Spider Web 2016
Spider Web, as a spider’s web, is about creativity. Creativity is less about limitless possibility and more about the constraints we choose. It is less about standing at the center of Edwin Abbott’s Flatland and choosing one of 360 possible directions and more about whether the path you select is a journey through a yellow wood, a Blue Route, or a slate walk. My father was a scientist who said that if he had a choice between conducting an experiment that seemed more likely to succeed but less fun in the doing of it and an experiment that seemed less likely to succeed but more fun—he would always choose the latter. Science, he told me, is 99% about failure, the value of identifying blind alleys, only rarely about being the one to reach the summit, and always about standing on the shoulders of giants, the scientists who came before and established which way not to go. Whether a blank page, the sort of person you decide to be, or what you will do with your life choose your challenges with care. Creativity is about building and process, framework and what you hang on the frame, learning from your mistakes and pursuing what is joyful to you. Thank you for thinking. Thank you for contributing to this year’s Spider Web. Thank you for your curiosity and the grit you bring to asking questions and formulating answers. Teacher Michael Head of School
I am from menorahs in the window I am from my brother curled up in the window I am from sparrows chirping I am from latkes frying I am from gingerbread baking I am from “mreaw row rooot rumarow” by Leo I am from the grass and flowers on the ground I am from the sounds of bird songs outside I am from the smell of the food that my dad cooks I am from the jelly donuts on Hanukkah I am from the phrase “Amen” at the end of prayers I say I am from blowing candles out on my cake for my birthday by Michael
I am from my room curtains I am from the leaves crunching under my feet I am from my friend’s mom cooking lasagna I am from pizza, cookies, and cake on my birthday I am from “what's for breakfast, mom?” and my mom saying, “goodnight.” by Tonya I am from a big glass window looking out on the bright green mountains I am from dogs scratching on the hardwood floor I am from the warm smell of tomato soup I am from waking up to pancakes every morning I am from… “JAY, wash your hands and face”! by Jay
I am from dogs running around my house and outside I am from dogs barking I am from my mom cooking dinner I am from eating pasta and meatballs a lot I am from the sayings, “You get what you get and you don’t get upset,” and “goodnight” I am from seeing my aunt Patty I am from my mom, dad, and brother by Maggie I am from dogs barking at the cat I am from dogs playing with a squeaky toy I am from mom’s cupcakes and cookies filling the house I am from the birthday kid gets to pick dinner I am from my great great grandfather by Thatcher
I am from dog hair on the couch and art work on the walls I am from my mom and dad's secret conversations I am from my dad's delicious bacon and my mom's notsogood homemade soup I am from family meals on weekends I am from dad saying, “sweet dreams” at night by Kelly I am from dog hair on the couch I am from dogs next door I am from bacon in the morning and popcorn at night I am from being a cook I am from my sister saying, “night, night” by Ruifang
I am from my white front door I am from guitar music I am from food being cooked in the kitchen I am from Thanksgiving turkey on a good day I am from “What’s for dinner?” I am from my fourth birthday raising art supplies for Costa Rica by Duncan I am from lots of books in different categories I am from the smell of broccoli I am from long life noodles on birthdays I am from “What's for dinner?” I am from the help of my mom pushing me on the piano by Torsten
I am from the cheesesteaks at the poppy store I am from kids playing on the playground I am from my family cooking cheeseburgers I am from Wendy's after every school day I am from hearing “dagnabit” and “come down stairs” I am from going to mom mom’s and grandma's house after every school day by Zach I am from cats meowing in my backyard I am from words on the wall in my house I am from the smells of money in my house and our cats I am from a place with people of any religion by Sami
I am from sisters playing I am from dogs barking I am from my brother’s toy fire truck siren I am from smelling fresh salmon and fresh baked cookies I am from pizza and a movie every Friday night I am from Grace saying, “Amanda did this” and Amanda saying, “Grace did this” by Reilly
Coal Mining, the Good and Bad Times Aidan Rupp Boom Boom Boom A miner hitting a piece of coal My hands cut and bloody Sharp coal scratching at my hands Breaker boys from Ireland, from Australia, from America They drop coal on my head Sitting on the edge of a coal car hurts my back I hit my head on the top of the mine Bam Bam Bam Bad dust in the air, rotting my brain Smoke through the window making me cough The taste of coal dust in my mouth Close walls, moving in on me Feeling like I could get crushed Really cold I can not breathe or see In a big black hole Coal cart doors, wooden and dirty I want to turn this coal cart around And go home I hate going to the mine On strike I felt so happy As happy as a kid who found a candy stash At home, Eating beans and rice to fill my stomach
