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CERBERUS

Cerberus

The Literary Magazine of Ashley Hall Charleston, South Carolina

2025 Editorial Team Helen Kourtidis ‘26: Editor-in-Chief Secretary: Lucy David ‘28 Poetry Editors: Ella McCall ‘26, Savvy Lewis ‘26 Essay Editors/Academic writing outreach: Charlotte Guffey ‘28, Marlowe Murdough ‘29 Art Curator: Kate Graham ‘28 Staff Articles: Molly Mettler ‘27, Rebecca Somsky ‘27, Vayia Kourtidis ‘29 Marketing: Elisabeth Brisson ‘27, Lynden Taylor ‘28, Georgia Newman ‘28 Cover Credit: The Ocean’s Treasure by Carys Sills Faculty Advisors and Editors Chris Hughes Christina Trimarco Emmad Soltan

From the Editors Cerberus, an Ashley Hall publication since 1912, earned an esteemed place among the school’s time-honored traditions. The name derives from a stuffed dog, who traveled around campus and was placed at the Ashley Hall gates to welcome the students back every school year. Adored by many students, it became a mascot who “guarded” the school’s gates – hence its classical name, Cerberus, after the mythological guard dog. The current Cerberus team is excited to build off of our last few publications in this Fall volume of 2025. Please join us in congratulating the Cerberus staff and many contributing students, to whom we all must say: PQV.

Fall 2025 One of the most rewarding aspects of being on the Cerberus staff is having a front-row seat to the diversity of creativity we boast here at Ashley Hall. Whether you’re sculpting or sketching in art studios, scribbling and typing essays and poems, or taking beautiful pictures of the beautiful places visited, you are creating art, and we are so thankful that you’ve chosen to share it with the Ashley Hall community. We read every poem, look at every work of art, and smile at every photo, knowing that even then, we’re only scratching the surface of everything our friends and classmates can do. 2

Behind the scenes, we welcomed new staff members to the Cerberus team and reorganized some of our systems. A new marketing team created the posters you see on campus and represented us in morning meetings, staff writers wrote about the extracurricular activities that keep campus buzzing with life, and our editors and curators kept in touch with teachers and students alike to bring together the contents of this edition. We owe a huge thank you to the staff, to our student poets, artists, writers, and photographers, and to our faculty sponsors, Mrs. Hughes and Mrs. Trimarco. We hope you enjoy this semester’s edition of Cerberus!

CERBERUS STAFF HELEN ‘26: Editor-in-Chief Helen Kourtidis is a senior who has attended Ashley Hall since third grade. She has long enjoyed the humanities and arts, and she loves drawing, reading, writing poetry, and performing in vocal and instrumental recitals as well as theater. She has loved working on the Cerberus and can’t wait to see what future issues hold!

CHARLOTTE ‘28: Fiction Editor

Charlotte Guffey is the fiction editor of the Cerberus. She is a sophomore and has been attending Ashley Hall for three years.

SAVANNAH ‘26: Poetry Editor Savannah Lewis is a senior who has been at Ashley Hall for six years. She is on the Cerberus Staff as a Poetry Editor and she loves to read and write poetry. She enjoys works by Maya Angelou and Amanda Gorman. She joined Cerberus to engage more with her peers across grades, and she is thrilled to be part of a team that showcases the diverse talent within her school. She loves the collaborative nature of the publication and is excited for the upcoming edition.

ELLA ‘26: Poetry Editor Ella McCall is a senior and has been attending Ashley Hall for twelve years. She is an avid writer who also enjoys drawing, reading, performing poetry, painting, and crocheting. She joined Cerberus because she loves the arts and any chance to honor the wonderful artistic community within Ashley Hall. She enjoys seeing the creativity of others and helping with Cerberus is a perfect chance to celebrate the photography, writing, and other artistic skills of our community.

ELIZABETH. ‘27: Staff Writer Elizabeth Brisson is a junior and a member of Ashley Hall’s varsity tennis team. She is passionate about literature and art and thoroughly enjoys the diligent process of creating the Cerberus magazine.

LUCY ‘28: Staff Writer Lucy David is a sophomore at Ashley Hall who has been here for five years. She loves to read, write, and do art in her free time. Her favorite class is Classics. This is her third year on the Cerberus staff.

TABLE OF CONTENTS From the Staff: Around Campus…9 The Christmas Play- Elizabeth Brisson…15 ABC - Izzy Scolnick…17 Untitled Drawing – Sallie Dollens…18 Alaskan Urchin – Allison Bowden…19 Untitled Drawings – Anna Thome…20 Scrollathon Description…21 A Piece of Santorini – Bella Gray McCurry…22 Korean Moon Jar – Gemma Williams…24 Self-Portrait – Isabelle Grek…25 Swim – Izzy Scolnick…26 Untitled Drawing – Leila Rose Toporek…27 More – Annabelle Lee…28 Untitled Drawing – Rebecca Somsky…29 Palazzo della Consulta – Leighton Staebell…30 Untitled Art – Felice Killian…31 The Box and the Pen – Helen Kourtidis…32 Sundown in Ravenel – Jaalah Brown…34 Sunset over the Shells – Morgan Hill…35 Untitled Painting – Margaret Barrett…36 6

Vibrant Sunset in Cancun – Jaalah Brown…37 Poem of Charleston – Minka Tang…38 Tree Hugger – Allison Bowden…40 Madeline’s Oak – Blakely Thornton…41 Tree Roots – Allison Bowden…42 Whole – Annabel Morse…43 Untitled Painting – Katie Cina…45 Brevard Mountains – Lily Moore…46 Dung Beetle – Allison Bowden…47 My first friend – NaZyia Jenkins…48 Untitled Drawing – Ava Payton…49 Green Grotto Caves – Jaalah Brown…50 A table for 5 – Anonymous…51 Untitled Drawings – Emma Tedford…52 Water Lily – Allison Bowden…53 Painting – Emma Antonucci…54 Caw Caw – Jaalah Brown…57 Untitled Drawing – Maddrey Moore…58 Untitled Drawing – Eden Romanosky…58 The Peasant and his Gifts – Helen Kourtidis…59 Polyphemus Moth – Allison Bowden…62 Untitled Photos – Izzy Scolnick…63 7

