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OTMS LIterary Magazine
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the vibe OTMS literary magazine
spring 2012
2012 lit mag committee:
ty herdtner
madee hoyt
lucy li
alycia martin
alexandra miller
quinn reitz
sam strohkorb
sarah theisen
samyu trikkur
jordan vorndran
2012 lit mag
sponsors:
chrissy nance
alison crane
Table of Contents
1. The Beach
2. Untitled Photo
3. My Family
4. Masks
5. Untitled Photo
6. Got Ice?
7. Untitled Photo
8. Cars
9. Untitled Photo
10. Power
11. Wen Wen
12. The Escape
13. The Snowy Owls
14. My Life
15. Fairy Tale (Parts 1 & 2)
16. Oil Lamp
17. The Path
18. Traveling Cage
19. Untitled Photo
20. The Ironman
21. Untitled
22. Untitled Photo
23. Really?!
24. The Seasons
25. Abraham Lincoln
26. Feelings and Life, As It Is
27. Untitled Photo
28. That White Woman
29. Jessica
30. DumbleSugar
31. OTMS Falcons
32. Untitled
Carley Becker
Monica Melber
Kelly Hendershot
Nick Nazzaro
Monica Melber
Lucy Li
Mackenzi Thompson
Inkoo Kang
Anna Price
Orunima Chakriborti
Michelle Fan
Rose Muldoon
Rose Muldoon
Sarah Theisen
McKenna Lundeen
Mya Levitch
Jai Singh
J. Grant Thomas
Monica Melber
Jack Zink
Archie Cherkashyn
Sam Strohkorb
Chelsea Tinney
Angella Ashley
Samyu Trikkur
Shwetha Ramachandran
Mackenzi Thompson
Orunima Chakriborti
Natalie Russo
Hailey Tassone
Jake Kaufman
LeeAnn Wilson
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5
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12
14
15
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46
The Beach
By Carley Becker
The warm summer sun beating down
The seagulls chirping
The waves crashing to the shore
The sand being used for sandcastles
The kids splashing in the water
The warm sand squishing between my toes
The seashells being found
The fish being caught
The sail boats gliding across the water
Oh, the great memories at the beach
My Family
By Kelly Hendershot
A circus without a ringmaster
TALL TREES living among bushes
A fairy tale with trials and problems but always has a happy ending
A delicious home cooked meal
Your favorite stuffed animal
Whiteout covering up mistakes made by others
A cheetah that won’t stop running
Something that you can always look back on and laugh
Masks
By Nick Nazzaro
Why are people fake? Why do people hide in the shadows of others? Why do people
not express their own interests? These are all great questions that I ask myself every day.
People put themselves behind masks all the time just to try to be someone they are not. There
are different types of masks in this world. The ones who put on masks to try to fit in, others to
be in the “popular” crowd, and others to prevent the world from seeing their true emotions.
Some people will wear one mask, others will wear many.
The most popular mask to put on is the one to try and fit in with a certain group. People
want to be someone they are not. If they want to pursue a certain interest but know it is
“uncool” in the eyes of a certain group, then that person won’t follow through with that
activity, but instead, do something that they really don’t like, just to try to fit in. It makes no
sense to me. Why would anyone be someone they are not to try to hang out with people with
completely different interests as them?
Certain people will wear their mask to be “popular.” I know a story of a tragic incident
that happened to a high school student at a party. This person went to a small party with just a
few friends to hang out. The parents weren’t home so kids at this party kept inviting more and
more people. The host’s best friend was such a good kid. This person never did anything bad in
their life, until this particular party. One of the “cooler” kids that showed up later in the night
brought cigarettes. The kid who got mixed in to this soon-to-be-bad situation happened to be
outside when the “popular” kid was smoking a cigarette with a few others. They offered the kid
a cigarette. “Yeah, I’ve smoked all the time before.” The kid lied. To feel accepted, the kid took
the cigarette. The person thought to themselves, well, it’s just one cigarette. What could it do? I
have to be accepted. This person will think I am cool and might invite me to hang out another
time. What could one little cigarette do? This person took the cigarette and didn’t look back.