Taking a nap after being tired in the mine Getting to lay down on my string bed Washing off Getting the bad dust off me I get to use the outhouse at home In the mine my boss would not let me go to the bathroom Playing ball and getting my mind off mining Running around and playing fun games That is a life of a coal miner The good times and bad times
Life in the Mine AJ Baker Pitch black with a small lamp to see Mines filled with slime And red on the walls I got a blue tattoo That's when a piece of coal is jammed into a part of your body Left a blue mark on me Not enough money to provide for my family Strikes People that wanted to work were shamed SCAB!!! Throwing rocks and trash At those who wanted to work Some people died The taste of tobacco made me sick Kids drinking and smoking, making them feel older Different laws Feeling scared So dark you couldn't see Rats and bugs Loud sound of coal We were slaves to the mine Small area to make a garden Twin house with four rooms House owned by coal company Got food out of the garden Put ‘em in a bucket Cook ‘em on the stove Put all the carrots and potatoes in the pot The food made me feel like a small hot fire in the middle of Antarctica
Went to school came back two hours later Helped mamma with her garden Made food Playing kick the can and tag Eating lunch after a long hot weekend of play Full moon dark and cold night Mamma read me a story Fell asleep Finally at home Relaxing
Poem of Coal Alex Duggan Watching drivers go past when I was a trapper Watching my fellow miners dig-tossing the coal in the dim-lit mine The smell of the coal dust and gas in the mine Listening to the breaker boss yell at the breaker boys The sound of my pick repeatedly picking at the coal filled wall The sounds of the other miners singing their songs The taste of a bite of the food I packed for the day The sting of the coal dust that slipped through my teeth Getting hit by the breaker boss Feeling cold from the mine Touching the hard wall of the mine Remembering the family members who have lost their lives in the mine The memory of the time when I wasn’t a miner Looking at the new garden that just got planted Seeing people rushing around the small house Looking at the light bulb hanging on the twine Looking at the glistening stars that come out after my shower Observing the houses in their rows next to the company store The terrible smell of the outhouse after it’s been used! The smell of the smoke coming from my rusty oven The smell of the tobacco leaves wrapped around the smoke The aroma of the flowers away from the mine The sound of the crabby schoolteacher telling my kids to “KEEP WORKING!” Listening to the sounds of my kids playing in the small half-yard
The taste of newly grown crops right out of the new garden behind the house. The first bite of breakfast that was so good, it energized me The tastes of beer and wine The taste of bread that just got cooked The taste of recently-scrambled eggs The taste of the fresh coffee waiting there every day for me before work The feeling you get when you’re playing baseball when you are at bat, 2 outs, 2 strikes, bases loaded, 9th inning, your team is losing by three runs and facing the best team in the finals Remembering the warm, lightweight, thick, fluffy, feather pillows that I slept on a long time ago The great time I had when I was little The springtime when the flowers were blooming, and the crops were growing The memories of playing KTC (kick the can), stilts, riding wagons, caddy, skating with regular shoes, hopscotch, and sledding Remembering the “haunted house away from the hill” that the Cwhantlahkirrin (klant-la-curr-in) family lived in This is my life as a miner
Eggs with Butter and Cheese Allison Foley The scrape of shovels on the mine floor The plink of water in the mine The screech of coal carts running along the tracks The pitter patter of mice and rats scurrying through the mine The neighing of mules in the mine The ear-piercing screech of the whistle at the start of the workday The disgusting taste of coal dust that snuck into my mouth The chilly winter wind blowing through unplastered walls The pain when I dropped a lump of coal on my foot The polluted air that would never be fresh again The dirty, dusty, earthy scent of coal The endless coal cart tracks The too high price on necessary things at the company store The looming, taunting shadow of the breaker The cry of a newborn baby in the crisp early morning The chatter of the people at the well The whistle of the wind through the hole in the roof The splash of the water as I pulled it from the well The velvet curtains in the shiny glass windows of the mine boss’s mansion The hole in the roof in my house The floating soot in the air The thin girls playing outside The narrow row of flowers on the edge of my garden The delicious, melt-in-your-mouth taste of eggs with butter and cheese The wild berries I gathered in summer for food The deliciousness of the rare, sugary dessert The warm scent of baking bread
The scent of an apple pie in the oven The soil under my knees in the garden The small warmth of the tiny kitchen stove The joy of holidays that made everyone forget troubles for a while The joy of a successful crop The excitement at the rare baseball game The hope of victory during a strike I am from coal mining, from a coal patch town, from eggs with butter and cheese.