ACADEMIC SECTION Rhetorical Situation Outfit – Sally Rowson…64 Reckoning at Local Apparent Noon – Tate Erwin…65 OLP Journal Entry – Amelia Finnegan…70 Poem on Omar Bin Said – Mary Collins…72 Sleeping Beauty by K. Iver – Caitlin Bennett…74 “Coochy-Coo” by Kit Schulter – Gabby Pinckney…77 “My heart and my flesh sing” Sean Singer – Georgia Newman…79 Let the streetlamps lead you home – Avery Steele…81 Personal Statement – Helen Kourtidis…82 The 2025 Christmas Play: Late Show Pleasant Energy Level – Emmad Soltan…85

From the Staff: Around Campus Athletics Molly Mettler The sisterhood forged within Ashley Hall is limitless. This special bond extends well-beyond the classroom walls or the hours of 7:50 am to 3:15 pm— boundless, enduring, and continually uplifting. Powered by the PQV spirit, the collective strength of “Ashley Hall girls” is vividly observed after hours on the sports fields, where competitors devote themselves to their team and their future alike. Learning life-skills such as personal responsibility, hardwork, balance, integrity, teamwork and sportsmanship, Ashley Hall athletes radiate confidence, poise, and perseverance. As we reflect on the first semester of the 2025-2026 school year, let us recognize the dedication of our student-athletes by documenting their many achievements and memorializing their impact on our community! Here is what the athletes on the Varsity Tennis, Cross-Country, Golf, Swimming, Volleyball, Archery, Equestrian, and Sailing teams have been up to this semester:

Varsity Tennis: The Varsity Tennis team continued their streak of dominance this season, going undefeated and winning the SCISA 4A state championship for the second year in a row! Led by head coach Charlotte Hartsock and seniors Grace Taylor, Kate Strenck, Emma Tedford, and Lily Sloan, the team championed an environment of overwhelming team love and support. Also, a special shout out to Lily Sloan for receiving the title of 2025 SCISA Region II Girls Tennis Player of the Year!

Varsity Cross Country: The Varsity Cross Country team took big strides in 2025 towards improvement. Finishing in the top 22% of Cross Country teams in South Carolina and 7th at the SCISA state-meet with a top-5 runners average of 21:12.1, the cross country team certainly left everything out on the course. During their early morning runs and long bus rides, the team became “super close and supportive of each other” according to junior Elizabeth Brisson. The cross country team greatly benefited from the leadership of head coach Jeff Word and senior Gemma Williams.

Varsity Golf: The Varsity Golf team enjoyed another successful season, filled with multiple personal best performances and the 10

ossification of a true team unit. With head coach Paige Crafton and senior Clara Kirchner at the helm, the golf team fostered a “welcoming and loving” team culture that made newcoming junior Sally Rowson, “right at home”. Score wise, the team’s top two scorers—Clara Kirchner and Tate Erwin—both had personal best scores under 46. We can't wait to see what this team does next season!

Varsity Swimming: Excelling in the pool for yet another season, the Varsity Swim team was the 2025 SCISA Girls’ Swimming State Runner-Up this year. Under the direction of head coach Cassidy Ringe and junior Izzy Scolnick, this team practiced tirelessly in the morning and afternoons, fostering a tight team environment. There is a very bright future ahead for this young swim team as they continue to grow and develop.

Varsity Volleyball: It comes as no surprise that veteran head coach Franny Slay added another Varsity Volleyball season of high level competition to her record going 7-7 in their regular season. As represented in their 3-2 comeback against Academic Magnet on senior night, the volleyball team had a never-let-up spirit. Reflecting on her last season with seniors Charlotte Strickland, Maclane Applegate, and Diana 11

Street, junior Liza Hood said that being on the volleyball team has given her some of her, “most favorite memories here at Ashley Hall”. Moreover, the volleyball team also celebrated as Tulane-committ Charlotte Strickland recorded 3,000 career assists and was named the 2025 SCISA Region 4A Girls Volleyball Player of the Year!

Varsity Archery: Kicking off their season on November 14th, the Varsity Archery team is coming into the 2025 locked and loaded! Led by head coach Ellen Reiber and seniors Ella Mccall, Carys Sills, and Penny Rose, the archery team is looking to continually “level up” their game. In their FIRST meet of the season, Carys and Penny have already scored personal bests! We can not wait to see what they are able to accomplish this winter!

Varsity Sailing: The Varsity Sailing team has been blowing everyone’s socks off with their commitment to improvement this year. Unlike many other Ashley Hall sports teams that run for only one season, Varsity Sailing captains their Club 420s year-round making the team “very close and bonded” (Nettie Carter). The team has competed in numerous regattas locally and across the south under the direction of head coach Kate O’Donnell and junior Nettie Carter, and 12

we wish them the best of luck as they enter the second half of their season!

Varsity Equestrian: After finishing as the 2024- 2025 SCISA Girls’ Equestrian State Runner-Up last year, the Varsity Equestrian team has big hopes for the 2025-2026 season.This year they have their eyes on the state trophy as they finally feel like they have the team-numbers to really compete. Led by head coach Cyndi Simpson and captain Liza zeil, the team has already taken first place at the SCISA season-opening horse show at Tally Ho in Florence, SC! Also, congratulations to Liza Zeil for her commitment to continue her Equestrian career at Wofford College!

