
// your future
Start early. As crazy as it may seem, start looking into schools during freshman year. Start emailing coaches freshman year and setting up visits during sophomore year. 84% of Division I prospects are identified by the end of sophomore year.
Take the PSAT/ SAT/ACT early. This will give you a gauge of the schools you will be able to get into. It also gives you the advantage of being able to retake them more times if you need to get higher scores.
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// your future
Eight forty A.M. It’s go time.
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I break the seal on my test booklet and flip to the first test: English. Easy-peasy, I think. All my English teachers loved me. After sitting through the long, boring, menial introduction trademark to standardized tests, I’m actually eager to do what I came here for. The first few questions are easy: the purpose of the opening paragraph, which tense of had works best, and a few about sentence order. After I complete the set of questions from the first passage and move onto the second, I think the test will be all right. Surely I can get through all these questions. Nine thirty-two A.M. My assumption was wrong. Ordinarily, it would be easy math. Except I’m in an unfamiliar room with unfamiliar students, and I have only a minute to read, work out, and answer each question. Inevitably, I guess on several. At least I don’t lose points if I get a wrong answer. Or was that the AP test? Numbers and letters (because Algebra’s on the test like a recurring nightmare) blend together until I can hardly tell a distance formula from an improper fraction. I’m very careful with the letters I bubble in. If I have four A’s in a row or six E’s, then something’s wrong, right? Hmm, I haven’t bubbled in C lately. It looks like as good an answer as any. Ten forty-seven A.M. Reading. I’m good at reading, or so I thought. The prose fiction passage on the test is decent, for all its detailed description and lack of action (I never knew an author could find so many flowery adjectives for snow). The social science reading makes me lose whatever steam I gained from the fiction, and the humanities passage is about the shift from the Dark Ages to the Renaissance, which speaks for itself. The natural science section, a study in the food habits of penguins, doesn’t interest me at all. But tests aren’t supposed to be interesting, are they? This test is my enemy. The proud, straight-A student part of me wants to beat this test into submission and earn my place in the top scores. The teenager part of me wants to go home, put my pajamas on again, and bury myself in a bag of cheese curls while I scan Netflix for a mildly-interesting movie, avoiding Happy Feet like the plague. Eleven twenty-five A.M. By the Science section, I’m ready to leave. I pray for a car to crash through the wall, for the pregnant teacher’s water to break, for a sudden dust cloud to appear over the school and choke anyone near it. Anything to get out of this test! It doesn’t help that it’s all facts and figures. The test has exhausted me, from getting up at seven to come here on time; to having only ten minutes to shove two Poptarts, a sad stand-in for breakfast, down my throat; to attempting to thoroughly read four passages and answer forty questions all in thirty-five
Taking the ACT Kasey Smith, CASA
minutes, thanks to the last test. Where’s that freaking dust cloud of death? Where’s my salvation? Twelve thirteen P.M. The Writing test. The last leg to Mount Doom, where I can destroy this test like the One Ring. All the rage and frustration at the rest of the test fuels my pencil across the page, where I argue some B-list social issue. I’m on social media, I keep up on the latest scandals, and we have debates in my AP English class; this is easy for me. I can argue social issues like a pro. My pencil breaks, and I toss it aside for my backup. Now I’m a runaway train. One-oh-five P.M. I walk out of the school, exhausted but triumphant. The ACT and I dealt each other mighty blows, but I came out on top. No longer will I slave over Princeton Review guidebooks and practice problems; I am free. Now to get to those applications.
Types of Bank Accountsi Maura Jacobs, Cedar Cliff
Now that you have some money saved up, you can’t stash your money in your piggy bank or in a box under the bed. It’s time to deposit that money in the bank.The banking world can be quite overwhelming to a teenager. From saving to checking accounts, CDs to IRAs, what kind of account is right for us? This guide will break down the differences in accounts and hopefully show you which is right for your needs.
Savings accounts: Use this if you have a large amount of money that you want to save for the future. By putting your money in a savings account the bank will pay you what is called interest. Every account varies in interest rates but they all tend to be very low (less than 1%). The longer you keep your money in the bank, the more interest you will gain. The easier it is to withdraw money, the less interest you will receive. Shop around and find a bank that has the best interest rate and terms on withdrawals. Make sure you are realistic with how long you are willing to keep your money in the bank because some banks may charge an early withdrawal fee.
Certificate of Deposit (CD): Allows you to set aside your money for a set period of time at a set interest rate. CDs have a “life” that can last from just a few months to many years. Interest rates tend to be higher than a regular savings account because the bank is entitled to your money for a specific amount of time. Before opening a CD, make sure you do not need to use that money any time soon because banks often charge hefty penalties for early withdrawals. A CD is one of the safest investments a person can make. You are guaranteed to get back what you put in plus interest once the CD has matured. Money Market Account: An account that
pays interest based on the current interest rates in the money markets. In most cases, they require a higher balance than normal saving accounts but you will also receive higher interest rates. With money market accounts, banks can place restrictions on how much you can withdraw over certain amounts of time. Typically, you are only allowed to withdraw 3 to 6 times per month. If you have a larger amount of money, you should put it in a MMA instead of a regular checking account.
Individual Retirement Accounts (IRAs): Accounts that allow you to save for retirement. Now, you’re probably asking, “I’m a teenager. Why do I need to save for retirement?” But it’s never too early to begin saving for a comfortable retirement. These accounts are especially useful if your employer does not offer retirement benefits or if you want to save more than than they give. There are two types of IRAs: Traditional IRAs and Roth IRAs. To put it simply, you have to pay taxes on your savings now with Roth IRAs. With traditional IRAs you pay taxes later.
// your money
Checking accounts: This account is what you want to use for your daily transactions. It provides you with very easy access to your money. It allows for many deposits and withdrawals. In a checking account, you can get money out of an ATM, use a check, or debit card to pay for purchases and it will withdraw money directly from your account. Most banks offer checking accounts for little to no cost. Banks often offer many different options such as minimum balance requirements and limits on withdrawals. It is essential that you pick something that you are comfortable with or you could end up paying money to your bank for breaking your contract. Some features to look for in a good checking account include: no monthly fees, no limits on transactions, and no minimum balance requirements. Overall, choose this account if you need easy access to your money.
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Money Saving Tips Maura Jacobs, Cedar Cliff High School
// your money
For a teen, it is very difficult for us to save our money. From grabbing food with
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friends after the Friday night football games, to those awesome new sneakers that Nike just released, we have many temptations to spend our money. Often, it is hard for us to see past the things we are dying to buy right now. But to be financially responsible, it is essential for us to forgo buying these items. With these money saving tips, you will find a little extra cash in your piggy bank at the end of the day.