The Dislikeable Coal Mine Caroline Neuhaus I see pitch black coal everywhere Little light on the hat Little to see, like it's a dark world Machines as big as horses or bigger I smell the air that is bad for you Smell the dead rats All the cold air blowing in through the cracks I taste the dirty air in the mine I taste the raindrops from the top of the ceiling to the ground I taste the blood from all of the cuts from the cold I hear the mules hoofs going clip, clop, clip, clop The sound of the mules walking all day I can hear the men yelling in pain Getting beaten up I hear myself screaming at the boss I hear the rats scurrying I am using a pickaxe, oh boy, it is loud I can hear coal rustling down like a million bugs buzzing I can remember the day I got blind I can remember walking five hours to get to work I remember getting black lung How many mules there were Some people died if the mules were really stubborn as the coal miners on strike Somewhere on strike it was hard I remember all of the coal miners all of the boys working It was like a billion bees working in a beehive The feeling in the coal mine some men don't want to share I feel pushed for not hurrying up I feel scared when an explosion goes off
I can remember picking coal with a shovel it was as hard as trying to learn something in school I feel icky after work when I come home home from work With coal dust all over my face I smell the bread at home After a long day’s work the house is cold In school while we are working the smoke choking me I was speaking Italian and everyone was making fun of me It was like everyone was against me “Tsk, tsk, tsk,” my wife would say when I got home, “You poor men” Go to work, come home for chores Coming home, my sons say “I want to be like you, dad Work in the coal mine” “Oh no, you don't,” I say I have a dislike of the coal mine The Fun Times Friends playing kick the can Walk on stilts on stilts Wander in the woods, collecting chestnuts In summer me and my friends take old rags And clothes And make bathing suits And swim in the waves in the creek I just fall back and relax like nothing is happening Just silent In the winter we go sledding We go down so fast it seems as though you are flying Some people have a little spot to put a garden Some people have a house With four rooms you are lucky Soft pillows with feathers The smell of the bread lifting my spirits
After a long day’s work hot bread is just the thing Every single morning wake up I don't even need to look I know it's coffee because of the strong delicious smell Making fudge It is like a milky way I can always look forward to home.
The Black Lung Daniel O’Connell In the mine the sight of a wide path with men and boys on each side with pickaxes in hand, they lift the pickaxes up and then swing, up swing, up swing, over and over again until days end The sound of the mule’s horseshoes on the mine floor clip clop, clip clop, all day long The smell of iron from the dripping blood from the callused hand of child holding a splintered pickaxe handle The feeling of the fast moving coal stabbing your hands like little daggers, your hand start to bleed you use your hat instead of your hands to pick out the bad coal The bitter taste of coal dust, the texture chalky and awful almost to the point where you are going to throw-up The memory of a human body flying through the air from an explosion and then figuring out it was my son Happiness At home, the smell of a potato from the bonfire, I can still feel the warmth in my hands, it smells like a sweet mist on the mountain range on a gloomy morning The feeling of warmness rushing through your veins when mama gives you a hug, whenever you have a bad dream mama gives you a hug and when you fall and scrape your knee mama gives you a hug The sound of children playing in the bedroom with their new wooden dolls and the wooden doll house that they got that day, they played for hours and then fell asleep in their rope bed with a huge pillow case on it, filled with the best feathers we could find
The memory of picking apples with the whole family and the goat, the goat would pick the apples of the tree and then take a bite then drop it in my basket and we all laughed The taste of the newly made pampuski straight off the grill, the powdered sugar sinking into your tastebuds, a sweet sensation runs through my stomach, “Mm mmm mm,� I hummed
Hard Times in the Coal Patch Ella Neuhaus I can taste the horrible taste in the air Taste the chalky coal coming from the rafters Into my damaged and sore and sick hurting lungs I can taste the tears coming from the little boys from the mine One of the boys is me I can taste the sickening germs in the schoolhouse And in the coal mine I remember people getting hurt in the mine And in the school from fights Of the picking the coal out of the rafters And into the chute And into my scared hurting hands I can remember in the mines and in school I can see some people crying for their parents And crying for their kids too And from people hurting in their own homes Some people are treating the kids badly for talking out of turn At Home At home Mam [my mom] is making hot gingerbread for dinner Helping Mam with dinner for special people Girls washing the clothing Helping with sewing We would take a warm bath and then Get in a warm bed We loved when Papa came home He was all covered in coal dust We had to find his body under his sooty clothing While trying to find his scarred Hurting Bleeding Working hands After my chores
My brother and sisters come out to play with me I lose every day but have fun anyway Home is brighter than the mine In the morning sun pouring in the window We would rush down before school and eat mama’s famous bread In the morning For breakfast
Coal Mining Jack Ryan Smell from a tavern nearby Smell of gas Smoke from a cigarette tastes bitter Odor of smoke from nearby ovens, sulphur Pitch black coal dust Trains rolling by Coal miner’s smoke tobacco Food from a lunch bucket Water dripping from the mine walls Rats squeaking Teacher’s voice talking Children’s voices in Slovak, English Feelings of stress from hard work Dirty, tired Memories of being hit by the coal boss Me at Home We would play kick the can Walk on stilts Ride on homemade wagons In the summer sun Went sledding in the winter Just cooked bread, really good Delicious scrambled eggs Yummy pastry, pampuski Really hot bread dough, sprinkled with sugar, eaten with coffee Fresh veggies A tiny area to make a garden
Food that we can eat together as a family So that is the life of coal mining!
