2022 Hippocrene

ISSUE • 30 2022

HIPPOCRENE

Hip·po·crene ( Hip · po · crene | \hi-pə-krē-nē ) noun, literary 1. used to refer to poetic or literary inspiration 2. Greek Mythology — a fountain on Mount Helicon, sacred to the Muses: its waters inspire poets

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a note from the advisors The Hippocrene is celebrating its 30th year in its current format, as a venue for the best literary and artistic works from our students at Avon Old Farms. Each year, we accept submissions from students, faculty and staff, and alumni. Submissions are due prior to our Long Winter Weekend in February, then the editorial staff then read all literary work and examine the art pieces.

We pick those pieces that speak to us ‌because of a powerful or beautiful message or, in other cases, pieces that we feel tell a story that needs to be told.

This year our theme was Mahalo — a Hawaiian expression honoring gratitude, graciousness, and thankfulness. At the beginning of the year, we assumed this theme would fit the mood of the campus as we began to emerge from our pandemic restrictions and return to something resembling a routine. However, in reading the submissions, it is clear that the pandemic is still very much with us, and is impacting how we see the world. Exploring our creativity has allowed us to process all that is happening around us, and within us. Although anxiety still remains high, our ability to express ourselves through our artistic endeavors allows the self-reflection necessary to get to the other side of the last few years. It is in the spirit of Mahalo, then, that we celebrate our art, our literature, our poetry as they all help us heal.

Samantha Samantha Jensen

Jaso

Evan Sayles

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H I P P O C R E N E 2021-2022

The Arts & Literary Magazine of Avon Old Farms School TABLE OF CONTENTS (red denotes seniors)

JACK MAAS ’22 YUXIAO HE ’23 QUENTIN CUTLER ’22 ANONYMOUS MICHAEL XIE ’22 JOE KOOLURIS ’22 ETHAN SHAMES ’23 XANDER RATLEDGE ’22 SAM FRUSHONE ’23 SAM DION ’23 PETER SIANA ’23 CLAYTON DONAHUE ’22 CHASE HARRIS ’22 PATRICK DALLAHAN ’23 ERIC PENG ’23 TOMMY HIGGINS ’22 PATRICK MELLA ’22 JARED FLAKS ’23 LINHAO JIANG ’22 BANKS MONIN ’23 FRANCIS HAGOOD ’23 XANDER RATLEDGE ’22 JUSTIN MANAFORT ’23 SAMANTHA JENSEN F.A.S. YUXIAO HE ’23 GEORGE WIRPEL ’22 PATRICK DALLAHAN ’23

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N.Y. STATE OF MIND SELF ELIJAH BOY STATUE OF YOUTH THREAD (TOP) THREAD (MIDDLE) THREAD (BOTTOM) PALM TREES THE DOOR IS OPENED, THERE IT LAY BOOK GONE WITH THE PASSAGE OF TIME ARIANA PIXAR MASK PUG I AM ALONE LONELY BOY ON STAIR GRAFFITI SKATEBOARD A CREATURE INCHES ITS WAY SPIDER DISTANT THOUGHTS THIS IS JUST TO SAY MAN ON TRAIN SOLUTION DETORA GROWING UP

1 2 3 4 5 6 6 6 7–8 9 9 10 12 13 13 14 15 15 16 17 18 19 19 20–22 21 22 23

H I P P O C R E N E 2021-2022

The Arts & Literary Magazine of Avon Old Farms School TABLE OF CONTENTS (red denotes seniors)

XANDER RATLEDGE ’22 WILLIAM HART ’23 JOSH HUNTER ’23 ALEX KWAK ’23 MARK LANG ’22 YUXIAO HE ’23 LOGAN SEO ’22 RYAN CHOI ’23 JACK DINICOLA ’23 CHASE HARRIS ’22 PATRICK LOOMIS ’22 DAVID PARK ’23 NOAH SCHMEIZER ’22 PATRICK MELLA ’22 GEORGE WIRPEL ’22 JACK MAAS ’22 SEAN PARK ’24 FREDDY PULVER ’23 DONOVAN CROWLEY ’24 NIKHIL SATPATHY ’22 CHASE HARRIS ’22 JUN HWANG ’23 LINHAO JIANG ’22 LOGAN SEO ’22 CHENGXUAN LI ’23 LUKE ADELSBACH ’24 SAM FRUSHONE ’23 PATRICK WALSH ’23

