Tiger PAWS Spring 2019 by Tiger PAWS

Tiger PAWS (Personal Academic Writing Space) St. Philip’s College Volume 8, Issue 1 Spring 2019

Cover Art: Nightingale Print with Gold Ink and Colored Pencil

By Lauren Estrada Cover Design: Jennifer Franklin

Tiger PAWS is a student publication consisting of literary analysis essays, prose nonfiction/fiction, poetry, art, and photography created by currently enrolled St. Philip’s College students. The student editorial staff reviews dozens of submissions, selects works to be published, and creates the journal layout each fall and spring semester. The selected works may not reflect the attitudes or opinions of St. Philip’s College or the Department of Communications and Learning. 3

Acknowledgments The Tiger PAWS staff wishes to thank the following: Dr. Erick Akins—Title III Director, Title III Grant Management Dr. Angela McPherson Williams—Director of Student Success Dr. Diane Gavin—Chair, Communications & Learning Dr. Audrey Mosley—Faculty, Communications & Learning Dr. Jeanette Passty—Faculty, Communications & Learning Lauri Humberson—Faculty, Communications & Learning Dr. David Torres—Faculty, Fine Arts Velia De La Rosa—Administrative Services Specialist, Communications & Learning Shannon Gonzales—ICT/Client Support Specialist Kim Thompson—Facilities Coordinator Hope Center Church The UPS Store Department of Communications & Learning St. Philip’s College Public Relations Department St. Philip’s College Media Services

Editorial Staff Student Staff:

Faculty Staff:

Ezequiel Acosta

Dr. Karen Cunningham

Michael Chembars

Stephanie Gibson

Daniel Davalos

Spencer Galvan

Jennifer Franklin

Jamie Miranda

Rodnekka Hall

Marissa Ramirez

Katlynn Jimenez

San Juan San Miguel

Julieta Nations Phuc Gia Bao Nguyen Esmeralda Olivares Saren Perales

Submissions for the next edition of Tiger PAWS in fall 2019 will be accepted through October 11, 2019. Enrolled SPC students are encouraged to submit essays, short stories, and poetry in English or Spanish, as well as artwork, and/or photography.

Table of Contents “Dear Classmates” by Angelia Jacobs.………………….……….………. Baby Jellyfish by Carolyn Ambs…………………………...…………………... “The First Day” by Doreen Garza Hansen………..………....……… “The Rainbow” by Kayah Secrest.……………..…………………….……. Web of Tears by Saren Perales…………………....…………………………….. “Sometimes We Just Aren’t Ready” by Agnes Marquez..... “My Dearest Friend” by Agnes Marquez..………....................... My Dearest Friend by Agnes Marquez………………………...……..…... CMBYN 14 by Daniel Davalos……………………...……………….…………. “The Boy, the Rose, I” by Margaret Nork..….……….………………. “¿PAPÁ?” by Julieta Nations……….…………………………………………… With All My Heart by John Silva..……………………………….……………… “A Journey” by Josue Galvan……..…..…….…………………………………. “The Understanding Heart” by Jalitha Twyman.…………..…… Blossom in the Rain by Megan Romero...………..………………….…….. “Femininity Divine” by Keivan Antjuan Perry……………………. “Unqualified” by Essie Teresa Richardson…………………………… “ Brown Skin” by Dora Lara…....……..………………….……….……..…… Infinity by Angelia Jacobs....…………………..…..………………………….... “Walking into My Future” by Ryley Brooks.……….………..…... Baby’s 3rd Birthday by Carolyn Ambs…………………..………………….. “Broken Glass” by Tikisha Franklin.……..…………………….……….. Copper and Stone by Angelia Jacobs……………………...…..…………….. Longlegged Jellyfish by Carolyn Ambs..………..……………..……………. “Shadowing” by Georgianna Saucedo. ..………………….……….…… “Through One’s Eyes” by Sabrina Sanchez.……...……….………… Different Views by Katlynn Jimenez...………..…………..………………. “Swinging Joy” by Laura Sanchez………………………………………….. Girl with a Flower by Lauren Estrada.…………………………....………… “True Love” by Samantha Wilson…………………....…………..………. Buck the German Shepherd by Carolyn Ambs.…………………………… “Tired” by Jennifer Franklin…………..…………………….…………………. Red Velvet by Brandy Bernice Guitron.………..……………………...…. “Academically Transitioned” by Claire Elliott……………………. The Angel and the Sun by Vanessa Palacios..……....……………………. “Mirror of ‘Girl’” by Marissa Arredondo….………………..…..…….. Floral and Fading by Vanessa Perez……………………………...…...….... 6

8 10 11 12 13 14 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 37 38 39 40 41 43 44 45 46 48 49 50

Table of Contents “First Roses” by Joslyn Oliva…………………….………………………..….. Sparks by Saren Perales…………..…………...…………………………………… “Wink” by Hallie Harris………………………………………………………….. “Sunny with a Chance of Explosives, Math, and Failure” by Wesley Williams………………………………………………..……….… Li’l Flyboy by Analicia Hernandez……………...………………………….…. “Grandpa’s Journey” by Elizabeth Ullrich Garcia.………….…… CMBYN 7 by Daniel Davalos…………....………………………………….…..… “Letters to Myself” by LeArthur Antonio Lee..……………….…….. “Untitled” by Manual Garcia…………..………………………………....……. Isolation by Daniel Davalos…………………………………………………......... “Out of Service” by Ethan Stokes……………..…….……………….………. Music: A Language We All Understand by Julieta Nations.………... “The Words of Wisdom” by Erwin Sotelo…………………………….. Hogwarts by Lauren Estrada……..………………………………………......…. “Redhead” by Erika Neighbors.………………………………………..………. “The World Is at Your Command” by Tabitha Schuchardt.. A Girl and Her Pony by Carolyn Ambs.……………….………………………. “Home” by R. W. Swan…………………………………………………………….… Stargazing by Sara Young…………………………………………………...……….. “The Tale of Isaiah the Strong” by Jade Galaviz……...……………. Davis Mountains State Park Javelina by Raquel Lopez………………. “Season Happenings” by Erika Neighbors.……………………..……… Precious Soul by Lauren Estrada……………………………………………….… “Promised Myself Better” by Samantha Lopez………………………. “Beautiful Liquid Gold” by Dwayne Lee…..……………………………… Dreamfire by Sara Young…………………………………….……………………….. “Sun-Filled Night” by Robert Brady…………………………………………. Show Me More by Vanessa Perez………………………………………………….. “Bruised Ego” by Ethan Stokes………………………………………………….. CMBYN 3 by Daniel Davalos………………………………………………………… “My Favorite Guide” by Erwin Sotelo……………………………………… “2:48 a.m., against black sheets” by Claire Elliott…………………. Freedom by Marisol Hernandez………………………………………………….. “Nunca Te Rindas” by Julieta Nations…………………………………….. St. Philip's Guitar Ensemble…………………………………………………...… Our Judges ………………………..……………………...………………………………... 7

51 52 53 54 57 58 60 61 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 84 85 87 88 90 92 93 94 95

“Dear Classmates” by Angelia Jacobs

Dear Classmates, As we head toward the end of the semester at St. Philip’s College, I must say that I have enjoyed serving as your Student Government Association President, representing the voice of the students. I encourage you to get involved and partner with your student leaders who are impacting the lives of students, doing great things on the campus and in the community. St. Philip’s has a wide range of clubs and organizations to choose from, and the list is growing. The editors of the Tiger PAWS and the entries showcased in this publication come from students who are just like you. They have given of their time to make this a great success. As a member of the Student Leadership Institute, I read how in 2014, Gallup and Purdue University measured the impact that college experiences had on students later in their lives. After studying over 30,000 college graduates, they came up with six key collegiate experiences (known as the Big 6) that were critical to being engaged at work and in life. They noted how those students had: 1. At least one professor who made them excited about learning. 2. Professors, faculty, and advisors who cared about them as a person. 3. A mentor who encouraged them to pursue their goals and dreams. 4. Worked on a project that took a semester or more to complete. 5. An internship, job, or other opportunities that allowed them to apply what they were learning in the classroom. 6. A chance to be active in extracurricular activities. As you go to class, take advantage of the support programs, and talk with your advisor and prepare to graduate. Being actively 8

engaged on campus presents opportunities to master leadership skills. Employers rarely ask about your G.P.A. Employers want to know that you can lead and follow when appropriate and understand that the world does not revolve around you. They also want to see that you can take the initiative, use the critical thinking skills youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve learned, demonstrate teamwork and ethical decisionmaking skills, question and challenge the status quo, and improve the organization all while doing the work they hired you to do. Strengthen your leadership skills by using your voice, vote, application for an internship, participation in Peer Mentoring, Study Abroad, volunteerism, work study job, and Student Engagement Grants. Join a club or an organization that will build your co-curricular transcript as well as your leadership and essential skills. Become a well-rounded student by supporting and joining our athletic events and our Fine Arts Department, running for homecoming court, or make an entry in our Tiger PAWS. Choose to be present in this moment. Have Big 6 experiences and see college as an investment in your future. Studies prove that student success continues long after we leave the classroom to cross the stage. And I hope that each of you has a fantastic experience. Tigers Forever, Angelia MJD Jacobs Your Student Government President St. Philipâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s College

Baby Jellyfish by Carolyn Ambs

Photograph 10

“The First Day” by Doreen Garza Hansen

My stomach shakes with butterflies My palms sweat like Niagara Falls My mother hugs me goodbye My heart then jumps like a frog My breath lets out slower then it gets hard to breathe I step into the classroom; suddenly, all eyes are on me I walk in confidently like I know what I’m doing here I quickly look for an empty seat while I’m trembling with fear I find comfort when the professor says, “It’s icebreaker time!” The clock spins fast, and I realize My first day of college is turning out just fine!

â&#x20AC;&#x153;The Rainbowâ&#x20AC;? by Kayah Secrest

A promise given by Him, To the ones whom by grace saved all of them. A streak of color across the sky. No wonder it draws such an eye. Seen in many places. Observed by all the races. Above the sea or on land, A reminder of the one who holds our hand. Red, orange, yellow, The colors that warm a fellow. Green, blue, purple, The ones increasingly mellow. A gorgeous sight to be seen, But few will truly know what it means. Almighty God put his stamp, Establishing the rainbow as a radiant revamp.

