The Mav Mind | Volume 3 Issue 1 | November 2023

the mav mind journal of art and literature volume i, issue iii ~ growth

Copyright 2023 by Mav It Your Way Publishing All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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the mav mind journal of art and literature

the nueva middle school volume iii, issue i fall 2023

themavmind.wixsite.com/the-mav-mind 6565 Skyline Blvd Hillsborough, CA 94010

Editing Team Editor-in-Chief: Raya I. Editorial Director: Avery C. Managing Editor: Rose M. Art Editors Maya L., Winter D., Joey G., Talia R., Veda P., Christina H., Maya S., Yuni L., Chloe N., Kylie S., Stella L. Fiction Editors Lead: Elin R. Annabelle S., Ira S., Maya S., Veda P., Christina H. Nonfiction Editors Lead: Chiara D. Jason R., Cat C., Ellie K. Poetry Editors Lead: Sierra E. Maya M., Clara S., Amruth S., Joey G., Maddie B., Maya S., Veda P., Vivienne J. Marketing Team Cat C., Chloe T., Ellie K., Jax L., Lexie S., Fiona F.

Contents Front Cover Untitled - Christina H., 8 1 Editor’s Note - Raya I., 8 2 The Negative Sapling - Yuni L., 5 3 Icarus - Lauren J., 8 4 A Little Seed - Stella L., 6 5 Together - Vivienne J., 6 6 Once Upon a Tree - Ming-Yi T., 7 7 nights - Ayda D., 8 8 I Am The Person Who Has Grown - Natalie D., 7 10 Shed to Grow - Kylie S., 5 11 The Mavericks Growth Mind - Annabelle S., 6 12 Side by Side - Oliver R., 7 14 Throughout the Years - Kepler Q., 7 15 The Secret Life of Certain Very Specific Trees - Joey G.,7 18 Flower Power - Chloe N., 5 19 Journey to Lake Tahoe - Amruth S., 6 20 Redwood Trees - Mia T., 7

22 Past Wishes - Isabella Z. & Alison L., 7 23 Growing Up Is Scary (For Me, At Least) - Anonymous, 8 26 Me - Daphne F., 5 27 The Growing Mind - Maya M., 6 28 Regrowing World - Maddie B., 6 29 Clover - Anonymous, 7 Back Cover Grow - Valentina T., 7

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Editor's Note

Dear Middle School, Welcome to Volume III, Issue I of The Mav Mind Journal of Art and Literature! We are absolutely thrilled to welcome you to this magazine.

This issue’s theme is growth. Students took this in many different directions; you can find poetry about nature, a nonfiction article about trees, and stunning art about personal growth. While many of our contributors put a nature spin on this theme, it also reflects an important moment in the history of The Mav Mind.

The magazine began as an untitled digital newsletter; in 2021, it became an online magazine called The Mav Mind. What you hold in your hands is the first print issue of our newest iteration, The Mav Mind Journal of Art and Literature. All our content is created, edited, and formatted by students, although we do have the help of our phenomenal faculty advisor, Anna Lyon. I would also like to thank the amazing team of editors and marketers who helped bring this magazine to life! You are the backbone of The Mav Mind.

We're so excited to share this milestone with you and hope you enjoy the art and literature our contributors have created! And, as always, don't hesitate to email me at rayilie@nuevaschool.org or Anna at alyon@ nuevaschool.org if you have any questions—we are always happy to help out.

Best wishes, Raya

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The Negative Sapling Yuni L., 5 Once upon a time, there lived a small, green sapling. He stayed rooted in the ground, and he could barely see the possibilities around him. He stood there sad and cloudy, as he had been waiting for years to grow, but he just stayed in the form of a sapling. So years passed by, decades came, and centuries eventually wore away, yet the sapling was still a sapling.

“I’ll never become an apple tree. That’s impossible,” the sapling spoke dejectedly. This continued on and on until…

Plop! A little seedling fell from the sky. The sapling watched in amazement as it grew and grew until it was a sapling itself. Then, to his horror, the new sapling began to talk to him.

“Hey! Aren’t you so excited to become a tree?” she asked.

“Haha, I’m never going to become a tree,” he replied.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not good enough. I’ve been waiting for years!” he said.

“Just try!”

“Okay, but it won’t work,” he replied.

So, he tried. He tried and focused and worked day and night for a whole eight days, trying and trying and trying. And just when it was time for the sapling to give up, he grew and grew and grew.

