Stray Shot 2020 by The Frederick Gunn School

Th T he Gunnery • Mr. Gunn’s School • Established 1850 22 Kirby Rd, Washington, CT 06793

STRAY SHOT 2020b Cover Art: Untitled #2 by Joyce McFarland ‘20Ǆ

FICTION Josie Hahn...........................................................................................................7 Izzie DiGiacomo..............................................................................................14Ǆ Gwendolyn Brown..........................................................................................25 William Brodhead...........................................................................................34Ǆ

POETRYb Joyce McFarland................................................................................................1Ǆ Max Farrar...........................................................................................................4Ǆ Junjie (Frank) Ma...............................................................................................6Ǆ Yiyun (Bonnie) Bao..........................................................................................18Ǆ Matthew Eghdami............................................................................................27Ǆ Catie Stammen.................................................................................................29Ǆ You (Yoyo) Zhang............................................................................................32Ǆ Timothy Lacy...................................................................................................39Ǆ

NONFICTIONb Jack Gleason.......................................................................................................10Ǆ Yiyun (Bonnie) Bao..........................................................................................20 Jolie Kaplan........................................................................................................30Ǆ

VISUAL ARTb Joyce McFarland...............................................................................................12Ǆ Ally Gerry...........................................................................................................23Ǆ Yixin (Charlotte) Xu.........................................................................................38Ǆ

CONTRIBUTORS.......................................................................................41ǃ

ǃ ǃ ǃ ǃ ǃ ǃ ǃ ǃ ǃ ǃ ǃ ǃ

ǃ ·Ǆ ǃ ǃ ǃ ǃ ǃ ǃ ǃ ǃ ǃ ǃ ǃ ǃ Special thanks to the English and Art DepartmentsǄǄ for assistance with this publication.ǄǄ For back issues of the Stray Shot, go toǄǄ https://www.frederickgunn.org/student-life/student-publicationsǄ Faculty Editor: Mr. VisentinǄ Ǆ Ǆ

Two Poems by Joyce McFarland ‘20 Dear “Lovers”

I was 7 you were JamesǄǄ pink studs on your ears luminous on the courtǄǄ I saw you from outside You saw past meǄǄ I was 14 Ǆ You were lanky Late nightsǄ fire escapes I learned my worthǄǄ You saw past me I was 15ǄǄ You were newǄ A box of hidden thought You were the lockǄǄ I gave up You saw past meǄǄ I was 15 You were my best friend Hidden from the lightǄǄ Red and blue on our skin Stuck in the earthǄǄ Locked inǄǄ Locked out Me tooǄǄ Me too I didn't want youǄǄ You saw me

1Ǆ

I was 16Ǆ I was scaredǄ A scene on the stairsǄǄ I was brought in closeǄ As touch fell through my skinǄǄ I felt safeǄǄ I was 17Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ You were my childhoodǄ A memory mixed with desireǄǄ You were drunkǄǄ you weren't thereǄ Ǆ I am 17ǄǄ Ǆ Ǆ Lost youth before birthǄǄ Death before ageǄǄ Agency in my handsǄǄ With the fate of the worldǄ Ǆ Ǆ I am 17.ǄǄ Ǆ

2Ǆ

The Age Of Remembranceǃ

sixteenǄǄ the age of remembranceǄǄ the innocence of everythingǄǄ the knowledge of the worldǄǄ it is 8:43, a New York eveningǄǄ on a subway surrounded by memoryǄǄ I watch the bodies: sonderǄǄ they sway against the grainǄǄ of an ever-so changing worldǄǄ I watch my reflection in the windowǄǄ it quickly speeds byǄ with no conscious thought to rememberǄǄ experiencing life for what felt like the first time Ǆ I want to live foreverǄ

3Ǆ

When I First Came Out to My Parentsǃ by Max Farrar ‘21ǃ ǃ ǃ When I first came out to my parentsǄ There were questionsǄ Seemingly thousands of questions that I could not answerǄ For startersǄ “What do you mean you’re transgender?”Ǆ Not asking the definitionǄ Asking what that meantǄ Today if you asked me why it’s so hard to relate myself to youǄ I might start thereǄ Because the chances are your parents have never had to ask ‘who are you?’Ǆ When I told my mom I wanted to change my name for goodǄ She understoodǄ She said it was okayǄ But she began mourning the loss of a child who hadn’t disappearedǄ One night I held her as she cried, telling me,Ǆ “When you ask me not to call you your dead name it makes me think myǄ little girl is dead.”Ǆ So I never used that word againǄ But that didn’t change that my parents had to relearn who I wasǄ I wasn’t a strangerǄ But I wasn’t me eitherǄ If you’ve ever heard me say that being trans is inherently traumatizingǄ Start thereǄ Start with standing like a ghost beside the livingǄ Screaming into an invisible blockade,Ǆ “I’m here! Please look up from your funeral gown, I’m here!”Ǆ And that’s just the first of manyǄ Suddenly you are elected representative for an entire community ofǄ constantly evolving terms and definitions and pronounsǄ Don’t get me started on the pronounsǄ You’re one of a kind for a hundred milesǄ Because suddenly they had to look upǄ And you happened to be the first person they sawǄ No one remembers Google when faced with The Real ThingǄ

4Ǆ

So not only do you have the answers about yourself and your incurableǄ conditionǄ You are the Athena of the gays!Ǆ But instead of leading a mighty chariotǄ You must float over cracked glass with molting winged sandalsǄ Plucking your words ever so carefully from a finite quiver when you gentlyǄ explain what the difference is between sex and genderǄ You hold the queer community on your shoulders like AtlasǄ God forbid you come across as angry or even agitated at being blessed withǄ your burdenǄ For the earth will crack and split openǄ Rivers of fire rising for you to all plunge into hellǄ But what does it matterǄ You’re going there anywayǄ And why was I so angry?Ǆ I was thirteen and terrified when I was chained to that mountainǄ Fighting desperately against more than eagles to find something to describeǄ even a particle of my wretched beingǄ Your parents, your teachers, your pantheon are supposed to have theǄ answers to the universeǄ That’s what you’re taught from a young ageǄ You don’t learn they are cluelessǄ Until you have spent monthsǄ Maybe yearsǄ Building up the courage to ask your questionǄ (Because to come out is a question, you are asking them for Everything)Ǆ Only for them to respondǄ “But what do you mean?”Ǆ “What do we do?”Ǆ I don’t knowǄ I am not ApolloǄ I am Orpheus singing all the wrong songsǄ To an unforgiving King