Web of Tears By Saren Perales

Photograph 13

“ Sometimes We Just Aren’t Ready” by Agnes Marquez

As a teenager/young adult, we think that we know everything. My parents wanted me to go to college straight out of high school. Of course, I had other things in mind. I signed up for classes when I was 18 years old and fresh out of high school. I had a part time job at a fast food restaurant and a small apartment with my roommate. Of course, hanging out with my friends and partying was my priority at the time. I stopped going to classes after a couple of weeks. I didn’t realize that there was a “correct way” to drop my courses. I continued to work and have fun for the next couple of years. Again, my parents urged me to go back to school, so I did. After about three weeks, I fell back into the same pattern and eventually stopped attending classes. In 2008, I became a single mother and was living back at home with my parents. I was definitely ready to further my education and do something with my life. I figured that if I didn’t do it for myself that I needed to do it for my daughter. I decided to finish out my classes for Medical Assisting at a local vocational school. I finished my classes but couldn’t find a job because everyone wanted experience. By 2011, I was on housing and living in the courts. I definitely knew that I wanted more with my life at this point. There was a program at my housing complex that was offering assistance for its residents to go back to school and obtain a Child Development Associate Certificate. I decided that I’d give it a try and attended SAC in the spring of 2011. I successfully completed two semesters and obtained my certification. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to further my education because I encountered some road blocks with my funding since I had dropped out in 2003 and 2005. Continuing my education had become more of a distant dream. I felt this immense devastation in my heart every time I would see that my former high school classmates would obtain their degrees, and I started to feel stuck with life and how things were going. Many of my friends began to buy their first homes and purchase brand new vehicles. Then there was me, a single mother living in a small apartment and paying on a pre-owned vehicle. I began to despise my job. Sure, it paid my bills, but I was miserable and never had extra money to take my daughter on any trips or even to any of our local theme parks. I would quit one job to 14

go to the next because it would pay me a dollar more here or there. I was spending less time with my daughter and becoming more bitter and frustrated with my life. Then, one day I spoke to my parents about wanting to go back to school and become a nurse. My parents told me to move back home so that I could start saving up. So I decided to do just that. I would have to force myself up in the morning so that I could go to work. My coworkers definitely made my job more bearable. On July 5, 2018, I walked into the Brightwood College Ingram Campus building. Classes for Vocational Nursing had just begun, and a couple of people didn’t show up to class, which meant that there was a slot available for me to start the very next day if I wanted to. So I called up my parents and told them the good news. I successfully completed my 1st and 2nd quarters of class. I knew that this was the career that I was born to do. I had invested many hours into schooling and homework. I had no free time because we were in class for about 40 hours a week and were doing homework for another 20 hours or more. I just knew at the sacrifice would be worth it in the end. I began to count down the months and make plans as to where I would work once I was done with school. On December 5, 2008, I showed up to school for the first day of my 3rd quarter. I missed my instructors and my classmates and couldn’t wait to finally finish another quarter. After about three hours in to class, the instructor was told to give us another break because there was a mandatory all-staff meeting. We all looked at each other in confusion but thought nothing of it. After about fifteen minutes, a faculty member comes in and hands us a paper. She said, “I regret to inform you, but Brightwood College will be closing effective immediately.” Most of us stared around blankly in confusion. We had no idea what was going on. It felt like everything was at a standstill. We were escorted out of the building and weren’t allowed to come back in. Two SAPD officers waited in the lobby in anticipation of a riot. The 20-mile drive home was a huge blur filled with tears. The hardest thing was telling my father and daughter that my school had closed and that I wasn’t going to be able to transfer my credits. Six months of our lives were wasted, and the next week was filled with depression and many hours of sleep. I spent many hours praying to God and asking him to allow me to go back to college. I am definitely pleased to say that I am now a proud student of St. Philip’s and Palo Alto College. I am striving to achieve the best grades possible, and I refuse to give up. Sometimes life will push us down to the ground, but it is our decision as to what we decide to do from there. I can honestly say that I am finally ready for this!

“My Dearest Friend” by Agnes Marquez

March 22, 2019 My Dearest Friend, Not a day went by that I didn’t think of you. We used to talk all of the time, and then one day you stopped responding. For weeks on end, I sent messages, only to receive no reply. Desperation and worry had begun to sink in. It was the quietest forty-five days of my life. Today I finally received a response. I know now that you are no longer with us. I wish I were back at day forty-four, back to not knowing. They say that denial is the first stage of grief. I’d say that I hit all five in one night. I missed you yesterday, but today I miss you more. I’ll never get to hear your sweet laughter or listen to your sound advice. One of the last things that I told you was to have fun and be safe, and just like that, you’re gone. One day we’ll meet again, my dearest friend, but until then, I will always carry a piece of you in my heart. With Love, Your Friend Always

My Dearest Friend by Agnes Marquez

Photograph 17

CMBYN 14 by Daniel Davalos

Digital Art 18

“The Boy, the Rose, I” by Margaret Nork

They all have a voice That I always hear, Only if spoken by choice. I have a voice too, Barely used, that they rarely hear. The rose—the rose cannot be heard. Crying itself to sleep, Thinking of what could be And what had been, But not what is. What is, is painful, What could be is beautiful. The one boy—the boy picked the rose up From where is was wilting And said it was pretty. Although he never voiced it, No, it never heard the noise, Sometimes the rose felt it. The boy put the rose in a vase, And wanted to watch it grow. He watered it and sat near it; he did not want to leave. But somehow it got moved, it got lost. Now the rose and the boy are far away, And it never heard him say it was pretty. I—I wish I could explain to the boy, How he cannot let the rose get away. He will not listen, Because I will not say. I do not share emotions and feelings, I do not speak my mind. Now it cries itself to sleep, Like the sky cries when it rains, Tasting of salt and pain, From wanting and confusion. But now it found a new window sill to sit on. Now people talk around it, But the noise is too loud. 19

¿PAPÁ? by Julieta Nations

¿Me oyes? Todo cambió. Ya no sonrío como antes. Papá, a veces escucho tu risa. No puedo creer que ya nunca te voy a poder abrazar. ¿Papá? Me oyes? Todo cambió. La familia ha cambiado. Ya no bailamos. Ya no nos hablamos. ¿Papá? Me oyes? No estaba lista para dejarte ir. No estoy lista Nunca estaré lista Papá, te extraño Mi corazón nunca estará completo ¿Papá? ¿Me oyes?

With All My Heart by John Silva

Charcoal 21

“A Journey” by Josue Galvan

Ever wonder how to handle a rough life situation? A teacher can teach a student to a certain degree. Being a college student is awesome, but everyone has a life outside of school. As a father at a young age, I had to become independent in such a short amount of time. Yes, it is challenging, but it can be rewarding. Most of my life I've had to figure, manage, and, guide myself mainly on my own. School or work people know that needing money is essential to be able to provide for our families with stability. Life is just a cycle: work, live, and repeat. Indeed, school has taught me a lot; however, much can’t be applicable to the outside world. Being independent doesn't tend to be easy at first, but I slowly came to realize my strengths and weaknesses. Life keeps moving forward, and every day it teaches everyone around me consequential lessons. Once I came to understand that my failure and success were accepted, I came to accept that not everything comes on a silver platter. I work towards my own goals. I learned to manage my own checkbook since school doesn't offer that kind of education to their students. My destination is no one else's but mine, free to do what I feel on my very own, for example, filing my taxes, taking out a car loan, learning how to evaluate people, and mainly being financially responsible. I came to comprehend this mentally, physically, and spiritually. The learned knowledge and skills equipped me to handle myself, my surroundings, and how to cope with any changed situation. Through my perception, I concluded that some bosses take advantage of certain situations. I once worked with a labor company where a coworker of mine, Yolanda, had recently moved to the United States in search of work. At the time, my boss was a white male with light blue eyes, very conceited; he thought he was above us Latinos. Everyone just dealt with his behavior towards us, but Yolanda, one could tell that she just had it from all the rude comments to all the cut hours. Suddenly, she just broke down right in front of me. This is where I decided that I would record him. In a course of three days, I caught every single insult and bad treatment. I went to human resources to report how we were left with no break or lunch, and it was nearly reaching 100 degrees outside and still they did nothing. A generous lady from human resources expressed to me that she had never agreed to the way the boss was 22

mistreating us. She then gave me a note with a number to call. I reached out to them, met with them, and sure enough, I had more than enough evidence to get my boss fired. This situation taught me a lot; it showed me that one person can make a difference. Yolanda was very emotional; the way she was staring at me, one could see the happiness in her heart. She proceeded to hug and thank me; I was somebodyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s hero that day. Many can agree that work can be overwhelming at times, but it's something most of us need. I've learned so many things in the work field, such as handling rude, hostile, and sometimes illiterate persons. People skills are something a classroom canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t provide a student; they are learned by working in a professional workplace. Over the course of my six years of experience, I met a variety of people with diverse cultural backgrounds, views, and beliefs and unfortunately encountered racism. I had the pleasure to meet people who were different than I was, with a story to tell. Each person taught me something that till this day is applied to my daily lifestyle. Someone sometimes had it far better, but some come from nothing where there is nothing. I will continue to work for the sake of my family whatever the circumstances. One of my biggest life lessons, world turning challenges, came when I was blessed with a beautiful baby boy. Who would have known that such a small individual could make me change everything I view? Not school nor any other person can equip me for parenting and what was to come. My little boy arrived in 2014. I had to manage money and work with feeding and playtime all into my life. Where do I begin? It was a pricy stage when he was a newborn, not in a sense of money but investment of time, love, and care. Having to check on my baby every so often when he would cry, I'd pick him up, rock him, and at times had to play detective mode to find what was bothering him. I had to find the right doctor and daycare by using my people skills to interview and evaluate the individuals. Having to trust other people with the life of my son, I had to learn to protect my family by all means necessary. A certain number of experiences made me learn everything throughout my life. Now I can say that itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s very important to survive outside of academics. One day I can have it all and the next day my house can burn down and leave me with nothing. Life can hit us, and we won't even know it. My academic knowledge is important to a certain extent; everyone goes to school to learn something for a future career. It won't compare to my lifestyle and how I can prepare mentally for something that can be life changing. Overall, I would agree that they are equally important to a certain objective; they both show us and guide us as we mold into the person that we are becoming. 23

“The Understanding Heart” by Jalitha Twyman

I won’t break your heart -Can’t break what’s already broken. Nothing will tear us apart -Remember those words you’ve spoken. You talk like you’ll be here forever Just standing by my side, I am told love gets better But my past leads me to decide; There is no such thing as happy endings As I sit and listen to your heart’s cry, Then comes my turn, and you seem to stop listening So I let out a deep sigh. It gets harder to use your heart for good, Because even hearts grow tired of being understanding but never Understood…

Blossom in the Rain by Megan Romero

Photograph 25

“ Femininity Divine” by Keivan Antjuan Perry

The tables have turned! Men must obey our orders Pray that we have mercy… Enough is enough; let us go back in time. No place in society we are constantly told. Women are supreme; we are the divine. Together we stand; together we are bold. Aspasia showed us the real power. Once we obtain all, the real fun begins. Educating us by the day and hour. In due time will bring an era of peasant men. We placed Metics above the men in Athens. Thus, men will no longer will be of waste The dowry now used for beneficial actions. We will strip you of your status, and make you slaves. We are the women of Athens; our wrath soon to be felt. To punish men for all eternity, our rule will forever dwell.