DRIFTING DIFFERENT WAYS TO SEE THE MOON SEVEN DEADLY SINS SNOW CHAPEL TALK SELF PORTRAIT SCALES FOREIGN LANDS FIERY NIGHT GIRL STANDING RICE, GRITS, AND ANOUILE STIPPLE POWER LINE LINKS ANGER AND SADNESS CUSTER NOCTURNAL VISION BEAVER POND U.S.BEE MIDNIGHT OASIS CHAPEL TALK CHANGE THE WORLD IS THE COVID-19 CRISIS TRULY A CRISIS? BLINDFOLDED WAY BACK HOME BIG BROTHER NOT TOO FAR AWAY WINTER SCENE DYING TREES

24 25 26 26 27–28 29 30 30 31 31 32–33 34 35 36 38 39 39 40 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 48

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N.Y. STATE OF MIND

I am a person that moves through the world running.

One that will Never understand what I mean to myself or others. Hidden I sit, scared I walk, unsure I play, unwanted I Sleep Sleep. The burning hate spews out Because of my corrupt past, remembering the destruction I’ve caused, and the bridges I’ve burned.

When I fall into my painful Sleep the memories come back, they twist and turn in my soul, breaking me down. Is this who I have become?

Demons and angels sit on my shoulder pushing and pulling on The thread. I am never sure what comes next, the closest Cousin to me is nothing. Nothing? I know the loneliness of my past but the beginnings Of my future hold a mystery.

What more Death will become of me?

Jack Maas ’22

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LEGION YUXIAO HE ’23

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BOY (explanation) The diptych below shows the two different sides of men: the side they put out for others to see, and the side they show behind closed doors, in the comfort of their own family or significant others. Both sides are just as important as each other, and just as developed, even if one side is expressed more often.

-Quentin Cutler ’22

As a sophomore English assignment, I wrote this piece in response to Jamaica Kincaid’s Girl.

This piece is a sardonic statement about the toxic societal messaging young boys receive regarding gender expectations. This writing will probably evoke anger, but I hope that we can attempt to harness this anger and channel it into fighting against these messages.

We have all heard these things before. We need to be better.

-Anonymous

ELIJAH

QUENTIN CUTLER ’22

BOY

-ANONYMOUS

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MICHAEL XIE ’22 5

STATUE OF YOUTH

“Thread”

JOE KOOLURIS ’22 ETHAN SHAMES ’23 XANDER RATLEDGE ’22

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PALM TREES SAM FRUSHONE ’23

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The Door is opened, there it lay (138) Sam Dion ’23

The Door is opened, there it lay The World watched with such bright Eyes Nobody knows what it will say, But surely catch them by Surprise.

Does it Speak? Does it feel?

Who is this new Friend of ours?

What’s it seek? Something real?

Or is This all a Dream Easy on the Eye So beautiful in disorder Doesn’t have it all But surely it will find its way.

BOOK PETER SIANA ’23

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Gone with the passage of time Clayton Donahue ’22

Like the leaves of fall,

Like the flowers of spring,

Time’s plan stays true to itself Regardless of your place in the world, The wealth you accumulate, The people you meet,

The experiences you make,

Time always finds a way to bury you,

To send you to the cold embrace of mother nature’s arms, To be swallowed by her roots and weeds, To be recycled and reborn And to be forgotten in the passage of time.

To die is to be human...

And human is all we can be.

ARIANA CHASE HARRIS ’22 12

Pixar Patrick Dallahan ’23 I sit in my room Computer open, face in my palms Covered in tears Wondering “what’s the point?”

But the message stays the same: it’ll always be okay.

You’ll always get that happy ending, maybe even if it’s not the way you expected.

It serves as a reminder that everything will be alright.

That’s what I want.

I’m the background, Up plays on my Mac. Pixar.

Have you ever thought of what makes Pixar movies so special?

So heartwarming?

Yes, Pixar movies are inherently sad and can get the best of everyone.

I want someone to be my Pixar.

Someone who is there to tell me that it’ll all be okay.

Someone to calm me down.

Someone to give me that hope.

MY Pixar.