5Ǆ

Untitledǃ by Junjie (Frank) Ma ‘20ǃ Ǆ 一Ǆ A letter from an unknown womanǄ in the picture, she seems just seven.Ǆ The girl shows her palpitating heartǄ yet I know that’s not for me—Ǆ I’m not her boy AlanǄ ǄǄ 二Ǆ Two letters from an unknown womanǄ she recalls my childhood memory.Ǆ Meeting her in the grade eleven,ǄǄ she looks gorgeous as Audrey Hepburn.Ǆ I don’t know what’s loveǄ while for me, she is as sweet as bourbon.Ǆ ǄǄ 三Ǆ Three letters from an unknown womanǄ she tells me a story of her husband,Ǆ dumping her for a frivolous french woman.Ǆ There is nothing i can do for herǄ except to grumble the man Gauguin,Ǆ who, in fact, cares about nothingǄǄ but drawing until going to heaven.Ǆ

6Ǆ

Two Vignettes by Josie Hahn ‘21 Together We Grow.

We shared a garden, you and I. It was your idea. You asked me what toǄ plant, so I walked over to the nursery in search of the perfect seedling. I never cared what we planted—I was simply honored you asked me.ǄǄ I settled on Swiss Chard and Bok Choy, outlined by rows of Na’u to inviteǄ the bees. The fertile soil was cool in my rugged hands. Gently, I gripped the leafy greens as I removed them from their tiny pots. Digging a shallow hole,Ǆ I placed the plants into their new hale (Ha-Lei), or home. Each row had four delicately transplanted keikis (Kay-Keys). Our little plot of land was almostǄ complete. You surprised me with the plaque—a simple two-by-four piece of wood. However, no longer was it just ragged discolored wood; you transformed it.Ǆ Covered in the color of life, it was the perfect contrast to the deep brown land it labeled. Dark pink Hibiscus and stars shining two shades lighterǄ danced in the corners. White letters in perfect script made our ownership official.ǄǄ Together we raised the plants. We took turns watering and weeding. WeǄ even made sure to aerate the soil every so often. Our shared responsibility never felt like work. It was simply a habit, part of our daily routine. WhenǄ you left, I took on both of our parental roles. I, too, so badly wanted to leave, but it wasn’t my time. I kept watering, weeding, aerating, andǄ eventually harvesting our keikis. When it was time for me to leave, I passed our plot of land down to someone who I knew would maintain our same level of attention and care.Ǆ By now, our plot must have been passed down hundreds of times. Sometimes I wonder what became of our plants. They have probably beenǄ replaced by owners equally as excited as we had been.

7Ǆ

I still have our plaque. I figured that it would be best if the new owner ofǄ our land made their own sign. After all, that was what made the transactionǄ official. You didn’t need my help to create the garden. To the keikis, oneǄ person would have been sufficient in fulfilling their needs. You invited meǄ to help because you wanted my involvement. You knew that I neededǄ something to push me forwards. Our friendship was the turning point forǄ me; you inspired me to keep fighting to grow.ǄǄ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ

8Ǆ

To Begin Againǃ Ǆ Ǆ I keep my snow globe on the tallest shelf where it has a perfect view of allǄ that occurs beyond the world of its own. A baby elephant nestles in theǄ mom’s front leg, comforted by her presence. Behind them, four silver palmǄ trees loom. The silver base of the globe is engraved with a reminder to workǄ hard and help others.ǄǄ Ǆ Sometimes I look up at the elephants. I admire how safe and comforted theǄ mom makes the baby feel in her presence. The mom is powerful, there isǄ no doubting that, yet she takes the time to look after her little one. She hasǄ the wisdom to pause and step back in order to examine the moment andǄ not take it for granted.ǄǄ Ǆ The elephants are stuck with a finite world view. As humans, we are not. WeǄ have the opportunity to look past the glass that shelters our world andǄ create change. We have the opportunity to step back from the chaos thatǄ instills our daily routines and ask ourselves, what purpose do our actionsǄ serve? I find that we can answer that question in one of three ways:ǄǄ we are either helping others, helping ourselves, or we are not doingǄ anything.ǄǄ Ǆ A person I look up to and respect greatly once told me that when things areǄ hard and it feels like the tumultuous environment is closing in, shake theǄ globe.ǄǄ Ǆ So, every so often I shake the globe.ǄǄ Ǆ I shake the globe and am captivated by the tranquility of the elephants asǄ the disorder crashes down on them like hail. Then just like that it’s over.Ǆ The tiny white flakes settle at the bottom of the snowglobe. Every time,Ǆ without fail, the world of these two elephants returns to normal. They areǄ placed back on the top shelf, where their day begins again.ǄǄ Ǆ

9Ǆ

Fit or Fool: an Analysis of the Obstacles Women Face in The Great Gatsby by Jack Gleason ‘21ǃ