“ Unqualified” by Essie Teresa Richardson

All my life I have been considered unqualified Even though the 15th amendment had been ratified I am still told these lies And I will not be satisfied with just getting by All my life I have been considered unqualified If I were to go to a job interview They would view my melanated skin Instead of my point of view All my life I have been considered unqualified Because my hair isn’t texturized Jesus himself had hair like wool So, how can what God gave me be Unqualified? All my life my people have been considered unqualified Although the first scientist resides in our motherland Although Africa carried the richest man Just like all my life I had to fight, all the life I have been considered unqualified. Certified in being unqualified But if Rosa sat so Martin could walk, and Martin walked so Obama could run, and Obama ran so I can fly, tell me who really is unqualified.

â&#x20AC;&#x153; Brown Skinâ&#x20AC;? by Dora Lara

I am confident in my color One like no other I love my reflection It is pure sun kissed My brown skin Rich with gold My skin war sold To the highest bidder Who makes me bitter The unworthy master Who crowns me winner When I see my reflection My brown skin shines Like brown buttered toast It stands out the most Strong like coffee Sweet like tea I am beautiful because my brown skin is me

Infinity by Angelia Jacobs

Labradorite and Copper 29

“Walking into My Future” by Ryley Brooks

As a thirteen-year-old boy, I followed closely behind my dad into the auction barn at the San Antonio Livestock Show and Rodeo where I witnessed something that terrified me but, nevertheless, something that would someday have a lasting impact on my life. I wandered into the barn that day and sat down on the bleachers, in avoidance of the conversations that my dad often attempted to engage me in. What I saw produced many mixed emotions in my mind; there were kids close to my age who were delivering speeches to an audience of two hundred or more people, including college professors, national government officials, and successful business men and women who judge and attend the show. The thought of putting myself in that situation was absolutely horrifying, partially because I knew exactly the reason my dad wanted me to watch that particular event, and soon it became a reality that I would, in fact, be participating in the contest known as the Junior Commercial Steer Show. The very next year I was on my way back to the show; this time, however, I had with me a pen of steers and a prepared speech, just like the ones I had witnessed the year before. Through this experience, I would learn more about myself than I had ever known; I would demonstrate to myself that I had within me the tenacity to do hard things for the good of my future. That year I was fortunate enough to win several awards; however, the true reward was my conquered fear of public speaking, thereby paving the way to a whole new world of success and accomplishments in my life, This year I walked into the show a final time—as a man, greatly influenced by new life experiences that challenged me to become something I never could’ve imagined. More importantly, for the last time, I walked out of the show prepared for the new life experiences yet to come, developed with strong character and a willing heart to do what’s right, giving me a brand-new opportunity to find the passionate purpose for the life in which I’ve been so blessed.

Babyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s 3rd Birthday by Carolyn Ambs

Photograph 31

“Broken Glass” by Tikisha Franklin

Molded by its creator Crystalline pieces form To take its shape

Don’t be fooled by its beauty For its inner self holds many secrets Torn between what is real or fiction It stays stiff as a board

As the world watches, its wonderous beauty It shines bright like a diamond But the cracks in its heart are as shallow As darkness

Knocked over from its own demise Shattered pieces cover the floor Symbolic of the creation of new art The starting of a new beginning Hail to premiere of Broken Glass Era

Copper and Stone by Angelia Jacobs

Copper Wire and Stone 33

Longlegged Jellyfish by Carolyn Ambs

Photograph 34

“Shadowing” by Georgianna Saucedo

Perhaps it was the blood, doctors, or the organs I saw up close that made this experience unforgettable. My mentor, Johnathan, is a nurse who works in the operating room (O.R) at University Hospital. I was offered an opportunity to shadow John at his job and immediately felt ecstatic and could not wait to see what he did for a living. On that day, I learned three major procedures: one to detect where the patient’s bleeding was coming from, a second involving how to pump a balloon inside an older woman due to a blocked artery, and finally, a third one that was an emergency open heart surgery. After I arrived at the hospital, I greeted John, and without wasting another second, he handed me a pair of green scrubs so that I blended in with everyone else. We walked into the procedure room, and I immediately felt out of place because each doctor in there was occupied doing something different in order to prepare for the procedure. John coached me on the name of each medicine, its use, and side effects. I observed him flip the tiny medicine bottles upside down to get every drop in the syringe. After the preparations were completed, the medical team initiated the procedure, inserting a stick with a camera on it to explore the patient’s abdominal area. I observed along with the doctors and detected blood clots from afar. John was busy; however, every chance he got he stood by me to demonstrate every step of the procedure. I was overwhelmed by everything that was occurring around me. I felt like it was not possible to consume any more information. However, it was only the beginning of an educational experience. The second procedure was performed on a female patient in her mid 60s, but that time they pumped a balloon inside of her lower abdominal area to unblock an artery that stopped the blood flow. The doctors prepared everything exactly as the first procedure; also, John gave me the opportunity to fill the syringes with the medicines. I felt thrilled to do something that allowed me to feel like a real doctor. During the procedure, the patient started having basic signs of a heart attack, which, consequently, frightened me a little because I did not know what to expect. John saw how concerned I was for the patient, 35

so he comforted me by teaching me how to read an EKG. He proved that she was only having symptoms of a heart attack, but not having one. He taught me when one is having a heart attack, the bottom of an EKG would have had little cracks or some sort of space at the point of the lines. After two long procedures, John and I decided to grab some lunch and walk toward the peds floor. In the middle of our lunch, a nurse came bursting through the doors informing John about an emergency and needed his help. We both immediately followed her, followed by doctors and nurses, and found ourselves in a room with a huge glass separating the gallery and the procedure room. John asked doctors to update him on the situation, and they informed him the doctor was exploring the patient’s chest when he accidentally poked the medical tool through the patient’s heart, creating a hole and subsequently allowing the patient to bleed out. Therefore, John went into action and started compressions. I was observing everyone on the other side of the glass and thought to myself, “They need to crack her chest.” Sure enough, I was correct. The doctors were working hard to save the patient’s life; from calling blood banks to calling code, they all worked together to save her life. There was not time to take the patient to the operating room, so they turned the procedure room into an O.R. Before the cardiac doctor opened the patient up, John went out to get me so that I could watch the surgery up close. I remember smelling the burnt tissue while watching the blood gush out after the surgeon opened the patient’s heart, exposing the heart. I was amazed and had the urge to push everyone out the way to take a closer look. I was the happiest girl in the world at that moment; I did not want to leave the O.R. In conclusion, this experience allowed me to realize that school is not the only place where I can learn something. Anyone can learn anything outside of academics, if one allows himself or herself to have fun while doing it. I felt blessed to have been able to experience something so educational and amazing as an open heart surgery. I will never forget that day because that is when I realized what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. Watching the doctors saving the patient’s life made me view them as the next thing to God. I want to feel the rush and adrenalize for the rest of my life; I want to be able to go home and say, “I touched somebody’s heart today,” or “I saved somebody’s life today.” I want to be able to take charge of something as important as someone’s life in my hands. Surgery is where my heart is; it is what my heart desires the most. 36

“Through One’s Eyes” by Sabrina Sanchez

In a world where we are born alone, She sure thought she would be destined to meet perfectly good strangers. Time passes by fast as she slowly realizes Life isn’t pretty. Her family feels miles apart from where she stands. The black sheep The pretty one with no wise decisions in their eyes. She brings life into this world. A love begins while her forever ends. Poor lonely girl . . . who has never felt like a girl. Falls in love again but, with “himself.” Reflection in the mirror finally matches the soul. Lonely boy with a child What will society think of you? There must be hope in this lonely world. Realization of how we are Born alone and die alone. Society might not love him, but A small version of him with a heartbeat sure does. 37

Different Views by Katlynn Jimenez

Digital Art 38

“ Swinging Joy” by Laura Sanchez

Tall green grass huddles around its base Chains are wrapped around the orange rustic poles, holding them in place The rubber, made for seating, clings on to the chains This masterpiece was made with love, and that love it still retains Its uniqueness never goes unrecognized Its uniqueness alone is prized The seats are made with hand cut rubber Each one is its separate color The poles arise from the ground triumphantly Through all seasons it has survived, luckily The chains creak with every movement Crying, knowing they could use some improvement With every push, you’re closer to the sky Almost feels as if you can fly When you’re near, happiness is in the air And when you leave, you can’t wait to get back there

Girl with a Flower by Lauren Estrada

Watercolor and Washi Tape 40

“True Love” by Samantha Wilson

What is true love? No one may ever know You feel like you’re floating in air And never want the feeling to go You may have an instant connection, And sparks start to fly. You get flutters in your stomach You may even tell them for you, I will die. Then you have instances like mine… I met a man, and we had some fun. But he got to close too fast, So I chose to take off and run. 5 months later I was bored at home, He texted me and said, “Let’s go for a drink.” I replied, “OK, why not?” We met up, and I started to think… He told me, “I’ll take care of you and your girls,” Since I’m a single mom of two. He cried for me that night, And to be honest I almost did too. 41

Since this man has been in my life, I’m getting over all my exes… Who did me dirty and wrong, I would’ve moved by now, but my family and kids are in Texas. I know I truly love this man, He’s the man of my dreams. We get along in every way, And he has morals it seems. But who knows what the future brings, Only time will tell. Is he my real true love? Or will he make me land back in hell?