The Mine James Langham The rushing of coal over the picker boss’s voice Tobacco on the back of your gums Coal dust drying your mouth Cheap coal mines Not giving you enough money to survive, And hard breathing at the end of your days No compensation Eyes strained all day at a flowing river of pitch black coal only a bubble of light from your lamp casting only enough Smelling mules and oil every day down in the mine Smelling the coke ovens that had a worse smell even than the stables Early mornings trapped in a cold, dark mine, With long days and long nights, not getting to be a kid At Home Saving your bacon grease to mix it with lye Freezing in your house Bringing coal and wood into the house Sitting on a grate filling you with warmth Heating your insides and your outsides Sinking into hot water soothing and relaxing The dazzling fire dancing before your eyes A ring of black around a young miner’s eyes Washing clothes for all your siblings And parents And boarders
Seeing your first books at school Everyone liked baseball every time we could play we played There were plenty of children to play plenty of games with A garden in the spring sounds like fresh veggies cooking on the stove Jumping on the cabbage made me feel like I could fly! Going up and down, up and down! Flying down the hill at a billion miles per hour on the bobsled my dad made me Diving for treasure in the cool creeks and rolling rivers Free at last from the deep dark depths of the mine.
Coal Mine Days Princess Evans As a child, I played kick the can with Maggie and Sebs The boys would go into the woods and come out at dawn The girls would play hopscotch and jump rope Also sometimes they made sandwich For the boys and take them to the woods The gals would plant flowers and veggies Jumping on the cabbage was fun The pompuski being fried in the kitchen was the best Coffee being made in kettle Now a grownup, I can hear my husband getting up in the morning to go the the mine Shaking me to wake up and Make his lunch pail Leaving every day at 6 am Coming home at 9 pm His only day off is Sunday I hated it when he talked about the men in the mine He would say they were rude and nasty People sweeping porches People washing clothes People working in the company store Men and boys going to the mine People dumping chamber pots out the window Also delivering newspapers Horrible smelling outhouse Dumping chamber pots not a thing you will like Basically a hole in the ground and a piece of wood It was bad in winter
Frozen wood And you would have trudge through the snow The door barely closed Staying home, a place I didn’t want to be Seeing my children made me feel guilty The hospital not a place I like to be Seeing my husband on a breathing machine I’m very thankful he survived I remember having to wash 2 black coal faced boys every night Staying home was really annoying I remember the first day my son was going to the mine For the first time He wore a brown shirt and black patched up pants Barely fitting clothes Always cold, not keeping me warm enough Coal dust still on my clothes, Never washed Never really dry A ton of patches Coal mine days
THE DARK MINE Sophia Rothe I am from: The coal sticking out in the coal mine The rats scurrying around, the mules driving the carts The breaker boss hovering over my shoulder as I work The dust covered boys coming out off the mine I am from: The smell of coal dust in the air The gas from the explosions The smoke from the cigarettes that the miners are smoking I am from: The loud boom from the explosions The coal from the roof crashing down the coal mine The boss yelling at me for not working quick enough The sound of crying because my child got hurt in the mine I am from: The taste of coal dust in my mouth as I work in the coal mine The bitter taste of the coffee that I drink in the coal mine I am from: Going on a strike and having no money The pain from getting hit by the boss The boys that hit me and teased me at work I am from: The cold drops of water that fall on my head Feeling dirty from the dust on my face from the coal Feeling free because there was a strike and I do not need to work anymore
I am from: Feeling so hungry when I get home Feeling tired after work and just getting to flop down on my bed The warm feeling of being in my bed My pillow made of feathers My bed with fluffy blankets I am from: The small schoolhouse that is full with kids Not getting to finish school cause my family needed help at the house Going to bed late and getting up early I am from: The clothes out on the line, the blanket of snow covering my garden The vegetables slowly creeping up out of the garden I am from: The salty taste from the vegetables in my garden The little food that I get at dinner The taste of the homemade bread that my mom made The smell of my mom’s homemade applesauce The smell of soap from my bath when I get home The smell of breakfast in the morning as I wake up The smell of all the food in the company store I am from: The warmth of the fireplace at home after being out in the cold The taste of the delicious food that we got for dinner The feeling of needing to back at home as a family again
Rope by Daniella Standridge “We can do it, why can't you?” They said, as they went skipping rope As their partners were looping The rope. Why couldn't I jump rope? That was in 2nd grade. I finally figured it out.
