2021-2022
HILLTOPPER ARTS REVIEW
English Literary Curator Danielle Carriveau Korean Literary Curator Heemang Kim Photography Curator Edward Gonzalez Art Curator Kristine Emerson Cover Art YeonWoo (Alex) Lee Promotional Poster YoonYoung Kim Overall Magazine Design MyeongJin Kim Magazine Concept + Organization Danielle Carriveau
There is so much talent in SJA students. We’re proud to share some of the top work chosen by the Arts and Humanities teachers at St. Johnsbury Academy, Jeju. In this, our second edition, you’ll find heartfelt poems, amazing art, engaging stories, and fantastic photographs. We hope you enjoy them as much as we have this year.
MyeongJin Kim
ChanWook Kang
DongYeon Han
YeLin Kim
ChanWook Kang
YeLin Kim
Celine Park
ChanWook Kang
I DO NOT HAVE ANY SUICIDAL THOUGHTS: I am Healthy and Will Not Die of a Heart Attack
“...Sorry Sir. Could you repeat it once more Sir?” “You have been assigned the role of a psychological counselor, and must treat a soldier for seven days.” “May I ask how I was assigned that role, sir? My only knowledge about psychology is just a few basic books, Sir.” “Don’t ask me why, private. It’s the division commander’s order. They have reasons.” “...Yes, Sir.” Day 1
The counseling room was new and old at the same time. Most parts of the walls and floor were replaced with new materials, but some parts remained stained with unknown substances of a reddish-brown color. There was a long table that completely cut the room in half, and a giant glass wall on top of it sealed any interaction between the two spaces. It looked more like a jail’s visiting room than a counseling room. I sat down on the chair, and looked at the clock, only to realize there was no clock. The only objects in the room were two chairs, one on my side and one on the opposite side. The whole room felt like an unused basement, hollow and uninhabitable. The soldier came in about five minutes later, according to my watch. It was a she, who looked very pretty despite having the facial expression of an old man questioning the meaning of life. “...Do we have to wear a mask?” the soldier asked, looking at me, who was wearing a mask. “I think so?” “Even with this thick glass wall between us?” “...Yes?” “Okay. Understandable. That is some deep C-orona counterplan right there.” “C-orona?” “Yes, C-orona. Just like K-pop and K-imchi, it’s C-orona.” “Hold up... It may not be good to become political in a school magazine right here.” “What do you mean political? The C stands for Chuck Dixon.” “Who is Chuck Dixon?” “A writer of Batman.” The soldier put her mask back on and asked, “Do you know anything about psychology by the way?” “...No?” The soldier facepalmed, walking towards the chair. “...What’s wrong?” I asked. “Hmm. I just noticed that you aren’t putting a Ma’am at the end.” “Sorry. The rules during this session say there is no need to keep things formal by putting a Sir or Ma’am at the end. Should I change it?”
“Such rules that hurt the pride of boomers are just a piece of paper, princess. You’ll learn that throughout your life.” “...Okay, Ma’am.” “Nononono, don’t use Ma’am. I don’t care anyways.” I picked my next words carefully. Does this person really want to get rid of the Ma’am, or is she saying the opposite to be sarcastic? “You’re trying to determine whether or not I’m being sarcastic, hmm?” “...” “Looks like I’m right.” “...” “...I’m not being sarcastic. Just do it as you want.” There was a short moment of silence. “...Okay then I’ll start the counseling. What’s your name?” “Wait wait wait, why are you taking this counseling seriously?” “Am I not supposed to?” “Don’t you notice anything wrong about this situation?” “...May I ask what is wrong about this situation?” “First of all, this counseling is scheduled for a week, one hour per day. That’s seven hours total, meaning you have to treat a soldier in just a one-day-sleep. Do you think that can be done by some random person who knows nothing about psychology?” “...No?” “Then why do you think our superiors assigned you as that random person?” “...Uhh. Maybe they have complicated reasons?” “Well one of those reasons is because they had no toilet paper while taking a big shit last night. They simply don’t care about this counseling.” “Well, they’re our superiors. Maybe they can see things we can’t see. They’re in a higher position for a reason.” “The only reason why they’re in that position is because they know how to drink tea in a really cool pose and lick their own superior’s shoes better than their pet dog. Trust me, if there is something that looks wrong, about half the time it’s because your superiors are braindead.” The soldier took a breath and continued. “Anyways, the point is, nobody expects you to take this seriously. So just do whatever you want during this time. I’ll do what I want to do as well.” The soldier laid down on the floor on the complete opposite side of the room, and started sleeping. There was no talk for the rest of the psychotherapy session. Day 2