Buck the German Shepherd by Carolyn Ambs

Photograph 43

â&#x20AC;&#x153;Tiredâ&#x20AC;? by Jennifer Franklin

Standing here holding the sky My arms get weak My knees shake The weight becomes too much What if I just let it fall? Would that just end it all? The weight is great My shoulders are tired I am too old To be holding the sky I can end it all And let the sky fall They would scream And run in fear Those little people Their end is near I am Atlas; I hold the sky Today I will let the sky fall

Red Velvet by Brandy Bernice Guitron

Digital Art 45

“Academically Transitioned” by Claire Elliott

I watched her, at twenty-seven years old, sitting in a hospital bed with IVs and machines attached to most of her pale body, tap the keys of her keyboard as if she were playing piano again. Her face so swollen that her left eye was shut, still she kept focus on completing the essay that was due. My wife could have asked for an extension—her professors knew how sick she was and how hard she worked in every one of her classes, but she refused to do so. Years earlier, at a fertility specialist appointment after our seventh miscarriage, she learned that she had a clotting disorder associated with a genetic disorder called Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome. She had already not been feeling well for the months prior and quickly declined. Unable to move some days because the pain was so intense, our life became a collection of specialist appointments, pill bottles, and fear. Despite the tailspin dive of her health, she enrolled in school, full time, and maintained a perfect grade point average. The power that she has within radiated and evoked me to be better— even if it were just for her. I began researching different programs through the United States Air Force, knowing that the medical field was what I wanted because I needed to be able to advocate for my wife. I found several programs that would have been perfect for me, but there was only one issue with all these programs: if I joined, at some point I would temporarily have to leave the Air Force only to rejoin shortly after. While this would not be an issue for most people, it was for me, because of the constant back and forth argument of whether transgender people can serve in the military. I could not chance leaving the Air Force and forfeiting my claim to the “grandfathered in” clause that would prevent me from being discharged. Defeated, I felt I could not help my wife nor better myself; through the mess of anxiety and anger, I stopped researching. My wife, however, did not stop researching—she understood my anger; it flowed out of me in the form of tears that would puddle at her feet. She told me that we would make it work with the help of the Air Force or not; she would make sure that I could go back to 46

school. She would hold me and tell me constantly that I was worthy of every dream I wanted for myself, and I believed her. We both went back to researching programs through the different military branches when I came upon the Physician’s Assistant program. This program would allow me to stay in the Air Force, give me both my bachelor’s and master’s degrees within three years, and give me the ability to commission to become an officer. It even gave the option of continuing my education even further if I wanted to complete my PhD. The anger and anxiety could finally subside, and I would no longer have to puddle at her feet. With a clear path in sight, my wife, busy with her own education and health issues, began contacting the appropriate people, filing the applications, and researching what I needed to attend Alamo Colleges to get my prerequisites for the program. When she was finished with the tedious task of getting me enrolled, she took the time to meticulously plan my school schedule around my busy work hours. I was late to enroll for most of my classes because of the paperwork on the end of both the Air Force and various previous colleges, so most classes that would fit were already filled. Somehow, in the endless magic that is my wife, she made it work. Last week, I sat in my first class that would be the stepping stone to my medical career. I was overwhelmed, moving from the anatomy of a computer to the anatomy of a human being. I came home, exhausted after a five-hour course, to dinner made and my wife ready to go over my course notes to see how she could best help me study. Both of us drained from the day of work and education, we stayed up while she gave me a full arsenal of study methods, quips, and confidence to take on the study of the human body. She followed her family’s mantra of “prior proper planning prevents piss poor performance,” trying to make the chaos manageable through a calendar listing the due dates of both our assignments, appointments, and work schedules. It will take years to finally finish my goal of becoming a doctor, I can say with the utmost confidence that I will one day become Dr. Claire Elliott, MD, and she will be Dr. Jordyn Elliott, PsyD. She is a conduit of determination and resilience, and through that, I can grow into the person she deserves, the person I am meant to be. One day, she tells me on the nights we are both stressed out, hunched over textbooks, that this struggle will be all worth it. She will smile, and I will believe it. 47

The Angel and the Sun by Vanessa Palacios

Black Ink Pen 48

“Mirror of ‘Girl’” by Marissa Arredondo

“Don’t get your knees dirty; you are not a boy; this is how you keep your knees clean like a girl; come here, sit next to me and don’t speak; this is how you learn in school; don’t wear that, it shows your legs; this is how you shave; don’t wear that; it shows your shoulders; this is how you cover your shoulders; don’t wear that; it shows your breasts; this is how you wear a dress; don’t wear that; it makes you look more fat; this is how you make a milkshake with no fat; make sure to not eat so much in front of men; this is how you eat around people you just met; sit up straight and tuck your stomach in; this is how you make a meal at home to stay thin; make sure to cover yourself up even when it’s hot; it’s not right to show skin; this is what lotion you use to have tight skin; don’t cry—it gives you wrinkles; this is how to iron your shirt without an iron; depression isn’t real; it’s all in your head; this is how to ride a bike; don’t listen to your dad; he doesn’t know what he is saying; only speak to your dad on Sundays; this is how to talk to your dad when he is drunk; when your dad begins to slur, you come to me; this is how to fight for yourself; go ask your dad if he wants dinner; this is how to not cry when someone upsets you; go see what your dad is doing; this is how you listen to loud music; come here, listen to what your dad is telling me; this is how to cook for one with not much; come here, your dad is hitting me; this is how you call the police; wake up—your dad is beating me; this is how you keep a secret; don’t say anything to anyone, not even family.” But I hate it when dad hits you; shouldn’t we tell somebody? “This is how to get rid of a migraine without medicine; wear black—it makes you look thin; this is how to tuck in your stomach better; don’t go to the beach; it’s not good for your size; this is how you plan ahead; this is how you become independent. I don’t want you to become like me.” But I’ve made it a goal to become someone like you; you’re my mother. “This is how you marry someone who doesn’t drink; marry someone who can support you, but don’t marry someone so they can support you; this is how you support someone with an addiction; you need to have a good job in this world to make it; this is how you smile without faking; keep fighting till the end; this is how you dance in our culture; don’t speak English and Spanish at the same time—it’s tacky; this is how you defend yourself; this is how you defend yourself from a man; this is how you defend yourself from your dad if he’s been drinking.” Mom, we need help; we need to ask for help. “Mija, lo siento pero no puedo.” 49

Floral and Fading by Vanessa Perez

Watercolor and Sharpie Ink 50

“ First Roses” by Joslyn Oliva

The first roses I have ever received were as vibrant as the sun The first roses that had left a trail of warmth The first roses which smelled like a summer’s breeze The first roses that felt like cool silk on my fingertips Oh, how I smiled with these roses grinning back at me Oh, how a tear almost fell down my face, but the roses were there to catch it Oh, how I sat them down on my dresser watching them sway back and forth Oh, how beautiful they look with their bold red coats I can see how lucky I am to have you I can see how anyone can have you, but you chose me I can see how delicate you can be without the proper attention I can see how with proper care that you will last forever Now I ask you to stay here with me when days turn into nights Now I ask you when morning comes that you are by my side Now I ask you to keep your glow just how you brought out mine Now I ask you in return if you can stay my first roses

Sparks by Saren Perales

Photograph 52

â&#x20AC;&#x153;Winkâ&#x20AC;? by Hallie Harris

Sitting outside in the dead of night. Watching the stars dance across the sky. Creating constellations. Clouds form, covering what was once a starry night. I sat lonely in the darkness on the stairs of my back porch. Still looking into the night. Wondering if the stars were still dancing. I began to look into the grass and spotted small flickers of lights. Blinking. They were small and appeared only for a moment. In the midst of this, I felt the joy I once had. My loneliness went away as if joy had grabbed hold of me in a gentle embrace. For the night was filled with the bright lights of fireflies. They reminded me of the stars that would dance under the clouds. They formed their own constellations within the grass. A smile appeared on my face as they lit up the night. Darkness clouded my vision once again. The light I had grown to love disappeared. I am sucked back into the lonely darkness of the night.

“Sunny with a Chance of Explosives, Math, and Failure” by Wesley Williams

Do you enjoy heist movies that involve detonating open safes/ bank vaults with explosives, or maybe they don’t have access to explosives and instead use an industrial plasma torch? Well, rest assured that if one tries to use explosives to open a safe/vault, it will destroy the entire building before making a dent in the vault. If one uses a plasma torch, it would fill up that entire building with so much smoke that their buddies and they will asphyxiate to death. I hope they are also not worried about police showing up either because they’re going to be cutting that door for half an hour at least! Even as a Marine SWAT member, I never thought I’d have a functioning knowledge of these things. Sure, it’s something I had always wanted to know because I, myself, love those movies! Then the unexpected became reality when I was ordered to report to a school to become a breacher. This school would teach me step-bystep how to use tools to break into buildings, understand and utilize explosives to breach various entry points, and conclude with rigorous testing that many students have failed. Ultimately, this course would not just be three fun-filled weeks but a struggle to avoid expulsion from the course for academic shortcomings. My sojourn began when my commanding officer walked in and with a fat cocky smile that made his moustache look like a fuzzy caterpillar he trained to stay on his upper lip, he declared, “Williams, I signed you up to go to methods of entry school to become a breacher. It’s a job that identifies entry points on a building and then assesses which tools and/or explosives to utilize to get inside, all while doing the least amount of harm to those that may be residing within the confines of the building itself. Now, as you know, the last three members of your team that went failed out! So, if you fail, no one here will ever get to go again! Good luck!” He strode away smiling. I got the feeling from that smile he didn’t expect me to pass. A month later I was seated in the classroom. My classmates consisted of Special Forces, bomb disposal, and people on elite units like myself. The instructors revealed the reason why many people failed wasn’t because the course was physically hard, which it was, but it was due to the fact that if the military was going to trust anyone with explosives that we had better know absolutely 54