They put a mask on to feel as though they fit in with the “cool” kids.
The last mask that is common in today’s world is to wear a mask to hide feelings and
emotions. Kids will always wear that plastic smile to look as though their life is all right when
they are really dying on the inside. It happens all the time from family problems, home issues,
friend conflicts, to failing school, or a lost relative. People don’t open up and tell trusted adults
how they feel. They act as if everything in their life is okay, when really it is all crashing down on
them. People who don’t open up and find help to their problems will generally make them
worse as time goes on. This could lead to more dangerous things including drugs, alcohol,
hurting themselves, or even as serious as suicide. Sadly, it has gone that far for some, but it
doesn’t have to be like that for everyone. Every single person in this world is loved more than
they will ever know.
Masks are worn constantly, by all people in the world, sometime or another in their
lives. People just have to express who they want to be. People are fake all the time. Think…are
you fake? Do you hide your emotions or live in the shadow of another person? I know I have
worn a mask before. Drop your mask. Follow your heart. Love your life. Be yourself.
Got Ice? By Lucy Li
Have you ever walked through a small city of ice? Ever since Winter Break, I’ve
been able to say that I have. Over the break, I went to a two-week camp in Harbin, China. Harbin is in China’s
northernmost province and is extremely cold, experiencing subzero temperatures every winter. Chinese-by-blood kids from all over the world came to this frozen city to attend winter camp.
Our activities at camp included skiing, sightseeing, and martial arts, but one particular trip that really stood out for me was visiting Harbin’s annual Ice and Snow Festival. Before I first set eyes on the dazzling scene, I knew it was going to be “pretty cool”, but I wasn’t expecting it to be so colorful and big. There was a lot to do – you could go down a towering slide, run under an archway, or admire a giant ice Coca-Cola bottle. The craftsmanship was amazing. I can only imagine how long it must have taken the architects to build the entire place from the ground up.
All of the huge structures at the festival were made of thousands of blocks of ice and displayed with multicolored lights against the dark sky. People wandered around, comically slipping and trying not to fall on the slick ice. Everything was covered with a thin layer of snow, completing the magic of the Ice and Snow Festival.
This is a picture I took while standing at the top of an ice building:
Car
By Inkoo Kang
I wanted to buy me a car so I went down to the store
But the guy yelled at me and kicked me out the door
Then I said I’ll get a Chevy but I knew I was going to get bored
So I said maybe a Mercury or maybe even a Ford
I went but none of them were fancy
So I went on a boat and went to Francy
There I met a guy named Lee
He told me he’ll sell me a Bugatti
I was very happy and jumping for joy
But when he gave it to me it turned out to be a toy
So I slapped him in the face and went on my way
To a land far, far away
I went to Japan
And there was a man with a fan
He told me he’ll give me a Honda
But when he gave it to me it was an anaconda
I shrieked and ran as fast as I can
I ran so fast I ran Saipan
But there were no cars there so I just left quickly
I left so fast I went to Germany
I went and look at a Mercedes
But the seller looked like Hades
And the car looked cool
But if I bought it I would’ve been a fool
So I went on the plane
And then I went back to L.A.
There I saw a Cadillac
It had a really cool back
I went to buy it but I had no money since the traveling and the fuss
So I just sadly took the bus.
Power
By Orunima Chakraborti
Power is a prickly vine, creeping slowly into our judgments and crushing human sense.
Power rules the human mind with an iron fist.
Power is a temptation.
Why do we want it? Why do we care?
Because after all…
Power is pain every step of the way.
The bitter cold wind of sacrifice soon replaces
what may have been seen as popularity.
Power is a curse on those who have it
more than those who live under it.
Power is unfortunately, the human essence,
and what we must remember, is that power is most important in the hands of those
who don’t want it.
The Escape
By Rose Muldoon
Lila yawned, stretched, and stumbled sleepily to the edge of the branch she'd been
sleeping on. To her bleary eyes, the early evening looked like a child's painting, with the colors
all smudged together. Slowly, the night came into focus, and soon Lila wished she once again
couldn't see.