“Hello, what’s your name?” “...Again? What did I tell you last time?” “Sorry, my squad leader told me that I should do at least something. Also, asking your name is just a formal part of the psychotherapy session, so please don’t mind.” “...My name’s Sapientia. Follis Sapientia.” The soldier sat on the chair, and started talking again. “Let’s end this quickly.” “...Sorry?” “Cmon, let’s end this quickly. What’s the next question?” “Oh, okay, umm… why did you come to the military?” “Oh, is this like a job interview? AKA, the ‘list something obvious’ contest?” “No I mean, you’re a woman who doesn’t have the duty to serve in the military so…”
“Oh that’s what you’re wondering about. Well, I came here to live.” “...To live?” Did she mean to die? “Yeah, to live. Not to die.” “...How?” “Weeeell, both of my parents died.” “...?” “And my grandparents died of C-orona.” “...Oh…” “And none of my relatives wanted to take care of me.” “...” “So I came here to live.” “...Sorry.” “No, you don’t have to be sorry.” Day 3
“Hi.” “Oh, Hello Ms. Sapientia.” Ms. Sapientia threw herself on the chair, and leaned her body towards me. “Again, let’s end this quickly.” “Alright. What was the happiest moment in your life?” “...Are you a kindergarten teacher or what?” “...” “...I can clearly say that the happiest moments in my life were my middle school and high school years.” “Can you tell me more about that?” “The very first day of my middle school started off with my mother becoming one with a life support machine.” “...” “She was found lying on the floor after I came home. We later found out that it was because of the humidifier sterilizer.” “...” “My father filed a suit against the company that made those humidifier sterilizers, which was the company that he worked for.” “...” “He got fired shortly after that, for making a mistake in an important report that he checked over ten times.” “...” “Oh and the lawsuit failed, of course. But as you know, the firms did eventually pay compensations for the victims, way after my mother died, that is.” “...” “But fortunately, I had some good friends, who helped me overcome those hard times.” “...That seems like good news. How did they help you?” “Well, I was absent for about the first month of middle school, and I believe you know what that means.”
“You mean everyone already formed solid groups?” “Yeah, exactly. Well actually, I had a pretty good looking face so I could’ve gotten into any group I wanted. I just wasn’t in the mood to do so.” “...” “...What’s that funny look on your face?” “...Nothing?” “...Anyways, a group of girls came up to me and asked me to join their group, which I gladly accepted.” “That’s pretty nice.” “Yeah, it was. They even gave me a gift as proof of our friendship, called purple bruises.” “...Pardon?” “Purple bruises. You heard that correctly. It was a clear sign of friendship, usually located under my socks or shirt.” “...” “They also believed that there should be no secrets between true friends, so they spread the news about my mother with a megaphone. They also did not forget to wish for the wellbeing of my mother.” “...” “I would usually return that favor as a delivery truck, buying bread and drinks for them.” “...” “The link of true friendship was so strong, that even the separation of classes could not cut apart our bonds.” “...” “Around the end of middle school, I felt so thankful for them that I returned the favor by leaving a proof of friendship on their heads with a glass bottle.” “WHAT?” “Yes, a glass bottle. A great way to make someone so happy that they can see Jesus for a few seconds.” “What? Why… Wouldn’t it have been better to tell an adult?” “Of course I told it to an adult, about a hundred times. All they would do is gather me and my fellow friends in one counseling room, and give us a formal lecture about ‘WhY ScHooL BuLlyiNg iS BaD’.” “...What about your parents?” “My father? Do you really think I can reveal all that to a person who just barely got out from the death of his wife?” “...” “Of course, my father did get to know about all the bullshit after the glass bottle incident. He went absolutely nuts. I saw him grab my homeroom teacher by the collar and roar like a tiger.” “...” “Still nothing happened though. No SGCSV (Self-Governing Committee on School Violence). Everything was kept quiet.” “...” “If you ask why, I would like to let you know that my homeroom teacher was about to become the school principal. I guess you know what that means.” “...” “The next day I came to school, I saw a giant banner on the wall of the school saying: ‘A School Free of School Bullying!’” “...”