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Always abide by the “30 Days Rule.” If you are feeling tempted to buy an item, wait 30 days before you make a decision. At the end of the time if you still want it, buy it. If you’ve forgotten about it, it was just an urge in impulse buy. Added bonus: if you wait 30 days the price is likely to go down as well!
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Make a shopping list and stick to it! If you are going to the mall to buy a new dress for your upcoming school concert, do not return home with a purse and a pair of yoga pants. Don’t stray away from what you are there to buy.
Make coffee at home instead of hitting up Starbucks, Dunkin Donuts, or your local coffee shop every day. A cup of coffee brewed at home cost on average 27 cents, while a grande Starbucks coffee costs a whopping $2.29. That’s a huge savings over the course of the year!
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Rent a Redbox movie or buy a Netflix account rather than going to the movie theater. Redbox movies cost $1.20 to rent per night and Netflix has thousands of movies and TV shows available for streaming right on your computer for only $8.99 per month. The average cost of one ticket to the movies is $7.96. Think about it fellas: Wouldn’t you rather spend $1 to have a movie-night at home than paying a hefty price to take your girl to the theater? With the extra cash left over you can splurge a little by buying some microwave popcorn and your favorite sweet candy treat. For Central PA residents, you can also check out the West Shore Theater, a one screen theater that shows two movies per week for a cheaper ticket price of $4 or $5.
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Pack your lunch instead of buying school lunch. Avoid those dreaded Meatloaf Mondays and soggy sandwiches. Not only will you be saving money, but you will also eat much healthier.
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Sign up for a library card. Bye, bye Barnes & Noble, ITunes, and movie theaters! Your local library has books, music, and movies. All for FREE! Stop by the library to see what they have on their shelves. Also for those with eReaders, check your library’s website. They will most likely have free rentals for eBooks. You can read thousands of titles without paying a cent.
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Only pay for things with bills. When you get change back, put it into a jar. Over time, your pennies, nickels, dimes, and quarters will accumulate and you can turn those coins in for some serious cash.
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Sign up for rewards cards for your frequently visited places like Sheetz, Rutters, and Giant. These rewards cards will give you money off just by swiping them. By signing up, you will receive deals and steals that will help you save some major money. You can also sign up for texts and/or emails from your favorite stores. They will send you alerts whenever they have sales and special offerings. Also, take advantage of birthday deals at stores and restaurants. For example, you can receive a free brownie sundae at Chili’s and a 15% off coupon at American Eagle on your birthday.
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Drink more water. Not only will you be establishing a healthy habit, but you will also be saving a few extra dollars on your food bill. Instead of ordering a $2.50 strawberry lemonade, opt for “I’ll have a water please.” Your body and your wallet will thank you.
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Tired of that old sweater that’s been sitting in your closet since last Christmas or those gold heels you wore to homecoming that have been collecting dust ever since? Organize a clothing swap with your friends to get rid of some unwanted or outgrown items. You can pick up some new duds from your friends instead of spending a fortune at the store. Get a lot of people involved to vary your options.
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Visit the outlet/factory store of your favorite shopping stop instead of stopping by the mall. Everything will be cheaper than the fullprice retailers. These outlet stores also have big sales that add additional savings onto existing lower prices. For example, stop by the Nike outlet store to find a new pair of running sneakers instead of picking up an expensive pair at Dick’s Sporting Goods or Finish Line.
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Have a gym membership that you don’t really use? Tired of paying $20 per yoga class? Rid yourself of these expenses by streaming fitness classes online. Any kind of class that is offered at your gym can be found online, for FREE! Check out YouTube channels such as BeFiT, Yogasync.TV, and PopSugar Fitness.
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For teens, filling up our gas tank is a dreadful experience. We see our money disappear as the number of gallons we are pumping in the tank rises. Carpooling is a great way to make fewer stops at the pump. Take turns with your friends on who drives to practice or rehearsal. If you’re the only one with a license, don’t be afraid to ask your friends to chip in a few dollars for chauffeuring them around. Another easy way to cut down on gas is by walking or riding a bike whenever possible. Next time you are heading to your friend’s house four blocks away, skip the car and get some exercise by walking.
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Make homemade gifts whenever you can. Not only will it save you some money, your friends will cherish those presents much more than something bought at a store. Try making a photo collage, tie blanket, or tie-dye shirt for your bff’s next birthday. You can also save some gift expenses by making your own greeting cards. They will be much more personalized and meaningful than their $2-$4 counterpart.
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Lastly, don’t carry much cash if you are able. That way you won’t feel like it’s burning a hole in your pocket and be tempted to spend it. Keep the cash at home whenever possible!
// your money
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// your inspiration
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I sat in the parking lot, my arms wrapped around my knees. Mariana sat down, texting her drug dealer. Becky was looking my way, a nervous glance stuck on her face. Jade was looking at the ground, not wanting to talk about anything that just happened. None of us wanted to, really. It all started with Mariana saying she wanted to smoke weed. Becky, Jade, and I all said we wanted to supervise her when she did it, so she wouldn’t be smoking with
some insane drug obsessed teens we knew. It quickly escalated from that to all of us agreeing to smoke with her, giving her five dollars each to give to her dealer. Well, her dealer got robbed, so Mariana never got the weed. In my eyes, that was a good thing, like the bad kid in elementary school not getting to be line leader. But soon enough, Mariana was at it again, with a different approach. Three weeks later, Mariana, Becky, and I all slept over without
Jade. Mariana had a way with words. Her life was a mess, but you wanted to be like her. Becky let her take her parent’s peach vodka and mix it with cherry soda, and we ended up getting tipsy and going onto the roof. Guilt filled my body because I knew this wasn’t what a fifteen year old girl should be doing. I would try to say something, but Mariana turned to me and said, “Ariana, you can leave.” And she was right. I could’ve left. But I never did, because not
honestly surprised that your mom doesn’t know.” Mariana’s face turned stone cold and her eyes watered. “Wait, the town knows?” I nodded and continued on. “And you ruined me. I want to be an artist, and all of this crap has distracted me from doing what I love. I’m sick of feeling like I have to drink or smoke to be friends with you. I’m sick of feeling guilty for stealing my mom’s beer.” I sucked in one last big breath. “And, honestly, I’m done. You should probably delete all the evidence from your phone.” Then I turned around and left. You see, in the parking lot, a couple days before, was when I finally decided that this wasn’t the life I wanted. Almost getting caught with weed by the police is enough to scare anybody, right? Months passed on, and I became myself again. I deleted every aspect of Mariana from my phone and I continued to talk to Jade. I focused on my artwork, and most importantly myself. I was officially done with parties, drugs, and drinking. I heard that Mariana is in intensive therapy now. I would feel bad, but that is the true cost. Growing up, adults would always tell me about how marijuana was the gateway drug, and how it would kill me and ruin my life, and I believed them. However, as I got older I started to realize something; They weren’t necessarily right. Marijuana is bad, yes, but for a completely different reason. It submerges you into the land of dealers and other drug users. No, it won’t make you addicted to every drug on the market, like the adult would say, but I believe it did something worse to Mariana. It showed her another side of our world, and she took it upon herself to explore it thoroughly. I still miss her sometimes.