everything so as to avoid blowing up ourselves, the people in the building, and our team members. My mind staggered as it considered the gravity of how dangerous the tools were that I was about to be instructed how to use. The course began with, to my surprise, us going over tools used by firefighters. When the instructors flung these onto the table, I looked up at them in confusion. Without having to have me ask, an instructor belched, “Yes, firemen’s tools, out of all the people in this world who do you think needs to get into buildings fast and efficiently the most often?” They explained each tool and then ran us outside to practice on doors/windows they took from condemned buildings. I was filled with childish glee as I now had an excuse to shatter windows. When we had decimated every window in sight, they introduced another fireman’s tool, the plasma torch. With it, my class and I were tasked with opening a ship’s hatch. This proved to be much more difficult than we originally anticipated. An hour went by, and we were all saturated in sweat. Our arms were covered in small burns from the melted metal bubbling and popping off like bacon grease from a skillet, but we got through. Tearing doors from hinges and smashing windows were enjoyable, but I knew the excitement would truly begin the following week. Explosives week: this week involved an egregious amount of math, scientific theory, and the thrill of blowing open doors. Utilization of math is paramount when making an explosive charge designed specifically to open up locked or barricaded doors. One needs to figure out how strong that door is and what the minimum force is required to break through with as few casualties as possible. The first thing I blew open was a solid wood door. I used a charge that was made out of an expired saline IV bag. As we ran through this man-made saline mist, I remember the quaint smell of fresh pine that was soon replaced by the sulfurous smell of gunpowder as my team engaged the targets inside. By the end of the week, my body was a cacophony of conflicting emotions. These emotions were the free-floating thrill of learning about and utilizing explosives while, simultaneously, my stomach twisted in nervous knots in anticipation for the finals week, the week where a majority of students had failed. After six hours of continuous study that weekend, I felt as though I had learned all I needed to know in order to pass this test. The self-doubt that then fell upon me consumed my plane of existence due to the realization that there had to have been some reason my team members failed this course. It seemed too easy. This led to a stringently hyper-focused state in which I crammed for eight hours each day before the exam, fueled with enough caffeine to kill a pregnant elephant. I was not going to be the reason why no one else would get the opportunity to be sent to this course again. Next thing 55

I knew, the test was in front of me. Overwhelmed with the icy freefalling feeling one gets when having a nightmare one can’t wake up from, I looked at question number one. It was easy. Then came the second, the third, and fourth, none harder than the first. And then it was over. The graded tests came back, and I passed with flying colors. The panic lifted, and a warm cloud of euphoria enveloped me, followed by the annoying thought that I could have probably studied the original six hours and gotten the same score. A day later, we had a graduation ceremony, and I was now a breacher. I’ve come to learn that those once impressive Hollywood heist plots would realistically end in unintentional suicides or arrests. Though it was only three weeks, it felt like I had gone through months of learning and hands-on application of firemen’s tools, making and detonating breaching explosives, employing the math to safely utilize them, and rigorously studying to be the first in my unit to pass. Upon speaking to my classmates and instructors, and after interviewing my team members, I soon learned why they had failed. The way one treats academics in his or her early life really does affect how he or she will treat academics for the rest of that person’s life. It turns out a lot of the Special Forces and bomb disposal members were good students in high school just like I was, whereas a lot of my fellow team members were not. This course required a symbiotic relationship of academic work in a classroom and strenuous physical application that could not be attained without proficiency in both. I learned I was not like a majority of people I served with. I applied myself earlier in life, and because of this, I had an easier time learning and adapting to more complex topics. One instructor summarized it very well by stating, “In our line of work, intelligence without will is useless; will without intelligence is dangerous.”

Liâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;l Flyboy by Analicia Hernandez

Photograph 57

“Grandpa’s Journey” by Elizabeth Ullrich Garcia

August 5, 1925. Hilmer R. Ullrich was born to Mr. and Mrs. Oscar C. Ullrich. He was born with blond hair and baby blue eyes. As a child, he lived with his parents, three brothers, and two sisters on Nebraska Street located in east San Antonio. As a young boy, he woke up early before dawn each morning and said to himself, I can’t burn daylight. He attended school in the San Antonio School District where he once described to me a one-room schoolhouse. The Ullrichs owned a small grocery store, and after school, he would deliver groceries on his bicycle. Grandpa talked about the San Antonio River and how the family lived through the Great Depression, which began in 1929 and lasted through the late 1930s. “Those were hard times,” Grandpa said, “And you should save and take care of what you have because tomorrow is another day.” Grandpa continued his journey as a young boy with his family living the simple life, and when he had time to get away for some free moments, he enjoyed fishing on warm sunny days with his three brothers: Arthur Lee, Sonny, and Earnest. But his childhood years went by quickly. As a young man, Grandpa married a young lady named Tillie then after their marriage, he joined the United States Navy. Together, they had one daughter named Martha. However, this young romance did not last long; in 1941 after Pearl Harbor was attacked, he was sent to the Pacific Ocean to defend our country. Grandpa did not talk much about his experience in the war. But he did tell me a story that I still remember to this day. It was a warm night out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean on the Navy battleship to which he was assigned; he could smell the salt air of the ocean as he listened to the sound of the waves swish back and forth, making a soft, peaceful sound. But it was not long before the peaceful sound turned into a sound of trouble. It was the sound of engines in the distance, and he and the other Navy sailors knew it was the sound of Japanese planes quickly approaching the battleship for an attack. Quickly, they prepared for what was next. Grandpa went quickly to the caliber guns located on the battleship. As a plane approached closer, he took a shot, and it was not a miss. However, a piece of the wing from the plane came flying quickly through the air; as he ducked, a piece of metal hit the side of the caliber gun, damaging his eardrum and causing hearing problems for the rest of his life. Unfortunately, that's not all; the same metal piece hit the sergeant in front of him, and sadly, the result 58

was fatal. After the war ended in 1945, Grandpa was honorably discharged from the United States Navy. His return home was not the warm homecoming most soldiers receive. Unfortunately, he came home to an estranged wife that had moved on and no longer wanted to be married. His wife willing gave him their daughter Martha to raise on his own, which he gladly did, returning to his childhood home on Nebraska Street with his daughter. Great-Grandma Ullrich was willing to help raise Martha. Grandpa then looked for work the San Antonio Sheet and Metal Company offered him. It was after some time that he met Lorene Chaffin, his second wife. After they were married and began a new life together, they had one son named Russell. After San Antonio Sheet and Metal Company went out of business, Grandpa later found employment with Alamo Iron Works. He was a proud salesman up until his retirement, dedicating twenty-five years of service. As the years passed, Martha married a young man; together they had three sons. Russell married his first wife, and together they had one daughter. Then, after about five years of marriage, Russell divorced and married his second wife; together they had one son. I am Russell's daughter, his only granddaughter, as he told everyone. I stayed with Grandpa and Grandma on weekends, holidays, and anytime I wanted to be with them. After my parentsâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; divorce, it was home, and I felt so loved when I was with them. We took summer vacations and spent our time together enjoying what life had to offer. I can especially remember the holidays as they were the most cheerful of times. As I grew older, I had my obligations, but I never left their side. In June of 2001, Grandma passed away, leaving Grandpa heartbroken and alone. I was there even more than before because I knew he needed me; we spent time together and talked about the good old days. After about two years of Grandmaâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s passing, he married his last and third wife, Martha. Things were different, but I still never left his side. After some time, his health began to fail him, and that is when he needed me most of all. I would visit as often as possible, taking him to doctorsâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; appointments and helped in any way I could. Grandpa had to go through multiple surgeries and later was put on hospice. One night I went to visit him in the nursing home. He was in a deep sleep. But he knew I was there, and I knew he could hear me; we were finally alone once more. I began speaking, thanking him for all he had done giving me a normal childhood life. I let him know that I was grateful for him taking care of me and for never leaving my side when I was a little girl and lost and alone. I thanked him most of all for loving me. Grandpa did wake up the next day, and I continued to visit him until the night of his passing in August of 2013. I now visit his grave at Fort Sam Houston National Cemetery where he and Grandma rest eternally together. 59

CMBYN 7 by Daniel Davalos

Digital Art 60

“Letters to Myself” by LeArthur Antonio Lee

Dear Young Me, I pray that this letter finds you in time. I am sharing a few ‘heads up’ notes on life upon the day you reach ages 18, 21, and 30. So pay attention . . .. Before 18, you might have to walk the earth without your mother. This will happen after age 11. I know. RIDICULOUS! However, there is a purpose in it once you reach life past 30. You will have to cry in private, while being strong in public. Nevertheless, smile! She will still see you graduate from high school at 18, In addition to watch you start your first day of college. You will lose your father before 21. Actually, you will fall in love at 21, in addition to this, God will call you into ministry. However, that feeling you call ‘Love’ will turn to resentment. I cannot say why, yet. I will explain in another letter. Before 30, you will leave your hometown to find a better life. After 30, you will only return home twice before making it to San Antonio, Texas (I will definitely explain in another letters). This will bring you to current times, age 36. This is all I can explain. Reply to this when you can. My advice: Love without flaw. Reach for the stars. Moreover, never stop dreaming. Love, Future Me. P.S. You will love again. That, I promise.

(The reply) Dear Future Me, As I read this message, I cry. I cry because some of what you have told me I have already seen in my dreams. I am scared because I carry my motherâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s gift of dreams and visions. I also possess the gift of interpretation. I am not sure if I will be ready. Nevertheless, I know I have to do this. I must do this. I have to. I cannot move forward unless I endure these things. I am still scaredâ&#x20AC;Ś Nevertheless, I will trust the process. Thank you for this message. I will write back for more answers. Blessings, Young Me P.S. Never stop helping others see their dreams out . . ..