“So I just dropped out of school, and took the qualification examination.” “...” “And after that was the happy life of putting food on the table by doing part time jobs 24/7. My father worked at a construction site as a part time job as well, because no company welcomed an old man as a new employee.” “...” “Then even my father died from equipment safety issues. Of course, no compensation.” “...” “So that leads me here, in this hell hole called the Korean military, which I never expected to actually fight in a war.” “...” “And yes, I am still very happy.” “...” “Hey, are you listening? Do I have to bring another glass bottle?” Day 4
“You know, from the talk about yesterday…” “Hmm?” “May I ask why those kids bullied you?” “...You know, that’s like asking why your shit was green yesterday. I don’t know. They might have been jealous of my face, or my wordless attitude may have convinced them that I’m a natural outsider. Or maybe both. I’ll never get to know, and I don’t want to know either.” There was an awkward moment of silence. Ms. Sapientia broke the silence. “Hey, do you have anything to eat?” “...To eat?” “Yeah. All they gave me today was a bowl of rice, nothing else.” “...What about the other side dishes?” “They gave me meat that was as big as their brains. Microscopic as hell.” “...Well I do have some rice cakes.” “Rice cakes?” “Yes, rice cakes. No actually, I’m not even sure if they’re rice cakes.” I went through my plastic bag to pull out two bar rice cakes that were given out as special snacks today. They were cooked horribly by mistake, and looked like a clunk of mud dripping down the surface of a pipe. “Are you sure it’s not like a dick from Chernobyl or something?” Ms. Sapientia asked. “...I think No. Maybe yes. I mean it does look like it has cancer though.” “No thanks. All the food they give here is absolute shit. …Actually now that I think about it, you can’t even give it to me in the first place because of this glass wall.” “...Oh.” Day 5
“Next question. What is the most memorable event you had in the military?” “That’d be that time when I turned a guy into a woman.” “...???” “?” An awkward Silence. “...Turn a guy into a woman?” “Yeah. Popping their balls to be exact.”
“...Why though?” “He committed sexual harrassment on multiple victims, but that guy’s boss was waiting to be promoted soon, so everyone’s mouths were shut quiet.” “...” “So I used what I learned in university in a meaningful way.” “...You graduated university?” “Yes, I majored in ‘Styx river tour guidance’ at Hades university.” “...Oh.” “And I politely gave him a pamphlet about styx river extreme water sports.” “...” “I especially recommend the ‘scuba diving with no air tank’ activity.” “...” “He came out with no balls. I believe it was the lack of oxygen that killed his two precious eggs.” “...” “...What.” “...You did the right thing.” “Yeah, I think so too.” Day 6
“Um, now that I think about it, how did you get away with that?” “With what?” “With politely asking that guy to transfer his gender.” “Oh… I thought you figured it out on your own.” “...Did I miss something important?” “Didn’t I say that the guy’s boss was being promoted soon, and didn’t want any noise?” “Oh, right…” “Yeah, looks like you figured it out. The only action taken against me was this psychological counseling. Of course, I have no problems with my mind.” “...” “But there’s also one more reason, which you would not know.” “...What is it?” “It’s because I’m a free ticket to promotion.” “...What do you mean?” “I’m a skilled TAABS (imaginary weapon) pilot, and I can win my superiors a lot of trophies.” “Ah…” “...” “...What kind of missions do you do exactly?” “Some top secret missions that you would be better off not knowing. If my grandma hears about it, she’ll unintentionally do a funny breakdance on the floor.” “...Breakdance…? You mean have a seizure?” “Yes.” “...From shock?” “No, from being poisoned by a shadow ninja.” “...” “...” “...That’s scary.”
“Yeah, it’s scary. Especially because that may happen to me anytime as well, because I’ve involuntarily been dragged into some internal military politics recently.” “...” “...” “...Be careful.” “Oh I will, even if you don’t tell me to.” Day 7
The squad leader came up to me, and told me the news that I didn’t have to participate in the psychological counseling today. I asked why, but he did not know either.