Performing Arts Vayia Kourtidis At any given time at Ashley Hall, whether spring or fall, morning, noon, or night, the performing arts students are practicing and preparing for their next show. Throughout the school day, monologues echo through Burges Auditorium, the choir croons in the recital hall, dance classes flit across the room, and the orchestra perfects its bowings and plucking. As the sun lowers in the sky and 13

students begin returning home, the campus continues to buzz with those who stay for private music lessons that culminate in the winter recital, when all get to show off their perfected music. Once the weather starts to cool and sweaters come out from the back of everybody’s closet, auditions for the annual Christmas Play are held. The sound of the familiar carols from the choir and orchestra fills the school as the Jester’s Dances is choreographed and the actors memorize their lines in anticipation of the 101st performance of the Christmas Play–and for the first time in many years, there will be two shows on the 12th of December to accommodate the size of the audience. Double the people this year will get to watch the iconic senior angel procession as they say goodbye to the beloved tradition! At the same time, practiced and novice performers alike get their acts together for the Thanksgiving Talent Show, fondly named the Greatest Assembly of the Year (GAOTY), in which anyone can show off their dancing, singing, or whatever else they’d like to share with the student body! This year’s assembly was definitely one for the books, including a visual arts showcase, many dramatic lip-synced dances, and some beautiful singing! All in all, the fall semester is one filled with music and dance that pervades 14

the chilly air and warms the heart of every student and teacher at Ashley Hall. Break a leg, everyone!

The Christmas Play Elizabeth Brisson A special Friday in December, beneath the stage lights, The Cathedral of St. Luke and Paul is filled with a silver night. A hundred years of whispered cheer, The tradition continues from year to year. Town criers ring the opening call, Their voices carried through the hall. Choirs gather, strings awake, Each year the beautiful melodies they make. Jester dance with painted smiles, Doing cartwheels down the aisles. The shepherds bicker bold and bright, Their playful arguments cause a sight. The Kings enter bearing gifts, Gold, frankincense and myrrh best fit. The angels enter full of grace, 15

Circling the holy birthplace. Mother Mary’s gaze, Joseph’s quiet praise. The baby Jesus’s wooden manger, Greeted by many noble strangers. Renaissance spectators fill the pews of the Church, Followed by alumni, a seat they search. In the winter’s glow, Ashley Hall reminds us what Christmas shows.

ABC by Izzy Scolnick

Untitled Drawing by Sallie Dollens

Alaskan Urchin by Allison Bowden 19

Untitled Drawings by Anna Thome 20

Students in 3D, 3D Honors, and 3DAP: Our students participated in Scrollathon at the Gibbes Museum of Art on October 15th, an event that was much more than a field trip. What is the Scrollathon? It's a massive, nationally-collaborative art and storytelling project celebrating the upcoming 250th anniversary of the founding of the United States. Participants across the country create individual scrolls, which are then assembled into a monumental textile artwork. It aims to unite America by documenting individual stories and expressions. During the workshop, each 3D Design Ashley Hall student contributed a piece that will become part of this historic art work, which is destined for the Gibbes' permanent collection. Even more exciting, the collaborative textile will be featured on a national stage at the Kennedy Center in Washington D.C. in 2026 for the anniversary celebration. It's a tremendous source of pride that our students could not only represent Ashley Hall but also contribute to the larger artistic representation of South Carolina on such a significant national scale.

Piece of Santorini Bella Gray McCurry Nearly 8,000 years ago in Santorini, Greece, the Thera volcano exploded, leading to what would be recorded as one of the largest volcanic eruptions in history. The eruption shaped the island, both geographically and historically, as we know it today. My work, A Piece of Santorini, is a tribute to the island's history and strength. I was inspired by my love for Greece and the islands of Santorini. I designed the base of my pot and the general shape based on ordinary historical Greek pots, which were most commonly slightly rounded and often incorporated intricate wave patterns. The colors for my pot are based on the recent 19th-century architecture, which is where the famous blue and white colors come from. The white comes 22

from the natural color of the buildings since many are made from pumice stone left behind from the ancient eruption. The blue comes from the roofs, which are painted to reflect the sunlight in the summer, made from the local supply of limestone. The center of my pot, which I painted a deep ocean blue, represents the caldera, which was filled with seawater after the explosion and remains a popular tourist attraction today. To create A Piece of Santorini, I started by wedging my clay to remove all air bubbles. Then I took it and created a small thin spiral, which I then smoothed to create my base. Next, I began to take coils (strips of clay) and build my walls, attaching the pieces using the slip and score method. After I had a pot base I liked, I smoothed it to be flat and even. I then took another coil and carved the Greek wave pattern into it, and attached it. I repeated this process for both the top of the vase and the bottom. I then carved the intricate design seen in the middle of the vase. The most challenging part for me was the glaze. As I began to glaze, I realized just how complex my designs were. This meant it was very difficult to cover with the blue glaze and took a long time with a tiny brush. After this was completed, the process became much simpler. I fired it in the kiln, then applied a clear glaze and fired it a second time to complete the piece.

Korean Moon Jar Gemma Williams My cultural vessel is a glazed Korean moon jar repaired with gold in any cracks, an ancient Japanese technique called “kintsukuroi”. My moon jar is made from white clay and was dipped in a clear glaze, then the cracks were filled in with gold acrylic paint. My initial idea was to create a simple, glazed moon jar to serve as a unique decoration. I wanted my moon jar to be perfectly spherical and to reflect light with its glaze, similar to how the moon is a perfect sphere (from afar) and how it serves as a brilliant beacon of light in the dark. This plan was interrupted when a section of the lip kept breaking off. I tried multiple times to fix this, but that piece was determined to stay as it was. So, I decided to celebrate the imperfection and carve cracks into my imperfect sphere and draw attention to them by filling them in with gold paint. The finished work is a reminder 24

that sometimes mistakes force you to expand your creativity and can lead to even more beautiful results.

