Spring 2024 Griffin Review

Cover Image by Angel Martinez ‘27

REVIEWGriffin Team

Editors in Chief: Dylan Lumumba, Fayi Nshanji

Assistant Editor in Chief: Rafael Arellano

Interviews:

Kordell Tate-Roberts, Savion

Weaver-Diaz

Layout and Design: Oscar Lu, Victor Lu

Nonfiction Editor: Joshua Morgan

Fiction Editor: Dennis Smith

Poetry Editor: Amadu Jalloh

Editors: Lorenzo Kamanzi, Angel Asiamah

Assistant Editors: James O’ Brien, Elijah Elumeze

Faculty Advisors: Mr. Fulmer, Mr. Love, Ms. Saunders

DEDICATION

Dedicated to Mr. Sherrill, Mr. Ventura, Ms. Boone, Mr. Blair

Mr. Sherrill, Mr. Ventura, Ms. Boone, and Mr. Blair are pivotal figures in our school’s leadership. Mr. Sherrill has served as our Head of School for the past 15 years, Mr. Ventura as Head Cottage Parent of Catherwood, Ms. Boone as the Head of the Humanities Department, and Mr. Blair as the Director of Student Life and DEI. Through their dedicated efforts, these faculty members have ensured the well-being of the students in the CFS community.

Mr. Sherrill, an Episcopal priest, has been instrumental in creating an inclusive Chapel program, spreading the word about the school near and far, and making significant enhancements to our programs and our facilities, including the Buck Family Center for the Arts, an all-weather track and the addition of solar panels for sustainable energy at CFS.

Mr. Ventura has significantly contributed to the success of freshmen. Over the past four years as the Head of House in Catherwood Cottage, leveraging his own experience as a former student, he has fostered an environment for freshmen to grow and develop into successful young men, with the Class of 2024 being his first freshman class.

Ms. Boone has been actively involved in various aspects of academic life, serving as the faculty advisor for the Yearbook Club and Japanese Culture Club, two of the most popular clubs at CFS. Additionally, as the former Head of the Humanities department, she has played a pivotal role in redefining the humanities curriculum.

Mr. Blair is renowned as the primary contact for student life concerns. He has been an unforgettable voice in the CFS community, advocating for and supporting all students.

While the upcoming school year will usher in new leadership, these faculty members will be deeply missed and appreciated for their contributions to the school community. The Griffin Review Staff takes pride in dedicating this year’s issue to Mr. Sherrill, Mr. Ventura, Ms. Boone, and Mr. Blair as their time as members of our community concludes.

REVIEW Griffin

The Griffin Review offers publishing opportunities for all writers and artists in the CFS community. In doing so, we will celebrate both individual voices and our collective culture through visual art and literature. As a means of advocacy, The Griffin Review strives to reflect our campus and community and bring the CFS mission into the wider world.

EDITOR’S NOTE

As we wrap up another fruitful year for our school’s literary and art magazine, we are filled with joy and gratitude. This year, in particular, presented us with unique obstacles as more than half of our dedicated staff graduated last year. Their absence was keenly felt, but it also provided an opportunity for growth and renewal within our team.

We are immensely proud to announce that despite these hurdles, we persevered and triumphed. It took a collective effort from each member of our team, but we are thrilled to say that we have curated a magazine that we believe embodies the talent of our school community.

We extend our deepest gratitude to all who submitted their art and literature for consideration and encourage you to submit any work you are particularly fond of next year. Your creativity and passion are the lifeblood of our publication, and the depth of talent continually inspires us within our school. We are

especially grateful to the underclassmen who stepped up and took on leadership roles, demonstrating remarkable dedication and vision. You are the future of our magazine, and we have no doubt that you will continue to lead with distinction in the years to come. We also want to extend our heartfelt thanks to those who participated in our contests. Your enthusiasm and commitment to excellence are commendable; it was a joy to see your work shine. Last, but certainly not least, we want to thank every one of you for your support and readership. Without you, our magazine would not be possible, and for that, we are eternally grateful.

Thank you!

Best, The Griffin Review Team

THE SUNRISE AT CFS

By Kordell Tate-Roberts

INTERVIEWING A NEW TEACHER

Liz Belka joined the CFS community as a Spanish teacher in the fall of 2023. She was sorted into the Maroon society, and became a mentee to Ms. Saunders, Ms. Boone, and Mr. Peake. Along with being a mentee, she also holds the position of a co-advisor and cottage affiliate to Garrett Cottage.

What comes to mind when you hear the words “A New Dawn?”

I think of a song by Nina Simone. The lyrics are: I’m feeling good, It’s a new dawn, it’s a new life for me and I’m feelin’ good. The word dawn makes me think of fire. It’s a cleanse, like fields being burned down. It’s like a life cycle.

Do you have any future plans at CFS?

I’d like to get a Spanish club started or at least do more work with our students of Hispanic heritage. I also look forward to having my own advisory next year. I guess I’m waiting for the opportunity to make itself clear for me. I’m waiting to see where I’m needed the most and I’ll go there.

What do you hope to get out of your experience here working at CFS?