If her eyes were still sleepy, she couldn't see the heavy iron bars that kept her from
flying into the night. She couldn't see the bucket of wretched drips and drabs that she was
forced to eat to stay alive. She couldn't see the men and women in white pantsuits that were
the ones who kept her imprisoned.
There's one now, Lila thought unhappily, a scowl forcing her beak downward. A woman
(Margaret, Lila thought she was called) stomped into the Snowy Owl cage and called out,
"Josefina! Food!" Lila scowled again. The zookeepers insisted that her name was Josefina, a
Spanish name. Lila was outraged at this, especially since she was a Canadian owl. Mexico and
Spain were too far south!
Margaret spun on her heel and sauntered out of the cage. A sudden, mischievous
thought occurred to Lila. She flapped her wings and dove at Margaret's head.
"Aaaaaah!" Margaret screamed. Lila swooped back up with a satisfied smirk on her face.
She'd been doing things like that ever since she was captured and brought here last year. She
enjoyed watching the reactions of her tormentors. The first man she did that to screamed in a
voice higher than most girls and half-ran half-crawled to the door. Margaret, right now, was still
yelling and was shaking so hard she could hardly lock the door. In Lila's opinion they deserved
no less for their daily name-calling, stick-throwing, and under-feeding. Lila wasn't even sure if
what they did was legal, but she had learned that not many people cared about a sickly, two-
year-old snowy owl, even if they were rare.
Lila hated living here, day after day. She occupied most of her time by devising an
escape plan that she knew would never work, but it gave her something to hope for, to hold on
to. But now she had almost given up hope. There was no chance she would try it, and her cage
was constantly guarded. If there was any night to do it, however, it was tonight, because
tomorrow she was being moved from this old, run-down zoo in Washington to a high-security,
modern technology research center in New York, where she would be constantly watched by
animal scientists. It was time for action.
Lila took a deep breath to prepare and steady herself, then opened her beak and let out
a terrible wail. She screeched and screeched. The zookeepers pointed to her and ran to open
the cage and check on her. Now was the time.
Lila swooped low over the surprised guards and flew out the door. She soared up with
the wind and was already long gone by the time the zookeepers recovered their wits and tried
to snag her with a net.
Lila celebrated her escape by doing a few loop-de-loops. She soared toward her
hometown of Boreal, named for the Boreal Forest. She calculated that she had about a day's
journey and settled in for a long 24 hours.
The next day Lila was still flying, stiff and cold, when at last she spotted the landmarks
that she remembered so well. She saw the trees, the lake, and the marks in the air that only a
bird can see, and only an owl can recognize. Lila gasped with excitement and fatigue as she
slowly dropped to the ground. The last thing she remembered before she passed out was a
young owl who looked remarkably like her steeping out from behind a tree and exclaiming with
wonder.
When Lila woke up, she immediately felt comforted. She was laying down on a familiar
nest, in a familiar tree, and silhouetted in the opening of the tree were two familiar owls. They
looked just like...
"Pa?" Lila gasped. "Ma?"
The owls walked slowly over. "It's us, little Lila. You're home."
They called in all Lila's brothers and sisters, and Lila was comforted with all their faces.
Chase. Ollie. Sara. Liz. Brian. All looking at Lila with relief, happiness, love in their eyes.
Looking around, Lila thought, for the first time since last year, I'm home.
My Life
By Sarah Theisen
A vast sea of unpredictable currents,
Bright blue skies choked with gray thunder,
Pouring rain falls so freely and easily,
A dangerous whirlwind hidden beneath the depths,
Fast winds push and pull in all directions,
Floating totally helpless and unsuspecting on the tide,
I am a rose, blooming among the thorns.
Dark, murky waters slap the sands,
A book written without words,
A dance without steps or music,
A sea without its watery soul,
Spoken words but never uttering a sound,
Love, hate, war, peace, life,
I am the sun rays, breaking through the dark clouds.
The dark waters wash away my footsteps,
All traces of my presence, washed away,
A rock beaten until sand,
A river that does not flow,
A crater with no end,
A darkness never to be breached,
I am the light, that moves the darkness,
I am the rose that blooms among the thorns.