â&#x20AC;&#x153;Untitledâ&#x20AC;? by Manual Garcia

Coming from far away, I can hear a desperate voice calling out my name. She was a mother who recently lost her reason to live, Her heart in the grave next to her child. She said she remembered the good old days With her little boy next to the lake house, clouds gently wrapping around the warm sun, her boy eating a piece of cake. With every word, she said her heart was pouring out more and more, every word bringing a new emotion, Helping her get over the grief of losing a loved one. But the good memories will not last forever, nor will they bring me back.

Isolation by Daniel Davalos

Photograph 64

“Out of Service” by Ethan Stokes

I tried to call again last night And still there is no answer He says He’ll always pick up And help me when I waver.

But time and time again I try To ask Him for His guidance. It makes me ask myself, “Why?” “Why do I get silence?” Others speak of revelation When they call for help. Yet I, who give Him dedication, Hear nothing if I yell.

It often leaves me wondering, “Can He even hear my call? When I cry out in time of need, Does He really care at all?”

Music: A Language We All Understand by Julieta Nations

Photograph 66

“The Words of Wisdom” by Erwin Sotelo

Make sure you do your bed before you walk out the room and make sure you do it twice. When choosing an outfit, pick the one that hasn’t been seen in public. Teach yourself to find love in women and not lust; if fail to do so, you will be alone forever. Learn how to respect a woman and how to respect a man because there are big distinctions. Learn to distinguish a false handshake and a handshake with honor. Mother, what do you mean with a false handshake? Son, due to my acquaintance with life problems, just remember that looks are deceiving. Do not captivate yourself by a woman’s outer beauty, but captivate yourself by her inner beauty. You mean her guts must be pretty? Momma, I’m confused. Show respect to anyone no matter what job they have, what age they have, what culture they worship, or if they have a different economic status from you; remember that being respectful and humble will make you the richest person in the world; we are all equal. Son, my innate task is to prepare you for the real world out there, a world where life can laugh at you, or you can laugh at life. Son, in this life, there is only one type of struggle you can pick from because if you are broke or poor, you will struggle; if you want to become rich, you will struggle; the choice is in your hands to pick your struggle. But please, son, I beg you; do not commit larceny; if you want something, work for it; make your forehead sweat for it. Do not procrastinate in school; just remember that a pencil is very light compared to a shovel. Do not condescend yourself; remember that we are all equal. Do not seek problems, but when facing problems, do not flee the terrain. But also, do not entitle yourself as a coward or as a brave man. Do not trust your luck because the world can get dark on you. Wait, Mom, so what you are saying is that I’m always unlucky at night? Trust my words, son, and you will live a happy life; keep in mind that whomever dies elderly must have lived a peaceful life. Do not fall into the temptation of drugs and alcohol. I don’t think that you want to see Momma cry at a funeral. What do drugs and alcohol have to do with a funeral, Mom? Keep drinking that juice for the rest of your life, son, and you will comprehend. Just one thing, son; never forget about me, this old lady who is granting you these words of wisdom to prepare you for life. Now, pick up that juice box and throw it in the recycling bin; we have to keep this world green. Ahh, so that’s why the grass and trees are green, right? 67

Hogwarts by Lauren Estrada

Photograph 68

â&#x20AC;&#x153;Redheadâ&#x20AC;? by Erika Neighbors

Her gleaming smile and fiery auburn hair gave a friendly touch to her tall stature. She is a hard worker. She is kind. She has a fun and loving heart. Her bright amber eyes burst with excitement. She smiles at the opportunity to help someone,. Her personality is forever loyal. She is nice. Her joyful spirit can be quite contagious. She laughs in sweet sounds, And she is a redhead.

“The World Is at Your Command” by Tabitha Schuchardt

I envy the sun For its light is able to kiss your face every morning I pity the mirrors you walk past For they do not possess the animacy to admire the beauty before them I commend the stars For they know how to keep from melting within your gaze I condole the earth For all its oceans could never extinguish the flame you’ve caused in my heart

A Girl and Her Pony by Carolyn Ambs

Photograph 71

“Home” by R. W. Swan

The chill of the winter wind against your skin as you wait in line, patiently yet still ecstatic. The music blasts as you hum along. A friendly stranger behind you, a conversation starts. You talk about music. A friendship begins. The line moves along, and the excitement builds. You get the merch, meet the band, take a picture. You are led to your place in front of the stage. So close. So personal. You can’t believe it. Here you are. The lights begin to fade; the audience goes wild. You cheer as the show begins; the songs play. Songs from your childhood. New songs you tried to memorize days before. It is crowded. Loud. Bright yet dark. You sing, you cheer, you scream. You know your voice will be gone the next day; your throat will hurt for a while, but it is worth it. The bass flows through your body; the vibration of the drums and guitars have you in chills. You love it and get lost in the music. A familiar tune plays, and once again, the crowd loses its mind. You feel tears in your eyes; a wave of emotion engulfs your soul. A special song that helped you through hard times. A song that spoke to you, healed you. A song that saved you. When you felt like you hit rock bottom, this song was there. “She’s talking to angels, counting the stars. Making a wish on a passing car. She’s dancing with strangers, falling apart. Waiting for Superman to pick her up, in his arms. In his arms, she’s waiting for Superman. To lift her up and take her anywhere. Show her love and flying through the air. Save her now, before it’s too late tonight. Oh, at the speed of light. And she smiles.” You blubber along the words engraved in your heart, in your mind. You reach out; he holds your hand and tugs on it, just like the song did to your soul. You break down. You feel something you never thought you would feel again. The sense of comfort, happiness. In a sea of faces, in the midst of strangers, the music pumps through. You feel at home.

Stargazing by Sara Young

Digital Art 73

“The Tale of Isaiah the Strong” by Jade Galaviz

This is an epic tale about a very young lad that was super strong. And this young lad was named Isaiah. His strength was both a blessing and a curse. He was able to help the town’s people with tasks they needed, but the other kids his age were afraid. Isaiah grew very lonely and wondered why God made him the way he was. He decided he was going to go on a quest to Mt. Zion and ask God what his true purpose for being so strong was. Isaiah went to bed that evening and had a dream that this journey would be hard to make on his own. He tossed and turned until he suddenly leaped out of bed, panting with terror, sweat all over him. Then, suddenly, a bright shimmering, dancing ball of light appeared. “Fear not, Isaiah,” the ball of light said, “For I have been sent from God to help guide you through this journey so you will not be alone.” Isaiah, hiding his eyes from the brightness, asked, “What should I call you when I need you?” The bright light then formed itself into a beautiful, elegant young, and the glow dimmed. “I am Zoe, a spirit from above. Get your rest, Isaiah,” Zoe said. And with a gust of wind, Isaiah fell back into a deep sleep. The next morning Isaiah woke up and thought it was all just a dream. Isaiah quickly packed up what little he had and set off on his quest. Isaiah walked for hours until he came to the desert of white sand. Isaiah stood at the edge and looked around, for he had only heard stories of people going in and never coming back. Isaiah contemplated on continuing this quest or not. Then, with a deep breath, he started wandering the desert. For forty days, he walked, and with his supplies running low, he started to find his strength growing weak. He lay in the sand until night fall. While looking at the stars, he heard his name whispered in the wind. He sat up and saw Zoe in the distance. He ran to her and said, “You really are real!” Zoe smirked, and then when the wind blew, she turned back into the light and showed Isaiah the way to the end of the desert. Isaiah gathered his strength and began walking once more. By the break of dawn, Isaiah had reached the end of the desert. There were a pool of water and a tree full of ripe, delicious fruit right in front of him. Isaiah ate and felt his strength grow stronger than ever. He ate so much that he fell asleep. Isaiah arose from his sleep to a rumble on the ground. The ground shook like an earthquake. Isaiah climbed the fruit tree to get a better look. When he got to the top, he saw a huge giant. The giant was at least ten feet tall and had one eye. Isaiah felt that his strength was no 74

match for this giant. He hid behind a rock. Then Zoe once again appeared and asked why he was hiding. Isaiah told Zoe he was afraid of the giant and didn’t know if his strength would be enough to defeat him. Zoe shook her head. “Isaiah, don’t you know that strength comes from above? With that strength, you can do anything!” Again, the wind blew, and Zoe disappeared. Isaiah decided to wait until nightfall to make his attack. As night approached, Isaiah followed the giant from a distance. Isaiah watched as he curled up to a rock like he was going to bed, but to Isaiah’s surprise, he saw the giant weep. The giant wept, calling out to the sky, “Why is everyone afraid of me?” Isaiah felt the pain the giant felt. He too began to weep and decided to not attack the giant. Isaiah fell asleep and rose the next morning to continue his quest to Mt. Zion. He walked for several days non-stop until he reached the bottom of the mountain. He directed his eyes to the sky to look for the top. But he couldn’t see it, for Mt. Zion was too tall; it touched the heavens. With a gust of wind, Zoe appeared. “Are you ready?” Isaiah replied, “I made it this far; no point in backing down now.” And with a gust of wind, Zoe disappeared. Isaiah took a deep breath and began to climb. He climbed and climbed for what felt like forever. As he climbed he thought of the giant and his tears. He felt empathy for him and his situation. Isaiah reached the top of Mt. Zion. He was out of breath. Isaiah gained his composure and stood up. He looked around, and the clouds blew away. He could see as far as the eye could see. It was amazing seeing God’s wonderful creation. He then heard a strong voice come from above. “Isaiah, why are you here?” said God. “God, please tell me why You made me so strong that it scares everyone around me.” God replied, “Isaiah, I have given everyone different gifts. Some choose to use them; other don’t.” Isaiah thought for a minute then asked, “I have a choice to be strong?” God replied, “Yes, but if you choose not to, you won’t live up to your purpose I have for you. Someone will suffer because of it.” And just then, Isaiah knew what he needed to do. He thanked God and began climbing down the mountain. He reached the bottom and ran. He ran for days until he came to the place he saw the giant. He fell to his knees from exhaustion and passed out. Isaiah woke up and found himself in the hands of the giant. He looked him in the eyes and smiled. He spoke with the giant and told him about his journey. He became great friends with the giant and decided to stay with him. There they gave thanks to God for friendship and their strength. Their friendship led to a lifetime of traveling the land and helping others to find their special powers for the purpose of God’s plan. 75

Davis Mountains State Park Javelina by Raquel Lopez

Photograph 76

“Season Happenings” by Erika Neighbors

[Spring] In Spring there will be Lots of surprises for you and me Going outside and having fun Sitting by the lake in the nice warm sun And that is what happens in spring. [Summer] In Summer school is out Kids are excited they jump and shout The parents however Are just enjoying the weather And that is what happens in Summer. [Autumn] In Autumn school is back in Leaves are piling up you don’t know where to begin Grandmas are thinking about Thanksgiving Families are trying to balance this crazy way of living And that is what happens in Autumn. [Winter] In Winter there is baking and wrapping gifts so much to do Christmas is just days away and we aren’t halfway through Tree decorating and caroling fun Presents to buy on the run And that is what happens in Winter.