This past year has been me learning how to teach and learning how to become a teacher that students trust and respect. I hope to live up to the example that my favorite teachers have given me. I think I’ll be a teacher for the rest of my life. What I learn at CFS is the fundamental knowledge that I’ll keep for the rest of my career. My goal in my lifetime is to inspire just one student to become fluent in Spanish. I recall that I didn’t want to learn Spanish when I was in high school but it was a graduation requirement. I was so angry and I can’t explain how upset I was the first time I took Spanish. I wanted to protest. But after the first class, it was like magic. It’s just that I had my first Spanish class and really enjoyed it.

Ms. Belka

Spanish Teacher

Garrett Cottage Affiliate

ALUMNI I THROWBACK POETRY

Ray of Sunlight

By: Zak Starr (Class

of 2003)

Dark clouds pass over casting a black shadow over the day.

A sweeping wind blows the dead autumn leaves across the land. It starts to rain and hail and storm. This melancholy won’t ever end.

But...

A ray of sunlight pierces through the dark and scatters like a smashed glass dispersing the darkness and gloom. That ray of sunlight is you.

THE MORNING SUN

By: Joseph

Kamp (Class of 2005)

Walking when the dawns first light kissed the horizon The thick, tangible, liquid air rolling over the hills, It came to greet me at my open window, The moist air touched my skin and left the dew on me, The refreshing liquid cleansed me and refreshed me, Soon the sun will burst through the clouds above, And the thick fog will disappear, the dew will dry. Only to remember this morning would be paradise, This image will come again soon on another day, My life will see many a morn like this, The world will be honored each morning by the great sun god, He will burst through the giant clouds with joy, Even on the great Judgment Day Earth will be kissed from above.

Open Your Eyes

By Hee Chang Eun (Class of 2010)

Open your eves and meet the light.

A world created by nature’s own beauty, Land full of mystical, wondrous snow,

A sky clear of murkiness, blue as the sea, Treetops coated with fresh fallen powder, Sprinkles escaping the grasp from above, Everything simply too bright for my eyes,

Things just to precious to gaze for myself, I’ve created this artwork for you and you only,

Open your ever and give into the sight.

THE SOLARECLIPSE

A Gallery of Griffin Photos

This photo was taken by alumni Stu Brackney, CFS Class of 1962 who took it from his home in Phoenix, Arizona

Benjamin Love Humanities Teacher

Justin Peake Spanish Teacher

The Solar Eclipse of 2024 passed us with about 90% coverage on April 8, 2024, starting at approximately 2:08 PM. Thanks to our environmental science class, a solar eclipse viewing was organized. Our students captured some impressive photos of the eclipse. We asked for submissions and here are a few of them.

Gabriel Soriano Class of 2025

Jameer Jackson Class of 2026

ENCHANTED BLOSSOMS

By Eshtiyak Shahed ‘24

DELICATE FLOWERS

By Kordell Tate-Roberts ‘26

Hoops Hero

Medium: Graphic Design By Oscar Lu ‘26

Silent Guardian

Medium: Photography By Caleb Crosby ‘24

LITERATURE

Photo by Kordell Tate-Roberts

LITERATURE

Amidst the chaos of the late 1980s, a new hit from The Pixies hit America. Their 1988 debut album, Surfer Rosa, features a hugely popular song called “Where Is My Mind?” that feels especially poignant to me today. It’s crunchy and haunting, but still earnest. I know the song is a cynical take on the saying, “keep your head in the clouds, but your feet on the ground,” but I still feel hopeful when listening to it. More than any other question, I have been forced to ask myself time and time again lately, “Where is my mind?” Recently, my brain has been everywhere but here, in the now. I’m being asked to think about my future so much that I can be surprised as to where I currently am. “Where is my mind?” I know that right now my mind is housed in my cranium. However, that’s too simplistic. The most honest response I can give is that my mind is focused on college and the doors it opens for my future. Yet, as the song says, I can’t wait to spin it and live the life I dream of.

I asked myself how I’d find the right college for me. I need to know what location is best for me to help my future. Speaking of the future, my quest to find the right college led me to Niche, a website where students share their experiences. I spent a lot of time on niche. These several hours of research made my mind reach a breaking point. My mind is on college, whether I will be accepted to the school of my dreams. “God, what am I going to do?” is a repeated phrase I keep asking myself. I honestly feel as though my best isn’t enough. These thoughts are overflowing in my head, but no one ever said success comes easy. My college research, as exhaustive as it’s been, is merely a stepping stone toward

my dream job in the biology field. I want to find happiness and fulfillment in my job in the biology field. A nice air-conditioned lab with state-of-the-art equipment and bright lights is what I think of. That enjoyment can come from having a position in the marine biology field by studying organisms underwater, researching genetics to uncover hidden mysteries, or working in the medical field to help others, etc. These ambitions of mine I realized depend on what I’m doing right now for my future. I can’t expect my goals to be achieved without hard work. Numerous hours of studying and applying to myself are key to my ambitions.