MASK ERIC PENG ’23

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PUG TOMMY HIGGINS ’22

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I’m Alone.

Not lonely,

I am Alone Patrick Mella ’22

loneliness is the first pellet from a shotgun shell, being alone is the hole the blast leaves behind.

Trapped alone in a dark room is lonely, being trapped in a dark mind makes you Alone; Constantly fighting off the creatures your idle mind fabricates: pouring through the rubble of the once-proud wall.

They stood so mighty, innocence and ignorance.

They were slaughtered by my own hands.

And now no one is left to save me.

I’m Alone.

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LONELY BOY ON STAIR JARED FLAKS ’23

GRAFFITI SKATEBOARD LINHAO JIANG ’22

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A Creature Inches Its Way Banks Monin ’23

A Creature inches its WayBody worn down from Asphalts He’s Harsh and RudeAbusive Arrival, nothing else to fault Body Limp from scorching SunA Boy that can’t make it out Tired from many BeatingsThe Scars Spread throughout Bad times come to an End, To those who Persevere A Butterfly bursts outColors so Bright they Cheer

“A Creature Inches its Way” is deceptively simple. On the surface, it seems as if the poem is simply about a caterpillar turning into a beautiful butterfly. In reality, this poem is about someone very close to me who had a very rough upbringing and abusive parents.

Although his upbringing was rough, he still managed to become a very successful and good person. The intent of “A Creature Inches its Way” was to raise awareness about abusive parents, and show people that they can make good outcomes from bad situations.

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RIGHT PAGE: SPIDER FRANCIS HAGOOD ’23

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Distant Thoughts Xander Ratledge ’22

This Is Just To Say I seem to have taken

This is Just To Say Justin Manafort ’23

That treacherous sleek card From the back of the phone And with it I surfed the great Amazon Dot Com to see What new brown starch boxes wait for me Those 16 numbers that spelt the loss Of funds from the bank of my friend I truly am saddened by my actions I tell you from a new Phone

Forgive me 19

Man on The Train Samantha Jensen F.A.S. The man on the train sat with his briefcase at his feet, and his hat, wet from the rain, on his lap.

His gaze was down, not at the floor, exactly. Somewhere much further away than that. He seemed unaware of the surrounding commotion; families with small children shoving their luggage between the seats and down the aisle. Mothers trying so very hard not to yell at their children. Entrepreneurs annoyed by the chaos and mayhem, their eyes rolling around in their skulls, their internal thoughts expressed on their faces.

This man was different. His clothes are not quite the same standard as modern business executives, his shoes a bit out of date, their laces too thick, the shine not quite there. His briefcase was worn, the handle showing clear imprints where his fingers gripped tightly, the edges scuffed and scratched. I might have suspected he was one of those too-human-looking sculptures that had been popping up around the town where I lived. He seemed like a statue; alone, unmoving.

More than half an hour later, the man with the briefcase had not yet moved his eyes from whatever fourth dimension he was in.

A young woman, beautiful dreadlocks down to her waist and AirPods in her ears, sits down next to him.

She doesn’t give him a second glance, nor does he break his stare to look up at her. Her head bobbles a little to the rhythm of whatever she is listening to while she scrolls on her phone.

I am forever tempted to be nosy and look at whatever my seat-partner is doing. I mean, how does one NOT do that? You see something flashing out of the corner of your eye, and it is human nature to go look at it. Psychologists call it being stimulus bound.

That sure as hell sounds right to me. Not him, tho. I can see she’s scrolling Instagram, with lots of colors, and the occasional auto-play video. But he never 20

breaks his gaze.

She gets off in Danbury. This car is going all the way to Union Station. Our trip is close to 90 minutes, and the man with the now-dry hat in his lap has failed to move. The woman didn’t even seem to notice he was there. No one else in the car has even so much as shown recognition that he is there. I didn’t find this odd until just now.

Why hasn’t he moved? Like, at all? He looks as if deep in thought, perhaps meditating with his eyes open, but there is something that doesn’t ring true.

Someone is sitting right next to him and he hasn’t so much as glanced at her. Now that I think about it, she hasn’t acknowledged him either. There was nothing between them.

SOLUTION 21

YUXIAO HE ’23

Am I the only one who notices him? It’s bothering me now, but I don’t have the courage to talk to him. First, what would I say? How can he sit there and not move for hours?