Precious Soul by Lauren Estrada

Copic Markers 78

“Promised Myself Better” by Samantha Lopez

I questioned myself as I looked at you; why am I still here? Why do I let you control my happiness? I could ask myself a million questions as to why I stayed so long. I knew in my head I wasn't happy, that all the pain and hurt I was feeling was because of you! I cried myself to sleep way too many times until one day I opened my eyes and just lay on my bed and thought to myself, today is the day I’m leaving, and I’m never looking back! I made a promise to myself I was not going to go back to someone who mentally broke me to pieces. I knew I needed time to heal and find myself again and my true happiness. I had lost myself badly; I always thought the worst in everything. I would question my faith because I didn’t understand why God would let all these bad things happen to me. I always looked in the mirror and just thought I wasn't pretty enough; I wasn't skinny enough; I wasn't meant to be happy. How could I love someone so much and give them my all? When they would just get up and leave every single time, they didn’t want me anymore. But when you needed me again, I would always be right there to take you back. You promised you were going to change, and things were going to be better this time around. It was always a lie though, every single time. I can’t believe I was so blinded by your words that I would take you back without any hesitation. You never cared; you could see me cry and still choose to walk away. That’s when I knew my time was near! I had to walk away; I was so over you hurting me! I was done being that girl! THAT GIRL who let you walk all over. I found myself smiling again, laughing again, chasing my goals, being young, and having fun! For once I could say I was being ME! I opened my eyes every morning thanking God for giving me the courage to walk away when I did. I was so confident in my own skin again, and that right there is all I wanted to feel again. I started living my life without you, and that was the best decision I have ever made so far. As much as I wanted to wish bad upon you, I didn’t. I thank you for putting me through this lesson in life because I will never let someone treat me like that again. 79

â&#x20AC;&#x153;Beautiful Liquid Goldâ&#x20AC;? by Dwayne Lee

As I grasp the long neck of this amber bottle, My excitement increases with the taste that follows. This sudsy gold liquid within its chamber, Brings such satisfaction, only a true lover can imagine.

Cold condensation forms on the surface. Bubbles from within pop with relished anticipation. Slowly poured into an icy glass, As if a gold river , it changes into a gold waterfall, Splashing on to an icy shore.

At first sip, the experience is delectable. Lemon, spices, with a hoppy sensation. Cool, crisp, and refreshing libation. Oh, how I love this Beautiful Liquid Gold.

Dreamfire by Sara Young

Digital Art 81

“Sun-Filled Night by Robert Brady

After a long day of running fire and EMS calls, everyone was exhausted. We were very short handed with all our department out for a training exercise. There was a total of six of us that running the 150 square mile area we called home. Our Fire Chief made everyone go to get some sleep. We were 22 hours into our 72-hour shift at the fire station. While we were sleeping, we felt what we believed to be an earthquake. The vibration was so strong it knocked me right out of our bunk. We all jumped up and flew out the dorm room into the bay where our fire trucks were sitting. I ran to the bay door where our pumper was sitting and opened the door so we could see what was going on. As the door started to raise, I could see the brightest light I had ever seen coming from the night sky. The fire alarm went off in the station, advising us that there had been an explosion on the pipeline that was 5 miles from our station. The chief called out over the radio that we were on our way. Everyone jumped into action, putting on our turnout gear and air packs, loading in the truck in our designated seats. As the truck pulled away from the station, our lights flashed brightly against the pavement. Our sirens wailing like a wolf howling at a full moon, we raced to the scene of the explosion. While we were in the truck, we started putting our game plan together so that when we arrived, everyone would know their job. The chief turned to me and said, “As soon as we get there, you take Williams and Bell and see how far the fire has spread in the woods. I will stay with the engine and the rest and see if we can get a line on the ground to start containment.” All I could do was nod my head and give him a thumbs up. With the roar of the engine and me in my mask, he would never be able to hear my voice. As we pulled on the scene, Williams, Bell, and I got out of the back of the truck and grabbed the tools that we might need. I grabbed an axe. I had Williams grab a chain saw since we were going into dense woods. I had Bell grab a shovel in case we needed to dig a trench to contain the blaze. We came around the side of the truck to see a stream of fire that was blowing 200 feet in the air from the gases that were feeding its intense hunger. 82

“OK, Chief, we are headed out to see how far the fire spread,” I yelled to him. The Chief gave me the OK signal. Williams, Bell, and I started into the woods. We could see that the fire had hit very far into the woods. We walked for what seemed to be an eternity with our full gear and air packs. We had several small fires at the edge of the charred woods that we needed to be put out. We walked for what seemed like an eternity. All we could see were charred woods, no lights to be seen except for our flashlights and glowsticks we had brought in our gear. Finally, in the distance, I could see some lights from a home that thankfully didn’t have any damage from the violent explosion. We started heading to the house as fast as we could to make sure that the owner and family were okay. As we walked into the yard, I recognized the house, as it was one of my closest friend’s. I looked at my partners and said, “Looks like we don’t need to do a workout today. We just walked 12 miles through the woods.” We all started to laugh and take off some of our gear so that we could cool down. “Chief, the blast stretches out 12 miles. We are currently sitting at Bob Mills’s place off White Oak St.,” I told him over the radio. “That’s clear; I am sending the police unit to pick you up,” he replied. As we were waiting for the officer to arrive, Bob had come out and told me he had seen a group of kids on 4-wheelers and dirt bikes come racing through the woods past his house just moments before the explosion. He thought it was a little funny for them to be out there because it was so late at night. When the officer arrived, Bob told the officer what he had witnessed. We loaded up in the officer’s truck and made our way back to the scene where our team was waiting. I told the Chief what Bob had said. He told me that made sense to him, as he could see a backhoe in the middle of the fire. The description that the officer was given by Bob was sent out to other officers that were in the area. One officer radioed that he saw the 4-wheelers and dirt bikes parked in front of a house by Bob’s. The officers went to talk to the owner of the house and came to find out it was a group of kids ages 14-17 that wanted to build a dirt track on the pipeline. They had hotwired the backhoe, and one of the young boys that knew how to operate it started digging a hole in the dirt. That’s when he struck the gas line. He left the backhoe running, and they all scurried away like ants. The gas finally was ignited by the backhoe engine. That’s what caused the explosion that made it look like a sun-filled night.

Show Me More by Vanessa Perez

Acrylic Paint on Paper 84

“Bruised Ego” by Ethan Stokes

How far would a man go to protect his reputation? "The Cask of Amontillado” is a tale written by Edgar Allan Poe, who is famous for his dark, and sometimes disturbing, stories. This story is no exception. The main character, Montresor, is a man of high class who feels disrespected by his peer, Fortunato, and vows to avenge his bruised ego and threatened status. Montresor uses Fortunato’s affinity for wine to trick him into the catacombs beneath his home to verify that the cask of wine Montresor bought was Amontillado. Influenced by his need to prove his knowledge of fine wine, Fortunato falls for Montresor’s plan of vengeance. Throughout the story, Poe shows the lengths to which a man would go when he is threatened or disrespected by another man. “The Cask of Amontillado” illustrates how threatening a man’s status can make him act irrationally, go against his nature, and go to extreme measures to defend that status. First, challenging a man’s authority on something he is passionate about can make him act in ways that would seem irrational in order to prove himself. We are told that Fortunato is a wine connoisseur and is an expert in old wines (Poe 179). Fortunato’s reputation as an expert in distinguishing vintage wines is threatened when Montresor tells him he is going to seek the advice of Luchresi, another wine connoisseur, to validate whether Montresor’s new cask of Amontillado is actually Amontillado (Poe 180). Fortunato claims, “Luchresi cannot tell Amontillado from Sherry” (Poe 180). Not only does he insult Luchresi, but despite having a cold and a cough, the drunken Fortunato is determined to traverse through the extensive cold, wet catacombs to prove that he is the best man to test the wine’s validity. Poe shows that Fortunato is so blinded by his need to prove himself that he ignores his health problems, and he insists, “[T]he cough is a mere nothing; it will not kill me. I shall not die of a cough” (Poe 181). Fortunato recognizes that he is ill, but instead of acting rationally, he endangers his health to prove himself and continues through the stuffy, dirty catacombs. In the end, this need to prove himself as the ultimate wine expert leads to his demise. Secondly, while threatening a man’s status can make him act irrationally, Poe also gives an example of how this threat can make a man go against his nature to defend his status. We first hear of Montresor’s intention to get revenge on Fortunato after Montresor feels insulted by Fortunato (Poe 179). Though Montresor has been planning his vengeance for a while, Montresor asks Fortunato repeatedly if he is well enough to continue (Poe 181) These moments could be interpreted 85