Deep down in my mind, I’m focused on achieving my goal of college and using their resources to open doors to the next stage of my life. In the pursuit of my educational goals, I’m now faced with the challenge of UChicago’s essay prompts to even be considered for admission. In order to reach this level of education, I’ve been pushing myself by taking challenging courses such as advanced biology, physics, and calculus. All the challenges and relentless studying have led to putting my best efforts into the essays from UChicago. The several prompts UChicago offered had overwhelmed me. Initially, I intended to select the first prompt. However, after writing two rough drafts of different ideas, I changed my focus. At first, there wasn’t any passion at first, but this prompt now allows me to express my genuine sentiments.

To start off the essay, I’ll type into the text box: “The Pixies are an American alternative rock band that started in the 1980s and even still plays shows today.”

WHERE IS MY MIND?

By Jon Rivera ‘24

Photo

“The wise warrior avoids the battle.” - Sun Tzu

Written by Chibueze Nwafor, Class of 2026

Nigeria, 1968.

As he enters the compound lot, Samuel looks around. He looks at the beautiful trees and nature as well as the happiness of other children playing about. However, ruining the calm and cheerful environment were the quiet but audible whispers of dissent. Why? The women and men stood and sat in their respective spaces, all unhappily discussing different variations of the same topic. Although Samuel had heard of it frequently, he ignored it, seeing it as something with little to no effect on his life. “ ... the North ... ” one uncle whispers. “..killing us.” Samuel gets closer to hear more. “SAMUEL! Come in to eat!” Mother shouts. Samuel quickly rushes into his home. Samuel sits at the table. “Thank you, Ma.” “Thank God,” she replies.

“Your father will be home from work soon. Quickly eat your food, you and your siblings get this house clean before he gets back.” Samuel eats slower, thinking. “Why do people talk about them all the time?” His siblings rush behind him, running through the house. There is a commotion outside. The door opens. “I’m back.” Samuel greets, “Good evening, Pa.” “Hello, Samuel,” he responds. Samuel’s brother greets, “Good evening, Pa.” “Hello - ”. His response is interrupted by a close and loud shout, “THE DRAFTERS ARE HERE!” Some men stand still, appearing resolved to join, while others begin to move in the opposite direction, or even start to run. But Father was gone. He had dashed away, much quicker than the siblings through the house or than the men outside. He was gone. The feeling of fear settles deep in the heart of Samuel. What was war, that it could make most men turn around and run away? Samuel decided to run too. He ran outside his house, deeper into town. He saw the arrival of the drafters and saw them starting to set up camp as well as talking to the first few families.

Six Months Later.

It was clear that the effects of war had reached the town and were starting to become very real. There was a lot less food. “..the North.” the women said, while all the men had been taken off to war or been in hiding. Many are malnourished, ribcages clearly showing through their skin and bloated heads to contrast their stick-like figures. Many are camped in abandoned churches and buildings, waiting for the next food supply from the Salvation Army. Some are hopeless and have given up. However, many have not, including Samuel and his family. While they struggle to survive like others around them, the war starts to be seen for what it truly is: a time of loss. A lady runs around town, exclaiming, “Owerri was destroyed! They burned everything!” “The North,” Samuel thinks. “They will be here soon!”, she shouts, clearly distressed. “Who?” Samuel asks, confirming. “The Nigerian Army and the Biafran Army will come here and take the lives of many men,” she responds. “But isn’t the Biafran Army on our side?” he questions. “In war, even the lives of those on the winning side will be taken in combat,” she replies. Samuel began to realize why even the most grown men feared war. But if it was so feared, why did people fight? A group of men begin to disperse throughout town, checking houses and talking to locals. One man, more important looking than the rest, walks up behind Samuel and begins to talk to the woman. “Good evening, I’m sure you know that Owerri has just been attacked. We need you to tell everyone to gather all the men in the village. We will fight and destroy the North,” he explains. “No,” she responds. “Why?” he questions. “Do you not want the best for the Igbo people? How can we have no rights in our own country?” “No,” she replies. “Why don’t you ask the little boy here how he feels about losing his father, his brother, or his uncle to the war? Or how he feels about losing access to food?” But Samuel was gone. He had dashed away, much quicker than the siblings in the house or than the men outside. He was gone. Samuel had gone to warn his father that they had come, realizing that it may have already been too late.

A few minutes later, Samuel arrives. From right outside the gate, he looks in to see his mother discussing with 2 military-clad men. “..I’m a widow,” says Mother. The men look at each other with eyes of sympathy and shame. “We are sorry,” one replies, shaking his head. “But it is protocol to check each house we come to. The Igbo people need every soldier so we can stand up and fight.” Mother is clearly upset and irritated. “We are running out of time,” the other man says, and begins to push past Mother to make his way into the house. Entering the house, they are greeted by a nearly empty silence disrupted only by the very faint sounds of breathing or the occasional wooden creak. Samuel comes closer, slowly entering after them, as he and his Mother watch curiously. Samuel’s siblings are nowhere to be seen, and neither is his father. Realizing his father had already escaped, Samuel’s heart lightened and he let out a sigh. But for some reason, the look of panic was still on Mother’s face. “CREAAAK!” A loud sound comes from below. The men start to investigate, looking for the way downstairs. They quickly find it and head down, trying to locate the source of the sound. “Tap, tap, tap.” Someone is walking down here, trying to be quiet but failing. “Tap, tap, ,tap tap, tap.” The steps pick up speed. The men quickly follow suit deeper into the basement. The steps become closer and closer, until they completely stop. It is silent. They are nearby. The men turn around and try to search the poorly lit basement. “Tap, tap, TAP.” Someone rushes by the men in the dark basement, speeding up the stairs and out the door. They quickly turn around to follow him. Samuel is scared. Samuel knows he saw his father in the basement. Will they take him like they took everyone else? The men make their way outside to catch the person. “Why do you have to take everybody?” Samuel says. “What?” A man replies. “Why are you killing everyone? Why do yo-” Samuel is interrupted by a rough slap to the cheek. “Watch your mouth. You children do not understand what is going on. We need soldiers to fight so that we are not persecuted in our own country. Some may die, but we are fighting for the Igbo people.” But Samuel felt that he did understand. Why couldn’t people just stop fighting each other? Then neither his father or others would need to run away or suffer like how they were. “This has taken too much time,” the other man said. “We need to go.” After Mother was sure they had left, she called out for Father. He takes a minute to walk out of the basement where he was hiding and pats Samuel on the head. “Thank you, Samuel.”