I need to go, but I find it nearly impossible to move, not knowing if he is getting off, or breathing, or even real.

But the hat... The hat was wet when I got on the train, wasn’t it? And now it looks dry. Did I just assume there was water on it since it was raining when I boarded?

The brakes screamed as we slowed on our approach to Grand Central. People all around grabbed for their belongings and filled the aisle in anticipation. He didn’t move. His gaze was still out in front of him, his hat still firmly in his lap.

The tattered briefcase not even an inch from where it was when I sat down.

DETORA Minutes passed. If I don’t leave now, I could end up in New Jersey somewhere. Hell, I can’t let that happen, but I also can’t pull myself away. The aisles were clear - I have to go.

Reluctantly, I gather my empty coffee cup and satchel and make my way toward the door.

GEORGE WIRPEL ’22

I looked back as the train slowly pulled away from the station. He’d been sitting at a window, just a seat or two away from the door. But as I looked through the windows, the seat was empty.

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Growing up Patrick Dallahan ’23

My mom told me that part of growing up is experiencing heartbreak That it’s good for you Is it?

All it’s done for me is made me think

Each one leaving Stepping away Calling it quits After all these late nights, listening to their problems Never able to discuss mine.

I can’t keep taking this heartbreak, these strikes

Made me think “why?”

Like I’m an emotional punching bag.

Made me think “what could I have done?”

Questioning who I am and whether I’m worth it?

Made me think “was it me?”

Part of growing up.

Made me think “am I enough?”

Developing anxiety, and depression?

Part of growing up.

That last one, that last one hurts the most.

Each and every girl I’ve ever known

Ruining my self-esteem?

Part of growing up.

Everyone I open up to Everyone I get in a “talking phase” with And the lone girl I’ve ever loved all could not prove to me that I am.

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Its all good, right mom?

It’s all just a part of growing up?

DRIFTING XANDER RATLEDGE ’22

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Different Ways to See the Moon

You can look up into the deep dark vast sky and think Different ways you can see each and every night You do not know what you’ll always see Never a promise, nor guaranteed.

But one thing for sure is to see it will turn all black and dark blue.

Some nights it may be illuminated by the substantial stars and galaxies But never enough to take away from all the dark.

You can only imagine what’s behind it all Midnight on the coast of Connecticut I can see all above The glowing moon shining in all its glory.

Like a top that will never stop or spin It appears different each night, even if I can’t see But I always know somewhere in the world, it can be seen.

William Hart ’23 25

SEVEN DEADLY SINS JOSH HUNTER ’23

SNOW Alex Kwak ’23

The day that cigarettes tasted dark The day that the ash did an erratic pendulum swing

With a warm hug That lasted like a deep stain of wine Gave me a farewell

You came to me

Through the swirling smokes

With risky but beautiful

The lonely dark gazed

steps

her scents and voices for a while

“It’s time for the bed.

Picked up the pack of cigarettes

Turn off the light and let’s go together.”

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Chapel Talk Mark Lang ’22

There’s an old saying in China, experienced before. So I called Marco “What you hear from others may be one night after re-evaluating myself false, but what you see and experi- over and over again, struggling to anence yourself is true.” swer my own questions. He listened I have been here long enough to to me silently until I finished spilling experience many things. Looking every word to him and said, “Mark, back from here, I struggle a bit each I’m glad that you called me and want year, and I want to ask for help, but to share two leswhen is this going “Whenever you sons that I learned to end? When are are struggling to you going to stop this year, other than learning that figure out a solu- acting as though a man in his 60s you can endure? tion with your can blow by me I’d rather you call life, calm down on a cross-counme every day and and listen caretry trail in less talk about somethan a second. thing that made you fully to your The first leslaugh.” heart, your voice, son I learned is Later that night, because we often I learned two senfrom my Avon brother, who I tences from our neglect them.” considered one conversation, and of my mentors I will remember in life– Marco Pang. Marco Pang them for the rest of my life. They are graduated last year, and for those of “Stop trying to control things you you who have known him, he often cannot control and only think about views things silently and has a fair what you can control.” and “If you perspective. Whenever I feel down, I have to do your own things and becall Marco for advice. This year I had lieve in your own actions in somefaced some obstacles that I had not thing, stop caring what others have to

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say.” As long as you feel like you are living your life, what others say about it won’t matter.”

