Callithump n. A noisy boisterous band or parade n. The Stone Ridge Literary and Arts magizine
Phases We, humans, are universally connected with the natural world through our tendency for change and movement in our lives. These changes can act as stepping stones, showing where we’ve been, marking new beginnings of growth, and leading us to where we will be. Everyone’s stepping stones are different, but are all set upon the same earth staring up at the same moon.
Shannon ‘23
Acknowledgements This magazine would not be possible without the contributions, support, and advice of many people who have kindly offered their time and expertise to make Callithump what it is. In particular, we would like to thank: Our Teacher Advisor Ms. Cowan, who has provided constant encouragement and advice with a smile from day one. We will miss you so much next year, and can’t wait to see what you do next. Our incredible staffers, who made space in their hectic schedules to learn new softwares and make beautiful spreads while never failing to bring a smile to the editors’ faces during meetings. Those that shared their wit and talent with our school by submitting artwork and writing, we are so thankful for your bravery in sharing yourselves with the school community. Thank you to the teachers that inspire students to share their stories, both on paper and with our magazine, with special thanks to the English and Art departments. Thank you to the administration and Mr. McCluskey for continuing to support the magazine and its production. Thank you to the maintenance staff that keep the spaces we work in clean and beautiful. Lastly, thank you to our readers who always read our magazine with such care and congratulate the staffers and submitters so kindly, we cannot wait for you to read this year’s edition! Azizi ‘24
Staff Adele Feldberg.......... ...............................................Julia Vaughan Alice Harper....................................................Katherine Whitaker Anna Niepold............ .........................................Maddy Pilkington Ashwin Whig.............................................................Molly OToole Atoosa Azizi.............. ...............................................Rachel Nokku Dakota Dorsey........... ................................................Reagan Raffo Daniela Braw-Smith...................................................Red Smawley Emma Person......................................................Sabrina Feldberg Giovanna Ingoglia......................................................Zoe Turnbull
Editors Maria DiBari (Co-Editor in Chief) Clare Siffermann (Co-editor in Chief) Roxana Azizi (Copy Editor) Erin Shannon (Art Editor)
Teacher Advisor Emma Cowan
Erin Shannon....1,2,4,5,6,7,11,27,29,30,31,36,37,38 Atoosa Azizi.......................2,8,9,12,17,23,24,26,28 Giovanna Ingoglia............................7,30,31,32,33 Rachel Nokku........................10,11,15,16,20,21,32 Julia Vaughan.....................................10,18,22,23 Charlotte Weimer.........................................13,34 Olivia Vaughan................................................14 Emma Person..................................................18 Roxana Azizi....................................................19 Maria DiBari....................................................25 Anna Niepold..............................................35,37
WRITING
ART
Table of Contents
Katherine Khramtsov.....6,7 Maddie Ogletree........8,9,24 Amelia Taylor.............10,11 Camile Amaditz..........12,13 Jenné Sy.....................28,29 Erin Shannon.............30,31 Amina Rashid.................35
Shannon ‘23
Autumn Crisp as a cracker, changing appearance at times-part of something more
A free candy trip! O now the fun has begun o meet and greet some Time to bring the coat-a defense against Jack Frost as my mother yells O glossy jacket-hiding a strudy surprise, sticky, but yummy.
My dear stress be gone! Oh how November second, a dream to become
- Khramtsov ‘22
Ingoglia ‘25
ROLL THE FILM!
Shannon ‘23
worms 4 brains cosmic internet explosion help me fix my rotting brain my eyes lose focus and i dont notice that i slowly go insane
where is the passion? littered by fascists everywhere i find myself lost in translation, an imitation of my own personal hell. - Ogletree ‘22
Azizi ‘24
“Home” The moon’s cold glow would warm us, The sun above us sang, The trees around us laughed aloud As winter became spring. Our home was on an island That was firm against the sea Until the sky split open
Nokku 22’ and Shannon 23’
And now the spring is over, And summer fades to gold. We cannot live forever As we trudge on growing old. I know that it was worth it, The laughter worth the war. Your touch could cure my aching soul; Your breath could stop the storm. -Taylor
Nokku 22’ and Vaughan 23’
How it Feels to be Agnostic Me
I often exist in the middle. I am mixed-handed (not quite ambidextrous), I have split dyed hair, and my style can be described in no way other than “experimental.” In a way, being agnOstic simply fits my brand. I remember the day that I became agnostic. Sitting on the school bus in our Catholic school uniforms, my best friend explained to me how an unforgiving thief stole the life of her best friend in the budding years of their youth. In that moment, truth sucker-punched me in the gut and snatched my little gold cross necklace from around my neck. Sitting in church the next Sunday, and all the Sundays after, I could no longer see the halos around the heads of my former religious idols. The idea that any all powerful being could or would ever rob a child of their very spirit sickened me to my innermost core.