On a Saturday night in March of 1990, a 27-year-old gay man left a local bar in a gay-friendly neighborhood of Washington, DC, where he had been having drinks with friends.

As he exited the bar and made his way down the short walkway that led to the street, he was grabbed from behind and held by two people while a third person hit him in the face with a baseball bat. The blow dislocated his jaw on the left side and broke or knocked out four teeth. He slumped into the two people holding him and saw the third person raising the bat again and then suddenly he was on the ground, and they were running away laughing. He had been saved by a second strike from the bat by another person exiting the bar at just the right time. That person called 911 and the young man was taken to GW Hospital where his jaw was repositioned, and his lips and gums stitched, and he was released the next morning.

The impact of the bat caused widespread damage to his gums which resulted in further tooth loss throughout the years. His jaw still clicks to this day when he chews, and, he has had several bouts of Bell’s Palsy due to nerve damage in his jaw. The police classified the attack as an anti-gay hate crime, but the attackers were never caught.

The young man who was attacked was me. I’ve shared this story with various groups of people within CFS over the past six years, but I’m putting it in black and white in a published magazine because I want Griffins of all ages to understand why I believe it is so important to confront homophobia, to educate young men about sexual identity and to cultivate

acceptance and authenticity. You see, the three people who attacked me were teenage boys and at the time of the attack, I was a teacher of teenage boys at a Catholic all-boys high school. It was the height of the AIDS epidemic and Washington DC was an HIV hotspot and anti-gay sentiments were high.

Nearly every day after I returned to school after my attack I would look out at my students--boys who thought I was mugged, because I couldn’t be open about my sexuality in a Catholic school--and I would think to myself that the three boys who attacked me could have been some of my boys and maybe, some of my boys were also attacking other gay people, either verbally or, god-forbid, physically.

As a result of those pervasive thoughts, and a deep desire to be able to change young people’s attitudes about gay-related issues, I resigned from teaching that summer and took a job as the first education director for a fledgling organization called the Sexual Minority Youth Assistance League (SMYAL for short), a non-profit organization that supported and protected LGBTQ teens and young adults in a way that no one had ever supported me.

This was my new dawn and what had until then been a life filled with the darkness of a deeply guarded secret and constant Catholic shame, was now a life filled with light, love, and authenticity. Every LGBTQ+ person deserves light, love, and the ability to live an authentic life.

This is why clubs like GSDA are so important.

This is why seeing the rainbow flag hanging high in our school can be such a comforting and

EVERY DAWN STARTS WITH DARKNESS

By Robert Warfel

Photo by Ayden Cadle

welcoming sign of hope and support to current and prospective LGBTQ Griffins. That is why openness and honesty de feats assumptions and stereotypes. This is why NOT hearing derogatory words or expressions is transformational for closeted kids as well as for our community.

Let me be clear: CFS is not my grade school, and it is not my high school, and it is not the high school I taught at 34 years ago. And thankfully our society is not what it was back when I was bullied as a kid or attacked as a man. Your generation is so much more woke and aware and accepting of racial, ethnic, sexual, and gender differences.

But if we are honest, we also know that we still have a way to go until Griffins who identify on the LGBTQ+ spectrum will feel safe to be their authentic selves. And have no doubt: there are young men in this school who are hurting because some of their “brothers” are calling them names or are using words or phrases that hurt them terribly. It could be your roommate. Your best friend. Your teammate. Your teacher. Whoever it is, what should be important to you is how you treat them and speak about them, not who they love or what their sexual identity is.

Please take my story to heart and join me and GSDA in ending sexual discrimination once and for all at CFS.

Be the dawn in a person’s life and help end their darkness.

Robert Warfel, M.Ed.

Dean of Residential Life/10th Grade Class Chair/Humanities Teacher

Mr. Warfel has been a dedicated member of Church Farm School for a decade, where he fulfills multiple roles including Dean of Residential Life, 10th grade class chair, and advisor for the GSDA club. He is an strong advocate for the LGBTQ+ community and plays a significant role in fostering inclusivity within our school. Known for his approachability, Mr. Warfel actively engages with students, encourages their initiatives, and coordinates enjoyable events such as the Cottage Cup and Pie-A-Teacher Day.