Self-Portrait by Isabelle Grek 25

Swim by Izzy Scolnick

Untitled Drawing by Leila Rose Toporek 27

More Annabelle Lee I am more than skin and bones More than muscles and veins I am a creation Filled with emotion Confusion Worry Fear I’m more than what’s written in my DNA On my Genetic code I may not be steel or titanium, but I am strong I’m not glass, but I am breakable So don’t break me I’m not paper , so don’t cut me I’m not a game, so don’t play me I am real I have limits I have feelings I have opinions that need to be heard I’m not a deer, so don’t hunt me I’m not a punching bag, so don’t punch me I’m a person like any other I’m a puzzle waiting to be put together 28

Untitled Drawing by Rebecca Somsky

Palazzo della Consulta by Leighton Staebell 30

Untitled by Felice Killian 31

The Box and the Pen Helen Kourtidis here is your box. here is your container. carefully picked to match your face, wrapped in a bow, in layers of tissue and lace. boxes checked of boxes picked, you suffocate in vise-like grip, placed on a labeled shelf, just you, your labeled self, and them, the rest, with boxes matched to faces like yours, to bodies and names, labels and aims. and then, a magic pen, you smuggled in, begins to glow. like smoldering coal. 32

and then, with your pen, you scribble thoughts on the back of your box and cut a hole. one to peer through. one to see the other boxes, the other people, even me.

Sundown in Ravenel by Jaalah Brown

Sunset Over the Shells by Morgan Hill

Untitled by Margaret Barrett

Vibrant Sunset in Cancun by Jaalah Brown

Poem of Charleston Minka Tang Blue as the sky, sweet as the grass This is Charleston, alas Floods so high waves oh so fast Surf or skate I hope it lasts Summer all year snow so fast Weather so weird how long can it last Tourist to many locals so greedy So condescending, why so needy Traffic so hectic drivers so mad Now my car insurance is bad Southern Hospitality Shows their brutal reality Southern Charm brings no harm Just like the fields in our farms Cuisine so appetizing Where no fish is surviving 38

Charleston lore continues thriving Buildings that are still shining So much better than the highland Charleston is full of islands

Tree Hugger by Allison Bowden

Madeleine’s Oak by Blakeley Thornton My drawing of the Madeleine Oak is composed of ink, sharpie, and pencil. It uses simplistic colors such as black and white, so the attention is not drawn away from the tree and is rather focused on the details of it. The Madeleine Oak is arguably the most striking tree on campus. Not only is it beautiful, but it carries history with it, adding to its complexity. Drawing it is no easy task with all of its intricate curves, cracks, and bends. Its branches extend for what seems like forever. The liveliness of this tree can be seen and felt all over campus. The Madeleine Oak captures and resembles the PQV spirit in everyone at Ashley Hall!

Tree Roots by Allison Bowden

Whole Annabel Morse An empty space, once filled with joy Now is filled with a hollow emptiness, I'm no longer whole I have been broken down into fragments I’ve been shattered over and over again. I’ve done everything But fly away Thrown down into a world where normal isn’t normal I used to be whole, but those days are long gone Riding into the sunset's arms There is a defining silence I cannot place An empty space I can’t replace Once filled with screams, laughs, and shrieks of joy The cool breeze has whisked me to once happy times The hot sun once cared for every hope and dream under itself 43

But now every promise is empty, every dream is shattered, and every hope is dead Because you are no longer So now we are no longer whole

Untitled by Katie Cinna

Brevard Mountains by Lilly Moore We were doing a painting unit in art, and I decided to go to the mountains because I love them. We have a mountain house in Brevard, and we go for fall break and summer break every year. I also go to Camp Illahee every year. The mountains really make me happy. That is why I decided to go to the Brevard Mountains.

Dung Beetle by Allison Bowden

My first friend NaZiya Jenkins Small pink nose. Big pink ears. A little girl with small hands Held me dear. She calls me Lambchop Small with no fear. I am filled with joy To be her first toy. We will play Till the very end Or a least Till the age of ten

Untitled Drawing by Ava Payton 49

Green Grotto Caves by Jaalah Brown 50

A table for 5 Anonymous A table for 5, how perfect is that! 5 amazing friends I have! a table for 5, oh I only have 4! Our friendship is becoming poor. a table for 5. I only have 3! What happened to my friends? a table for 5! I only have 2. Many empty chairs are alright now. a table for 5! I only have 1. We will just talk alone, the two of us. a table for 5! but it's only me. I guess I can sit alone.

Untitled Drawings by Emma Tedford

Water Lily by Allison Bowden 53

Painting Emma Antonucci The blank canvas sat in the corner of a room untouched– seeming to emit gloom. The woman picked up the paintbrush but could not find the paint to paint and shush the thoughts that swirled in her mind. She once found painting peaceful, but that was long behind. But somehow– she painted red. She pulled the color from within her head where anger often seemed to override reason 54

like the wounds where she once bled or the hair on her head. She then found blue from the depths of her heart It had resided there from the start. The past had danced and draped her heart in navy blue but now the damage there was something she no longer knew. She then searched within her soul and found yellow. Its vibrant pigment seemed to glow like sunflowers or the sun. The color seems to represent every time she had won. So she looked at the canvas streaked with red, yellow and blue, an open door created by her mind 55

where worries were now few. Since what used to be hard was no longer a chore, she went back in her mind and asked to paint more.

Caw Caw by Jaalah Brown

Untitled Untitled by Eden Romanosky by Maddrey Moore

The Peasant and His Gifts Helen Kourtidis A castle with white marble walls Stands formidable and tall Its gates are closed to what’s beyond They are locked evening, noon, and dawn The gates are old, the hinges creak So no one opens them to peek. Inside, the nobles and their wives Work hard to keep their happy lives The peasant stood outside the gate He sat and grumbled at his fate The closest window was so high; It would be such a taxing climb The castle welcomed happily Those who could enter craftily And through a different fortress trait Than the dilapidated gate For some, the castle left a rope Or ladders, or a better scope 59

The peasant had been born with three: A rope, a ladder, and a tree. Why can’t he have been born inside? The peasant, angry, once more cried: Why did he have to climb the walls To dance at their beloved balls? Some others heard, and shook their heads And felt a sense of mounting dread For they were born without his gifts No rope, no ladder, no assists They tried and tried to scale the gate And some jumped into the estate The peasant still just paced and groaned “They had more luck, more comforts owned.” He couldn’t see beyond his woes He thought the world was full of foes And those who pointed out his luck Still could not get the man unstuck The problem, no one else could see Why wouldn’t he just climb the tree? Or throw the rope and ladder high 60