I learned my other lesson from a brother who recently left us and is continuing his career in college—Clayton Bone. I have only known him for four months, and Clayton is one of our top athletes.

Compared to him, I was sort of like “Mr. Nobody.” I didn’t think that we would be this close at the beginning of the year, but we got to be very close.

Clayton is always modest and calm, no matter how good he is.

He treats every person with respect and empathy. More importantly, Clayton is always sincere and encouraging when listening to others. I have learned a lot from our late-night conversations, including how to treat others and how to be myself. However, sadly enough, how to properly throw a football was not included.

These are the lessons that I want to share with you. They all share one theme, and that is how important it is to have the right “Attitude.” Each of us can decide

how we will live our lives and treat others. Words absolutely matter, and it is up to us to decide what kind of community we want to contribute to. Whenever you are struggling to figure out a solution with your life, calm down and listen carefully to your heart, your voice, because we often neglect them. Live your life modestly and sincerely. What only matters is you are walking on your paths, walking toward your own goals. Everything else that is trying to hinder you along the road won’t matter that much, whether it is masculinity, cultural differences, peer pressure, social judgment, Isolation, anything. If you haven’t started doing so, try to find a direction, and if you already have done so, start running on your path. Sometimes it is painful, sometimes it is bitter, but these are all parts of growing up.

So instead of complaining about “Why is this happening in my life?” and “Why do I feel this way,” I started asking myself every morning, “Mark, what kind of person do you want to be?”

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SELF PORTRAIT YUXAIO HE ’23

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SCALES LOGAN SEO ’23

Foreign Lands Ryan Choi ’23

As I have worried,

Raised me stronger,

Unlike I worried,

faced racial problems

Thanks to those pains.

No racial problems

first day in Maple Ridge,

Wish me good luck

First day in Avon,

I bite my lip to keep from From other country. crying.

I bite my lip to keep from smiling.

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Fiery Night Jack DiNicola ’23

Was it worth it to go out that night?

A beautiful night with the moon shining bright, The urge to go for a drive begins the end of your life, To not only lose yours but another in one night The cops that showed up had seen a gruesome sight.

The love of your mom made her unable to stand The fire that roared had turned you to sand Closed casket your parents unable to hold your hand Why you went out that night, I will never understand

This poem is dedicated to one of my hockey teammates who snuck out of his house one night and never returned home. He and 4 of his friends decided they wanted to take his parents’ car and go for a ride; they ended up swerving off the road and hitting a tree.

You were someone I saw as a close friend Just one more day with you I wish I could spend Until you swerved and hit a tree, the steel began to bend Your fiery blaze of life then came to an end

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GIRL STANDING CHASE HARRIS ’22

Rice, Grits, and Andouille Patrick Loomis ’22

I look forward onto the unbelievably straight and flat bridge, spanning the Lake Pontchartrain causeway. My mother anxiously drives my grandfather’s ancient red Ford truck. The groceries full of water, food and candles are shuffling in the back with each bump on the road. I can hear the scratchy radio: “All are advised to evacuate the Lake Pontchartrain area including Slidell and all of southern Louisiana, for the landfall of Hurricane Isaac.”

Looking to my left, the sky is colored black with bulbous clouds, an almost metallic-like texture to them. We get over the never-ending causeway and take the left exit towards Mandeville. We passed the gas station that had a line that leads all the way back onto the causeway; Rouse’s grocery has people pouring in and out of the small entrance and exit doors with pallets full of supplies; even Popeye’s has a line stretching a full block down the road.

We get back onto the small pebble paved street in Mandeville and turn into my grandparents’ 1970s home.

My grandfather shuffles out the door with his Donkey Kong t-shirt already making jokes as we bring in the groceries from his truck. The tv is on in the living room and my grandparents are watching the golf channel. My mother and I frantically turn the Weather Channel on to see where the hurricane is, and we both get yelled at to turn the Golf Channel back on. I remember ‌my grandparents didn’t evacuate and even had a miniature crawfish boil inside of their house while the city of New Orleans was 15 feet underwater from Hurricane Katrina.