Grass
Tall grass, getting trampled, bounces up again. -
Lindsay McVail
Recipe for Love
Take a pinch of warm hugs, And drop them in a bowl. Along with some laughter, And memories of warm summer nights. Mix them together with some happiness, Until you feel all warm inside. Bake it at 90 degrees, You will know when it’s done, It will taste like the things that you desire the most. -
Lindsay McVail
A Recipe for Curiosity by Oliver Browning Take 1 cup of desire Add 1 pint of will Blend within your heart Until a bond is formed between them Toss in Ÿ pound of peace And 1 quart of hope Heat to your limits Within your soul Until you feel it Within your conscious mind You can tell it’s complete When you feel a surge of confidence Taste your horizons being opened.
The Dark Sky by Eric Moody
The dark sky, where the moon floats wide awake, Beaming its light across the the city, And above the big, round moon, so high in the sky, the stars glisten in the night, And the moon sits there waiting for the sun to take the next shift.
A Recipe For Winning By Amina Rouine Take a pinch of competition. Then add a cup of confidence. Let them sit for an hour. Throw in some sportsmanship. Then blend for five minutes until it starts to bubble. Add a drop of speed and skill. Then bake for thirty minutes. Now dig in, and taste the sweet victory!
A Green Gentleman by Wyatt Strawbridge Green scales, gnashing teeth, two large horns, giant wings. On the underside, he’s quite calm and vulnerable. Most of his day is spent sitting in a cave. He guards a fortune made up of all sorts of things. Trampling through the underbrush. On a swampy forest floor, sometimes flying. A green dragon.
A Recipe for Happiness by Megan Gilchrist First you take a cup of sunshine. Then add a tablespoon of friendship and stir with a whisk until you see it start to form. Throw in a rainbow and on top put some rainbow sprinkles to jazz it up. Bake at 500 degrees until golden brown. You can tell it’s done when it gives a special, happy glow. Why do Sundaes Taste so Good? by Megan Gilchrist Why do sundaes taste so good? Is it because of the warm gooey fudge brownie? Or is it the different creamy luscious flavors of ice cream like vanilla, chocolate, or strawberry? Or maybe, just maybe, it’s the pretty red cherry on the tippy top of the whipped cream that’s the best? Or maybe all the elements taste good as one.
Win or Lose by Jacie Thomas If you lose, you still win You are champion about to bloom, like me but in a way nothing like me, Because I’m not a champion, you are, I fail at a lot of things and you do, too, No one's perfect, no one can be good at everything , You may be good at art and I'm not, but that doesn’t mean I’m not good at anything else, Everybody is good at something. What is Magic? by Jacie Thomas Magic is something mysterious that could happen at any time, I don’t even know if magic is real, is life even real? Maybe everything happening now is a dream and you wake up and you notice you are even younger than you were in your dream. What if everything in your dream came true? What would happen? Would the world end? Who knows? And no one will ever know ... that's why life is mysterious. Maybe life is magic.
A Recipe for an Older Brother By ​ Anwar Alcide and Saifeddine Mestour Take a cup of fighting, Add ž of a bag of annoyance to a bowl. Then blend with a touch of love, Until it takes the form of a young boy. Drop it in the oven at 50 degrees Fahrenheit, Until the boy turns light brown. You can tell when it's done, Because you will get a small chilly feeling, The taste of a sweet and sour gummy bear reminds me of my brother, always up and down.
Recipe for my Mother By Saifeddine Mestour F irst add in some love T hen get a big heart. M ix all of them in a big bowl. P ut in some happiness. A nd some forgiving. P ut all this ingredients together to get the best mother in the world.
Christmas Poem When you wake up on Christmas day, excited to run down stairs, But then you think about people who don't get presents or Even celebrate it then you start to take Christmas for granted wanting to change that , Thinking of ways to change it then it comes to you that it can start with you being the change. -Tremayne
Recipe for a Middle School Student Take a cup of knowledge, a pint of curiosity, and a pinch of immaturity and mix together in a bowl. DO NOT OVERMIX WHATSOEVER!!!!! Chop up a stalk of social media into bite-sized pieces. Add social media, knowledge, curiosity, and immaturity into a teenager-shaped mold. o ​ Bake in oven at 350​ for about an hour.
Let it sit, cool, and calm down for about ten minutes. Serves 1 middle school
-Bob Helverson
A Recipe for Laughter Take a pinch of glitter, Add a cup of gleaming eyes and happy hearts in a bowl, Stir with a long wooden spoon until it glows, Pour shining smiles and bliss right into the mix, Bake at 450 fahrenheit until you hear the noise, You can tell it’s done when your oven roars and roars, Taste the wonderful joy and soon you’ll be laughing, too!