And use them both to reach the sky? “If you do not intend to try and all your gifts, you just deny, at least give us the things you hoard,” The desperate people would deplore Their pleas just fell on his deaf ears As he cursed, with streaming tears And he hated those inside And he muttered, and he sighed The people learned to tune him out And found what life was all about Some made it over the high walls And walked right in the castle halls And once inside, they’d start to guess Why the peasant was distressed Their logic had all been in vain He had just wanted to complain

Polyphemus Moth by Allison Bowden

Untitled by Izzy Scolnick

CERBERUS ACADEMIC SECTION Creativity and Analysis: The Academic Writing of Ashley Hall Every year, Ashley Hall girls work so hard on their academic writing skills, whether analyzing Dante’s Inferno, working on an ODP, or learning to write an essay in under 45 minutes for AP English Language and Composition. These are only a few examples of the amazing work that is constantly growing, learning, and evolving! Mrs. Rowland’s AP Lang class did an assignment to practice their rhetorical analysis skills, by creating an outfit and explaining how it fit the context, exigence, subject, purpose, speaker, and audience! Here is one example.

Rhetorical Situation Outfit by Sally Rowson 64

Offshore Leadership Program (OLP) Journal Excerpts and Essays Reckoning at Local Apparent Noon Tate Erwin

Before OLP, I thought of happiness as the next best thing. The next best thing happening in my life, the next rite of passage, my next job, my next adventure, etc. I lived for the future. When I felt myself getting lonely, or lacking in some way, I would shift my focus ahead in hopes of escaping whatever it was I wanted, or needed, to get through. I thought that the meaning of life would make more sense if I discovered more, experienced more, loved more, and felt more. Ironically, I have learned that an outlook such as that is reflective of someone avoidant of the present, unaware of the fleeting, invaluable nature of time. In the past few months, I have had some formative experiences which have helped me escape that mindset. One of my favorite coworkers and best work friend, Lee, confided in me that she was moving to Mexico to pursue pageantry again (she won Miss Universe Puerto Rico, and while she didn’t want to, it was financially necessary). She also explained to me her struggle with mental health and depression, and while this was my first time hearing about it from the source, I somehow already knew. This opened up an internal dialogue within me, and I couldn't help but wonder how I knew, and most importantly, why she told me – why me? 65

Speaking in philosophical terms, I have discovered there are two different types of people: givers and receivers. Givers listen and give their all to people without expecting reciprocity; they love immensely and fear alienation from their own identity. They crave discovery and understanding; to know their purpose. On the other end of the spectrum, there are receivers. Receivers are an antonym of sorts, but not explicitly. Like everything in life, there is a grey area in between, but a key characteristic of the receivers is that they take. Not in a destructive or negative way, but they take to feel. To feel how the givers do. I am a giver. People tell me things, trust me with their personal information, and dump trauma and grief and everything in between onto me. Going into OLP, I knew this would be another one of these formative moments in my life, a rite of passage as Dr. Davis would describe. But, I didn’t know how drastically it would change my mindset and outlook on life in general, and I didn’t fully understand how being a ‘giver’ is not a curse, but a gift. One of my favorite parts of OLP was the raw human connection it fostered. It was a time for self reflection, idle time, and to make great connections with even greater company. I feel the most at home when surrounded by new people; it challenges me to befriend and get to know them, breaking my normal routine. For example, Lily Sloan and Grace Taylor. I barely knew them prior to our voyage, except for select glances across the harkness table in class when something funny was said, or the occasional “hey, what’s up!” or “how are you?” in passing. Being stuck in the 66

middle of the ocean with them forced me to learn who they are – what they like, what they don’t like, their hobbies, who they are friends with, and so on. My immediate friendship with them made me realize what I had been missing out on this whole time. I tend to put all of my eggs in one basket, and I had been seeking new friendships and new people to spend my time with. It made me conscious of all the people surrounding me that I thought I knew, but didn’t really know, and has inspired me to branch out and take seeking new connections to a newfound extreme for myself – not because I lack a supportive foundation of friends, but because I feel most alive when I get to know people. And life should be all about feeling alive. In retrospect, the lack of access to social media and the escape from the distractions of everyday life bred this connection, and in the long run, phones and the internet truly are so meaningless in the grand scheme of things. When you die and everything is said and done, do you think people are going to remember your latest Instagram post, and how many likes it got? Or how many followers you gained on TikTok after your viral ‘get ready with me’ post? I highly doubt it. Secondly, I want to discuss my newfound appreciation of the power of self awareness. I would argue that it is well known that the only way to achieve or grow towards true self discovery is self awareness. I think it takes an inquisitive mind to have the courage to interrogate oneself and comprehend how one’s mind truly works. When I meet new people, I can't help but categorize them according to their 67

capability of reading a room, and cognizance to examine this guiding question within themselves: why me? Aboard the Denis Sullivan, this was a topic I journaled and thought about frequently. It isn’t hard to distinguish deep thinkers from surface level people; you can tell by how they carry themselves, and the contrariety between how they think they appear to everyone, versus how they really do. There are certain people who throughout our transit dwelled in the past, specifically life on land, and didn’t strive to ‘slay’, or maintain the goal of staying present. That is what differentiates the people who grew on the boat versus those whose journey to self discovery remained stagnant. The key to growth is an open mind, and if there is one thing I’d like to take away from this experience, it's that. Growth is vital to maturity, and maturity is essential to cultivating growth. They simply cannot exist without each other. Most importantly, I returned from OLP with boosted confidence and a greater understanding of myself. My experience with being a Junior Watch Officer was a turning point for me. While it was intimidating, I embraced the responsibility, and it paid off immensely. I learned that I can really do anything I put my mind to, and being able to actually visualize and comprehend that inspired me to further pursue sailing when we arrived back in Charleston. Although that phrase rings true now, I don't think I would have had the same self reliance if not for Mate Hunt, Dr. Davis, and Ms. Moseley. I have a tendency to seek validation from adults who make me feel safe, and I am so grateful for our specific crew and group of people who 68