The Pride flag hangs proudly next to the BLM flag on the CFS campus.

PIZZA PLOTS

a writing workshop

At Pizza Plots, students indulged in a delectable blend of writing and dining. With pizza slices in one hand and computers in the other, they dove into the world of storytelling and poetry. From cheesy romances to thrilling mysteries, every bite fueled their creativity. Laughter and inspiration filled the room as they crafted tales amidst the aroma of freshly baked pies. The only thing better than the pizza was the stories it inspired!

Students received interesting prompts to choose from. This included prompts of the most bizarre headlines to occur on a newspaper to different types of poems.

Photo by Josh Morgan ‘27

Two Elderly Men

Sneak Out Of Nursing Home To Attend Heavy Metal Festival

By Dylan Lumumba ‘24

Nursing Home Wanna Roam

Very Old Youth Gold

Escape’s Dare Barely Aware

Freedom’s Hum Heavy Drum

Guitar Wail Freedom’s Trail

Rebel Roar Echoes Soar

Quick Thrill Elder’s Will

Heavy Boom Freedom’s Gloom

Roaming Bliss

Metal’s Kiss

Fleeting Night Sad Delight

Old Age Bold Stage

Sunset Sunrise

1. INVESTED

Aidan Brown ‘26 is fully immersed in his writing as he types away at his keyboard.

2. FOCUSED

Students are concentrated and filled with inspiration as they craft their tales.

3. FASCINATED

Lost in his narrative world, Oscar Lu ‘26 dives deep into his writing with unwaverving focus.

Photo by Ethan Mwangi ‘26

Russian Town Hires Cat Chief To Attend To Strays

By Jayden Nzekio ‘27

A Product of Pizza Plots

In the quiet town, Nizhny Novgorod, cats were becoming more and more aggressive. They would attack their owners for no reason, they would even attack each other. They were committing wild acts of violence. Owners started to become more and more terrified, so they sent their cats to the animal shelter. But even the animal shelter couldn’t contain these cats. Everytime they tried to feed them they would always end up with cuts and bruises on their hands from the cats. The cat’s violent behavior became so intolerable that the owner of all the animal shelters in Nizhny Novgorod called for a penitentiary for all cats. Each cat was stuck into separate cells with thick metal bars. It was going good for about 3 months. Until one day somebody snuck into the cat jail at night and released all the inmates. Somehow, the cats were not hurting him. Chaos unfolded. Cats ran amok through the streets of Nizhny Novgorod attacking any civilian or animal they saw. It was like they got worse after they got locked up. This issue was starting to get more and more out of hand. It was time for Russia’s government to take action. The president had known this moment would come. He had called the only person who could ever solve this issue.

THE CAT CHIEF.

The cat chief had been solving cat issues like this all around the world, but never something to this degree. Nonetheless, he could still handle the issue. As he arrives, he sees mayhem all around the town. The horde of cats start trying to rush him. He walks toward the cats and as he walks he looks at them MENACINGLY. The cats then come to a sudden halt. They want to run away, but his glare is not allowing them. He grabs all of the cats with his net and takes him into his truck. His act of heroism is broadcast all over the Russian news.

The same man who released all the cats sees this broadcast and is infuriated. He decides to go out and face THE CAT CHIEF. As THE CAT CHIEF is continuing to put all the cats in his truck he notices the man. “What are you doing here? Stop interfering with business.” THE CAT CHIEF says. “You have foiled my plans once again. OVER and OVER, everytime I try to rule the world with these cats, YOU always come to spoil it. You must be eliminated!” the man exclaims.

THE CAT CHIEF chuckles and tells him, “just give up and turn yourself in. You can’t defeat me.” The man yells in anger and looks at THE CAT CHIEF MENACINGLY. “I told you you can’t beat me!!” THE CAT CHIEF yells while looking at him even more MENACINGLY. The man falls to his knees in shock. THE CAT CHIEF walks up to him and puts him in cuffs. “It’s over now. Enjoy your time in prison for all your heinous crimes,” THE CAT CHIEF says as he puts the man into custody. He has saved the town of Nizhny Novgorod. THE END

What Remains of the Insane

By Amadu Jalloh ‘25

A Product of Pizza Plots

Tame but not plain

A meer crone wades through moon-swashed terrain

Raised dukes dazed as vacuous cattle grazed

Upon a body malleolus with grain

Awashed in malice’s reign

A boy not yet a man, but no longer a child

Clutches at his mane in a frenzy

For lunacy offers its dance to the brazen maiden

Dawning moccasins, she prances

Upon a floor aureate with sin

Flourishing with phantoms grins

She danced and drank her merry gin

Awashed the mad town is to be

Malevolence urged the people to the tree

Tame but not plain

Yggdrasil stood a mountain, caged by swallow plains

Malevolence bed to the people

“Scald the world’s auriel tree”

To steal its warmth

And don its ashes.

So ignite it the mad masses did

And they who held begotten hair and drank their merry gin

Left the insane’s despair, and shed hollow skin

To return as cinders to the dirt

They had once been.