Azizi ‘24
I do not always feel agnostic. In fact, that is the beauty of agnosticity. To me, agnosticity is a space where I am free to explore my mind. To me it feels right, however, this gray area proves difficult for a lot of people in my life, many of whom are religiously involved. My parents tell me that they have no issue with the way I see religion. However, every time I explain the disconnect I feel from Christianity, I can almost see their lips moving in a prayer, asking that I will someday grow out of this childhood ignorance and come to my senses. My life is filling to the brim with religion, and escape from the overflow is near impossible. However, I understand the confusion, and am confused to a similar extent. Their very belief system exists in a world that mine does not. Mine is questioning theirs, asking if we can ever believe what we don’t know, or know what we don’t believe.
I am most aware of my god-less reality in my darkest moments. When I feel as if the world is ending, I look up to the sky, grasping for a connection that to this day I cannot reach. I wish I could climb the silver staircase, but that pathway has been long abandoned, the silver tarnished, the steps themselves an illusion. The part of me that can see the stairway is long gone. She was ripped away along with the beautiful naivete of my childhood, during which I still believed good people were always protected from harm and that bad people reaped what they sowed. I AM NOT WITHOUT PURPOSE. I do not see the world through a stained glass window, and yet I manage to see the beauty of it all regardless. We are all on our own journeys, and this just happens to be part of mine Amaditz ‘22
Weimer ‘23
Nighttime Walk anonymous
Think fire, think light Glistening and bright Billion miles away Etched in the night sky. Where water and stars meet, A navy sheet, Plastered on earth’s walls For all the universe to see. But consider.. holding on until you can’t. Many argue to: Send it to the clouds! And.. Plant it in the ground! When they rewrite the limits, Drown it in the waves! We will all try to visit. We’ll come with a blazing spirit If you lend it to us too.
Vaughan ‘23
Nokku ‘22
Nokku ‘22
Azizi ‘24
Purgatory Will I see you there tonight? The place where agony meets bliss? Where the damned and the saved Cling onto our hands And I can’t help but recall what I miss? Will I see you there tonight, In this hell of my own creation? Where I tried so hard to craft a heaven If only in my own imagination? Will I see you there tonight, Where my demons and angels both lie? In that place so sacred and profane A place wholly yours and mine. - Anonymous
ghost in the garden ghost in the garden, he’s just starting to float it’s always been hard but at least now he’s invisible science says that he exists but no one believes in him but if you listen closely maybe you can hear him whisper in the wind
ghost in the garden he’s not scary, he’s not mean he’s just a little shy but the ghost in the garden cant make friends no matter how hard he tries
Vaughan ‘23
Person ‘24
i like to go outside and wish the ghost a good day but when i cant find him, he grows sad and fades away he’s always been so sensitive and sometimes i forget but maybe one day i can tell everyone that the ghost and i have met ghost in the garden i really need to talk to him and i fear that it’s too late but i guess he’s a ghost and doesn’t have much to do so he will wait. - Maddie Ogletree ‘22
Azizi ‘24
Nokku ‘22
Memoir I believe that I have no reason to write a memoir right now. I have barely lived long enough to have any remarkable narratives, and I have no notable lessons to share. I still have so much time to live and to grow. Maybe I can write a good memoir in a few years, once I am done with college? I would probably have a lot of interesting anecdotes from college. Or maybe when I am an adult? Or even better, when I am an elder. I think I would have much more wisdom at that age, and I would be much more experienced with life. Maybe then I will write a memoir. -Anonymous
Nokku ‘22
wings
its really nice to see you funny how i met you just a month ago felt myself get all excited but my love was unrequited so im still flying solo i guess i never understood all the signals that i should’ve but at least the next time it happens ill know. need to be alone maybe its depression? or maybe its the need for a bit of direction hell, i dont know i have a brick where my heart should go. i never really liked the commotion that comes with 100% pure devotion and i dont have the time to wonder whether i’m wrong or right. its funny how i met you a month ago but i never really minded flying solo.
- Anonymous
Vaughn ‘23
Azizi ‘24 Azizi ‘24
Vaughan ‘23
tangerines remember that day a few years ago? when you threw your head back and crinkled your nose? didnt know much but there was one thing that i knew tangerines were always your favorite fruit. i remember this time when we did nothing except talk had conversations about things that i still dont know the names of it was sunny and warm and i was sitting next to you as we peeled our tangerines which were always your favorite fruit. i sit for hours and i keep searching for clues i go to bed late and i always catch myself sleeping past noon id never tell you but im really missing you even those stupid tangerines which always were your favorite fruit. now that youre gone all i see are those stupid tangerines i cant get rid of them when i fall asleep i see them in my dreams ive bashed my head against the wall, held my breath ‘til my face turned blue and it’s all your god damn fault, you made me hate a fucking fruit. - Ogletree ‘22
Azizi ‘24
DiBari ‘22
untitled your mouth forms hearts every time you speak put you in my pocket cause youre mine to keep i picked a rose just for you but you’d rather have someone shiny and new
you’re just perfect but not for me i know i’m selfish but you’re all i need
look at me just once please now i don’t cry but for you i’d weep just one glance even if it’s small but you don’t care not at all.