His stem grew wide, rough, and brown, his leaves multiplied by the hundreds, and small red apples grew on top. He raised up to the sky and saw the possibilities around him. And to this day, he stands, proud and high, not because of talent, but because he tried and tried and tried.

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Icarus Lauren J., 8 I think Icarus ignored the warnings on purpose.

I think he stared at the sky all day long, fantasizing about any escape from his strangled world.

Watching the birds —so free— singing and soaring and wished he could be one too And then he was handed wings. and so he flew. and he did not stop.

Each wing beat was a promise an ember of hope, further and further away from everything he had ever hated and scorned.

Towards the birds he flew, towards the sun towards the end of the world, and as his father yelled at him.

He screamed, pleaded and begged.

Icarus soared higher.

All he wanted was away.

And I think that as his broken and bloodied fingertips brushed the sun at last, he smiled.

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A Little Seed Stella L., 6 A little seed, small but mighty.

With the right conditions, it will grow.

A little sprout blooming out, reaching for the sky, the sun, the air, the world.

Surviving obstacle courses like scurrying animals, strong winds, trampling humans, and much, much more.

But the little sprout will get stronger, bolder, wiser, taller.

The little sprout is not so little anymore.

The sprout sees above and below, feeling the energy, stretching as far as it will go.

It looks over everyone, over the bright sky, with its sturdy trunk.

Branching here and there, around and around and everywhere.

Leaves forming, roots stabilizing, gaining confidence, knowledge, a sense of familiarity.

Becoming the grand, wise tree it was meant to be.

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Together Vivienne J., 6

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Once Upon a Tree Ming-Yi T., 7

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nights Ayda D., 8

shadows shift along the walls moonlight drifts and owls call crickets start their nightly drawl

midnight comes and raindrops fall squirrels hide their acorn haul down the trees they deftly crawl

creatures large and creatures small stubby shrubs and redwoods tall dance in darkness, sing with gall

i want to live it all

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I Am The Person Who Has Grown Natalie D., 7 I am the person who loves a morning sunrise glowing like a crystal light, soft cushions on my bed molding to my shape, my family’s voices ringing in my ears, the aroma of freshly picked lavender, sweet cinnamon cookies fresh out of the oven, or simple things like when people hold the door open, or laugh at a joke or smile as I'm passing by.

I am the person who enjoys hugging my dog, dancing in the rain, riding bareback on my horse, singing in the shower, eating freshly made pasta.

I am the person who creates memories with friends and family, smiles on others' faces, friend groups that stick together, problems that I need to solve.

I am the person who grows by trying new things, making mistakes, asking questions, putting myself out there.

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I am the person who understands what it's like to feel pure joy, what it's like to struggle, what it's like to feel left out, what it's like to be in pain, what it's like to be bullied.

But I am the person who overcomes my fears, stands up for myself and others, heals myself physically and mentally, includes others everywhere, and I make sure I feel safe.

I am the person who shares my overall positivity, my creative ideas, my detailed life story, who I am on the inside, what I’ve created, what I love, and how I have grown.

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Shed to Grow Kylie S., 5 Sometimes you need to shed to grow.

To breathe out old regrets and breathe in new.

To burn away old feelings and from their ashes become new.

Like a painting, linking different colors to different feelings or experiences, exciting or angry to blooming yellow or flashing red.

Sometimes you want to start over with a blank canvas and new colors.

Sometimes that means to express your feelings in movement, sound, cooking, pictures, words, sculptures, or coding like a pie, every slice a different flavor.

Try all the flavors and see which flavor you like best.

For some it’s movement, sound, cooking.

For others, pictures, words, sculptures, or coding.

Sometimes it means trying something new.

To branch out like a tree.

Sometimes you need to shed to grow.

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The Mavericks Growth Mind Annabelle S., 6

Failvre

You

eserence

Lessons

Learne Parentol Love

First

Bperiences

|School

Your Nature

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Side by Side Oliver R., 7

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Tears Smiles Growth

Storms Water Growth

A baby, alone, footsteps in the distance.

A parent picking up the baby.

The parent speaks to the baby, showing her love.

A seedling alone twigs snap in the distance.

A squirrel staring down at the seedling.

The squirrel places a nut, showing his love.

Tears Smiles Growth

Storms Water Growth

A toddler, taking his first steps.

He falls, yet he gets back up.

A sapling growing its first branch.

It wilts, yet grows back.

Tears Smiles Growth

Storms Water Growth

A child, walking into school for the first time.

Ready for a fruitful year.

A branch, sprouting an apple for the first time.

Ready for a fruitful year.

Tears Smiles Growth

Storms Water Growth

A teen becomes a high schooler.