-- SungJae(Lloyd) Ahn
YuTong Wang
Rin Lee
ChaeWon Lee
ChanWook Kang
YeLin Kim
HyeSun Choi
JiYu Lee
Celine Park
바다 YuJun Seo
부드러운 모래알 날카로운 파도 비릿한 물냄새 환한 햇살의 그 바다 직접확인하지도 못하고 소문만 듣고 시키는대로 향한다 참 잘났다
누군가는 비행기 보트를 타고 가지만 누군 헤엄쳐서 간다 집요하게 같이 가던 동료의 싸늘하게 식어버린 주검이 둥둥떠다녀도 무시한다 애초에 오지않았으면 느끼지못할 고통은 그들의살아있다는 증거쯤으로 여기고 다시 징하게 헤험친다 결국 도착한 그곳은 휑한 황무지 환한 햇살도 파도도 모래알도 없다 끝없는 바다같이 무의미한 그곳에 휑하고 푸른 하늘은 그들을 더 비참하게 한다.
재개봉 영화
MinJi Son
많은 시간이 흐른 인연은 이어지기 쉽지 않대 영원이란건 없다는말이 사실인가봐 철없던 14세의 우리라는 영화는 이미 끝이났고 이제 각자의 꿈을 쫓는 17세가 되었어 그립고 보고싶어도 알고있어 예전으로 돌아가기는 어렵다는걸 나만 아직 앳된 14살에 멈춰있는 것 같아 그래도 우리 최선을 다하면서 살다가 다시 한번모이자 우리의 14살 영화는 재개봉 되었으면 해
Janet Kwon
JiYu Lee
SeungGyun Han
YuTong Wang
KyungMin Kang
HaeRi Hwang
명왕성
김영래
나는 오늘 왜행성에 대해서 배웠어 한때 다른 행성처럼 공전하던 명왕성이 있었는데 다른 천체를 쳐낼 수 있는 힘이 없어 현재 왜행성으로 분류돼 태양계에서 사라졌지 그런 명왕성이 마치 나를 보는 것 같더라 그냥 그 자리, 가만히 존재했을 뿐인데 태양계에서 제외된 행성 힘이 없다는 이유로 너희들로부터 사라진 나. 다재다능한 너는 이 마음을 모르겠지 절벽에서 끝없이 떨어지는 이 마음을 ‘너 마음 다 이해해’‘잘 될 거야’라는 위로하는 너에게 한시라도 쓰러질것 같은 나는 슬프고 힘든 웃음을 하며 머리를 감싸고 책상이랑 머리를 맞대며 다시 어둠속으로 숨어들지 매일 밤, 처량한 초승달 아래 행복이라 게 뭔지 더는 가늠할 수도 없게된 나는 차가운 공허함 속에서 눈물을 흘리며 소리 없는 울분을 터뜨리며 잠을 청해 그나마, 아니, 적어도 이 현실에서 도망갈 수 있어서 마음이 찢어진다 매일 밤, 나는 생각을 해 내가 왜 존재해야 하는지 정작 위로해주는 건 쑥대밭인된 마음 반쪽을 채워주는 저 보름달 뿐 미안해 내가 그것 밖에 안 돼서
지 루 함이 솟구쳐 오른 최근 외국에서 항시 학원은 없고 할게 많았어, 더 잘놀았어 한국으로 지루함 시작 문제는 학교야 친구들이랑 안 친한 그런 선 여전하다는게 이상해 집중을 확실히해야 공부가 되니까 목적? 목적이 없으면 쉽게 포기하잖아 재미가 없거나 목적을 모르는 게 지루한거야 결론 같아 모든 감정이 얇은 실로 지 루 함
지 루 함 . . . 왜일까
MinJun Lee
YuTong Wang
SooHyun Park
YuTong Wang
YuTong Wang
ZhengTing Yang
THE LIMO RIDE “I’m bored out of my mind.” That was the last thing that Argus thought before his miserable life spiraled into disaster. Argus scoffed at the men on the sidewalk. Actually, calling them men was being too kind. It was more appropriate calling the squirming objects strewn across the crumbling pavement as “Things” rather than “Them”. It was a mess. The scum of the world, the bottom of the barrel for this city. And Argus just happened to live right in the middle of the slums and ruins. This part of town was food waste, and the ones lining the streets were the dull-colored juices that smeared-together decomposing matter always seemed to produce. Briefly, Argus thought of them drinking that black smudge produced from god-knows what waste, puking up their guts and eating it again. Though he quickly cleared his mind of such thoughts, the slight peek was enough to make him feel sick. The things that his imagination could come up with were truly terrifying. He pressed the garage door switch, backing as far away from the street and its inhabitants as possible. But when the doors lifted, there was nothing inside the garage other than a dirty breeze, smelling of wood and decay. His entire car was gone. Argus just stood there, dumbfounded. Then the importance of it hit him. He needed that car. He needed it to get to work. Now he had no way to get there. His imagination flared. ‘Shut up, you pesky thing’, he countered to control it. It always conjured up images that he never wanted to see, making him late to work every day. Work… just kneeling in front of the boss’ desk which all the high horses used to dump their fecal matter down on him. He was finished with being lowly at work. Sometimes he could imagine himself trudging home to an empty house, grabbing some sharp edge, unnamed pills from the apothecary, or… His mind danced with the fantasies of all the colorful ways his life could end. It should have been a shocking image to be implanted into one’s mind, but Argus didn’t care. After all, he’d seen far worse. Whatever this horrid world had to throw at him, he had always seen worse. That was how he lived his life. Keeping himself going, knowing that there were always worse fates than a stable job with basic income. But this time, the thought of a fate worse than death made Argus tremble. Because it could come true. Not just a thought, but a purgatory, manifested into reality just to spite him. His hand went to his mouth, which had started to chew the inside flesh, but not enough to