In the patriarchal society of the roaring twenties, women had realǄ obstacles to overcome, such as unequal rights, inequality of pay, and theǄ expectation to be dependent upon a husband; women had to choose toǄ conform to societal norms or go against them. Two characters in The Greatǃ Gatsby, Daisy Buchanan and Jordan Baker respectively represent womenǄ who accept their place in society and those who defy it. Daisy, a womanǄ coming from a wealthy family, chooses to be a “beautiful little fool” andǄ settle for the rich, old-money “brute” Tom Buchanan (176), while Jordan is aǄ woman with “one aunt about a thousand years old” battling in the sportsǄ world to leave her mark (273). Jordan Baker and Daisy Buchanan juxtaposeǄ one woman’s defiance of the confining experiences she goes throughǄ against another’s acceptance of the social constraints put upon her byǄ society.ǄǄ Rather than accepting her role in society, Jordan fights it by becomingǄ an independent, strong, and powerful woman to reach her goals. JordanǄ Baker is ahead of her time, fighting against cultural confines that are tryingǄ to prevent her from becoming a professional athlete. She has a strong andǄ powerful presence that shocked Nick almost into “murmuring an apologyǄ for having disturbed her” when he first met her (127). She carries herself aǄ certain way, “with her chin raised a little, as if she was balancing somethingǄ on it” (125). Jordan makes Nick feel intimidated when around her, saying,Ǆ “she held us silent for a moment with a lifted hand” (247). In an action thatǄ could be viewed as disrespectful, Jordan holds Nick and Daisy silent withǄ the simple act of lifting her hand. She holds respect from the people aroundǄ her, and purposefully “avoid[s] clever and shrewd men” to ensure that she isǄ the most dominant person in the room (772). Rather than being dainty asǄ women are expected to be, she is assertive, direct, and seemingly powerful.ǄǄ Furthermore, Jordan is a professional golfer, and she uses dishonestyǄ and cheating as a way to level the playing field. Nick observed that “she wasǄ incurably dishonest. She wasn’t able to endure being at a disadvantage”Ǆ (759). In the roaring twenties, being a woman in itself was a disadvantage, soǄ Jordan is “dishonest” and “avoids” men who exert power over her to stayǄ ahead (759, 772).Ǆ

10Ǆ

Unlike Jordan, Daisy has obvious difficulty dealing with theǄ oppressive men in her life, resulting in her inability to exist past herǄ position as a woman in the early 20th century. While at Gatsby’s party,Ǆ Daisy says to her husband, “if you want to take down any addresses here’sǄ my little gold pencil” (139). She is completely aware of the “sprees” thatǄ Tom goes on, but chooses to stay married to him (174).ǄǄ Ǆ After failing to deal with her problems, she ignores them and wishesǄ the same upon her daughter. Daisy says, “I hope she’ll be a fool—that’s theǄ best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool” (247). Instead ofǄ saying she will encourage her daughter to follow her dreams, and not letǄ anyone hold her back, she hopes that her daughter will be oblivious. SheǄ believes that ignorance is the only way for a woman to find happiness in herǄ life; she has failed to break away from the oppression she experiences fromǄ her husband and society. Even when Daisy attempts to speak her mind,Ǆ Tom “talk[s] excitedly to her” and “whatever intentions, whatever courageǄ she had had, [are] definitely gone” (180). Daisy fully recognizes theǄ constraint that society has put on her, but fails to defy it or break free fromǄ the encumbering social norms. Daisy consistently makes choices in her lifeǄ to accept how she is treated.ǄǄ Ǆ Women in the roaring twenties had a choice to conform to societalǄ constraints or to fight against them and disprove their stereotypes. JordanǄ decides to defy these rules and break free from the norms trying to holdǄ her down, while her foil, Daisy, is overpowered by the men in her life, andǄ chooses to be a “fool” (247). Daisy is the ideal woman in the early twentiethǄ century, representative of the women who are held down and fail to riseǄ above societal constraints. Jordan, on the other hand, represents theǄ progressive woman, ahead of her time in her role in society. Jordan isǄ representative of the woman who paved the road for gender equality inǄ America, proving that a woman can do anything a man can, and inspiringǄ others to fight for what they deserve.Ǆ Ǆ

11Ǆ

Depiction of Self Rearranged in Thought by Joyce McFarlandǄ

12Ǆ

Untitled #3 by Joyce McFarlandǄ

13Ǆ

Flowers for Feathersǃ by Izzie DiGiacomo ‘20ǃ Ǆ Ǆ She was sitting alone at a table across from me, intermittently sipping herǄ tea and watching the happenings of the drab parking lot outside of ourǄ coffeeshop. Every now and then a small smile would compel the corners ofǄ her small, rosy lips to turn upwards, and her face would fill with the kind ofǄ glow only tender recollections can cultivate. Her dark brown hair was cutǄ close to her head, exposing her long neck and delicate ears.Ǆ Ǆ She jerked her head away from the window and looked at me. “Why areǄ you staring at me?”Ǆ Ǆ I swallowed, surprised by this jolt. “I was wondering what you wereǄ thinking.”Ǆ Ǆ “That’s such an intrusive question.” She gripped her mug and took a longǄ drink of her tea. It dribbled down her chin and onto her blouse.Ǆ Ǆ “I know, right? I don’t ask that of anyone unless I don’t know them,” I said .Ǆ Ǆ “Why? That’s weird.”Ǆ Ǆ “I don’t really want to know what the people I know are thinking.”Ǆ Ǆ She smirked. “So, if I tell you what I’m thinking, does that mean you’re notǄ going to try to get to know me?” She leaned her body towards me, droppingǄ her chin into her hands.Ǆ Ǆ “I guess.”Ǆ Ǆ “Then it’s a win-win. For both of us.”Ǆ Ǆ “Well, now I want to know you better. So maybe you shouldn’t tell me whatǄ you were thinking about.” I leaned my body closer to hers.Ǆ Ǆ She wiped the tea from her chin with the back of her hand. “Okay. Here’sǄ the plan. Since I don’t have a rule like yours, you can tell me what you wereǄ

14Ǆ

thinking about when you were looking at me. And if I don’t like it, then IǄ don’t like you, and then I can tell you what I was thinking because I won’tǄ want you to know me anyway.”Ǆ Ǆ Intrigued by this proposal, I said, “So you’re going to decide whether or notǄ you like me based on one thing I was thinking about?”Ǆ Ǆ “Yes!” She straightened up in exclamation. “Of course! This is your definingǄ moment. This is the moment in time where we will find out if we fitǄ together.”Ǆ Ǆ She thought some more, and then added, “And, it’s even more perfectǄ because you don’t know me well enough to lie and say what you think I’llǄ want to hear.”Ǆ Ǆ “What if I really was just wondering what you were thinking?”Ǆ Ǆ “I don’t buy it. There had to be something you thought about before youǄ started to pay more attention to me and then wonder about that.”Ǆ Ǆ “You could be right...”Ǆ Ǆ “So tell me. And then I’ll know if we’re perfect for each other.” She smiled.Ǆ Ǆ “Okay. But you should know I’m quite nervous. This is a lot of pressure.”Ǆ Ǆ “Just say it already!” She rose from her chair and sat down across from me,Ǆ quickly cupping her face in her hands once more.Ǆ Ǆ “I was thinking that you remind me of my mother.”Ǆ Ǆ “When did she die?”Ǆ Ǆ “She didn’t. I just haven’t seen her since I was little. And she was about asǄ young as you, I guess.”Ǆ Ǆ “Why haven’t you seen her?”Ǆ Ǆ “So does this mean you want to know me, then?”Ǆ