-Ella Rothe
The Summer Morning As I stare into the East, I see a ball of fire heading for the sky, It slowly makes its way up the ladder. The trail it leaves behind is quite a sight, The crisp air is now hugging me with all its warmth, Soon the wind will brush through my hair like an eagle. I leap in the air and clap my hands, But then a frown appears on my face. I groan and inch towards the house. The show is all over, But I know it’s only for now, I’ll come back tomorrow, After all the show must go on.
-Ella Rothe
Recipe for a Rainy Day
Take a half cup of fluffy clouds and 2 cups of crisp water in a bowl Mix with a large spoon until clouds become heavy from the water and turn gray Bake at 400 degrees fahrenheit until you see electricity crackling out of the clouds You can tell it’s done when you hear rain pouring down, and you hear the boom of the thunder, and you see the lightning sparks come out of the cloud Don’t taste the lightning, but rain water should have a salty taste, like tears. By: Madison Gilchrist
A Ferris Wheel called … LIFE Life. That four lettered word is a ferris wheel that is continuously in motion. It starts out at the bottom, when you are small and innocent Then, BAM! Before you know it, you’re at the top, the years you will treasure the most: the years that you are young and free. Finally, you slowly descend to the bottom, getting older and wiser. On this ferris wheel called life, there are a lot of ups and downs, but what makes them memorable is what you put into those moments. By: Madison Gilchrist
A Recipe for a Summer Day by Sophie O’Beirne Take a pinch of sunlight With a dash of heat add a sprinkle of water a smile then beat Blend in a laughter that fills the air drop in a little fun and cook at 90 degrees You can tell it is done, when it's properly brown It will taste like a marshmallow It’ll melt on your tongue It will fill you with joy, laughter and fun.
Spiders are Scary by Sophie O’Beirne Spiders are scary They’re black and their hairy They’re big and they’re little They’re creepy and sneaky They’re faster than anything That small ought to be They creep into your bed And bite And they nip So you’d better be wary ‘cause spiders are scary
Recipe for spring by Zoe Clingman Take a cup of pink petals Add a bright blue sky Stir with a warm breeze Until rain drops appear Drop in a bucket of sunshine Cook at 75 degrees until you sneeze You can tell it is done when you smell the fresh cut green grass
I Will Not Let You Defeat Me By: London Starr Fate was right behind me Grasping at me, trying to grab me, but every time he failed Every time he tried, he got closer and closer But as I ran, I got faster and faster He seemed to get slower as the the chase continued But I was just too fast I was dodging the projectiles of death that he shot at me But every time, he missed
I WILL NOT LET YOU DEFEAT ME He started to get really close Until I turned around and faced him in the eye He stopped and looked at me Backing away as if he was then scared of me That moment felt great I felt a great surge of power Swimming through my veins I started glowing, growing bigger, floating…
I WILL WIN THE BATTLE THIS TIME I shot fate with a bolt of hope He disintegrated in the air Leaving this world with a screech The world felt lighter The people more free Filled with happiness
THE BATTLE HAS BEEN WON !
A Recipe For Success By Julia Beyer Take a pinch of willingness Put passion and determination in a blender Pour in grit, confidence, and flexibility Cook at 360 degrees until bubbling with eagerness You can tell it’s done when you are proud of it Taste? The sweet taste of victory and success Piano By Julia Beyer Fluttering sound, finally right Joy Dancing fingers, love Twirling melodies Winding notes Happiness NO first it’s Anger swirling, tears and passion Burning feelings like bee stings Boiling thoughts Pounding heart Screams break the quiet night Shattered silence breaths In Out In Out then, after a long time of perseverance and fight Fluttering sound, finally right Joy Dancing fingers, love Twirling melodies Winding notes Happiness All the things that made it worth the fight
A Recipe For Joy By: Christian Fickenscher Take a pinch of prayers and some good faith, too. Make sure it tastes right just for you. Throw in a cup of love just for fun. Mix with family and friends because you wouldn’t want none. This will help the cake really transform, Then sprinkle chocolate chips to make it conform. Bake at 350 degrees so we can eat this very so special semisweet treat. When you’re done feel free to repeat, this will be sure to make your life... COMPLETE! Fight By: Christian Fickenscher Cancer is tough we all know, we hope some day it will just go. My mom had this and it was full of sadness and our family went through a time of madness. What matters most is how you fight, while keeping others in the light. We are happy she’s here now and for that, I give her a bow.
How to Make Friendship By Jylil Collozo
Take a pinch of togetherness. Add a cup of caring. Stir with whisk until you know the time is right. Pour in some love. Cook in oven at 500 degrees until the end of time. You can tell it's done when you see a nice warm smile.