An hour passed from when my mother and I got back. I walk into the living room to see, unsurprisingly, Grammy sleeping upright with a lit cigarette still in between her fingers only centimeters from the couch. Forty years ago, she burnt down my 32

mother’s childhood house the same way. I see my mom and grandfather in the kitchen cooking the bags of grits, rice, and andouille for the ensuing power outage. The first gush of wind blows over the house, and my mother stops mid-cut and looks at me and then my grandfather with wide eyes.

My grandfather laughs at us and takes the knife to cut the rest of the andouille as we both head into the living room. Looking out the kitchen window, the hurricane casts a shadow over the entire sky as we all gather in the living room and listen as the Weather Channel reports the landfall. We listen to each rush of wind blow right over the house; the trees and wind chimes smashing into each other making a terrifying chorus. Grammy lights another cigarette and pours her second or maybe third martini into a small round glass.

My mother rolls her eyes.

Then there is an odd silence outside before the downscale hum of electricity I thought only happened in the movies 3332

vibrates through my ears, as every light in the house instantly shuts off. All I could see was the small orange dot from the cigarette move up to the shadowed mouth of my grandmother. My mother and I get up to grab the candles from the garage and come back to Pop already stoking a giant flame in the fireplace while chuckling at us. We gather to eat the heaps of rice, grits, and andouille just before going to bed.

I wake up from sleeping on the futon in the guest room with an odd brightness coming from the window. The skies are eerily clear as the sun shines through the floral painted wooden blinds. I walk into the living room. Pop and Grammy sit on the couch without a care in the world.

My mother sits at the kitchen table, stressed. There will be no flights out of Louisiana for at least a week and a half.

I look out onto the darkening skies and from the small ham radio I hear that the eye of Hurricane Issac is passing right over Mandeville.

STIPPLE POWER LINE DAVID PARK ’23

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AJ Argazzi ’21 35

LINKS NOAH SCHMEIZER ’22 34

Anger And Sadness Patrick Mella ’22

Anger and sadness Two blank pieces of papers Unable to form any recognizable words Only scribbles.

Identical erratic lines form mosaics across the paper Unrecognizable to each other, even though there is no difference between them.

Its the difference between killing someone or killing yourself, Either way, your soul is dead.

CUSTER GEORGE WIRPEL ’22

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Nocturnal Vision Jack Maas ’22

I sink into my dusty mattress pad as Small hedgehogs dance on my sheets.

Tired eyes flutter, then calmly close.

My mind giggles, then mutters “Are you ready for the show?”

Welcome to my Brain...

Transcendence into my universe, An oasis of creation.

But there I sat in my solemnity.

I glance at abandoned buildings, The stray wires that connect them.

Though, I never feel lonely here in my brain, For I am reminded of you…

You lived in the house with the star windows.

A far figment of sight that seemed to exist, Right next to me.

But that was good enough, because while in my brain, you remain next to me.

I wonder if I will float away?

If I will land on the upside-down world next to you?

Will we jump from building to building!? We will!

But will you land with me? Will you spot me every fall?

Will you cheer me on as the times come and as they go?

Well, I guess that is up to me now...

As I sit here alone, in my brain.

Goodnight.

M

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BEAVER POND SEAN PARK ’24

U.S.BEE FREDDY PULVER ’23

Midnight Oasis

Donovan Crowley ’24

An aurora shined before me from heaven’s grounds.

The moon reflected against the calm, dappled water, And I reached out to a speck of hope But to no avail.

When the water and air collided, I felt it all.

Time became still.

I could see as far as the mountains, But the beauty laid before me.

A figure emerged from the dark.

The sudden screech casts a wave of disturbance.

As it soars out of my grasp to the gods.

My feet were confined to the sand, And emptiness surrounded me.

I closed my eyes and inhaled the cold mist.

A gentle breeze rustled against my cheek And took my foolish soul.

Just as water, I float away.

My tears were screaming with anguish, And my dreams were lost forever.

Everything was gone, And the world laid still.