15Ǆ

Ǆ “I haven’t decided yet.” She looked up at me. “Yes, okay, yes. I do. Please tellǄ me what happened to your mother.”Ǆ Ǆ “I don’t really remember. I just know she lived with us, me and my dad andǄ my sister, until I was 7, and then one day she came home and all her stuffǄ was packed and my dad made her leave the house.”Ǆ Ǆ “What did she do?”Ǆ Ǆ “I don’t know. My dad never said. But I think it had something to do withǄ my piano teacher.”Ǆ Ǆ She frowned. “What was her name?”Ǆ Ǆ “Peach.”Ǆ Ǆ “Peach? Like the fruit?”Ǆ Ǆ “Yes, like the fruit.”Ǆ Ǆ I thought she was going to laugh, but she didn’t. She just nodded, and asked,Ǆ “Why do I remind you of her?”Ǆ Ǆ “Well, the way your hair curls near your ears. And when she was thinking,Ǆ you could see everything she felt on her face. Like you.”Ǆ Ǆ “What else?”Ǆ Ǆ “She liked tea.” I snorted. “She was always drinking tea.”Ǆ Ǆ “Am I the first woman you’ve ever seen drinking tea?”Ǆ Ǆ “No. Of course not. But you just look like her when you drink tea, I guess.”Ǆ Ǆ “That’s nice.”Ǆ Ǆ “Is it?”Ǆ Ǆ

16Ǆ

“Yeah. I like reminding people of people.”Ǆ Ǆ “Hmm.”Ǆ Ǆ “You miss her?”Ǆ Ǆ “Not until now. I haven’t thought of her in years.”Ǆ Ǆ “Oh. I’m sorry.”Ǆ Ǆ “It’s not your fault.”Ǆ Ǆ No one said anything for a while. She turned her face out the window again,Ǆ and I studied her. Her cheekbones were round and smooth, and her noseǄ was long and sprinkled by small freckles.Ǆ Ǆ “What’s out there?” I asked.Ǆ Ǆ “I don’t know. But I lost something in that parking lot once.”Ǆ Ǆ “What was it?”Ǆ Ǆ “A book. Flowers for Feathers. I wrote it.”Ǆ Ǆ “Oh? What was it about?”Ǆ Ǆ “It was about my kindergarten class! And my teacher! And everything weǄ talked about. I wanted to remember it forever. And so I came here, and IǄ showed it to my dad, and then on the way out, I dropped it and didn’tǄ realize it fell out of my bag until I got home. When I came back it wasǄ gone.”Ǆ Ǆ “Is that what you were thinking about? Before?”Ǆ Ǆ “I can’t say. I want you to know me. I can’t tell you what I think.”Ǆ ǃ ǃ

17Ǆ

Two Poems and One Essay by Yiyun (Bonnie) Bao ‘20 Untitled I It’s 5 pm in Shanghai on a subway Surrounded by too much memoryǄ Swirling and competing for attention Ǆ I thought I saw the building The gas station the convenience storeǄǄ The people standing and smiling Ǆ And it’s the same way before As the sky is orange and whiteǄǄ As the ground is black and yellow Ǆ My vision blurs and fades away with the darkness permeating through the cabinǄǄ the next minute there is only black and me

18Ǆ

Untitled IIǃ ǃ IǄ In her crowded drawer lies a notebookǄ That contains drawings he spent months creatingǄ His face was beamingǄǄ When he gave it to her, sayingǄǄ You will rememberǄǄ ǄǄ IIǄ She glanced over the hundreds of picturesǄǄ without any of which calling her attentionǄ She was tired of staying in the same placeǄ Making the same move and taking the same picturesǄ ǄǄ IIIǄ She opened the drawer trying to find distractionsǄ One thing caught her offǄǄ but soon she saw the birds are flying southǄǄ And she knows their paths will never crossǄ Ǆ ǃ

19Ǆ

Emilia’s Speech Pattern in Othello In Othello, there are three major female characters, two of whom—Desdemona and Bianca—represent male fantasies imposed onǄ women. The third, Emilia, however, sets herself apart with her courage to break away from male dominance in the play, and her speech patternsǄ documents the process. Emilia’s three speech patterns —brevity, sophistication, and aggression—document how from Act 2 to Act 5 EmiliaǄ transforms as a character submitting to men, defending her sex, and finally challenging men’s authority.Ǆ Ǆ Emilia’s utilization of one-line sentences in conversations with Iago in Act 2 and 3 indicate that she is submissive to her husband, suggestingǄ women’s lower social status. In Act 2 Scene 1, Emilia speaks only twice, with each consisting of less than ten words; nevertheless, Iago accuses her ofǄ talking “too much”(2.1.103). Facing such an unfair accusation, Emilia replies briefly with “You have little cause to say so”(2.1.107), choosing to accept herǄ husband’s mockery instead of fighting back. Emilia’s obedience lets Iago continue to deride her as one who wouldǄ “rise to play and go to bed to work” (2.1.113). Again, Emilia decides to accept this unfair, sexist statement and only responds, “you shall not write myǄ praise” (2.1.114). Emilia’s two short lines portray that she willingly submits to the authority of her husband, implying that women have limited power inǄ relationships. Emilia keeps her conciseness in language when talking to Iago in Act 3.Ǆ When Emilia gives Desdemona’s napkin to Iago, she tells him, “do not you chide. I have a thing for you” (3.3.303). By employing less than ten words andǄ a cautious attitude, Emilia demonstrates her gentleness and quietness. Her brevity in language in the first half of the play illustrates that she is a loyal, ifǄ unfairly treated, wife who seeks to please Iago while building up the idea that it is proper for women to obey and submit to their spouse.ǄǄ Eventually, Emilia reconsiders the relationship between women and men and changes her speech pattern to Othello and Iago after noting theǄ improper treatment Desdemona receives. Her sharp-witted verses and use of parallelism reveal that she begins to transfer loyalty to Desdemona, signifyingǄ her response to male dominance. In Act 4 Scene 2, Emilia, in front of Othello,