Two Elderly Men Sneak Out Of Nursing Home To Attend Heavy Metal Festival

By Ethan Faison ’27

A Product of Pizza Plots

In a nursing home in Wisconsin were two elderly men named Jerry and Harold. Harold was always a big fan of heavy metal, especially Johnny Snickers, and while Jerry is not such a big fan, he supports his friend. “Come on! I need to go” Harold shouted. Nurse Kareen stood there annoyed by Harold’s begging. “For the last time, you can’t you can’t go to the concert,” Kareen said as she turned off the lights to the nursing home. “Go to sleep, you got a big day tomorrow,” Kareen said tiredly as she exited the room. Harold stood there frustrated with Kareen’s stubbornness. He sat down on his bed before Jerry walked into his room. “You want to get out of here?” said Jerry with a smug look. “How? Every time we tried we failed” Harold asked in a sad tone. “I got my grandson Emmett to sneak us out with this ladder he got.” Harold was ecstatic by this information and got up almost immediately.

“Where is it?” he said full of energy. “Over here,” Jerry said. The two climbed down the ladder and hopped inside Emmett’s car to head to the concert.

“Thank you so much,” Harold said with joy. “No problem,” Emmett said, it’s just I have a lot of errands to run, so you guys are going to have to wait a little once the concert is over.” “That’s fine we can wait a little,” said Harold. They arrived at the concert with only five minutes remaining until it started and they quickly bought their tickets. Harold waited there excitedly until the concert finally started and Johnny and his band started their music. Harold was, of course, enjoying the show but even Jerry found himself vibing to the music. The concert ended after 25 minutes, so the two elderly men walked outside and waited for Emmett to return. Unfortunately for them, they were spotted by one of the nursing home staff.

Harold and Jerry had to run, but because they were so old, they

couldn’t outrun the young nurses. They had to think of a plan. Jerry decided to run into the woods to try and lose them, but Harold couldn’t make it into the woods in time and got captured. One of the nurses in pursuit of the elderly men revealed themselves to be Nurse Kareen. “You have been doing this for too long now,” she said sternly “We are now kicking you out for all of your disturbances to the nursing home and the neighborhood.” Harold stands there in shock “W-what, what disturbances? How did you even know I was gone? I was gonna come right back!” Harold yapped trying to defend himself, but it was no use, he was done. “I noticed you weren’t in your room so I figured you went to the concert, guess I was right,” she said in her stern attitude. Harold was furious, “B- w- b-but I wasn’t causing any disturbance, this is ridiculous!”

Kareen ignored Harold’s complaints as she listened to her boss, Doctor Bursmy, “Kareen you go check who else is missing, the rest of us will continue to search for the other person running with Harold.” Jerry, hidden by the shrubbery from the woods, sees his friend getting kicked out and is devastated. He escapes back to the nursing home as soon as possible. Emmett gets his ladder and helps Jerry back up into the window. He rushes to his room before he gets spotted by Nurse Kareen, but it’s too late. “What are you doing up so late?” she asks. “I was just using the bathroom,” Jerry said. “Mmm hmm, go to your room,” Kareen said, suspicious of Jerry. She gave Jerry a dirty look before walking away and Jerry headed back to his room. He sat in his bed unable to sleep, his mind was wandering, searching for answers. “What’s happening to Harold now? Where will he live now? Am I going to lose this childhood friend?” All Jerry could do in a time like this was think. He can’t change anything, Just Think.

How to Be Happy

By Fayi Nshanji ‘24

Follow me and you will discover the key to my joy

Follow me and you will discover the key to my joy

Success is what keeps you at your best

When your hard work and dedication finally pay off, it shows

It brings you the utmost joy and everyone must know

When put in a challenging situation

You wrestle and turn

Unsatisfied with what this new journey will entail

A journey you cannot comprehend

To tell a story you will laugh about in the end

The path is dark, you walk down a naked tunnel with no signs or directions pointed to where you are heading

This is what it means to be the child of immigrants

The road you walk down is designated for you

You would think my siblings and I would have similar journeys but that is not the case

You are the only boy

You are the youngest child

You are responsible for carrying on your family’s legacy and name

You are supposed to be great in a way your 3 older sisters never could

And though you are nervous about failing

You are motivated and excited to see where the journey takes you

Follow me and you will discover the key to my joy

With the stress of your mother and the loud mouth of your father

Their nagging keeps you in check

You see a glimmer of light

Motivating you to do better each day

To keep them at peace, knowing their sacrifices are not in vain

But what keeps you at peace?

Your accolades

Your Acceptance

Your progress

You can acknowledge there is hope for yourself in this life

Follow me and you will discover the key to my joy

The vibrations of the floor are felt in Mexico

Your chair stumbles to the ground

Your voice cracks from the constant screaming

“Congratulations!”

You just found out you got into Brown University

It was harvest season

The fruits of your labor have finally revealed itself after four long years

A weight off your shoulders was lifted

Is this the feeling my parents had sacrificed so much for me to feel?

Follow me and you will discover the key to my joy

You call your sisters, mother, and father

The virtual smiles make you feel loved and appreciated

You are suddenly at peace

There is a light at the end of the tunnel

A glimmer of hope

A tunnel leading to a thousand other tunnels

An abundance of opportunities

Is this what success feels like?