spurt blood. Argus hated pain. It was enough to snap him from his dreamy fantasies back to his desperate actuality, not to mention reminding him of how small he was in the work world of suit-wearing giants. He heard the comforting click, click, click of his teeth chewing his nails. This time he allowed it. For once in his life, he deserved to chew on his nails a bit. He grumbled, “I just need ONE break.” He got one as he heard the screaming sound of a driver grinding rubber into the pavement. Argus whirled around, and there it was. A limo was parked in his driveway. It was glorious. Black, glistening paint without a
single dent or scratch in it. Inside, he could see yellow upholstery and buzzing electronics. It was a wonder of modern mechanics. Argus stared, but not in surprise. Somehow, he knew this limo was coming. He smiled, and showed off his teeth, white and shining in the sun’s rays. Maybe this day was going to turn out better than he first thought. The vehicle was closer to a furnished apartment than the inside of a car. It had sofas and refrigerators, air conditioning, and screens lining the hallway-long barrel of his escort. “This ain’t no limo, this is a trailer!” Argus thought. When he climbed in, the doors shut automatically, making absolutely no sound in doing so. Argus sat down, and watched the outside world through a one-way, bulletproof glass window as the limousine took off. It was a full minute of staring out the window before he realized that he did not talk of any destination. Before he could say anything, the driver opened his mouth. For some reason, Argus had expected some demon-like voice to ring in his ears, or black fumes to come out of its mouth. Maybe it would turn around, but all that stared at him is the back of a rotten skull, crawling with maggots. Argus shook his head. The truth was, there was no driver. The seat was completely empty. “There is no worry,” a voice said. Argus marveled. A self-driving vehicle? Whoever sent this car was one rich guy. Maybe even the boss himself sent it to pick him up! Argus’s mouth spread in a stupid grin. The thought of the boss giving him personal help was just that pleasing. To his right, Argus spied on the pitiful figures hunched over the sidewalk. He could no longer hear their groans, moans. “Good.” Argus sighed. For once, he was given a break, a reprieve from the stink around him. Very good, he thought as he settled into the cushions of the seat. His right-hand fingers started scratching at the upholstery beneath him. He turned and looked at his hand like he wasn’t attached to it. Scratching at surfaces was an old nervous habit, perhaps to acquaint him with the grave. But why now? He wasn’t anxious at all. In fact, this limo was giving him the greatest rest in his life. His scratching usually only appeared when he was truly stressed. His fingers worked their fascinating, automated way on the cushion. They were movements born not from his conscious mind, but something deeper and more mysterious that lies beneath every man’s soul. A few moments passed. ‘An excruciatingly boring ride’ is what Argus would have described it at that moment. The limo had been such a magnificent thing, but now that he was really in the ride, it wasn’t anything to write home about. With his left hand, he picked up the remote and tried the television, but all the programs were just dull images pasted in gray. ‘Funny as all heaven and hell!” was what Argus had thought of these shows before the ride, but now they were dull in comparison to recent events. ‘Beggars can’t be choosers’ a part of his mind told him. But no! He was rightfully allowed to feel joy. Such a hard worker as him should be able to have whatever they pleased, so long as it didn’t hurt anybody. If the programs turn stale, then new programs should be served to him. Argus thought of his everyday routine. Back at home, there were prodding eyes everywhere. Even though he paid rent to stay in the neat little house he called home, it still didn’t feel like it was his. Sometimes, it didn’t feel like he was even alone in it. Every little imperfection in the floor or walls felt like a crack for someone to peep through and jeer at him, jeering his pitiful excuse of a life. The windows were the worst. At least the walls only had cracks. The windows were