// your inspiration
being with them was worse than being with them. Mariana began to sell her body for weed, alcohol, and cigarettes, while she was with Becky and I. I knew what she was doing was insanely wrong, but it seemed as though it was working. Jade had told me once that Mariana was the Titanic, and we were all passengers on it, and I never believed her. But that night, when the three of us were tipsy and Mariana was sending nude pictures to random
guys to entice them to get her drugs, I began to see what Jade was saying. But even though I could clearly see that these people were not the people I should be with, I couldn’t stop being with them, and that was what made me sink. I went from being a happy, outgoing, creative girl to a reclusive, emotionally unstable, mess. I always had a constant craving for cigarettes and drank my parent’s alcohol. “It’s all Mariana’s fault,” I told Jade. “If she hadn’t asked us to smoke weed with her, this wouldn’t have happened.” But I was false. We wanted to go with her, and I could’ve stopped being with them at any time. It was my own fault; I turned into what I never thought I would become. Jade then told Mariana off, saying she was ruining all of us, little by little, but the damage was done. Becky snuck out of her house to do God knows what. I went onto my roof to drink vodka and Jade smoked cigarettes after school. I stopped playing piano and I instead began playing my parents. I told them I was going to hang out with my friends, but I went to smoke weed with Mariana and Becky. My life was what I told myself it would never be. I was a mistake. And I knew it. I couldn’t change my actions, so I embraced them. I should’ve never started smoking or drinking, because it became something that controlled my life. I told Mariana that we should stop hanging out and I cut off all of my ties to my dealers, but Mariana didn’t get it and still wanted to hang out. That’s when I started talking to my longtime friend, Melanie. “You need to tell Mariana off. She is ruining you guys.” She told me one evening after school. I knew she was right, so I went to talk to Mariana, in the spot where she always was, smoking a cigarette. “Hey bae.” She said, offering me a cigarette. I shook my head and started to talk. “Listen, Mariana,” my voice warbled, “I love you to bits. You are like a sister to me. But I can’t deal with this anymore. The whole town knows that you are doing this to yourself and I am
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A Love Story
Tyrena Whitehurst, Central Dauphin East High School
// your inspiration
Kila and I have been friends since we were babies. At times,
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I know her better than she knows herself. We fight a lot but she is the only person who really understands me. She’s always there for me. When I’m down I go to her. She cheers me up and gives me the best advice. Most people think that Kila and I are sisters because we know each other so well. But Kila and I share a secret with each other. We have been dating since 7th grade. We are in 11th grade now and losing sight of each other. Most would say that love can’t last a lifetime but I disagree. The reason why I disagree is because Kila and I are one in the same so we can’t lose each other. But now I feel like I have lost the person I love to another person. I don’t know why I feel like this. I guess it’s because recently Kila has become very close to the new girl at our school. Her name is Jenny. Jenny is from Brooklyn, New York. She transferred about two weeks ago. A part of me knows that Kila would never cheat on me, but then Jenny is very persuasive. So as of right now I’m feeling broken. I can’t talk to the one person in my life that understands me because she is too busy with the next chick. My mom calls me a jealous lover because when I love I love very hard. I just want Kila all to
myself. I know that she has a life and she needs to be happy, just as much as the next person. But I don’t trust her. It’s like she’s cheating on me. So I don’t believe her when she says that she and Jenny are just friends. I know Kila and I know that Kila is a flirt. Now we are just overrated and I’m so over us. All she does is push me away and go to Jenny. But Kila doesn’t know that I have been talking to another girl, T’yanna. I met T’yanna at a football game, we clicked instantly which made me feel bad at first but then she told me that she was going through the same thing with her partner. After this we started talking on the phone and going out with each other. But now I think I want to leave Kila and date T’yanna. T’yanna and I are like two peas in a pod and I can’t see myself not being in her life. T’yanna left her girlfriend because she was cheating on her with another girl. Tonight is the first time T’yanna is going to meet my family and I’m going to meet hers. I have never been so scared but T’yanna assures me that her mom is going to love me but I still have a fear that Kila is going to find out about my relationship with T’yanna. Tonight is going to be the best night ever I say in my head as I pull up to T’yanna’s house. Here is the rundown of the night T’yanna’s
mom loved me and my mom loved T’yanna. Her exact words were, “This girl right here is a keeper don’t let her go for that Kila since she don’t have enough time for you. Love T’yanna and only her because she is there for you no matter what the problem is. So, keep the one who loves you for you not the one who loves you when it is convenient for her.” So, T’yanna and I are now dating. But there is something that is preventing us from being exclusive, Kila. Today might be the worst day for me because today is Kila’s birthday and I have to come clean about everything. I saw her in the hallway laughing with Jenny, so I went straight up to her and said, “I have another girlfriend and I am done with your cheating self. I looked at Jenny and said, “You can have her. I don’t need her anymore. I have someone who loves me for me. Not who they want me to be.” Out of nowhere T’yanna walks up, looks at Kila and says, “She is mine now. Jenny I hope you’re happy with baby girl cause she a lame chick who would rather date a cheater than a good girl.” Then I took T’yanna and we walked off and enjoyed the rest of our day together. I have the best girlfriend ever. She is my rock and I can’t see myself without her.