And suddenly you are joyful

Follow me and you will discover the key to my joy.

Photo by Kordell Tate-Roberts ‘26

Photo by Caleb Crosby ‘24

Don’t SHOOT

Don’t Shoot!

“Don’t shoot!” I yelled when approached by a cop with a gun in hand

Scared for my life anticipating the upcoming crescendo

Like the snap from a broken rubber band

He has the upperhand

I’ll soon be on my way to the motherland

They’re supposed to serve and protect

But I’m suddenly a suspect

Because I have skin as dark as their souls

Swag as potent as their bad thoughts

Hair as divergent as their corruption

They think I’m a criminal

Because of the area I grew up in Their hatred has become subliminal

I don’t know what I did

I’m thinking of my sins

Panicking wondering if this might be the end

Then-

“Don’t shoot!” The officer said when he noticed someone with a hand on cam

In my head I’m sayin’ “man oh man”

“I’m about to be buried, 6 feet”

Like seashells in the sand

A lady is recording,

The officer is scared now

Because now there is footage of this sinister act

You would think since they’re heroes they would want to be

Displayed

Given a chance of fame

But it’s a shame

How when they’re approached with a black object

Connected to a circle frame with nothing but an abyss to look down

By Emmanuel Parsons ’26

Waiting for the click and flash

So time can be frozen for a split second until the moment is remembered forever

How are you expected to serve and protect but the only thing you’re serving

Is my soul to the Grim Reaper

And you’re only protecting your pride and ego from looking weaker

How could you be so eager?

To finally approach a kid with a gun in your hands

“Don’t shoot” Wasn’t only the last thing I said

But also the last thing I heard

From the officer who pulled the trigger on a kid

Not to mention it’s going viral as the “Cop killing vid”

Cops like these shouldn’t be hired

Because they act like this

And when they see someone like me

It’s like arson is all they see because they only want to fire

How am I supposed to trust this man with my safety

When every time he sees someone like me his gun is never on safety?

It’s starting to look very shady …

We are starting to think the police are glorified murderers

Who get away with any type of homicide

Because the government isn’t on our side

They shouldn’t hire people so corrupt…

Because then their feelings and thoughts tend to erupt

Because they look under the Earth’s rug to look for a spot

Where people like me are to be tucked.

GRIFFIN REVIEW

ROUNDTABLE DISCUSSION

A SINCERE CONVERSATION BETWEEN THE FRESHMEN AND SENIORS

How did you feel coming into CFS?

Semaj McGill: I was nervous because I’d never been to a school far from home. I want to sound like I was coming here with friends or something. But I think I’m meeting new people and I didn’t know how I was going to adapt to a new environment or new people. That’s it. Yeah.

Joshua Jennings: My experience at CFS was that I was very, very worried the day before I came here because I just didn’t know if I was gonna fit in or not. But when I got here, I felt a little bit of ease because a lot of people were in the same situation as me. And then I got to know people and that’s kind of like all. Can I ask a follow up question? How did you feel about the school being all boys?

Kayden Matthews: It wasn’t bad because I went to an all boys school before, so it wasn’t much of a transition. I didn’t really care. The way I explained it was that you get a better education that way, you’re not focused on girls. But at the same time, [I did feel] I was getting judged for it, it was like, “oh, you going to another old boys school?”

Caleb Wilson: When I first heard about this school, I thought it was boys and girls. [laughter] I didn’t know! But since it was like brotherhood and people of color ... there’s not many schools like that, so I didn’t really care [it was all boys].

Seniors, what was it like for you when you started CFS?

Rafael Arellano: I’m gonna be honest, Church Farm wasn’t my top choice; I was looking at the more “prestigious” schools, but it definitely did catch my attention [when I learned it was mostly]

Students Joshua Jennings ‘27 and Joshua Morgan ‘27 sit at the table.

people of color. Because growing up in the Bronx, I was already surrounded by a lot of people of color.

Freshmen, what do you hope to get out of CFS? Seniors, What have you gotten out of CFS?

Kayden: I feel like at Church Farm I just want to make some real strong connections with people that could probably last like a lifetime. I want to find myself at Church Farm; find out what I wanna do in the future.

Caleb: I would say friendship. It’s not really guaranteed..

Fayi: I’ve gotten some lifelong friendships and something else Church Farm has allowed me to build my maturity and see what I would want to do in the future. It’s given me experiences that I definitely wouldn’t have gotten at a public school. Like the HMI (High Mountain Institute) experience, just being able to do that, have a semester away, explore new activities like hiking and backpacking.

Rafael: I’ve become more outspoken, and learned to use my voice a lot more. I can do it without fear of any judgment.

Joshua Jennings: Something I hope to get out of CFS is maturity, being able to self-acknowledge and know that I’ve grown from freshman year and I also wanna be able to leave an impact on the school, do something good, make some change.

What advice would you give to the newest CFS students?

Rafael: A quote that really resonates is ‘the biggest waste of time is comparing

yourself to others.’ Whether it’s academic, on the field,or just like how you look, how you are as a person.