helped me cultivate this love of sailing and of the ocean itself. I can feel now that my path in life has changed, and this voyage has opened a lot of previously unexplored doors for me. For eleven days straight I reflected upon these feelings of pure joy, and I have emerged from this with a less rigid definition of what the ‘meaning of life’ truly is. Happiness manifests itself in different ways for different people, and I think one’s search for purpose does too. I have contemplated the existence of a higher power, and if there really is a God out there. I am an analytical person to my core, and it is hard for me to believe in something without concrete evidence. The subject of predestination versus the spontaneity of life influenced me to think deeper on this, and I have concluded that instinctually, impulse is what life is all about. You choose your path, and the decisions you make create that path and dictate whose path you may or may not cross. What keeps me motivated every day is the yearning to discover my purpose in life, and I think that all ties back to the question of “why me”. Circling back to the idea of ‘givers’ versus ‘receivers’, I believe my purpose within that is to embrace it for exactly what it is. I can't quite explain the phenomenon of why people trust me with their secrets, but I do know that it is all a part of a larger picture and duty that I am very grateful to be a part of. A very good friend of mine recently shared with me that being a giver is one of my greatest defining qualities, and thanks to her, I have embraced it as one. With that being said, the beginning of the rest of my life starts now, thanks to Dr. Davis and the 69

Offshore Leadership Program. This voyage is exactly what I needed, an escape from everyday life to ground myself in the true meaning of what life is and should be. It should be about pursuing happiness and discovery, not overlooking the present and fixating on the future. At the end of the day, life is not necessarily about where you end up, but discovering what makes you tick and what drives you to wake up each morning. Like OLP, it's about the journey of self discovery and passion.

OLP-Friday, April 4, 2025, 20:15. Amelia Finnegan “Suck the marrow out of it.” As time begins to run out, I'm becoming sappy. Right now, it’s dark out, and I'm sitting with Shila and Britton on a deck box toward the bow. The trip is coming to an end, seeing as we are almost out of the Old Bahama Channel. I'm starting to get attached to Jerm, Phia, and Coach, the crew members on our watch. Coach, aka Mate Methven, is such a role model. Though I was scared of her at first, she could not be kinder. Jerm adds such an enlightening angle, and you can tell he is definitely true to himself. Phia is actually an angel; she has the sweetest soul. They make the best balanced and perfect trio of crew on our watch. Thinking I 70

won't be able to see these amazing people again makes me sad, but I am grateful I will forever carry with me what I have learned from them. Coach told us in today’s almanac, “Suck the marrow out of it”, meaning give it all you got. This quote will guide me through our few remaining days in OLP. I'll never be able to experience something quite like this again. I've made so many amazing memories, whether they stemmed from hard times or funny moments. Experiences like going out on the bowsprit and looking back and seeing the entire Denis Sullivan with the abyss of the ocean spanning for miles surrounding will be something I will never forget. Even things such as the Captain's little life lessons, finding constellations with the laser pointer, spooky stories on night watch, cleaning the heads (toilets) at 4 am on my hands and knees, or simply lying on the deckboxes looking out at the endless sea will always hold a special place in my heart. The little niches made the trip so authentic and special. The funny moments, such as watching Jerm letting his luscious hair down like Rapunzel to brush it out or him telling us about his bestie Jensen from Utah, helped me to persevere through the lows. However, occasionally, the lows were really funny, such as Shila saying I can't do this, falling down to the deck, then proceeding to yak all over herself. Then, of course, she had to pull out her GoPro and vlog it. I fell into comfort and routine on this ship despite its abnormalities and physical 71

demands. I will cherish every moment on this schooner trying to “suck the marrow out of it” because experiences like this are once in a lifetime. Ok, well, I'm going to bed because I have to wake up at 3:30 for our 4-8 am watch! Time to clean the toilets!! -Amelia Finnegan.

Grade 11 English Prompt

Students were asked to compose a poem based on The Autobiography of Omar Ibn Said, an African academic stolen from his home and taken to Charleston to be enslaved.

Poem on Omar Bin Said Mary Collins They took me from my home, across an endless sea, A place of learning, prayer, and peace was once home to me. The language I carried became my only friend. When everything else was stolen, it would not bend. They called me by a name that was not mine, 72

But deep down, my faith stayed alive. In the quiet, I wrote words they couldn’t read, Lines of hope my heart would feel. Even when they tried to silence my mind, I found freedom in every line. I remembered who I was, where I came from, A scholar, a believer, not just anyone. Though I lived in bondage, I stayed whole, My faith and words protected my soul. They thought they owned me, but never did see That the truest part of me remained free!

Grade 10 English Prompt After choosing a poem to discuss, you’re ready to write your first blog post! Your Poetry Blog should convince me that you have read and thought carefully about your poet and his or her poem. In addition, you should consider the psychoanalytical criticism we have discussed and be able to explain if the poem you selected is more of a WINDOW into another world or a MIRROR into your own.

Response to Sleeping Beauty by K.Iver Caitlin Bennett Ballet is a demanding, challenging athletic art form that pushes individuals toward success, yet the journey is arduous; it involves setbacks and failures, but always teaches the dancer to persevere and stay determined; it teaches grit. Growing up in the ballet community myself, facing injuries and setbacks, I have always found the moments on stage rewarding, ultimately

outweighing the negative aspects, the pain behind the scenes. Performing ballet is a tremendously difficult yet delicate art form, an expression flowing from the hearts of the dancers, while their minds race with thoughts of the next steps. I enjoy ballet because of the discipline it provides; yet it is a physically and mentally taxing sport, the repetition of hours in the studio pushing our bodies to the limit to perform to our full potential. The performance conceals the hours of preparation, the effort, and the struggles behind it, alluding to the ideas of expectation versus reality. “Sleeping Beauty” by K. Iver explores the tension between fantasy and reality, utilizing ballet as both a literal art form and a metaphor for life. Through his use of vivid imagery, symbolism, and extended metaphors, the poem illuminates the discipline, physicality, and difficulty behind the art form. On stage, the dancer embodies the role of the Lilac Fairy, yet “underneath your tulle,” the dancer feels small and exposed, revealing the fragility masked by elegance. The metaphor “a mouse who gets eaten every night” encapsulates the dancer’s silent suffering, the pain the audience never wants to see, reinforced by the following line, “no audience wants to see that.” Iver’s informative use of contrasting imagery, such as the interaction of light and darkness, vividly illustrates the duality of a performance, capturing the fleeting magic of 75