as Poe showing how determined Fortunato is to prove himself, but they could also be seen as Montresor feeling momentary guilt about what he is about to do and wishes Fortunato would turn back and not be killed. Poe also gives one more indication that Montresor is feeling guilty about killing Fortunato. As Montresor is finishing the wall to seal Fortunato in the catacombs, Fortunato stops pleading with Montresor to let him go. When all Montresor hears is the jingling of Fortunato’s hat, Montresor says, “My heart grew sick; it was the dampness of the catacombs that made it so” (Poe 184) This shows that his nature, which told him to stop, is overruled by Montresor’s need to protect his status from the constant ridicule by Fortunato. Because his quest for vengeance is more powerful than his conscience, he carries out his plan and kills Fortunato. Ultimately, threatening a man’s status can drive him to do horrific things in order to protect his status. In the beginning of the story, we are shown that Montresor took many injuries from Fortunato, but when Fortunato starts insulting him, he vows to get revenge (Poe 179). From this, one surmises that Montresor can handle being pranked by Fortunato, which could be laughed off in front of other people, but he cannot handle being insulted, which would make him feel disrespected and feel like Fortunato is challenging him in front of others. Montresor’s inhumane killing of Fortunato shows that Montresor views him as nothing more than a threat to his status and reputation that needs to be exterminated. “The Cask of Amontillado,” then, shows that a man will go to extreme measures to protect his status, even if it means going against his nature or acting irrationally. First, Fortunato’s ego and extreme need to prove that he is the authority on fine wine leads him to act irrationally when confronted by Montresor about the Amontillado. Even though he is ill, he jeopardizes his health and follows Montresor into the cold, dirty catacombs to show that he is the best man to test Montresor’s Amontillado, and to show that he is better than Luchresi. Second, despite having envisioned Fortunato burning alive for insulting him, Montresor has several fleeting moments during which his true nature comes out, and he wants Fortunato to prevent him from going through with his deadly plan (Poe 181). Even though he admits to his heart feeling sick, Montresor’s need to eliminate the threat to his status is stronger than his conscience (Poe 184). Finally, Montresor shows the extreme measures a man can take to protect his reputation and status by trapping Fortunato in the catacombs for disrespecting and insulting him. In this dark tale, Poe demonstrates that while the degree to which one will go to protect his reputation may vary, from risking his health to prove himself, to burying someone alive for insulting him, all people have an interest in protecting their reputation. Works Cited Poe, Edgar Allan. “The Cask of Amontillado.” The Norton Introduction to Literature, edited by Kelly J. Mays, Shorter 12th ed., W. W. Norton, 2017, pp. 178-184. 86

CMBYN 3 by Daniel Davalos

Digital Art 87

“My Favorite Guide” by Erwin Sotelo

Why should we appreciate our teachers? Teacher are like our guidance map towards our future; they will administer valuable guidance for us to become successful in life. My favorite teacher was Mrs. Roark; she was my high school senior year English teacher. Mrs. Roark is my favorite teacher for three main reasons. She encouraged me to focus and to continue in school after high school, was very strict with me so that I would be successful, and was my first teacher who supported me in my studies. Starting off, early in my senior year I was slacking and skipping class most of the time. My grades were far below the passing score; however, I did not really care as much as I do now. Two weeks after school started, Mrs. Roark noticed that I was skipping her class about three times per week. One day when I showed up to her class, her entire faced changed completely; her face was full of anger. I walked in class and with an ugly look she called me and said, “We need to have a serious conversation outside.” When we both went outside, I was feeling her fury towards me, but I did not say anything. After closing the door, right at the moment when I was going to look at her in the eyes, she said, “What the hell is your problem?” In my mind, urgently I knew this was something serious, considering the fact that school had just started two weeks before, and for her to talk to me like that only meant one thing, trouble. After she told me that, I replied, “What do you mean by ‘what the hell is wrong with me,’ Mrs. Roark?” With words full of anger, she replied, “Why do you skip my class frequently? Do you not care about your future?” I was speechless and felt as if there were a knot in my throat. I was listening to her words. In one sentence, she said, “I want you to be successful in life, not miserable, but with these grades, an awful future awaits you.” After listening to that sentence, I knew that I had to dedicate my life and time to school in order to achieve my goals. Moreover, Mrs. Roark was very strict with me for the whole school year, but behind that, there was a purpose for all that strictness. I knew that if she was very strict with me, it was because she really cared about my education and my future. She separated me from my friends; she even requested a schedule change so that I would not get any distractions from friends and other colleagues that I knew. That triggered anger in me; I had no other choice but to swallow my fury 88

and to recognize why she was doing this. I spent the whole year working hard so that I could prove to Mrs. Roark that I would be prosperous not only throughout my senior year, but also in life. Months passed, and it was final exam day; this was my only opportunity to demonstrate to my teacher that I could pass that test. Surprisingly, Mrs. Roark, with a joyful face, called me to her desk to notify me about my final exam score. I had passed with an 89. I then thanked her for making changes in my life and that I was half way to the finish line. In addition, it was January of 2018, and it was a fresh start for a new semester. I knew that I had five months to get my life together and to focus in passing all my classes, graduating from high school, and deciding whether I was going to college or not. As the months passed by, graduation got closer and closer; a thing called senioritis began to kick in. I was feeling a decline in motivation; however, I could not give up because I was so close to finishing high school and proving my teacher wrong about being miserable in life. It was obvious that my lack of motivation was present, and that triggered Mrs. Roark. Then, she interfered in my situation. Mrs. Roark said this to me, “You worked hard along this journey; do not stop now. Continue with your studies; remember, be successful not miserable.” That boosted my confidence in continuing with my studies and helped with my decision in attending college. Furthermore, I applied to St. Philip’s, and I planned then to transfer to UTSA to pursue my career. As a result, senior year was complicated, but it paid off. When it was graduation day, I could not believe that I was actually going to walk across the stage. I quickly ran to find Mrs. Roark, and there she was, looking at other graduates with a big smile from ear to ear. I walked up to her and said, “Mrs. Roark, I am graduating.” Then she replied, “One ending is just another beginning. Congratulations! You deserve it for working hard. Do not give up; remember, be successful not miserable.” After that short speech, she gave me a big hug and said, “When you walk on that stage, just remember all the things I did for you so that you can have this unforgettable memory.” As previously stated, Mrs. Roark has been my favorite teacher even though I disagreed with some of her actions. It was all worth it at the end. Her actions made me stronger, but her words of wisdom made me think outside the box and to also reflect on how my future was going to be if my time and effort were not being dedicated to school. This is why Mrs. Roark will always be someone I value a lot for not only making a big change in my life, but also for influencing me in my education and to be successful in life.

â&#x20AC;&#x153;2:48 a.m., against black sheetsâ&#x20AC;? by Claire Elliott

I touch your skin anytime I can, Because I'm not sure how many times I'll have left to. This is not a poem about my mortality, Nor yours. It's a poem about how my fingertips enjoy the softness of your earlobe.

It's a poem about the freckles on your shoulders that you hate so much but I imagine you carrying the entire galaxy on your back. And then I hate myself for placing the weight of the world on you. So I encourage you to sleep, nested between my breast and arm, tucking these intimate moments into the pockets of worn jeans and winter jackets. So when you reach your hands into them unexpectedly, you'll pull them out like lucky pennies and melted mints. These moments are meant for me, When I feel like I am not enough To stand in rays of sunlight that poke Through your ribcage like church bells Breaking the silence of Saturday night's mistakes.

I donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t know how to love myself anymore, Because you loved me enough to make up for that. So I just became dust and settled. But you collected me off first editions, And the knickknacks of the places we traveled. Compressed me in your arms So I felt like a diamond again. Praying was easier when there was nothing wrong in my life, My center of gravity has always been you, Keeping me grounded as toe the edge Sobbing why am I like this. My scorched earth heart Burning any who comes in. I am a work in progress. A half-finished poem With misspelled words Coffee stained Ink blotched. But you still fold me into your coat pockets And wrap me around you on cold days.

Freedom by Marisol Hernandez

Photograph 92

“Nunca Te Rindas” by Julieta Nations

Nos caemos y nos levantamos Nos reímos y lloramos Todos estamos aquí por una razón Por nuestros hijos, por nuestros padres, por nosotros mismos Por cualquier razón Nunca te rindas Si fallas, inténtalo otra ves Todos fallan. Pero nunca te rindas Cuando otros dicen que no puedes Cree en ti misma Aprende, crece, enseña Nadie es perfecto Todos luchamos Simplemente nunca te rindas

St. Philip's Guitar Ensemble Maria Andrews Brian Boone Alyssa Guzman Jo Guzman Juan Mata Alyas Pacheco Bruce Panagopoulos Catalina Valero Under the direction of Dr. David Torres and Christian Tristan Dr. David Torres has been teaching music for St. Philip's College since 2007. He currently teaches Music Theory, Music Appreciation, Private Guitar Instruction, and Guitar Ensemble. He is excited to work with the ensemble in making the music program grow and branch out to other areas of the college.

Our Judges

Fiction, Nonfiction, & Literary Analysis: San Juan San Miguel is

the Academic Program Coordinator of the Rose R. Thomas Writing Center and an Adjunct Instructor at St. Philip’s College. He has a Bachelor of Arts Degree in English from St. Mary’s University and a Master’s Degree in English Literature from UTSA. He enjoys travelling, cooking (and eating,) cycling, reading, writing, and funding Kickstarter campaigns but most of all basketball and aviation! He is currently in pursuit of two of his lifelong ambitions: 1, to be a pilot and 2, to be an NCAA Division I Men’s Basketball Coach!

Poetry: Marissa Ramirez has a Bachelor of Arts Degree in Latin

American Studies from Oberlin College and a Master of Arts Degree in English from the University of Texas, San Antonio. Before embarking on a career as an English instructor, Ramirez worked as an event organizer with a local cultural arts organization. She has an eight-year-old son, and together they love to travel the world, eat ice cream, and sleep under the stars.

Fine Art & Digital Art: Jennifer Agricola-Mojica has been a part of

the St. Philip’s College Art Faculty for 15 years. She holds a B.F.A. degree from Ohio University in Athens, Ohio, and an M.F.A. degree from The University of Texas at San Antonio. Jennifer’s work is part of the Linda Pace Foundation, and she has exhibited her work nationally and internationally, including in Prague, Czech Republic.

Photography: Diane Gavin, PhD, is the Department Chair for

Communications & Learning at St. Philip’s College. Her PhD is from Syracuse University in English. She also holds an MS in Higher Education Administration and Management from Drexel University, an MA in Linguistics from Syracuse, and an M Ed in Secondary English Education from SUNY Oswego. Her prior life included over a decade working in the media: first as a commercial radio DJ, then in advertising and in packaging design as well as managing her own freelance advertising/marketing research and design company. She has published six books and more than 23 book chapters or articles. Her moments of Zen include driving the open road with music blasting, finding interesting places to take photos, and having complete peace and quiet to enjoy the day’s first cup of coffee. She is still awaiting that last moment of Zen to occur.