Joshua Morgan: The difference between want and need. Because sometimes you want to do something but you have to do something else so you have to make that choice.

Caleb: Just follow your heart in general. Focus on what you want to do.

What do you feel is the most underrated part of CFS?

Rafael: The meals. <laughter> I sat with the same people sophomore year during breakfast, lunch, and dinner and those are the same people I’m sitting with now. It shows how tight the brotherhood is but I think that’s one of the most unforeseen things. You still have great conversations with whoever you’re sitting with. It doesn’t matter who it is. And I think that’s one of the most personal parts of CFS; sharing a meal with someone.

Fayi: I feel like the faculty is one of the most underrated parts of CFS. Each one has taught me something new, showed me a new perspective and some of the faculty I feel like I could just comfortably have a conversation with them.

Dylan: For me it’s activity and involvement; the opportunities. In public school for example, half of us, if not everybody here, wouldn’t be able to make a sports team because of their numbers and how good they are. Here you can play any sport you want.

Kayden: Whether it’s just someone that you need to talk to or maybe it’s something that they do as you build your future; people help out. Whether it’s at Church Farm School, or outside Church Farm School.

If you’re a head of school for a day, what would you do?

All: MORE SLEEP.

Kayden: Give the kids a mental health day. One day to relax, because it can get a little stressful. Especially right now, at the end of the quarter, or during finals, you have a lot on your plate.

Rafael: I feel like everyone’s kind of going small like sleeping days or meals. But I’m using that money for buildings. I’m head of school, then I’m doing construction on a new building; a new gym, or a new pavilion, or an indoor pool. Something new, something grand, something big. Slap my name on the side: “Raf’s New Cool Building.”

PARTICIPANTS OF ROUNDTABLE DISCUSSION

From Left to Right: Rafael Arellano ‘24, Kordell Tate-Roberts ‘26, Joshua Jennings ‘27, Joshua Morgan ‘27, Fayi Nshanji ‘24, Dylan Lumumba ‘24, Kayden Matthews ‘27, Semaj McGill ‘27, Caleb Wilson ‘27 3

A GRIFFIN ARTIST

INTERVIEW BY KORDELL TATE-ROBERTS AND SAVION WEAVERDIAZ

THOMAS KNEZEVICH ‘18

Church Farm School Alumni, Cottage Parent

Thomas Knezevich ’18 joined the community as a cottage faculty member mid-year, and immediately dove right into enhancing the Griffin experience using his unique insights and experiences. An accomplished artist who works in a variety of mediums, Thomas worked with CFS’ Arts Chair, Dina Schmidt, to put on the school’s first-ever solo art show in the Buck Center for the Arts, which ran in March and April and featured receptions for both scholars and adults.

What was the inspiration for your art show?

It was to show my progress as an artist. I incorporated works from when I was a student here at CFS to my evolution when I was going into college for ceramics and then as I transitioned into metal working there. I really began to do blacksmithing during Covid-19 and I brought that into my college career and incorporated it into my major.

How does it feel to host the very first CFS solo art exhibition?

Honestly, I was thrilled when they gave me the opportunity and I didn’t know it was the first solo art show here, but I was really trying to put my best foot forward so that way the students could see what I do. They know I’m an artist but they don’t know what length I’ve gone into art and how deep I’ve

gone with working with very different mediums.

What’s your experience in working as a blacksmith?

My experience first started during the Covid pandemic. I thought being around a 3000-degree forge would be a safe way of avoiding Covid. Then I felt a deep passion for it because blacksmithing is really the opposite of ceramics with the process of working with the materials. With forging, you would need to use fire to make the metal malleable and use water to quench it and harden it. With ceramics, you would use water to make the clay pliable and then use fire to harden it. It’s the opposite for the way it works.

What was your favorite art piece in the show?

I have to say it is the small bull sculpture. It was one of my earliest sculptures and it allowed me to focus on the structure and anatomy of the animals because I was studying them by going to living history farms and doing sketches. It was the most freeing because you take a piece of metal, put it next to the frame and see if it works. If it does, you weld it on. If not, you find a new piece. It was just picking out pieces and trying to put together a puzzle. Once that puzzle is completed, you get a step further to make it a dynamic piece.

1. CAREFUL EXAMINATION

Students Victor Lu and Fayi Nshanji admire the unique metalwork of Knezevich’18.

2. METAL HORSE

Thomas’ statement peice, this metal horse stands proudly in the middle of the showcase.

3. ADMIRING THE SUMMIT

A student admires Thomas’ painting of the mountain during his art showcase.

1. Angel Martinez

Class of 2027

2. Rafael Arellano

Class of 2024

Our Griffin Review hosted a contest called the New Dawn Contest, with a theme of sunrise and new beginning. Contestants were asked to take photos of the beautiful sunrises or sunsets they saw at Church Farm School. Whether in snow or in broad sunrise, they captivated the eyes of our Griffin Review editing team. Thanks for all who participated!

3. Mr. Warfel

Dean of Residential Life

/’ sən.rīz/

the beginning of a new day a chance for happiness and improvement

A symbol of birth and rebirth, of awakening. The coming of light, resurrection.

Back Cover Image by Rafael Arellano ‘24