A Fairytale
(Part 1)
By McKenna Lundeen
Silvery flakes drifted down, glittering the bright light of the harvest moon. The blackbird
seen on the hollow tree sang a beautiful, dazing song. Everything was peaceful and then it
happened. A speck far into the distance seemed to circle around the stars. As it came closer,
the scales on its large body turned a magnetic indigo. The creature’s strong wings pounded
hard against the cold night air. The trail that led through the black forest seemed to guide an
old man and his Labrador retriever on their nightly walk. The trees rustled in the breeze and
suddenly, an abnormally large bird swooped down through the thick branches of oaks and back
up into the sky. The man and his dog rushed to find where the beast had gone. At the last
moment they watched in awe as the dragon disappeared into the star of the east. The two
companions sprinted to tell the rest of the small town. Once the news was spread, the voyage
was set. The rocket was ready and five people were to take off that very day. As soon as the air
craft pushed off the base, the people of the town started to cheer, for they were going to find a
new land soon into the future. This day would make history…
(Part 2)
The rocket acted as a shooting star, gliding swiftly through the atmosphere. Soon, the
east star was spotted and the target was locked. The ship aimed for the large ball of yellow gas.
The light exploding from the star got brighter and brighter until…A rainbow of sparkles flooded
the windshield and once cleared, a magical world unfolded. The purple dragon was near a
crystal clear lake, seemingly gazing at its own reflection. Fairies danced upon a stone pathway
and a perfectly arched rainbow waterfall into a pot of gold. Unicorns galloped along near
colorful berry bushes. The astronauts half expected little blue Smurfs to come walking through
the grass any second. The satisfaction of this new land exceeded any other new discovery. The
explorers couldn’t wait to tell the rest of the world, but for now they were there and they were
there to stay.
The Path
By Jai Singh
This route is cloaked in thorns, vipers, and fractured glass
There are mountains and thick tributaries you must overcome
The storms and hurricanes above in an eerie sky
Bellow, “disgrace, renounce you fool, you cannot fulfill the quest!”
The path to holiness
Is not always easy
Yet it’s not always arduous
It is not impossible
There are times, the sun shines,
And your visage forms a grin.
Sweet crystal rain, removes the chains,
And your tears fade away
When the sun in the sky
Disappears from your naked eye,
Sustain the sun in your heart
Perseverance, will prosper in a period of plight
God makes your burden light as air and whenever you trip and fall,
He cushions your descent, erects you, and helps you walk, when you’re feeble.
On your journey, you become exceedingly famished.
There will be oases where you can rehydrate yourself and your soul
Needless to panic, needless to mourn
Needless to hide in your shame hole
God will come, and get you out
He delights to console you
There are times, the sun shines,
And your visage forms a grin.
Sweet crystal rain, removes the chains,
And your tears fade away.
Don’t plan to give up
Pick up your matt, get up, walk
Eden waits for you
Just ignore, the ridicule
In Heaven, fear and death are devoid and not dominant
The sapphire waters are fresh, and there are always banquets
Heaven’s adorned with many elegant gardens
In place of weeping, you laugh and sing with all your heart
People can fly, in the sky
The roads are paved with gold
You are warmed, by love and joy
You are cooled by tranquility
There are times, the sun shines,
And your visage forms a grin
Sweet crystal rain, removes the chains
And your tears fade away
When fear has engulfed you,
Don’t gaze at his face.
Imagine a beautiful beach
Imagine a beautiful rainforest
You’re almost there, keep walking
Just 3 more steps to eternal paradise
The Traveling Cage
By Grant Thomas
Being able to go everywhere, but experiencing nothing,
Listening to the mocking bird sing, but unable to put tunes and notes together,
Until the last feather falls, going everywhere in the world, and seeing nothing, but walls,
Trapped in the traveling cage, full of silence and despair, seeing freedom so close, it’s not fair.