20Ǆ

condemns the person who lies about Desdemona’s affair by wishing thatǄ “heaven requite it with the serpent’s curse” (4.2.15).ǄǄ Instead of being passive in Act 2, Emilia takes actions againstǄ inappropriate assertions about Desdemona: Emilia utilizes parallelisms suchǄ as “Some busy and insinuating rogue, Some cogging, cozening slave”Ǆ (4.2.130-131) and employs strong words such as “wretch” (4.2.14) to describeǄ those she disagrees with, which contrast with her initial brevity andǄ gentleness in language. Emilia’s change in her speech pattern with Othello,Ǆ the commanding general, manifests her courage to defend Desdemona.ǄǄ Additionally, Emilia’s speech also changes with her husband when it’sǄ about Desdemona. In Act 4 Scene 2, Emilia pushes Iago to answer whyǄ Desdemona encounters unfair accusations by throwing out six successiveǄ questions, such as “Why should he call her “whore? Who keeps herǄ company?” (4.2.136). The parallelism delineates how Emilia takes control overǄ conversation, illustrating that Emilia challenges Iago’s authority to speak upǄ for her friend. In all, Emilia’s use of parallelism and sophisticated verseǄ displays her loyalty to Desdemona and conveys that Emilia is beginning toǄ defend her sex.ǄǄ Emilia’s speech pattern changes again when she realizes that Iago isǄ responsible for Desdemona’s death. Her repetition and aggressive speechǄ demonstrate her anger and disappointment towards men while delineatingǄ women’s courage. The repetition portrays Emilia’s emotions taking over,Ǆ urging her to voice the truth to defend Desdemona. In Act 5 Scene 2, Emilia’sǄ repeated question, “My husband?” (5.2.145) underlines her shock while otherǄ repetition such as “Villainy, villainy, villainy!” (5.2.189) criticizes Iago’sǄ unlawful behaviors and articulates Emilia’s disappointment and outrage.Ǆ Through repetition, Emilia expresses her mixed feelings and, mostǄ importantly, prepares herself to reveal her husband’s crimes.ǄǄ When Iago, who notices that things are going out of control, ordersǄ Emilia to go home, Emilia employs aggressive speech to fight Iago’sǄ dominance. Saying “Tis proper I obey him, but not now” (5.2.194), EmiliaǄ chooses to challenge social norms and speak against her husband: her firmǄ attitude illustrates her aggressiveness and courage to risk herself to defend theǄ truth. Emilia furthers this speech pattern by claiming that “Perchance, Iago, IǄ will ne'er go home”(5.2.195): Her diction, employing adamant words such asǄ

21Ǆ

“never” (5.2.195), corroborates her determination to abandon her loyalty toǄ Iago. Emilia’s second change in speech pattern is a critical point where sheǄ rejects the dominance of her husband and her old, submissive self, becomingǄ the defender of truth and women.ǄǄ Throughout Othello, Emilia’s language pattern experiences significantǄ changes, from staying submissive and keeping quiet in the first half of theǄ play to speaking out aggressively in the end. Her change in speech is criticalǄ to the understanding in Othello and the changing role of women in the play.Ǆ Emilia, an emotionally resilient woman, enables the audience to understandǄ the strength and courage in womanhood through her change in speechǄ pattern.ǄǄ Ǆ

22Ǆ

Untitled #2 by Ally Gerry ‘21Ǆ

23Ǆ

Untitled #6 by Ally Gerry ‘21Ǆ

24Ǆ

Two Vignettes by Gwendolyn Brown ‘20 Something Vulnerable

You know when you just cry for no reason and the tears stream down yourǄ face and pool at your chin? A rolly-polly collection of tears crash down. The tears fountain out and explore the corners of my face before leaving trails to my tears. They cool my heated flesh. In the arms of Earth, we are still children. Children who love and hate andǄ play and hurt. And in her arms she holds us so gently. Mother Earth embraces my tears as she cradles my body.Ǆ

25Ǆ

Pruney Fingersǃ ǃ ǃ In water, our fingers take on new prints and shapes.ǄǄ Ǆ The water is reclaiming us. There’s something evolutionary about it, butǄ how poetic is that?Ǆ Ǆ As if we hadn’t fled the water years and years and years ago. The ocean’sǄ sent us away — because that’s what you do with all things you love. You castǄ them away to see if they return… if they truly love you enough to comeǄ back.Ǆ Ǆ The seas cast us away and we learned to adapt. We learned to grow. WeǄ learned to love. We didn’t need the oceans anymore.Ǆ Ǆ But they cast us away out of love, expecting us to come back and find lifeǄ with them again. They make our hands wrinkle and soften by way ofǄ welcome. “If you return, you will be welcomed.”Ǆ Ǆ You haven’t. And will you ever? Having been pushed out of our old home,Ǆ you discovered a whole new world. You just needed the ocean to push youǄ away to truly see that.Ǆ Ǆ

26Ǆ

Two Poems by Matthew Eghdami ‘20 Untitledǃ IǄ The man runs but he remains stationaryǄ He feels each moment slip through his fingersǄǄ while the hands of time continue to move his remain monolithicǄǄ Ǆ IVǄǄ He runs but he runs nowhereǄǄ Void of purpose, trapped in repetitionǄǄ He feels like a doorknobǄ Ǆ IIǄǄ He lives stillǄ Never being asked to be thereǄǄ Reliant on others to open the passagewayǄǄ Ǆ VǄǄ He comes home from workǄǄ Sits back and waits for his cycle to repeatǄ Ǆ