Jackie Friedlander, Susquehanna Township High School My hand shook with anticipation as the demon crept along the hallway. Eerie noises of
cackling and carnival music played through the house of horrors. This bastard took the life of my parents, and now I was out for revenge. The Colt revolver lay in my hands, only two bullets left. A bead of sweat trickled down my forehead as the wooden house set on fire by the demon’s will. I cocked the gun, making a loud clicking noise, causing the intelligent demon to flinch at the fact that I have the Colt, its only weakness. I cackled with confidence, causing the yellow eyes, the only thing visible through the smoke, to flair brighter than the fire. Enough stalling, this building was burning, fast. I aimed the gun toward the ghostly figure in front of me. “Back to hell where you belong,” I spit. Suddenly I was thrown against the wall with enough force that I couldn’t break out of its grip. I struggled to break free, but it was no use. It forced me up the wall by my neck as I gagged for air. This was it; my last hunt. “Hey fugly” A deep voice boomed through the burning hallway. With my life fading away, I faintly heard a gunshot, and its impact on the demon. Inhuman sounds erupted from its core as it twisted on the wood floor. During its last breaths, it turned into its human form. Any person would consider the form attractive, but I knew it was only one of its tricks. “This isn’t the last of us Ride” it muttered in a female voice. “Overly attached ex much?” he replied sassily. With a shake, the whole building was dispersed of the fire as the demon exited the living world and was sent back to hell. My consciousness slowly slipped out of reach. “Whoa, you don’t look so good” Ride said. I don’t know if that’s his name, but that’s what the demon called him. I couldn’t show I was weak. I’m a hunter. I wanted to say something, like thank you, but I didn’t even have the strength to speak. I couldn’t move. It’s like I was paralyzed. “I’ll get you out of here” the man whispered in my ear as he carried me out of the unfamiliar building where the demon planned to reap. At that point I couldn’t control it anymore. My eyes felt like they weighed tons. I couldn’t stay conscious. I was weak. My name is Violet Montgomery, and I’m a demon hunter. Despite what your parents told you, you should be afraid of the dark. Everything that goes bump in the night: I’m the reason it hasn’t killed you yet. Any monster you can name, I can hunt it. My job is to keep you safe. You’re welcome.
Artwork by Derek Smith, CASA
To finish reading and find out which Ride it was visit and.jumpstreet.org
// your inspiration
Demons
“Wakey wakey” the British voice said. I woke up in a hotel room, but it wasn’t mine. It was slightly nicer. “Where am I?” I mumbled. “Our hotel room.” “Our?” I wake up to see two, almost identical, faces. “Am I seeing double?” I ask groggily. One of them chuckled: not sure if it was Ride or the other twin. “I should probably introduce us. This is Dylan, my brother. I’m Edward” “Which one of you is Ride. I heard the demon call you that” “We’re both Ride, it’s our last name.” Now that makes a lot more sense. I sat up and looked at them both. “Which one saved me?” I asked.
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Ms. Brooks
By Kasey Smith, CASA
The bullet buried itself in the man’s chest, blood spurting from the wound.
The woman lowered the gun, calmly watching as her victim gasped and clutched his chest, his eyes pleading. She sauntered towards him, delicately tightening her black leather gloves as he collapsed to the floor. The low click of her heels on the cement floor echoed throughout the warehouse. She loved it when they did that. “Mister Michaels, I implore you to reconsider your refusal,” she said. “I’m sure I can offer you more money for your museum’s archives.” The man wheezed and groaned, but said nothing intelligible. She offered a beauty pageant contestant’s smile, the gun dangling from her fingers. “I’m sure such treasures would be much more appreciated in the home of a private collector than sitting in a dusty old warehouse.” She sashayed away, pulling her vapid smile back into a selfassured smirk. “Get the artwork loaded up, but check the labels on the packages.” Her lackeys, whom she had positioned in a strategic perimeter inside the warehouse, jumped to the order. “Take nothing that has less than eight zeroes at the end.” The man on the floor emitted a strangled cry. How unusual. Knowing her shooting acumen, especially at point-blank range, he should have died already. She turned, and her victim rasped, “You won’t get away with this, you know. You’ll be caught someday.”
“Come on, Gunner,” she said, ordering him to follow. “We have a leak to fix.” They found McIntyre in a matter of hours, taking shelter from a biting winter windstorm in a barely-insulated shack in Montana. The woman approached it from the east and Gunner from the west, being sure to cover as much ground as they could between the two of them. The woman usually allowed her lackeys to do the dirty work; but today, someone had attempted to extort her. She shot off the lock on the door and let herself in; a flurried movement told her she had the right place. She kept her gun raised and carefully proceeded through the one-room shack, more like a longhouse, really. McIntyre, a large, bald man, had moved to the opposite side of the room. The woman approached him, holding the gun. “Montana? Really?” she said. “You didn’t even leave the country or figure in a three-hour flight. How did I ever hire you?” McIntyre turned around, eyes wide; the woman relished the fear she inspired. “Hello, Ms. Brooks,” he said, trying to keep the nervous quiver out of his voice. “Have you come to discuss the terms of our arrangement?” She smiled. “Yes,” she said, and squeezed the trigger. The bullet tore through his chest and McIntyre collapsed to the ground, much like poor Mr. Michaels. He lay shuddering on the ground as the woman strode up to him and shot him three more times, taking special care not to kill him. No, he wouldn’t die by gunshot: he would slowly bleed out. Nice and agonizing. “End of discussion,” she said. She stood above him, glaring at him as if he were a stray dog who’d snarled at her. “Will none of you ever get it right?” she sneered. “My name’s not Aida Brooks.” She searched through the shack as McIntyre lay dying. Quickly finding every copy of the security footage he’d stolen, she
Artwork by Justin Procope, Susquehanna Township High School
methodically planned a dozen ways to destroy the data. When she’d found everything, McIntyre now lay unconscious in a pool of his own blood. The woman marched out the door without a backwards glance, where she found Gunner waiting for her, like a newborn puppy separated from his mother. “Thank you for accompanying me this far.” They walked back to the rented station wagon. “No problem,” Gunner reassured her. “I rather thought—” The woman shot him in the side without hesitation. He fell into the foot of snow, his eyes wide and brow furrowed. “Sorry, Gunner,” she said. “You know too much.” She raised her gun and shot him squarely between the eyes. Mercy, for the good ones. She climbed into the station wagon and carelessly threw the hard drives into the glove compartment, all her loose ends from the Great Heist now accounted for—no worries. She rooted around in the glove compartment until she found a small, creased photograph with frayed edges. It showed a little girl with wispy blonde hair, no older than seven, an oxygen tube threaded through her nose, her frail little body making the hospital bed look huge. The woman smiled at the picture, remembering how she’d delighted in all the paintings Mommy had brought home. She slipped the photo back into the glove compartment and started the car, eager to get back to civilization and decent heating. She wouldn’t be caught for this; she’d made sure to come on a day with snow, so all her tracks would be covered, along with Gunner’s body, for some time. She shifted the car into reverse and backed onto the road, making a mental note to buy her daughter a trinket at the airport on her way home.