Traveling Mysteries
In such a huge world So many places to go With the help of friends Hey, you never know Within lands of mysteries Lie many fearful things You can’t magically run away With some magic wings You never know what lies ahead Whether you’re alone or not And there will be a little darkness Do not let yourself get caught By Basim Farooqi
Just before the stage Before the spotlight hits me While holding my breath I close my eyes and I count slowly 1,2,3 The crowd silences I hear the applause And it slowly quiets down And I keep breathing I take deep breath And slowly begin walking My feet hit the stage. by Madeline Lippa
Hope
by Mohammed Ibrahim
When the situation isn’t right, When you are shocked with fright, When you can see nothing but the darkness of night, Search for HOPE, for it is the light. When you are not strong, When everything goes wrong, When you are on the path that is long, Stay on the path, keep going along → If you keep going, Even if you get stuck in gorilla glue, Stay on the path, nothing can stop you. And when you get the chance to see how far you’ve come Through red and blue, Turn around And look at the view.
F reedom for all people R ising up to take a stand E verybody’s life matters E verybody should fight for the cause D reaming of a place where everyone is equal O btaining rights to sit wherever, eat wherever, drink wherever M artin Luther King, Jr. spoke for our rights. F or all people of color to take a stand I n everyone’s heart, there is a glimpse of light G rowing and growing H iding no more T ogether we can make this happen. by Diego McLendon
Y oung people need to realize something O ut in this world, is your destiny U nderstand all of your different possibilities N ever give up on doing what’s right G o far in life and do the right thing
P erseverance E ncourage yourself and others to do great things O vercome any of your fears P eople expect you to do great in the future L eave your bad past behind E ducation is key
by Imirah Jackson
The concept of F ear is always there. Everyone keeps its trace.
It’s important, E veryone deserves the right to feel safe
What’s the big fight,
The same equal R ights ?
The G overnment thinks that it wasn't bad enough that people were killed.
U nderestimating something, yeah right. So now Sh ooting people doesn't matter? Skin C OL OR, is that really worth any more disasters ? N o one is less than another person because of it.
B e kind and respectful to everyone, even if they don't fit. L ove is the way to fix a broken heart, M ending it together when it’s rough. Black lives Matter, come join us. by Ada Skilton-Sylvester
S hame that people face T he lies that build and build into social problems E veryone that has suffered the stereotypes R andom acts of hate E veryone that has changed to fit in O pinion has grown into stereotypes T he life we live in Y oung people that are affected and influenced P eople that think stereotypes are a joke E very person has their own stereotype
L ive against the hate I gnore the things that people are saying F ind a way to block it out E veryone has faced a stereotype Micah, 2016
Just Dream Big!
J ust because you’re U nable to do something S hould not mean you can’t do it T ry D on’t give up and R emember to dream big, it may not be E asy, but work hard for your goals A nd M ake your friends and family proud! B e a shining star I nstead of a fading star G et friends and family to help you achieve your dreams and goals by Kevin Chea
Arnold Spirit *
A rnold from the R ez N ever quits, and dreams O f never L osing his D reams
S oaring high, P ersevering, I ntelligent, R ejecting stereotypes, I ndependent, T riumphant! By Corey Collins
* the main character of The Absolutely True Diary of a Part Time Indian by Sherman Alexie
Equality Quiet Understanding other religions All together, hand and hand Love each other for the way they are Integration Treat others the way you want to be treated Young Fair to all people Oath Rare All people are equal Love Live by Jamie Cotterell
The looks burn your skin like fire. Why are you treated differently because you don’t look, act, walk or talk the same? When you were little, you were told that your differences make you special, and don’t forget that! Everyone makes these assumptions about you. What do you do!? I got two words and five steps: Just
1.R esist the looks. I know you 2.E xcel in proving your doubters wrong, so just 3.B reak free and be yourself, not their stereotype. 4.E ven though they’ll be here when you wake up, just 5.L ive life like those people don’t exist. ● Don’t live up to your stereotypes. Sherman Alexie By Ben Rothe
E arning the respect of others if you’re foreign is difficult X enophobia leads to bad expectations P erpetuating those stereotypes should be a sin E voking anger from others is a consequence of keeping true to those stereotypes C ommunicate with your friends and family to sign petitions to stop the worst expectations of people
T hinking long and hard about what those social conventions really signify will help A sk and be answered if you are blind towards the subject T alk to the people who are the victims of those prejudiced ideas I nsist on not using those stereotypes in “jokes” O ffending people is when you need to apologize N ever lose the respect you have of other people S tay strong if you are the subject of a mean stereotype by Imran Loudini
R acism A frican American C ivil Rights I njustice S tereotypes M arch on Washington J ustice U nquestionable S ympathy Together I ndependence C ommunity E quality By Eve SkiltonSylvester
J udgment U ncalled for D irectly mean G aining popularity M ean E stablishing a negative relationship N eglect T acking on problems
G aining friends R eputation O btaining popularity U nder pressure P opularity Sal Sanogo
I Hope for… I hope for a community where everyone feels safe and respected. I hope for a place where every young person feels like they have the right to say what they want to say and have it be heard. I hope for a place where everyone has the same rights and opportunities. I hope for a community where everyone gets all of the necessary needs to live a happy and healthy life. I hope for a place where no matter what race, gender, or age you are, you feel you belong to a community. I hope for a place where everyone feels that they can be remembered for the good things that they did, not the bad. I hope for a place where stereotypes can be washed away in the river and float away and never be used again.