Seeing things through a wall of grass, trying to harass, it will not succeed, for it is a sin,
It will not succeed, for I am the master of my fate, the captain of my soul
The Ironman
By Jack Zink
Climbing a mountain
Once finish your certain gold
Start young, end old, for then you feel sold
Seeming to be a salted wound, for you are not in tune
You receive a thermal blanket, for when you will gladly take it
A medal is around your neck, but you are feeling worse than heck
Even the worst of weather can have the best of spirits, hopefully the racers hear it
Untitled
By Archie Cherkashyn
The park was warm, despite that it was well past sunset. Every shadow had watchful
eyes. Eyes that were quick to judge, and this made Ralph walk that much more quickly. With
every step he took, the duffel bag slung over his shoulder gained a pound, but he was
determined. He had to make it to the train station before it was too late. So he briskly walked
past the playgrounds and benches, one thought on his mind: escape. He knew that if he did not
hurry, he was a goner, just like the three others that were not as fortunate as Ralph. Hah! The
fools! They were not nearly as quick as Ralph, and it had taken them all one by one, but now it
was Ralph’s turn. He was last on the list to die. Enough, he thought, I have to hurry, before time
is up, before th- Clang!
Ralph jumped at the sound and his skin crawled, but he didn’t look back. If he looked
back he would be losing precious time.
The previously warm air had now turned cold. Very cold, very fast. He could see his
breath in front of him. And the cricket chirps that had filled the silence were gone now. Now
there was no sound, just void. He could not even hear his feet pound against the paved
sidewalk, or himself wheeze for air as he ran. He was running now! It had not even occurred to
him, but he did not stop.
Then he fell.
He lay upon the pavement, utterly shocked. He had tripped over his own feet, and fallen
flat on his face like a fool. Get up, he thought, Run! He stumbled over himself as he rose, and
almost fell again but regained his balance. “Too late, too far,” he said out loud, “The station’s
too far away. I have to be rid of it now!” The bag! That’s what it was after! Not his life, but the
bag! It would leave him be if he was rid of it!
He looked around and saw the bridge that spanned over the Mire River that cut through
the center of town. The river was the perfect place to drop it into. He took a step and noticed
that he did not have the bag. He whirled around in panic, to find it lying on the ground where
he had fallen a few feet away. Relieved he limped towards it. He grabbed the strap and lifted
the strap when the unthinkable happened. The bag was opened and its contents spilled onto
the ground! This is the end, Ralph thought, and it has come for me. He began to shiver
uncontrollably, and sweat feverishly. The gig was up. He lay curled up on the ground, smiling.
Finally, he could rest. Then a chill overtook his body, and his mind went numb. Then he heard
Death whisper in his ear, “You had a good run, I was almost rooting for you. But I’m only after
one thing and one thing only. Say goodbye to the life you made, good night.”
And all that was left was an empty duffel bag in the middle of a park.
Really?!
By Chelsea Tinney
Mallory couldn’t believe it, she had just had her heart broken the year before and it had
happened again. What was even worse was that he had already gotten a new valentine. A
million thoughts raced through her head: Why always the day before Valentine’s Day? Maybe
I’m just too trusting. It never would have worked out anyway. What a jerk! What she didn’t
realize was that she was just going through all of the toads, that her frog prince was waiting,
hoping she realized it was him, that he was the one she had been searching for. Every year he
had known her she had always gotten a secret valentine slipped into her locker. Brian was just
the guy she helped with reading and he helped her with algebra 2. While Mallory was
distressed, Brian was at home working on her valentine. Every year she had gotten an elaborate
bouquet, a large heart shaped box of chocolates, and a homemade card that read:
Roses are Red
Violets are Blue
You don’t know who I am
But I’m in love with you
Some years she even got a stuffed bear. Mallory always thought it was from a recently
estranged boyfriend, though they never left a name or acted up to it. What Mallory didn’t
realize was that for the past four years Brian had been doing odd jobs and saving all the money
he could, and this year he finally had enough. Mallory was getting a real ruby necklace, her
birthstone, with five stones, one for each Valentine’s Day he had known her. Brian had it all
planned out, the teddy bear would be holding a small rectangular box that was holding the
necklace, the card would have the same poem but also an invite to the Valentine’s Ball.