// your inspiration
The woman rolled her eyes. It seemed like every other victim said something along those lines; perhaps it gave them comfort before they died. “I highly doubt that, Mister Michaels,” she said. “You’ll find I take extraordinary care when I plan business ventures like these.” “They’ll know you did it!” His voice grew fainter with each word. “They’ll find clues here and know that Aida Brooks did it. They’ll solve my murder and come for you.” “Dead men tell no tales,” she said. She raised her gun and injected a bullet into the man’s skull. The woman sneered. “That’s not even my real name.” Years passed since that particular theft, which newspapers and blogs had named “The Great Heist” because of the bounty stolen. Over a third of the museum’s archives had disappeared in a single night, not a scrap of evidence left behind. The woman was confident she wouldn’t be caught for that, like every other crime she organized. Michaels had only been trying to get the last word, she knew. But one day, that all changed. One of her lackeys, a man she knew only as Gunner, burst rudely into her pristine office, as sterile as a hospital morgue. “Ms. Brooks!” he said, as if she’d lost her hearing. She slowly lifted her gaze to him like a lazy cat watching a fly. “Ms. Brooks, it’s urgent!” “What is it, Gunner?” “It’s McIntyre.” He was panting as if chased by a hellhound. “Remember him?” “He broke into the security offices on the ‘Great Heist’ job and destroyed all footage of us,” she said, absorbed in her laptop. “Of course I remember him.” “Well, he never got rid of the footage. And now he’s just sent word that he wants a million dollars so he doesn’t leak it.” She looked up and gave Gunner a hard stare, calculating a thousand variables at the speed of light. After several seconds, she closed her laptop, got up from her desk, and marched to the door.
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Cuz He’s Black Kahla Coleman
// your inspiration
“C’mon, Atlas. Let’s go. It’s just a party.” assured Jacobi Johnson, Atlas’s best friend.
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“Okay, hold on, Jacobi. I’m coming.” Atlas replied. He came out in a classic white and black suit. “Yo, dude, this is the best I’ve ever seen you. I didn’t even know an Einstein like you could dress like that.” Jacobi was wearing black dress pants and an American Eagle tee. That was actually the best he ever looked. “Oh, dude, stop calling me Einstein. I ain’t that smart. Let’s just go.” He walked down the steps and out the door. Jacobi followed him into the brisk winter night. It was New Year’s Eve. The last day of the year. Tomorrow is Atlas’s birthday. He’s turning 13. Jacobi decided to drive, even though he’s only 15. Fortunately, he looks 20. Atlas could pass off as his son. “Ya, man, are you excited to go to this party? Everyone’s going to be there.” asked a very excited Jacobi. “Nobody from my school. You’re my only friend there. Everybody at my school’s a geek, right? I’m only cool because my older brother hooks you guys up with weed and you all know I ain’t no snitch. And I’m wearing this ridiculous outfit.” “Man, all I can say is to stop overreacting. We’re here anyway
so it’s now or never,” said Jacobi as he got out of the car. “This is the place?” Atlas couldn’t believe it. They were at one of the craziest parts of town. How was this kid going to the notorious Bronx High School of Science? He got out of the car and followed Jacobi in anyway. It reeked of the smell of burnt popcorn and marijuana. “Sorry, Jacobi,” Atlas said, covering his nose. “I gotta get out of here.” Atlas ran up the Bronx. But this place, this place was known for being a crack house. This is the place where it all starts. Atlas heard footsteps and Jacobi ran through the door and saw Atlas. “C’mon Atlas, go back downstairs. The smell wasn’t that bad.” “It’s not about that anymore. I don’t care anymore. You wouldn’t understand.” “Then make me understand. I won’t leave until I understand.” “You don’t get it do you? You don’t see the way everybody looks at me. People don’t even consider me to be black. Did you know I’m one of the only black kids at my school? Cops question me every day because they just can’t believe a black kid could be going to a prestigious high school. I don’t want to be Atlas. I don’t want to have to carry the world on my shoulders anymore. I just want to be happy. “
Artwork by Justin Procope, Susquehanna Township High School
“Yo, bro, I’m sorry, but I only got one thing to say: Don’t ever be ashamed of your skin color or your brains. You can make it out of this place. You show those people that have doubted you that you’re more than meets the eye and you’re not just the typical black kid they think you are. C’mon let’s go. There’s a gas station down the street, but we have to watch out for the cops.” They got to the gas station and bought two Mountain Dews, their favorite drink. They walked out and heard a car door slam. They turned around and saw a white police officer with his hand on his holstered gun. “Run!” yelled Jacobi. They both ran down the street. The cop gave shot right above Atlas’s head. Atlas fell and the police officer said, “Stop. Freeze. Put your hands up.” By then he was right above Atlas. Atlas, then got on his knees and said, “Please, sir. I’m just trying to get home. My mom is waiting for me. Please, sir,” pleaded Atlas. The police officer put the gun to Atlas’s head. “Son, you committed a crime. “ “What was that, sir?” “Didn’t you know it was crime walking while black?” Atlas fell to the ground thinking, I just want to go home.
miss parts 1-3? Please visit
Don’t Go: Part 4 Eventually, Xenilla stopped laughing.
Aeoie went running for her bag, dug around for a moment, and then brought her sister a mini mirror and eyeliner. “Here you go.” Xenilla took it lovingly and applied the makeup. I, on the other hand, watched in amazement. If I had a brother, there’s no way I would be that kind to him. I turned my attention back out the window. “ Hey, David!” Xenilla yelled. Annoyed, I turned my glance to her. She was waving her arm and yelling at me with her other hand beside her mouth. As if her voice needed to be projected anymore. “What.” “Are there any free seats? I want to sit beside Aeo.” I looked around. “There’s open seats,” I started. “Look around you, doesn’t look like anyone is sitting anywhere. Well, besides me. I’m sitting, thus, this is my seat.” “Oh,” Xenilla started. “Yea, well look at that. Aeo, pick a spot, would ya.” Aeoie looked around. “D-do I… I have to choose? I mean…. What if I choose somewhere bad.. Or… choose somewhere where there will be weird people. What if they start breathing down our necks an- gah!” She quickly dropped to her knees as Xenilla smacked her neck. “I think right here would be great…” “See,” Xenilla said as she slumped down into the chair. “Was that so hard?” Aeoie sat beside her sister. Silently, she pulled out some paper and began to draw. So, I sighed. I sat back for a moment, enjoying the silence. The bell rung and people began
to swarm into the room. I turned a pencil around in my hand as I waited for the teacher to arrive. “You’re in my seat, new girl.” I looked up to the front of the room, to see Amber and a few of her friends standing in front of Aeoie and Xenilla. “Really? I’m s-sorry…” Aeoie said as she slowly rose to her feet. “That’s funny,” Xenilla grabbed Aeoie’s arm, and pulled her back down. “I don’t see your name here. In fact, I don’t see your name anywhere.” “Well,” Amber started. “I don’t see your name here either. So I propose you move.” “Well, looks like your proposal has been turned down, because I think I’m pretty comfy in this little seat.” “Xenny, maybe we should just move.” Aeoie said, in her usual shy voice. “You should listen to your friend there, ‘Xenny.’” Amber teased. “She got the idea of whose seat you’re in.” I knew things were getting heated when Xenilla began to stand. But, I was wrong. Instead of picking a fight, she picked up her stuff and grabbed her sister’s arm. “She isn’t my friend, she’s my sister, and don’t ever call me Xenny. That’s her thing, and her thing alone. Got it?” Amber backed away for a second, the expression on her face showed that she got it and will never forget it. Xenilla pulled her sister, placed her in the chair beside me and sat beside her. After placing down her things, she slumped in her chair and sighed. Before she closed her eyes, I could have sworn her eyes were a yellow color, instead of blue. But, before I could get a
closer look, she had already closed them and sighed. When they reopened, they were blue. “Must have just been me.” I mumbled. Aeoie looked over at me. “What did you see?” I looked over at her. “Huh?” “You said something, what was it?” She heard that? She must have some serious hearing ability. “I um…” I slumped down to her, and began to whisper. “I thought maybe your sister’s eyes changed colors. For a second, I thought they were yellow, instead of their normal blue.” She looked up at me. “Blue? Her eyes aren’t blue.” She whispered. “Her eyes ar-“ Before she could finish, Mr. Quill walked in.