transformation and the unseen struggles that lie beneath the surface. Moreover, the poem's emphasis on the ideal of transforming into another character as an escape from reality highlights how both art and life demand a continual performance, emphasizing that ballet itself functions as a metaphor for life. Iver concludes this idea with the line, “already you are learning offstage rules. Who throws the flowers, who catches them,” similarly to how ballet provides a structure a dancer must follow, it mirrors modern society, reflecting the unspoken rules individuals are expected to adhere to. Overall, this poem allows readers to reflect on their own experiences of the roles they have played and the truth below the surface. Moreover, the poem reveals that performance, whether on stage or in life, often conceals our internal truths. This theme connects deeply to the character Effis in the novel Homegoing by Yaa Gyasi. Gyasi utilizes the character Effia to portray how she learned to use her beauty as a tool for survival, performing the role expected of her to secure her status and safety. Effia was born into a society where the appearance of women was valued; her family “feasted off [her] burgeoning womanhood” (Gyasi 5), turning her appearance into a commodity. Similar to the dancer highlighted in Iver’s poem, Effia’s appearance masked her inner conflict of wanting to “really [be] someone” (Gysai 19). Her beauty becomes a façade to hide her insecurities, as she 76

follows a form of choreography imposed by society. Ultimately, Effia's performance of beauty parallels the dancer's performance of grace; both individuals are guided by structure to navigate society, which ultimately consumes their lives, even while concealing their internal pain and struggle.

Response to “Coochy-Coo” by Kit Schluter Gabby Pinckney I have many names: Boo-Boo, Smurf, G diddy, TeTe, Alpha, GG, and even more that I’m too embarrassed to share. Some I acquired when I was little, some I have received in just the past few months. These names are the stems of my family dynamic – the relationships, past experiences and memories that we hold dear to ourselves. That’s why some are embarrassing; there is a sense of intimacy in giving and receiving nicknames. A sense of suddenly being defined and defining. The poem “Coochy-Coo” by Kit Scluter made me realize that I’m not 77

truly embarrassed by the names my loved ones have given me, and I never will be because the names come from people I love. Scluter’s poem helped me see the beauty in those embarrassing names and how they represent my community’s love and affection for me, and the small, meaningful ways our names and experiences shape who we become. Schluter joins the ideas of normalcy, nicknames, and the uniform. He states, “…all these names will become uniform, suddenly.”Schluter’s placement of the interrupter “suddenly” at the end of the line represents the realization that routine and affection washes upon us before we even know it. Scluter’s lines have a commonality of interrupters that add depth. He states, “To be named again, correctly this time, with this name I trick myself into believing I’ve been waiting for all these years…” He interrupts the sentence by declaring that this time around, his new identity was flawlessly chosen. He is defined and named multiple times in his life then suddenly it is correct, and it feels right. Whether it is an embarrassing name or one we do not like in particular, we begin to slowly believe it’s exactly what we’ve needed all these years: the perfect name – the name that truly identifies us. Schulter’s idea of our identities constantly shifting and adapting through our lives connect to the character Marjorie from Homegoing by Yaa Gyasi. Marjorie has an identity dilemma between her home life and her school life, the two extremes in her life. In Marjorie’s poem for school, she writes about her identity. “Split the Castle open, find me, find you” (282). She speaks of finding the two sides of 78

her identity that are defined so differently but join together to make her. Like Schluler, she is categorized and defined by those around her, having the feeling of identity instability and having to go through trial and error until it is right. In the end, both Schluter and Marjorie remind us that identity is always changing and built over time, piece by piece, as we try to understand ourselves in a world that’s constantly trying to label us, and that figuring out who we are is a journey we keep working on as we grow.

Response to “My heart and my flesh sing” Sean Singer Georgia Newman

The vulnerability Singer experiences in this poem is raw, but purposeful; there is a reason for the speaker’s actions. Singer is in a new place, exposed to other individuals, with all of his emotions revealed; why did he 79

purposefully do that to himself? The sensitivity he experiences is also relatable, emotion embedded in his core issues, as well as in the fact that he is the one taking off his flesh and bones. The structure of the poem creates an emotional roller coaster, providing an out of body experience for the speaker as well as the reader. The first stanza just takes the reader through a normal routine; he then steps out of the routine (figuratively) by fully exposing his inner thoughts, feeling, and emotions. Although he's expressing the uncomfortable idea of uncovering his true self, his tone and diction (especially the verbiage “finally”) shows that he wants to be there; the moves he's making are purposeful. When reading the poem, other aspects of Singer's diction stand out as he goes into depth about his “flesh” being his “veins, nerves, cartilage [and] bones.” He paints graphic imagery in the reader's mind as well paired with a standing question: Why? Why is Singer voluntarily removing his flesh? How is he doing it and being exposed? It’s difficult, as readers, to wrap our heads around what Singer is trying to accomplish by these actions. Why would he want to expose himself and remove every other layer and filter he has? The answer to this question varies for every reader due to the unconscious psychology that underlines every unique, individual personality. What Singer was trying to say in this writing is different from the way I interpret it, but Singer crafted the poem's form in this way so that it could be interpreted differently. Taking Singer's words into our own perspective (completed with everyone's own individual experiences) is the only way to interpret 80

this poem. Warping the meaning to fit our own ideas is what Singer wrote it for; he strikes curiosity and applicability to everyone’s own stories and makes every reader think about their relation to his eight-line poem. Singer's core issues and unconscious mind undoubtedly shine through in his writing. His desire to expose himself could be a reflection on a core fear that no one understands him fully. His psychology is similar to one of the characters in Homegoing, James. James was sensitive and empathetic but was always seen as too sensitive and weak. James never felt he belonged, “what he most wanted, was to disappear” (104). Singer expresses James’ emotional thought process and takes it to a new light; James wants to disappear, Singer wants to be exposed and seen. What both of the characters want comes from the same core fear: the fear of not being seen for what one truly is.