Mallory always secretly wanted it to be Derek, Brian’s best friend. Derek was also
Mallory’s first love, the one who had started the cycle of dumping the day before Valentine’s
Day; Mallory knew it wouldn’t happen but she still wished. Mallory decided to go to the
Valentine’s Ball and see who her secret admirer was. She decided to wear a red sparkly
sweetheart top with a little poof of a dress that just hit her knees. She was wearing red pumps
with curled hair, and, of course, the ruby necklace.
Brian was doing the same with a red dress shirt and a black suit. He also had a single red
rose tucked into his inside coat, and two final notes as well. The first note read:
“Mallory,
I hope you are not disappointed when you see who I am. Meet me by the
back door.
Sincerely, your secret admirer”
The second note read:
“Mallory,
I’ve always loved you. What do you think, are you disappointed? If you are I can
take a hint and leave you alone.
Love, Brian”
When Mallory was almost to the back door they saw each other and Brian thought she
looked ravishing. Mallory suddenly started to notice everything good about him. He was the
perfect height, his lips red, and eyes she could just fall into, he was her match; she was in love
with Brian. She walked up and, during their embrace, Brian new she was his.
The Seasons
By Angella Ashley
Snow has fallen…
Fallen to the ground…
On the ground and white…
White and frozen...
Frozen and cold…
Cold as ice…
The ice grows as a shell on the snow, spreading to the sidewalk, driveway, and road.
Right through the path of a run to the school bus…a slippery path that makes the child slip.
Slipping…slipping…and falling, falling to the ground just like the snow had before it touched the
earth.
When the child hits the ground it causes the ice to crack. A painful cry from the ice is heard, and
its body is full of cuts and bruises.
The child gets up and continues running to the school bus without ever looking back at the ice
which he had just fell upon.
As the day passes, the dreadful sun begins to rise, with its magnificent crimson rays and
warmth. This is something the ice dreads even more than the boy, because it leads to its death.
The ice is frightened, and has lost its strength from being fell upon.
By now the ice has begun to melt from the snow and the snow to the ground.
Every second a bite had been taken…and every minute twice as more…
The ice knows that this is the end, but also knew that it would live on…live on through the
water that it was made of, like a dead body deteriorating to dust.
The ice, now in another form, sank through the pillow of soil on the earth, and crept through
the cracks in the sidewalk. It leaned to the side of the road splitting in the middle, to reach a
sewer full of the poisons of everyday waste.
As it sank through the soil, the dirt and roots sucked in its nutrients, and the water now was
used for energy.
As the cold winter passed, the sun had eaten up the rest of the frost.
The warmth had now become more severe, and green was appearing.
The sky began to cry because of the loss of its cold companions, and its tears fell in the pillows
of soil, to join the graveyard of frost.
The flowers absorb the tears and use then to bloom. Its pedals are full of pollen, and are
supportive and strong. Strong enough for a bee to land and collect its goodness.
The flying black and yellow goes to its hive, and releases the goodness that the flower provides.
Its hive is connected to a strong arm on a body. A body that has multiple arms, arms made of a
crusty brown. At the tip of each arm, is a blooming leaf, an emerald leaf that waves when the
wind sighs.
However, the waving leafs are not an emerald very long.
After a period of time the sky stopped crying, for it has gotten over the death of winter, and
the sun gets bored of shining brightly.
It is the end of autumn. The grasses have turned tan, and the leaves an orange. Everything is
turning old, and their time has come.
It is not time for the snow to fall, and ice to grow…
The time for a child to slip on their way to the school bus…
The time for icicles to form on the drain pipes of houses…
It is winters turn to take earth and the process to begin again…
Feelings and Life, As It Is
Response to The Giver
By Shwetha Ramachandran
Feelings—that is one thing Jonas receives as Receiver-in-training. Feelings are not a
thing. As Jonas speaks to the Giver, he wishes that language could be more precise…same with
my case. I don’t know how to describe feelings, but you possess feelings deep inside your heart
and soul without knowing it. You possess it just like me and everyone else. You are born with
some feelings and later learn the names of them. But some are nameless that you can just feel.