clearly transparent. Every night, it felt like something reached inside his house, trying to find him. Many nights his bed was turned over by the mentally produced probing hands. If he let himself see this night ooze in its full glory, as a whole, he would go mad. And so, a blanket pulled over his face, he could usually ignore the force that trashed his room. Something cracked beneath Argus’s ass, and he started, bringing him back to the present. “What a way to awaken,” he grumbled. Instantly he felt that the car wasn’t moving so steadily, and nowhere near as quick as before. ‘What is going on?’ he wondered as he peeked out the window. “Did we blow a tire?” he no one in particular. No, if it were a blow out, then they would be swerving left to right like a couple of drunk clowns. The limo suddently began to feel much more restricted, like it had somehow shrunk in the past 15 minutes. To his right, Argus’s fingernails were now mindlessly pulling cotton batting out of the leather seat. A few moments later, Argus felt another sensation. He was hot. “The air conditioning was on when I came in!” Argus angrily huffed. “Car!” Talking to an inanimate object sounded insane, but Argus was angry, “Turn the A.C. back on!” He looked at the front seat, and what the man saw froze him in horror. There was someone in the front seat, where there had been no one before. “I have company?” Was the first crazy idea that crossed his mind. The figure did not respond. Instead, it turned the steering wheel ever so lightly. “What steering wheel?” But his time upon the earth was growing short. Argus did not get the chance to think about the limousine for long. Instead, his head turned when a grating sound screeched in his ear. His finger had torn through the sofa. Little bits and strudels of cotton fiber flew everywhere. One grain got in his nose and Argus sneezed. His nails were now scraping against the wooden plate underneath. No, not underneath. He had perhaps mistaken his position. The sofa wasn’t a leather, cotton-filled pillow of a seat at all. It had turned into a bench. A wooden one, with iron frames. Uncomfortable and hard, it hardly was an adequate resting place. Desperately, Argus tried to pull away, but his fingers would not budge from their infuriating scratching. Something bumped, and he flew out of his seat and sat down hard on the wooden floor, his right hand still refused to move from its scratching place. His ears detected something new. A trot. Horse hooves smashing against an asphalt road. The limo was no longer a shining four-wheeled vehicle, but a horse powered carriage. An enormous pain shot across his right arm, and Argus screamed. His fingernails, in their effort of scratching at the wood, had made them jagged and pointy, spiked with splinters. The skin underneath had worn into shredding strips. He continued scratching at the splinters with bloody flesh. He could feel the tip of his fingers gradually wear into red, squishy mincemeat. Another holler shook the windows of the diminishing carriage. Argus’s last real thought was, ‘This isn’t a free ride, it’s an execution.’ The wooden plank rotted away and left only a destroyed figure on the road. It had not stopped at its own fingers, but rubbed away his hand, arm, shoulder, and eventually its entire body, just to keep scratching at what was once a comfy seat. Now, nothing but red sludge remained. The sludge trembled to life. The dead flesh decomposing into a black color, not unlike the limo that had transformed into rot. It crawled towards the nearest sidewalk, moaning.
-- JunYoung Kim
Thank you for sharing in our appreciation of the great talents of SJA students. We’ll see you again, next year!