by: Natalie Neuhaus
Racing down the steep sidewalk, Our feet pedaling faster and faster, We had just left the park, Racing down the steep sidewalk, Our feet pedaling faster and faster, As if we had been expecting to fly at any Moment in time, Our mothers chasing behind, Trying to keep up with these Two tiny kids. Laughter echoed down the street, As we passed the old man who always sat on his porch, Humming a tune that I never knew. But as we sped down the hill, not paying much attention, An inconvenient bump between a driveway and the sidewalk Came out of nowhere, and my little bike tire Stopped to shake hands with the bump, But in the process, managed to throw me to the ground. I was left with a few scratches, But those can heal up, Real easy. So we kept on pedaling, We continued our races, But we always remembered to slow down, When we reached the inconvenient bump In the road, to give our tires time to say hello. Soon there was an even smaller bike, Trailing behind, following us everywhere, We taught this bike to slow down for the inconvenient Bump in the road, too. Soon we grew out of our tiny clothes, And small bikes, So we exchanged them for new ones. As we got older,
Our races began to stop. We didn’t pedal together much, And even the smaller bike had been exchanged For a bigger model. But when we did go biking, We always stopped for the Inconvenient bump in the road. Well, today I went biking alone, I turned the corner and Down the steep street I went, Racing against myself, I guess. Halfway down, from instinct I slightly pulled on the brakes To slow down for the inconvenient bump in the road, But it was gone. Just like the scratches on my knee from the first time I fell Off the bike, at the inconvenient bump in the road, the bump had been fixed, or “healed.” I took a couple seconds to Get reoriented. But then I kept pedaling, As if it had never been there In the first place. As if I’d never scratched my knees. I didn’t have time to be sad over An inconvenient bump in the road. So I kept biking, and learned to forget, Because things change, And there’s no way to get that bump back. But that doesn’t mean we stop pedaling. by Charlotte Mumma
One Must Fall One must first fall in order to stand up One must be willing to take risks in order to succeed One must first give and lose in order to receive and gain One must experience in order to understand One must first fall, One must first fall, One must first fall by Devin O’Connell
Whales are pretty cool Whales are pretty cool, That’s a fact I can’t deny. They’ve pushed me through my struggles, They’ve been there for when I’ve cried. My dad studied whales, I know all the different types. He supported me through my diagnosis, When lung cancer changed my life. We made the best of pirates, We would park our boat ashore. We once went out with shady clouds, And I was swept overboard. To the bottom of the ocean I sank, While my dad searched and searched. Then soon I was found before I had drowned, But my lungs had become even worse. I was put in a large cold machine, Created to help me to breath. I was scared and unsure of everything, And all I wanted to do was leave. But my dad was still there for me, He told me he was a fool. And through all my dismay I turned out okay. Which is why whales are pretty cool. by Michael Jarema
When we walk down the street And are found dead Then, will it end? When I, a Hispanic by race And white by my skin Am labeled as “suspicious” Then will it end? When we are shot, And found dead on the street Shot by men “Protecting” their lives Then, can it change? With the tables turned Then, It must change. When Will it Change? by Alejandro López
Do I fight the status quo’s evil? I’m not causing any major upheaval But the current system is almost medieval Making us conform while being deceitful I don’t believe everything I hear But I do trust those whose views I share, them I don’t fear Their path is one I do not steer from So flaws in their thought can make me be dumb But at least I won’t be something my friends will beat on We all try to do our part while staying clean But with the world so mean I can’t help thinking I’m not so keen Acting to help by looking at a computer screen Ben Weissman
Race Injustice Harassment Oppression Synonymous with being black Facing subjection Unable to climb out of our pit Placed there by whites Enshrined there by law Continually oppressed Yet United We must stand
by Genesis Johnson
I, Too * I, too, sing America I’ve been in the shadows and silence for far too long They make fun of me, when sharing my ideas I often run in the darkness, crying my eyes out But that’s going to change. Tomorrow, I’ll be with people that’ll understand me People who’ll listen, being an outcast Sharing our ideas, together, with the world. By: Chloe Wheeler * inspired by Langston Hughes’ “I, Too”
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Spider Web 2016
Cover Art by: Sophie O’Beirne Grade 6
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