These are not so easy to grasp or take and keep. You have to receive them, just like Jonas does
from the Giver. Also, just like I do. But where do I get these feelings? How do I receive them?
I play the piano. You’re probably wondering what that has to do with Jonas. But feelings
are the answer. When I play, I experience new feelings from playing, while playing, after
playing, and sometimes before playing. These are feelings that can’t be said, but felt. This is
how I receive those feelings. It is like I am the Receiver and the piano is the Giver. If only I were
like the Giver in the book, and could put my hands on your back, thinking of the memory, and
giving it to you. Many of these feelings are lonesome, longing, moping, fury, frustration, hope,
anger, power, courage, strength, shyness, being a coward, joy, confusion, peacefulness,
pleasantness, romantic, and more.
But I didn’t mention the strongest, most important, unexplainable feeling, love. I know
that I feel it deeper than any one of you. I look at love in a different way. And at the end every
feeling leads me to love. Even in the darkest times, a light will shine and start to grow as you
move towards it, as you follow it, like the most beautiful creation of God in your life. Similarly,
even in the times of no hope, mostly anger, fury, frustration, there will still be a light. That light
is love, is hope, is life, is happiness—that light is your dream, what you desire to be. This light
will take you places, and make sure you find a small door, that gradually enlarges, to be a way
out of your problems and conflicts. And don’t forget, that this light always consists of God, the
force of feeling that is always inside in the light and in you.
That White Woman
By Orunima Chakriborti
“Lucy! Lucy!” Blue-eyed, with hair the color of ripe corn,
She is shoved back into the line with her family
by her mother, that white woman.
“What would happen if you tumbled down that riverbank?
Can you imagine what would happen to me?”
The discussion always turned back to her,
That white woman.
She stands proudly beside my master,
Gown billowing comfortably,
Her little girl put in her place,
Her whimpering baby on her hip.
But no amount of gentleness can disguise that pitiless eye,
That curled lip.
As she watches,
I am pulled away
From the woman who was always willing to die
So that I may live.
I see her coffee-colored face distort
And feel mine do the same.
My howls, her screams, our despair,
And that terrible, desperate agony.
I am expected, no, ordered not to care
That I will never see my mother
Ever again.
And I heard it then and I still hear it now,
The cries of my grandmothers,
and my foremothers before them.
That they must watch, as their children are enslaved,
Bound, tortured,
Killed.
It is no heaven for them, no.
All I feel is a terrible coldness.
My mother is pulled past my mistress,
Kicking and screaming for mercy….
Please….please…... even as the overseer cries stop!
And that woman’s cold stare shows indifference
Nothing more.
We both know, mother and daughter, in our souls,
That white woman
knows not of a mother’s pain.
Jessica
By Natalie Russo
My step sister “Jessica” is one of the craziest people I know. She is only thirteen years
old. She will do anything you ask her to do. But also, she is one of the prettiest and most
loveable people on this planet. She lives in Arkansas with my dad and step mom. Last time I
went down to see them, Jessica told me she was going to do a polar plunge. If you don’t know
what that is, it’s when you jump into a lake in the middle of January with just shorts and a t-
shirt on. There were probably about one hundred people there to do it. Outside it was maybe
about twenty-five degrees. I can’t even imagine how cold it was in the water. The reason she
did this was because she wanted to raise money for Special Olympics. It was so thoughtful that
she used her own money to donate. I would think that Jessica would chicken out, but no.
Jessica would not do that. She is so brave and never passes up an opportunity like this. I love
Jessica so much. I am so lucky to have her in my life and I’m extremely proud to call Jessica my
step-sister.
Untitled
By LeeAnn Wilson
We spread our wings and fly
Our standards are more than sky high
We have a dream within our heart
And at any time we are ready to start
There is no bullying expected here
Why should anyone have to live in fear?
At OTMS we are one
When we are all together we have so much fun
It is sad to say that our time here has expired
But all the staff here has left us inspired
There’s nothing we can do about BVN receiving
But what’s that Mrs. Lewis always says? Oh yes, “Don’t stop believing!”