27Ǆ

Carnegie Hill (after Langston Hughes’s “A Dream Deferred”)ǃ What happens to those who are the damnedǄ to those whose dreams have died?Ǆ Do they explode?Ǆ Or are they just spending their days like an MTA train carǄǄ just going back and forth—ǄǄ station to station—never changing their course?Ǆ

28Ǆ

Four Ways of Looking at a Black Cat (after Wallace Stevens’s “Thirteenǃ Ways of Looking at a Blackbird”)ǃ by Catie Stammen ‘20ǃ Ǆ Iǃ It was a dark Halloween night in the countryǄ When the black cat pawed through the town:Ǆ It filled the children with fright.ǄǄ Ǆ IIǃ The black cat and the devilǄ Are oneǄ As the mind and bodyǄ Are one.Ǆ Ǆ IIIǃ Crossing the street was a black cat,Ǆ Casting a shadow on the streets wet with rain.Ǆ Its paws briefly stuckǄ To the frigid ground.Ǆ Ǆ IVǃ Halloween had ended,Ǆ But the black cat lingered.Ǆ Ǆ

29Ǆ

Huck Finn: A Meticulously Crafted Book that Contradicts Socialǃ Conventions of the Timeǃ by Jolie Kaplan ‘20ǃ

In Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain, Jim and PapǄ contradict prevalent beliefs regarding race, putting to question societalǄ norms of the time. Set along the Mississippi River in the 1830s to 1840sǄ when many white people believed it was their burden to “sivilize” (TwainǄ 13) blacks who lacked the perceived white humanity, Huckleberry Finnǃ challenges the social conventions of the Antebellum South. ProtagonistǄ Huck Finn reflects whites’ views that blacks would take advantage of anyǄ opportunity, so they needed to be kept in their rightful, inferior place. InǄ contradiction to prevalent racial beliefs of the time, Jim is anǄ African-American who is kind, intelligent, and emotional. Whereas, Pap, aǄ white man, is abusive, and irresponsible. Further, Jim is beloved while PapǄ is despised, which is a subtle but powerful rebuke to the norms of society atǄ the time.ǄǄ Huck reflects white society—the social conventions of the time—withǄ his racist view that blacks are inferior to whites. Huck represents society’sǄ racism when he repeats an old saying “give a n----- an inch...he’ll take an ell”Ǆ (110), reflecting traditional views that blacks would take advantage of anyǄ opportunity so they needed to be kept in their rightful, inferior place.Ǆ White society viewed African-Americans as inferior in multiple respects:Ǆ moral principles, intellectual capabilities, and deserved treatment. WhenǄ the King and the Duke launch their scheme to pretend to be Peter Wilks’Ǆ brothers, Huck is disgusted and proclaims, “if I ever struck anything like it,Ǆ I’m a n-----. It was enough to make a body ashamed of the human race”Ǆ (176). Huck views dishonesty and theft as behaviors of black people, notǄ white people, reflecting pervasive assumptions at the time. Whites alsoǄ viewed blacks as less intelligent. Thus, Huck says “Jim had a wonderful levelǄ head, for a n-----: he could...always start a good plan when you wanted one”Ǆ (97). Huck’s description reveals that whites assumed blacks wereǄ intellectually inferior to them, as he voices surprise at Jim’s ability to thinkǄ of new ideas.ǄǄ Additionally, we see Huck’s racism mirrored by others in the novel. AǄ stranger commenting on the likelihood of finding Jim, says, “Well, I reckon!Ǆ There’s two hundred dollars reward… It’s like picking up money out’n theǄ road” (220), denying that blacks are people and instead treating them asǄ

30Ǆ

financial opportunities. Further, these financial opportunities are readilyǄ available to whites, suggesting that a black person’s primary purpose is toǄ benefit white people. Huck reflects the social order of the time with his viewǄ that blacks are inferior to whites in all characteristics possible. TheǄ characterization of Jim and Pap, who embody the opposite characteristicsǄ society would expect from them, ultimately questions this racist viewpoint,Ǆ however.Ǆ Twain’s characterization of Jim and Pap challenge the societal normsǄ as reflected in Huck and argue that Southern stereotypes about white andǄ black people are wrong. Jim is a likeable and charismatic African-AmericanǄ slave, while Pap is a white, abusive alcoholic. An effective juxtaposition,Ǆ these two characters are both adult fathers of different races, giving themǄ different societal statuses. While society’s view would assume the white manǄ would be superior in all respects, the characters do not support thatǄ conclusion. For example, Jim and Pap have opposite approaches to parentalǄ responsibilities. Huck mentions his surprise at Jim’s earnest desire to see hisǄ family, saying, “He was thinking about his wife and his children.... he wasǄ low and homesick… I do believe he cared just as much for his people asǄ white folks does for theirn. It don’t seem natural, but I reckon it’s so” (170).Ǆ Huck’s realization here is quintessential to Twain’s message that people’sǄ characteristics contradict the racial beliefs among whites. Jim defiesǄ society’s assumption that African-Americans are incapable of the sameǄ emotions as whites.ǄǄ Furthermore, while Jim longs to be reunited with his family out ofǄ love, Pap wants to see his son, Huck, again solely to get his money, saying,Ǆ “I’ve been in town two days...I hain’t heard nothing but about you bein’Ǆ rich...That’s why I come” (33). Twain portrays Pap, a white man, as greedyǄ and selfish; at the same time, he depicts Jim, a black slave, as being a caringǄ and thoughtful father.Ǆ In Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Huck reflects social conventions ofǄ the Antebellum South while Jim and Pap contradict them. The juxtaposingǄ characteristics of Jim and Pap confirm the purpose of Huckleberry Finn: toǄ spur people to rethink societal norms. Literature is a powerful tool that canǄ subtly persuade people to question long-held beliefs.Ǆ Ǆ