- Anonymous
Azizi ‘24
Shannon ‘23
A box floats in the abyss. The abyss is dark and seemingly endless. Pools of black and navy mixing. The box is clear. Made of a thick, cold and smooth glass like material. You sit in the box. The abyss hums around you. Muffled by the box. The floor beneath you is cold, But the warmth of sitting in the same spot allows comfort. You do not look around. For everything has been the same for as long as you can remember.
You do not speak. For there is no reason to. You do not allow yourself to think. Because then you would be aware of the endless fear perpetually in your mind. The “where am I”s and the “who am I”s and the “why am I”s. The deep feeling of loneliness stings. You don’t know why of course, and you don’t allow yourself to wonder.
This is how it is. This is how it has been. And This is how it will be. You are not happy You are not sad You just are. Forever and eternally, From the beginning Until the end Jenné Sy ‘23
Azizi ‘24
Shannon ‘23
How It Feels To Be an Upperclassman Me I remember the first day of high school. My one-woman-parade through the halls of the upper school - my floats high above those of the middle schoolers, showing them what a joy it was to be free from the crowded bleachers that was middle school. The parade was bright and new and unknown, and the music was getting louder with every step I took through the front lobby of Stone Ridge Upper School. But boy, my colorful float was nothing compared to the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade balloons that were the upperclassmen. You know how there’s that unspoken rule about the older sibling getting to stay up later than the younger sibling and all that? Yeah, well high school isn’t that different. The upperclassmen get the dances, the sweatshirts, the popularity, and the confidence that comes with being the older siblings of the upper school. The first week of freshman year sets you up for disappointment when you find that you are at the bottom of the food chain again, poking a hole in your air-filled head. But seeing the upperclassmen balloons soaring above the underclassmen parade floats shows you that there is a guide you must follow to have your own balloon one day.
Ingoglia ‘25
Shannon ‘23
Jump forward 2 years - two birthdays, one pandemic, and a butt-ton of homework later - and I have launched into the sky on my very own balloon. There is a certain earned confidence that comes with being an upperclassman that amplifies when looking down on the underclassmen knowing that they are looking up at you. The idea of a free roaming, celestial balloon gliding through the air is short lived, though, once you look down and see the hundreds of strings and people tethering the balloon to the Earth. My upperclassmen balloon is grounded by college planning, sports, sleep deprivation, socializing, and climate anxiety. I used to look forward to ruling the upper school, only to realize it’s hard to rule my own life. I am flying half as high as I could because I am weighed down by all these responsibilities and pressures of trying to plan my future while worrying about staying in the present. My long awaited flight through high school is going to come to an end soon, like all parades must. While the end of the Thanksgiving Day Parade is sad and bittersweet, it always ends with the promise of Christmas and the joyous celebrations of the month ahead. But for now, I will continue to float, despite my strings, soaring triumphantly through high school and all of its opportunities. I will float higher remembering how I felt as an underclassman, and even higher discovering how it feels to be an upperclassmen me.
View I liked how things looked when you were around the brightness the light the view was different
Nokku ‘22 Ingoglia ‘25
Now I have to find my own color shine my own light appreciate the change and not put up a fight -anonymous
Weimer ‘23
Strength
Niepold ‘22
Oh, how I wish to see you one more time. I think about you and wonder if you are happy, calm, and rested. The tv marathons, butter croissants, advice for just about anything. Dance parties with the occasional slow song. A second mother for over six years, but always and forever. I will never truly understand how you went through that battle not once, but three times. Keep going, your daughters and I are cheering you on. Every prayer felt like an eternity to bring to life. “BK”, a little acronym for an unforgettable human being. It was just for me. I wish for you to hear it one more time. To tell you that I love you, miss you, and will never forget you. Determined strength that never ended, A beautiful smile that never ended. Someone like you, went away too soon. When you look down on me from God’s higher world, know that I think about you.
I hope you are very much happy now, Until we meet again. -Rashid ‘24
Staffer Credits 26,27............Adele Feldberg 24,25................Alice Harper 14,15..............Anna Niepold 16,17...............Ashwin Whig 10,11...............Atoosa Aziziz 28,29.............Dakota Dorsey 32,33....Daniella Braw-Smith 20,21................Emma Dowd 10,11..............Emma Person 34,35.......Giovanna Ingoglia
Julia Vaughan...................8,9 Katie Whitaker..............34,35 Maddy Pilkington..........28,29 Molly O’Toole................32,33 Rachel Nokku................18,19 Reagan Raffo....................6,7 Red Smawley.................12,13 Sabrina Feldberg...........22,23 Zoe Turbull...................30,31
Editor Credits Clare Siffermann....2,3 Erin Shannon........1,38 Maria DiBari........36,37 Roxana Azizi...........4,5
Shannon ’23