// your inspiration
Zakiya Foster, Achievement House Cyber Charter School
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Kookin’ with Kim Kimberly Shaffer, Achievement House Cyber Charter School Peel Garlic in 15 seconds!!!
You will need two deep (same size) metal bowls and some garlic. Smash the head of garlic with the heel of your hand. Put the cloves of garlic into one of your bowls. Put the second bowl upside down over the top of the first bowl. Hold them together where the rims meet and shake like crazy. When you lift the top bowl, your garlic will be peeled!!
Tired of your dough not having evenly distributed butter?
Try freezing a stick of butter! Once it’s frozen completely, unwrap it and grate it with a cheese grater. Now you’ve got smaller, more manageable pieces of butter to use in pie crusts, biscuits or anything else!
Sweet Potato Mac & Cheese
Ingredients: 2 cups pasta (whole wheat preferred) 1 sweet potato (about 18 oz) 1 small onion chopped (optional) 1 TBSP unsalted butter ½ cup milk 1 TBSP flour 8 oz. shredded Cheddar Cheese Pinch of nutmeg Touch of salt & pepper
// your inspiration
Instructions:
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1) Cook pasta in very salty water; drain (do this while making sauce) 2) Cook, steam or bake sweet potato; peel & mash. Set aside. 3) To make sauce in a sauce pan, melt butter on medium heat. Add flour and mix well. Add milk, stirring often and cook until the sauce thickens. Add cheese and season with nutmeg, salt & pepper. Stir in mashed sweet potato and boiled pasta. Transfer to baking dish. Bake at 350° for 30 minutes or until bubbly and brown.
Why did the chicken cross the road? For a perfectly legitimate reason.
A man walked into a bar. It was a metal bar. Ouch.
Kila’s Korner Markila Johnson, Central Dauphin High School
Blue fluff.
Where was the declaration of independence signed? At the bottom.
What’s a vampire’s favorite dessert? Vampires aren’t real.
What do you call a grammatically incorrect horse? A horse.
// your inspiration
What’s blue and fluffy?
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// your inspiration
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1. Cole McAlister, Carlisle Christian Academy 2. Miranda Hallas, Camp Hill High School 3. Maya Wasileski, Camp Hill High School 4. Katie Reed, CASA 5. Rebecca Robertson, Camp Hill High 6. Justin Procope, Susquehanna Township High School 7. Keegan Nash, Camp Hill High School 8. Rebekah Olt, CASA 9. McKenna Mosey, Central Dauphin High School 10. Alexa Smith - Carlisle Chirstian Academy High School
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// your inspiration
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// your inspiration
gallery
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1. Ester Lasap, Camp Hill High School 2. Sarah Walters, Big Spring High School 3. Mike Nease, Central Dauphin High School 4. Alex Cardona, Camp Hill High School 5. Rachel Robertson, Camp Hill High 6. Naomi Kemp, CASA 7. Bethany Wetzel, Carlisle Christian Academy 8. Jay Margolis, CASA 9. Olivia Allbritton, CASA 10. Leah Jensen, Susquehanna Township High School
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// your inspiration
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your verse selected poems A Globally, Locally Conscious Youth, Sahira Musrial, Susquehanna Township High School What is a heart If it is so entranced by a devastating state Of a fellow human’s existence If the feet do not move and the hands do not lend Does it not inquire about humanity’s end?
// your verse
Hands, Human hands Traced with stories of past generations and possibly of our future Dirt in the creases, swiping at palpable air For the noose so it’s looser So it doesn’t choke us From a life of misery we are desperate to continue with Are we forgetting that we’ve tied the knot ourselves?
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Have the youth no knowledge of a debilitating future Literally years of resources laid in shades of light and dark The young man’s reports line with A’s But does he know of the lines of coke of that corrupt politician Who is stealing his single mother’s salary Month by month Bit by bit Bit by bit You know the year prohibition ended But what about the year Mr. Whoever put this city to shambles Don’t you worry about the students of the teacher who rambles On about short-lived knowledge absorbed from textbooks Do those books of yours tell you about the dying children in Palestine And how they’re dead because they were a supposed threat If what’s yours is mine, Then their lack of love is our lack of hope And our oppressive silence is their immunity to violence
Mr. & Mrs. Corporate Society what’s your motive Money, money, money You subliminally told us after I rhetorically questioned And did I mention That there are children who are contracting AIDS In the shady parts of Africa Fun fact: The rape capital of the world is Africa Fun fact: Rape is also happening in our own neighborhoods Fun fact: America existed even after Christopher Columbus told us Do your children know that in America there are women Fighting for the “right” to not wear brassieres While in Afghanistan women’s faces are being smeared In flesh consuming acid They are left to pity their faces And what a disgrace it is That this human race hasn’t Really put in the effort to help any of it And what about police brutality And the kind of mentality Necessary to commit such an act My initial response was memory loss of the year it is And the country I am living in Surely, this racial harassment can not exist in 21st century United States
Are we united? We are Laying a foundation of mud bricks not baked too long in the sun We will crumble and tumble Into an oasis of fire? We are burning ourselves to the ground While depicting a fallacy of crystal clear purity If we don’t ensure we’re all safe and sound If we don’t teach our youth they’re lucky to be around Why would you coddle your children And shield them from the horrors of the world Later on they’ll be off into that world, all alone Shivering and cold from the frosty air that iced hearts emit They do not understand, they do not know They need to know
Streets Of Life And Death, Allen Por, Sci Tech High School It’s midnight where thugs lurk and run the streets with their crew. I walk these streets, know my routes around places when it gets dark. Pitch black, only lights of the moon, street lights, and cars passing by. I sit on the curb looking around, drinking my mountain dew. My life is at risk. Cars driving by, not slowing down-Is death near, repeating my accident? Or is it just a coincidence about this very thought? I’m continuing walking down the streets of Rowland, Remembering how things used to be. Unarmed, being followed by a group of three. When I stare, I get paralyzed, forgetting to turn and run away. Being shot in the park, I’m lying there, cold blood rushing out of me; I didn’t make it home… Getting back into reality, I remain focused and walk out of the park. Walking across the street to Family Dollar, I fell to the ground into the parking lot A car begins to go in reverse Am I a fool becoming this imagination of death or a curse? I’m proceeding home with a few marks on my arm. Hurts a little, I take a seat on the stairs of an old friend’s house. He seemed not to be here. My head hurts; my mind is full of thoughts. Would they eventually clear?