31Ǆ

Two Poems by You (Yoyo) Zhang ‘22 Poem for Graph Paper Ǆ Walking down town in July,Ǆ the heat can make me dizzy. Falling into coolness ofǄǄ green. Twigs, on both sides, intertwined. Composed anǄǄ infinite Time Tunnel and enclosed an obscure view.ǄǄ So I can see an azure blue blending with the cloudyǄǄ white. I see a coastline of a beach, waiting to cool meǄǄ down! My rising curiosity accelerates my pace. ThatǄ instant I walk out, amazed how vintage architectureǄ merges naturally with the mountain behind, withoutǄ any dissonance. They lay silently, orderly, on bothǄ sides, facing each other, matching the chaos withǄ peacefulness. No matter how fickle the universeǄǄ can be, they will still sit steadily. How can I findǄ excuses for myself all the time for being impatient?Ǆ

32Ǆ

I Rememberǃǃ Ǆ Ǆ I remember the cherry blossom in front of Bourne. Mr. Martin told me,Ǆ “The cherry blossom fell like a snowflake toward the rich, brown, softǄ earth”.ǄǄ Ǆ I remember the foliage in front of Tisch. Crimson, yellow, and red blendedǄ toward each otherǄǄ Ǆ I remember the snow days on campus. After the snow, the icicles hung onǄ the dry branches, as clear as crystal.Ǆ Ǆ I remember playing frisbee with my friends on the playground in front ofǄ the church. We stuck the frisbee in the tree. We threw shoes toward the treeǄ until the frisbee finally fell.Ǆ Ǆ I remember hanging out with my friends along the creek behind the turf.Ǆ The water was toasty, the weather was warm, and the dim light of the sunsetǄ penetrated through the woods. We threw rocks into the creek and the waterǄ sprayed onto our T-shirts. I can never forget our candid laughter.Ǆ Ǆ I remember lying on the lawn in front of Teddy and watching stars with myǄ friends on a Saturday night. We listened to sad music. Time seemed fixed atǄ that moment and the world became silent. Our longings for the future wereǄ sparked by the starry sky.Ǆ Ǆ I remember sneaking into the dining hall at night with my friends on aǄ Saturday night. We shared the Chinese food we ordered from Main Moon.ǄǄ Ǆ I remember walking to Washington Depot on a spring day with my friends.Ǆ The flowers were blossoming and butterflies were fluttering along the way.Ǆ Ǆ I remember playing Pokemon Go with my friends in front of the church,Ǆ even though we no longer play now.ǄǄ Ǆ I remember the day we became sophomores.ǄǄ ǃ ǃ

33Ǆ

The Mindǃ by y William Brodhead ‘20

The Mind:ǃ In her room, in the darkness, she sleeps under a blanket. Her soft breathsǄ slowly deplete the oxygen in the space between her and her blanket.Ǆ Drifting in and out of consciousness, she stretches and rolls, squirms andǄ wriggles like an infantile creature sprawling out in its carbon chrysalis. NoǄ longer able to feel the division between dream and bed, she allows herself toǄ float along the crystal line, mind humming along to a melody.ǄǄ Like the wisest of holy men, she does not pretend to understand herǄ subconscious or come to terms with it. She knows it is both a part of her andǄ not. Like twins—one blind and the other deaf—she plods along throughǄ reality, occasionally gripping herself.Ǆ You were not smart. You were never smart. You were always just a tool for yourǃ subconscious mind to get a few licks of reality. But now it’s all coming to an end, so itǃ doesn’t matter what I tell you, does it?ǃ Ǆ It’s impossible to convey this feeling through any medium other thanǄ telepathy or touch.Ǆ Ǆ How does the blind man navigate his room? Not through the consciousǄ recall of his bedroom objects’ location, but thoughtlessly; guided entirely byǄ the back corners of his mind. So, this begs the question: who isǄ Subconscious? Is She the instinctive reflexes gifted to us by evolution?Ǆ When you’re in a place you’re not supposed to be and you hear footsteps, isǄ that sharp feeling you get Subconscious suddenly taking control, grippingǄ yourself?Ǆ Ǆ Crying, shuddering: wretched tears can come from many things. Some areǄ more impactful than others, some can make her cry much longer and muchǄ harder than others, and some can twist her heart and mind around, warpingǄ both her consciousness and subconsciousness until all she can do is sob intoǄ my shoulder.ǄǄ

34Ǆ

She is beautiful. Each sob is a contraction of the universe, giving birth toǄ new ideas: new thought.Ǆ ǄǄ I sometimes wonder if she could leave me as easily as she falls asleep. I understandǃ how quickly love can come and go: as easily as the tide teeters back and forth uponǃ the shore. She is very unique in thought, almost from an alternate universe whereǃ humanity’s brain chemistry is altered ever so slightly: maybe some tree grew an oddǃ patch of moss that primitive man ingested, changing the course of human evolutionǃ millions of years into the future and creating her. Cultural and social norms do notǃ apply to her. She dances through her reality, or how she perceives it. Or are we allǃ like her? Do we all see reality in our own unique ways, of which hers is just moreǃ unique than others?ǃ ǄǄ Is the subconscious both body and mind? What is the difference betweenǄ body and mind? Really, the mind isn’t metaphysical or anything, it’s stillǄ just a mass of cellular connections like the rest of the body. The spinal cordǄ connects thought and body, which is really just body and body, thought andǄ thought. There’s no difference between mind and body. They are one andǄ the same. Your reflexes, movements, interactions with reality are just asǄ physical as they are metaphysical. The subconscious connects to theǄ conscious, like a wishbone. But what if it snaps?Ǆ ǄǄ There is no destruction; there is no creation. Energy and matter can only beǄ transformed.Ǆ ǄǄ ǃ Biology vs. Environment:ǃ ǄǄ The argument of nature vs. nurture is a futile one. There is no difference.Ǆ What is nature is nurture and vice versa. To explain this, it is important toǄ go back to the beginning of man. The first crack of stones on a termiteǄ mound to break it open: easier access for our ape maws. That firstǄ destructive urge was also our first creative one. What is ‘artificial’ orǄ ‘man-made’ is just nature’s game. Are we not ourselves, artificialǄ intelligence? Is mother nature not just one superorganism on its ownǄ subconscious track? So really, all is nature. Raising your child a certain wayǄ is nature. That is not you. That is nature’s subconscious, you cog. AnarchistsǄ are sheep just as much as you think the workforce is. While ‘existing’, aǄ