Entering the school with friends.

A tree becomes a fruit tree.

Entering the clouds with friends.

Homework, stress.

Yet he comes out victorious, diploma in hand.

Termites, storms.

Yet he comes out victorious, fruit hanging from every branch.

Tears Smiles Growth

Storms Water Growth

A wise adult, walking down the aisle.

Marriage.

A surprise.

A child, a family.

A mighty tree, branches stretching down.

The forest, growth.

A surprise, a nest, a bird.

A wise adult, walking to an important interview.

He says that there's someone better.

A year later, working hard, now the best in his field.

A mighty tree, growing taller.

Surviving his first storm.

Yet still, there are taller trees.

A year later, still growing, now the tallest in the forest.

Tears Smiles Growth

Storms Water Growth

A wizened old man, proud of the life he’s lived.

Resting peacefully, awaiting his last moments, ready to take his final steps.

Walking forward into the forest, he sees a tall old tree and approaches it.

Sitting down, protected by the shade, a person and a tree, and side by side for the very end.

A tall old tree, proud of the life he’s lived.

Sitting, rotting, awaiting his last moments.

Ready to live his final days.

Reaching upward toward the sky, he sees a content old man approaching him, sitting down.

Protected by the shade, a tree and a person, and side by side for the very end.

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Throughout The Years Kepler Q., 7

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The Secret Life of Certain Very Specific Trees Joey G., 7 A tree is a woody plant belonging to the kingdom of plantae. Among the around 64,000 species of trees that have been discovered, there are several notable species that exist. The coastal redwood, or Sequoia Sempervirens, includes the tallest tree on earth [1]. The oldest tree in the world is a Great Basin bristlecone pine, or Pinus Longaeva [2]. All of these species lead a different life with different growth patterns. For example, the coastal redwood trees often live in crowded forests, where sunlight is hard to get but essential. Because of this, coastal redwoods evolved a growth pattern that allows them to have quick access to sunlight.

The tallest tree, Hyperion, is a Coastal Redwood. Its height measures up to 380 feet, seventy-five feet more than the Statue of Liberty from ground to torch. Surprisingly, it is only sixteen feet wide and around 600-900 years old, with roots only twelve feet deep [3]. Plugging in the values for average growth per year, we find that Hyperion grows a threatening five inches average per year. A pamphlet from UC Davis says that coastal redwoods achieve most of their vertical growth in their first hundred years, meaning that Hyperion probably would have grown at least an astounding twenty inches per year in its first one hundred years, likely to speed ahead of old trees that were taking up needed sunlight [4]. On the other hand, Hyperion is sixteen feet in diameter, or eight feet in radius. Using Hyperion’s nine hundred year age estimate, its radius would have grown 1/10 of an inch every year on average. (Looking into a tree’s rings shows that the tree's radius grows consistently per year.) Its growth rate is comparable to the coast live oak, with a 1/9 inch per year growth in radius. However, while Hyperion grew five inches average per year in height, a coast live oak grows two inches instead. Hyperion’s horizontal growth rate is slow compared to 15

its vertical growth rate, suggesting that its life optimized vertical growth rather than growth in width. Likely a result of evolution, Hyperion grew rapidly to tower above other trees and take up sunlight, as sunlight was more important than factors such as strength or rootedness. Other trees have evolved much different growth patterns, though.

The official oldest tree too has a nickname, Methuselah. It is currently 4,855 years old. While the exact dimensions of this tree are not known widely to the public, the general radius of a bristlecone pine, the species of Methuselah, is known, at 4 to 5.5 feet [5]. Using these dimensions, Methuselah would have grown only 1/101 to 1/74 inches per year in radius, comparable to laying two pieces of paper on the tree’s trunk every year. Bristlecone pines such as Methuselah can only grow to a height of thirty feet, meaning that Methuselah probably only grew 1/13 of an inch every year in height on average. Its location and climate gives us insight into its growth rate. Methuselah lives in the mountains, almost directly below the tree line, a term for the boundary between the places suitable for trees and those that are not. Due to this, the weather is cold and harsh. Because of the harsh climate, the forest is sparse. There is no fight for sunlight, as in Hyperion’s case, so bristlecone pines do not optimize height. While snow and wind are a factor, there is no risk of hurricanes or mudslides, so the trees do not need to optimize root strength or width either. Instead, the trees simply optimize growing. Because of the climate, nutrients are not abundant, so the trees grow very slowly. This slow growth helps the bristlecone pines live much longer, like how slow metabolism helps animals achieve a longer lifespan.