// your verse
I head to the store, pulling loose change out of my pocket, Buying chips; I need to be home to see tomorrow, So I can go see her tomorrow, Feeling her soft lips.
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// your verse
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One Day in Autumn Cora DeFrancesco,Trinity High School
Windmills of a Space Dragon’s Mind Towand Lane, Susquehanna Township High School
Today I drank from a stream Mom told me not to years ago she’s not here now I looked like a deer when I drank from the stream afraid too it’s archery season I was wearing my school uniform but a brown sweater blue socks- not white I jumped to the stream from an old stump it was the throne for the fluffy chipmunk just another stump for the deer-me I jumped I drank The stream was steady after a big rain harsh rain, gentle stream There were stones and leaves on the bottom carved, molded years at the mercy of water I wasn’t far from a waterfall five feet, maybe. too far thick spiny raspberry bushes in the way The water was two feet deep beyond the waterfall and swirling and dark I drank from a shallow part one inch pristine Sweet! It was sweet like the brown sugar on left-out apples a drop of pear juice I knew the water was clean i just walked down the valley it came from only nature, no oil I was done I jumped back I landed with a thump and crunch of dry leaves and woosh of wind I sat down on the moss-covered bridge two boards missing well, one missing and one tossed away There was a fox tail beside me tickling my nose a spider perched on the stem The stream kept rushing on below only a foot from my red uniform shoes gurgle gurgle splash gurgle Grandma wants me back stand walk A deer is drinking from the stream
I can hear it I remember how your voice began to break And your hands began to shake I had never seen a dragon caught in chains until that day I didn’t know what to think I thought of all the places you had taken me, the things I had been shown Every time that I came over you told me “Welcome home.” And I felt like it was all my fault And I thought about everything you told me you’d gone through years ago You’re stronger than most And I still feel you are here, you’re a circumstantial ghost I’m writing this, your epitaph; on the things you love the most The feeling of flying so I thought dying seems impossible It seemed like we were running on unstoppable time I remember taking trips to the windmills of your mind And when I showed you mine, you openly embraced them You drank in reality, friendship was your chaser And I remember how I felt erased from the picture You drew me anew More beautiful than anything I could ever show you I let my mind wander, I ponder that night And I wonder when again I’ll see the windmills of a space dragon’s mind
All Tyrena Whitehurst, Central Dauphin East High School All All I have Is what you give me All I need is What you have To give me All I trust Is your words All I have Is You
Thankful for My Friends Shannon Keller, Trinity High School With me through the good, By my side during the bad, They make me feel glad, Forgiving and loving like friends always should, Words shared and misunderstood, At times we get mad, But we cherish the good times we’ve had, When I needed them, there they stood. Our constant laughing, It’s a comfort to not be alone, Our trust is the best thing, We have learned and grown, Uncontrollable smiling, The best friends I’ve ever known.
Why We Put Flowers in Our Hair Cora DeFrancesco, Trinity High School
Mother’s Request Jalal Jamison, Harrisburg High School
The wild girl She rejects The cookie cutter buildings That line Unimaginative streets Lives for the seasons The changing Harmonious cacophony Blazing months Of blinding light Transitional rains turning To blanketing snows Emerging into her favorite Season that brightens her With its life-giving showers That wake the world From its dark slumber Wielding the brush that Colors the delicate hues Of the blooming buds The wild girl She rejoices In the host of beauty Greeting her from under Covers of cold She plucks One fragile stem Admires it Curve of leaf Grace of petal Sheen of health Wild girl sees in it All that is good That she loves And makes it part of herself
Please Take This Trash Out... That’s All I Ask Yes It’s Hard For You To Listen To Your Mother But Easy To Pull Some Cash Out Please Take This Trash Out... That’s All I Request I’m So Worried For Your Life That I Bought You A Bullet Proof Vest Please Take This Trash Out... It’s Just A Simple Chore Please Take This Trash Out That Is All I Implore... Please Take This Trash Out... Go Ahead And Walk Out That Door... Boom!.. Boom!.. Boom!.. Son, Will You Please Take This Trash Out?... Nevermore....
They Say Man You’re Too Nice They Say Man You’re Too Mean Then What Should I Be? They Say Man You’re Too Quiet They Say Man You’re Too Loud Then What Should I Be? They Say Man You’re Too Insecure They Say Man You’re Too Conceited Then What Should I Be? They Say Man You’re Too Fake They Say Man You’re Too Real Then What Should I Be? No Matter What I Do No Matter Towards Who I Can’t Make Everyone Happy So The Best I Can Do Is Just Do Me
I never rode the train that far Down the broken tracks I know will come – I’ll never know how bizarre they are Until my time on the tracks is done I never met a major fork Or have flown crashing off the tracks – I do not plan on spinning the torque Besides, there is no turning back
After Sundown Essence Rankin, Susquehanna Township High School Awhile from sundown, When cold wind mist into a rush............. Your bone relax as the cold swift, To remember what the days will bring Never feel too anxious about hushing A nightly night tale awaits to seek All the times you’ve made Learning to enjoy and succeed daily Loving every step of the memories creatively Never letting your efforts separate in thin air Putting each season you had forward by passing As reality makes it patience through testing Let the master of the night tale The all power gentlemen and sharp mail All with a upward face turning eager quietly Have a good and magnified night jog Starting things and signing swiftly all day Let mature figures like us be prudent to effort Making your comments and know to relax Keep your spacing to the maximum And kneel to appreciate for the perks Love with a huge effect in all stars Those latter years following into a heart As you put yourselves ahead of the nature event Remember that the godmother is ready Is sure to flow deep in to the cold breeze here For there is bound to be a change to boast a year As it flow in a blissfully way; just to leap on a freeze!