35Ǆ

person’s development is as much due to their surroundings as to theirǄ inherent, pre-existing genetic instruction.Ǆ ǄǄ “The urge for destruction is also a creative urge”ǄǄ –Pablo PicassoǄ ǄǄ ǃ Cannibals:ǃ ǄǄ Over 500 million years in the vacuum of space, dust collected. IncrediblyǄ slowly, atoms clung to atoms, dust clung to dust, rock clung to rock, untilǄ accretion created our sun and all its planets. This stellar dust makes upǄ everything we know: our arms, our houses, the ground we stand on, theǄ goose feathers in our pillows, the components in your phone. So, what’s theǄ big difference between everything? Nothing, really. We are the same asǄ everything else, just constructed differently. We are the dog begging forǄ food under the table, the Eiffel Tower, the little rock next to a patch of grassǄ in Siberia, Mount Everest and the people who’ve summited it, the waterǄ spat out into the ocean by a sewage pipe on the other side of the world, theǄ pack of cigarettes just discarded by a man driving a red Toyota Tundra, andǄ the man. Who cares though right? Our lives will come to an end; ourǄ neurons will call a mutual cease fire. Isn’t that the destiny of life: plagued byǄ the will of evolution to consume until there’s nothing left to? But if we areǄ everything, aren’t we consuming ourselves?Ǆ ǄǄ ǃ The Island:ǃ ǄǄ The island is about 4000 kilometers south of Hawaii. In the shallow waterǄ surrounding it, you can find the remains of a small submarine, a crane, andǄ various types of ammunition, but no weapons. In the center is the ruin of aǄ Cold War military compound. Aquatic wildlife generally stays away from it;Ǆ there are no coral or fish to be found within a fifty foot radius of theǄ shoreline, and if one were to take a sample of the water and look at it underǄ a microscope, it’d be devoid of bacteria as well.Ǆ ǃǃ ǃ ǃ ǃ

36Ǆ

Angels:ǃ ǄǄ The two privates stepped apprehensively into the lieutenant’s office,Ǆ instantly feeling out of place, somewhere they weren’t supposed to be. TheǄ lieutenant, a wiry man, looked up from the documents he’d been reading.Ǆ His hair was thin and gray though his structure was still younger, aged notǄ past his fifth decade. His spectacles matched his frame, and he removedǄ them, folded them, and placed them on the papers. Standing up, he greetedǄ the first private, with whom he was familiar, with a military handshake. TheǄ second private saluted, to which the lieutenant responded with a nod. BloodǄ pulsed through the first private’s veins. His heart rate rose to 160 beats perǄ minute. The blood in his veins boiled. All of his DNA rewound itself,Ǆ separated, and unlocked, releasing an angel. What was behind theǄ lieutenant’s countenance, his façade, was truth.ǄǄ Ǆ Phanuel awoke after realizing his reunion. He took Raphael, and they brokeǄ through space, ascending upwards with impossibility. The compoundǄ shakes violently with stupefaction, then annihilates itself.Ǆ Ǆ

37Ǆ

Untitled by Yixin (Charlotte) Xu ‘20

38Ǆ

Two Poems by Timothy Lacy ‘22 Indigenous Manǃ Indigenous ManǄ From Mississippi Mound HighǄ And the bison black prairieǄ And the Arctic IceǄ Build a city in the mountainǄ Build up corn grass tooǄ Don’t know many things suchǄ A man couldn’t doǄ Don’t care if it’s YankeeǄ Or it’s redcoat townǄ Just don’t lure me in with whiskeyǄ And respect my groundǄ From Bad Axe CreekǄ Down to Wounded KneeǄ How close to Blue MaryǄ Can a preacher man beǄ Say we love our smokeǄ And have killed at timesǄ Just keep that with a jokeǄ And we should be fine.Ǆ

39Ǆ

To My Love Behind Corona’s Wallǃ Well this life as I know it has come to an endǄ We’re all fighting’ not to feel locked away.ǄǄ If from liberty’s strife I could see you againǄ Would my touch still feel to you the same.Ǆ When your touch has returned I’ll see color againǄ And I’ll feel the joy of running in the windǄ But will you and the others, bring this all back long with sinǄ And the joy after lead-brazen pain.Ǆ Or will all have succumbed to life drinking in bedǄ Exhilarated by the world looking like on TV.Ǆ Will you still feel the elements in your eyes and beneath your chestǄ And understand what’s built with our hands.Ǆ Or will ships disappear forever from the sea.Ǆ And we stay where we rest untired bonesǄ Is this the casket, of a warm summer’s day in the breezeǄ To see you right now, I would leave my homeǄ And maybe see what’s left of someone who’s died.Ǆ

40Ǆ

Ǆ Contributorsǃ Yiyun (Bonnie) Bao ‘20Ǆ William Brodhead ‘20Ǆ Gwendolyn Brown ‘20Ǆ Izzie DiGiacomo ‘20Ǆ Matthew Eghdami ‘20Ǆ Max Farrar ‘21Ǆ Ally Gerry ‘21Ǆ Jack Gleason ‘21Ǆ Josie Hahn ‘21Ǆ Jolie Kaplan ‘20Ǆ Timothy Lacy ‘22Ǆ Junjie (Frank) Ma ‘20Ǆ Joyce McFarland ‘20Ǆ Catie Stammen ‘20Ǆ Yixin (Charlotte) Xu ‘20Ǆ You (Yoyo) Zhang ‘22Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ

41Ǆ

Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ Ǆ

Ǆ Special thanks to the English and Art DepartmentsǄǄ for assistance with this publication.ǄǄ For back issues of the Stray Shot, go toǄǄ https://www.frederickgunn.org/student-life/student-publicationsǄ Faculty Editor: Mr. VisentinǄ

42Ǆ