Notable trees have notable growth patterns. Hyperion, the tallest tree, lives in a forest where sunlight was fought for, so its species evolved to grow tall and fast. Methuselah, the oldest tree, lives in a harsh forest where there is no competition, but nutrients are hard to come by, so its

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species evolved to grow slowly for a very, very long time. All trees have their own growth pattern often adapted to the environment. In fact, growth patterns often offer insight into the secret lives of trees, remaining a crucial part of understanding these species.

Works Cited 1. “Tallest Tree Living.” Guinness World Records, www.guinnessworldrecords.com/ world-records/tallest-tree-living. Accessed 10 Sept. 2023.

2. “Oldest Living Individual Tree.” Guinness World Records, https://www. guinnessworldrecords.com/world-records/oldest-living-individual-tree. Accessed 10 Sept. 2023.

3. “The World’s Tallest Tree Is Officially Off-Limits.” Smithsonian Magazine, https://www.smithsonianmag.com/smart-news/the-worlds-tallest-tree-is-officially-offlimits-180980509/. Accessed 10 Sept. 2023.

4. “Should I Grow A Redwood?” University of California, Davis Arboretum, https://arboretum.ucdavis.edu/sites/g/files/dgvnsk1546/files/inline-files/redwood_ exhibits_0.pdf. Accessed 10 Sept. 2023.

5. “Tree Profile: Bristlecone Pine.” National Forest Foundation, https://www. nationalforests.org/blog/tree-profile-bristlecone-pine. Accessed 10 Sept. 2023.

6. “Methuselah Tree - Ancient Bristlecone National Forest.” Atlas Obscura, https:// www.atlasobscura.com/places/methuselah-tree. Accessed 10 Sept. 2023.

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Flower Power Chloe N., 5

My legs are vines, creeping higher and higher up a rough-shelled tree

Invasive, confused, in a new place

I feel like I am shrinking, my petals falling, my spirit dwindling,

until rain revives me

The rain, maverick blue,

is calming, like a cold, icy hug

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Journey to Lake Tahoe Amruth S., 6

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Redwood Trees Mia T., 7 My father once told me A story about an old redwood tree.

How she stood tall and proud, Her sprawling limbs Clothed in emerald green.

How she was a mere sapling, Sheltered by her kinfolk And basking in the safety of The warm, Dappled light.

There in the forest, In the Cathedral of the Redwoods, A collective chant rises to the heavens In a soft hum of harmony, As the trees sing as one.

A song too delicate for the ears But can be heard with the soul.

I am now on the inside, There is no stench of burning through.

The hollow is dusted black and Smears my fingers with powder, last motes of the fire.

I can feel the shift, The old me dissolving Into this pool of former things, While the new me rises Along with the rising vines, and flowers In the spring.

I feel like a redwood tree in a forest With all this new growth, I’ve been watering myself, And there’s still some more to go.

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I pick at the walls, Draw strips as pliant and hardy as dollhair.

Through lightning and wildfires, Droughts and acid soil, A redwood thrives: Two thousand years old, And still young.

A rustle—and through the Split bark, A bird climbs in.

From the trees, I learned that growth isn’t orderly.

Under the surface, Roots thrust out in ways That are chaotic and untidy.

But they produce a solid foundation For a lifetime of growth.

From the trees, I learned that change is possible.

Even the kind of change That rendered us unrecognizable.

From the trees, I learned that at the end of the season When all looks bleak, even dead, There remains an undercurrent Of new possibilities.

We can all look a little deeper and find That there are always things that thrive Even in the harshest of conditions.

You and I, We are growing endlessly, Just like redwood trees.

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Past Wishes Isabella Z. & Alison L., 7

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Growing Up Is Scary (For Me, At Least) Anonymous, 8 While I’m excited to have freedom and be making my own decisions in adulthood, I’m also very anxious about it. It’s my last year of middle school, and high school is just around the corner. And while I’m still so young, I feel like so much of my life has been wasted just being scared of the future.

A Peek Into My Brain I picture it as a ball of yarn, and whenever I need to think, I unwind it a bit. But in my moments, I’ll drop the ball, or somehow throw it across a cliff and it’ll boomerang back to me in a tangled mess. Then I’ll spend the rest of the day picking apart at the knots, inadvertently tying even more. As if that wasn’t enough, a giant pair of shears appear in my hand and I start to cut it furiously, snipping it until all the ends are frayed and the little fibers are flying around the room (which, by the way, is an endless white void). Then when I try to sort my thoughts out and put them into neat little labeled boxes, my crappy memory makes them disappear. Finally, my ever-shortening attention span and limited patience makes me give up, and I set the whole pile ablaze. And no, I can’t focus on my breath or just calm down. None of that works when my inner demons are far more convincing and better at getting me all shaken up.