Let the Streetlights Lead You Home Avery Steele Growing up, I thought I knew where home was. It was where my grandparents and cousins were nearby; it was a place of rolling hills, yellowing leaves, and square 81

brick buildings. For all my younger y ears, the Northeastern United States was my home, and I could hardly imagine anywhere different. But one summer, I had to rethink what home meant to me, because my family moved from the border of Pennsylvania and New Jersey to the Lowcountry of South Carolina. Still being a young kid, I resisted adapting to a new culture and setting, firmly attached to where I had spent all my formative years. I couldn’t see the reasons behind leaving home. It's been years since the move now, and I understand why we left, as well as why we always return every summer. Over the years, my concept of home has changed. I’ve been to eighteen countries and twenty-six states, and I’ve found home in plenty of them. Home is a beach town in Delaware, a fudge shop in New Jersey, a hotel in Arizona, a market in Kyoto, a temple in Nara, a district in New York City, an ampelmann in Berlin, a restaurant in Pennsylvania, and a cliffside in Sounion. Home, to me, is where the streetlamps are on.

College Application~Personal Statement Helen Kourtidis

When we were kids, my sister and I often had to answer the question: Whose are you? Not “Who are you?”, not “What’s your name?” No, the inhabitants of Mikro Seirini, Greece, only needed to know one thing about us. Or so I thought… the moment they heard our answer, more questions would inevitably come up. I would have to affirm whose my mother is, that we live in the United States, but 82

come back to visit my grandparents in the summers. Yes, I speak Greek. Yes, I like Greece. No, I don’t live close to Chicago. For most of my life, this tiny village in the mountains of northern Greece has been my ‘summer camp’. Wikipedia says it has a population of 74, but I think that’s a bit of a reach. The number seems only accurate in the summers, when all the grandchildren make their journey from different cities and regions and countries to visit our families. We pitch in to clean up the old school, ripping out unruly grass from where it forced its way between the tiles, sweeping away what must be pounds of sand that gets in our eyes and between our teeth and mixes with our sweat until we desperately need a shower. Then, at summer’s end, we pack into the too-small space and we dance. Five-year-olds, fifteen-year-olds, fifty-year-olds, people from Mikro Seirini to Athens to Charleston, South Carolina, everyone links their arms in a wide circle as age gaps and thousands of miles are forgotten in the feel of the rhythm. Meanwhile, that same question echoes through my subconscious. Whose am I? I always thought the answer was simple. It gets more complicated the more I think about it. I am not just my grandparents’. I am the granddaughter of Vayia Pappa, born Vayia Folina, the girl who raised her five younger siblings, who couldn’t go to middle school because she had to work, who considered herself lucky because she 83

wasn’t married at twelve and because she wasn’t beaten by her father like many girls she knew. I am the granddaughter of Athanasios Pappas, who walked miles for an education, who climbed precarious poles to attach telephone lines, who worked two jobs so his children could focus on school, so they could be the first family in their village with a telephone, with a typewriter, with a car, with a computer. I am not just my mother’s. I am the daughter of Chrysoula Pappa, who grew up getting water from a well, who was always a village girl in a city school, who moved to America while struggling with English, who knew she wanted to work hard like her parents did, so her daughters could grow up in a better world with a better school and better chances than she did. I am not just my father’s. I am the daughter of Antonis Kourtidis, who read encyclopedias for fun, who lost his father as a teenager, who accepted nothing less than perfect from himself, who jumped into his passion and followed it to university, to the United States, to professorship, to tenure. I am not just Helen Kourtidis. I am the inheritor of all my family’s dreams. I am the keeper of every mile walked, pole climbed, language learned, exam taken, passion pursued, and dream passed forward. I am the legacy of my family’s determination, a bricklayer, placing every inherited memory into the bedrock I stand on and the path sprawling out before me. 84

These memories are renewed every year I return to Greece. They pound through my skull every time I walk back through my school’s gates. They are the pencil scratches on every test, the expressions of my face in every show, the clicks of my keyboard as I write. They are everything I strive to answer, everything I strive to be. They’re whose I am. They’re who I am.

The 2025 Christmas Play – Late Show Pleasant Energy Level Emmad Soltan

The 2025 Christmas Play was Friday December 12, 2025. There were two shows; 5pm and 7:30pm in order to accommodate the ever increasing high demand. For many years, there was just one show with a packed full house. I went to the 7:30pm show. I was VERY pleased with the students’ energy level in this late second show after a very long Friday that started early in the morning. The waiting line outside the church was long, starting at the main entrance and turning around the corner with many more guests. But the line moved quickly after the doors opened at 7pm. The church was not packed full. No people were standing like the previous years. This is better for safety and security. The show was magnificent as always. I loved the DIFFERENT choir opening this year. Choir started with a NEW Swahili song with hands clapping and happy swinging. Then came a NEW emotional beautiful LATIN song from the country of Chile. The lighting was DIFFERENT this year. The peak was the angelic surrounding blue that felt divine. I had many WOWs! I am always waiting for my two favorite Christmas songs (O’ Holy Night and Silent Night). O’ Holy Night duet performance was incredibly pretty with the harp background. The show conclusion was amazing with the choir leaving and singing Silent Night with the pipe organ and the strings orchestra. The audience clapped with lots of 86

joy for this grand finale. During the weekend, the play kept playing in my head (as always). It is the season. This event is of epic proportions and tremendous beauty. I am very thankful and blessed for Ashley Hall to produce such a wonderful gift to the community. Huge appreciation for the big team. IT TAKES A VILLAGE!