// your verse
What Should I Be? Jalal Jamison, Harrisburg High School
The Lifetime Express, Nate Hostetter Mechanicsburg Area High School
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Yaasmeen Piper, CASA
My legs give out. I eye my trembling palms. The air escapes my lungs. It’s getting hard to breathe. My chest tightens. There is a voice. “What’s wrong with you?” Shut up. Stop talking. Please. Words swirl through my pulsing mind. Tears stream down my red face. My hands drip with sweat I can’t breathe. I’m no longer in a room. Everything's gone white. Cold hands grip my arms. Don’t touch me. Stop talking. Please. “Calm down.” I can’t. I’ve lost control. You need to leave.
// your mental health
Fear. Anger. Panic. I still can’t breathe.
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Panic
Artwork by Kyrie Barrett, CASA
Many teens feel anxious before an exam or a performance, but when does normal anxiety end and serious anxiety start? Anxiety and panic disorder go hand in hand, for they both are caused by primarily the same thing: fear. Fear is what fuels the fire of anxiety inside your head. It’s hard to get relief during a panic attack.
AND: How did you get diagnosed? ANONYMOUS: I was really worried that I had some kind of ‘problem’, so I took mental health quizzes online and they said I probably had anxiety or panic disorder. That led me to tell my parents, and they took me to a therapist who confirmed my diagnosis. AND: What does an anxiety attack feel like? ANONYMOUS: It’s different for every person. For me, sometimes I feel like I can’t breathe, and I just start hyperventilating, and I sometimes vomit. Other times, I feel like I can’t move and just start freaking out and crying. They are truly the scariest things. AND: What do you suggest anyone out there who thinks they may have anxiety/panic disorder?
ANONYMOUS: It seems weird, but PLEASE tell your parents as soon as possible. It gets worse if you don’t. Tell them and then ask them to put you in therapy. That will help you find the root of your anxiety, and you will probably get on some medication to help. AND: Does the medication help? ANONYMOUS: It’s all trial and error. Some medications really help, but some make it worse. It just depends what works for you. If you think that you might be suffering from one of the four kinds of anxiety disorders, you can learn more online. I recommend psych central. They have online screening quizzes that you can take to find out if you’re at risk. If you might be at risk, you should talk to you parent(s), school counselor and/or doctor. They will be able to help determine whether your level of anxiety is “normal” for a teenager or excessive. But, before you do anything, take a deep breath.
// your mental health
AND: How long did you have serious anxiety? ANONYMOUS: Well, I’m pretty sure I got it once some personal things started happening in my life. Like, family members getting ill or getting divorced. That really caused my anxiety to skyrocket.
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meet the staff and magazine
Kasey Smith, Writer
Age: 17 School: Capital Area School for the Arts Charter School Kasey is one of the biggest Harry Potter fans on the East Coast who also loves Broadway shows and wrote the script for “Mr. Sandman�.
Quadriya Cogman, Writer
Age: 17 School: Capital Area School for the Arts Quadriya is a well driven student who works well with others and can easily make them laugh.
Maura Jacobs, Writer
Age: 17 School: Cedar Cliff High School Maura is a superstitious Broadway freak who has trained with Olympic athletes. And, she has toe thumbs. Only Cool people have toe thumbs.
Sydney Richardson, Writer
// meet the staff
Age: 14 School: Palmyra Area High School
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Sydney is a dancer loves taking pictures, Andy Warhol, alternative music and writes for the school newspaper.
Yaasmeen Piper, Senior Editor
Age: 17 School: Capital Area School for the Arts Yaasmeen loves Tumblr, author John Green, & to make collages. She wants to travel the world and would like to live in England or New York City.
Tyrena Whitehurst, Writer
Age: 14 School: Central Dauphin East High School Tyrena loves her family, to cook, write poetry and sing! despite loving them in general.
Sydney Durand, Writer
Age: 14 School: Capital Area School for the Arts Sydney loves to sing, act and write. She is a Doctor Who fan and a vegetarian.
Noah Lee, Writer
Age: 18 School: Achievement House Cyber Charter School Kim is a confident procrastinator who loves to cook & sing. Kim’s greatest talent is making a paycheck disappear in seconds!
// meet the staff
Kimberly Shaffer, Writer
Age: 15 School: Cumberland Valley High School Noah likes writing and reading. He enjoys ethics and philosophy. But, don’t be too surprised when you see his golf swing!
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Horoscopes Kasey Smith, CASA
PISCES 02/19-03/20
You will feel restless, but you are still in control of the major components of daily life. You’ll take care of problems that arise, but people might not see it, so make sure you take credit when it’s due. Possibilities will reveal themselves. You deserve them.
GEMINI 05/21-06/20 You’re going to slow down to take a second look at many elements and projects in your life. Don’t abandon or sever ties with anything, but see what you want to save and what can be pruned. And don’t let your enthusiasm drift away!
VIRGO 08/23-09/22 You will be entering a period of contemplation where you figure out your talents and limits. And you are going to start clearing paths and taking opportunities you find. You will lay the groundwork for bigger and better things.
// horoscopes
SAGITTARIUS 11/22-12/21
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You’re gaining influence and power in your life. You’re more daring and sure in yourself, so take advantage of that. You’re in a good period of your life; use it.
ARIES 03/21-04/19 You’ve been working hard, so it’s time to relax. Wait for college applications to come in, cash in holiday bonuses, take it easy. Kick back with eggnog and a favorite tv special, and try not to let your family get on your nerves.
CANCER 06/21-07/22 Any big issues will be resolved or at least discussed. You’ll start doing heavy research on important matters (financial aid for college, job hunting, etc.) And your relationships will be tested, but have faith. Things will ease up soon.
LIBRA 09/23-10/22 You’ll start to feel overwhelmed as you take on projects, but your confidence will rise and you’ll be able to handle them all. Focus attention on jobs that need to be done, but do not let one area of your life dominate the rest. Be careful with scheduling.
CAPRICORN 12/22-01/19 You might want to start slowing things down and be careful in making decisions. Every day can bring about a change or even a new start, but choose opportunities with caution. Don’t overload on work you already have. Take it easy.
TAURUS 04/20-05/20 Your motivation is strong, and it shows. You’re learning, earning, and doing more than perhaps all year. Keep up the excellent work, and you’ll reap your rewards exactly when it counts.
LEO 07/23-08/22 It’s a pretty powerful time for you. You’ll see an increase in selfconfidence but also opposition. Solidify long-term plans and get all your ducks in a row, and always be ready.
SCORPIO 10/23-11/21 You are in the process of making important changes. Carefully think them through, for both their shortterm and long-term effects. Be patient and reap the benefits when the time comes.
AQUARIUS 01/20-02/18 You have a lot of energy, so look for good places to let it out. Start a project you’ve wanted to for a while or take time to perfect a project you already have. Things will get more complicated, so pay attention to circumstances before pushing on.
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// your
to submit your work or find out more, please contact Christine: cglover@jumpstreet.org
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