My brain will spiral for hours and hours if left unchecked—like right before I have to wake up early the next morning—about many of the following: Adulting/Money Whenever I see adults stressed out about anything, my mind jumps to imagining how stressed I’ll be when I’m their age. The endless bills, keeping up with credit card debts, gas prices, getting fired…the usual.

My hair will be falling out just from waiting for the tax forms to come in. Who teaches you about how to be responsible and survive on your 23

own? It’s certainly not offered in a class (but it really should be— someone needs to show me how to change a tire).

I can’t handle anything with money, either. I lose my mind when I step into a mall jewelry store and my friends have to stop me from buying all the little shiny things. And when (or maybe if, if we’re going with that pessimistic mindset here) I get a job, my imposter syndrome keeps me from reaching my full potential. I could rant forever about my fear of college. I know I’m not the only one who has a severe case of procrastination, and I’m definitely not prepared for the workloads of a fast-paced world where time doesn’t care if you’re scared or not; it just flies by and expects you to run along with it.

Being Alone I love my alone time, but I can’t tolerate being alone for too long.

Whenever I’m home alone, I crank up the volume on the TV just in case someone decides to rob me in broad daylight. I’ll have a heart attack if I hear something—the window swinging, the door creaking, the clock ticking ominously. And I’ll drop dead if I see a spider, especially if they’re the large, gangly ones with weird legs. I have a crippling fear of spiders, and while I can squish the small ones, I’m paralyzed when they crouch above my bed in an unreachable corner of the ceiling. The littlest of things become major obstacles that stand in the way of my own independence.

Time/Death We’ve all thought about it, haven’t we? What happens when we inevitably succumb to fate? Will our presence have made an impact on the world, and if so, how big? Who will forget about us, who will cry?

Who am I uninviting from my funeral?

I’m only thirteen, and probably fourteen by the time you see this.

Thirteen is such a small number when you look at people who are eighty, ninety, even over a hundred years old. But while I’m only thirteen, at the same time, I’m thirteen. Three years ago, I was ten, nearly eleven. I couldn’t even picture turning thirteen—that’s so old!

Middle schoolers? Those people belong in olden legends.

We’re closer to 2028 than 2018. In nearly four years, people my age 24

will be catapulted into the world—some with parachutes and soft landing pads, and others who will crash-land on the tarmac of society.

And while my sunny days now are (mostly) stress-free and light with homework, the shadow of imminent agony looms over me.

I know this may sound silly—me panicking about adulthood while I still have many teenage years left. But I feel like if I don’t plan every detail ahead of time, I’ll lose control of my own life. And while every person I’ve talked to about it—especially the older folk—has told me to just “go with the flow” or “roll with the ball” or “let it happen,” I picture so many ways my life could go wrong. I always forget that while there are infinite ways my life could fall apart, there are also endless ways I could have a great experience. My fear of growing up, that will hopefully diminish, still has me in a chokehold. Please tell me I’m not the only one.

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Me Daphne F., 5 though i may be invisible foggy cloudy free, though i may not exist, i may be visible for me i might be hidden and broken to pieces all around i still have a heart a soul a meaning, though i am hidden in clouds some people don’t remember the things that i did cause i’m weird artistic selfless, not enough for anyone but me 26

The Growing Mind Maya M., 6

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Regrowing World Maddie B., 6

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Clover Anonymous, 7

The stem slowly pokes up through the soil.

Leaves slowly sprout, reaching for the sun.

It grows taller and taller, turning a leafy green and starting a new patch of clover.

crowding it, taking its nutrients.

But still, the clover survives, feeding off of a tiny drop of water until the monster comes and yanks out the other plants.

But then a monster comes and yanks it out.

The monster digs to expose the thin roots and yanks them out one by one.

The clover can grow alone now, but all the plants around it are gone.

It is forgotten, gets no water or fertilizer, and slowly wilts.

But deep underground, there is one tiny fragment of a root.

And the root slowly grows, extending towards the sun, regrowing its leaves, and the clover pokes out of the ground.

But then new clover starts growing around it, sharing its nutrients, and the patch of clover spreads, reminding everyone that it is still there.

Then plants start growing around it, squeezing it,

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The Mav Mind Journal of Art and Literature is a student-run magazine published by middle schoolers at The Nueva School in Hillsborough, California.