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Chapel Talk Nikhil Satpathy ’22 You can delve into the past, reliving precious I wanted to return to doing the things I loved. moments, but you can never predict the future. I wanted to continue making memories. I wanted to play soccer. I wanted to graduate high So where did this realization come from? school. I manifested a future, and there began It came from listening to Travis Roy, a BC my battle and the experience that will forever hockey player, who had a remarkable life sto- shape and define who I am. ry. He said something that has stuck with me til this day: “We chose some challenges, but Four years later, I would like to share my some challenges chose us.” He had set numer- takeaways from my challenge. ous challenges, but the challenge that chose him was his spinal paralysis. I still remember #1: Your brain is your greatest enemy. If the exact moment my challenge chose me and you convince your brain that the situation is changed my life forever. completely dire, you will put yourself in a position to fail. Because of human conditioning, My heartbeat pounded. With my eyes fixat- we are so attuned to finding faults and being ed on the ceiling, I lay flat on my bed, taking negatively impacted by them that we often deep breaths. One hand gently massaged the forget to see the positive picture. I had no lump below my jaw while the rest of my body control over my past, but I could most defiwaited in dreadful anticipation for the phone to nitely control my future. ring. When the call came through, my parents answered without hesitation. Their faces said #2: Appreciate your today because your toit all. morrow isn’t guaranteed. Appreciate what you have now, appreciate all the people in your life, It’s Hodgkin’s Lymphoma and appreciate how incredibly fortunate we are. For most of us, we are fortunate enough to In my freshman year, cancer challenged me. have a normal childhood, distant from adversiI was looking forward to a successful first year ties. I walked into that hospital over 500 times at Avon, but instead, I frantically scrambled to and realized that kids were fighting through google, searching for answers. “What is Hod- problems far worse than mine - kids who had gkin’s lymphoma?” “Chance of dying with no childhood and lived in the hospital as if it Hodgkins Lymphoma?” As a young freshman, were their home. the idea of death was so abstract. #3: We are going to face problems bigger I vividly remember resting in my parent’s than Econ tests! Family deaths, sickness, getbedroom, agonizing in all sorts of pain: terrible ting fired, getting cheated on, and probably mouth sores, nauseated sensations, and head- many other things. But the lessons we hold true aches. I could feel the cold tears trickling down to ourselves are usually those we learn from my face. Would it have been easier to give up? unplanned incidents. It’s the choices we make at rock bottom that truly distinguish who we I realized that instead of giving in to the pain, are as a person.

I had to choose it, using it as a way forward, knowing it would bring me to a tomorrow and As someone once said, “it ain’t about how another tomorrow until all those tomorrows hard ya hit. It’s about how hard you can get hit would add up to my new future. and keep moving forward. How much you can take and keep moving forward.”

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CHANGE THE WORLD CHASE HARRIS ’22

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Is the COVID-19 Crisis Truly a ‘Crisis’?

Jun Hwang ’23

Most people make hasty decisions based on the short-term effects of the COVID-19 virus. However, I believe this virus will benefit humanity in the long-run. It has already produced many positive changes in our world, such as the restoration of the environment, redesign of the public medical care system, and introduction to a new working environment.

ease. This pandemic served as an opportunity to point out America’s weak medical system, thus opening a possibility to improve upon these problems. Even though COVID-19 has caused millions of innocent deaths, if people acknowledge the seriousness of the virus and take measures to prevent similar cases from happening, it is clear to say that this pandemic saved more lives in the long run. With the First, the COVID-19 pandemic had ben- right treatment not only for the upper class but efited the Earth’s environment. Many facto- also for people who cannot afford the cure, ries around the world stopped operating be- America will have a strong stand against any cause of massive quarantine measures. There disease that threatens humanity in the future. has been a dramatic change in the amount For this reason, COVID-19 is beneficial for of CO2, gas that pollutes the Earth’s atmo- providing a chance to improve the flaws that sphere, created throughout the world. “Air exist in today’s medical system. pollution levels, as observed by satellites, Third, COVID-19 introduced a new methare showing drastic improvements in many od of being productive. Due to strict quarareas that have been undergoing restrictive antine measures, work-from-home has been quarantines due to COVID-19 COVID-19.” This trend trending amongst people to complete their around the world could prevent the Earth’s tasks. It is terrific news because it provides ozone layer from getting damaged and ice- benefits to both the employer and the embergs melting in the North Pole. Various en- ployee. The employee gets to work in a comvironmental organizations proposed the idea fortable environment, which could stimulate but were ignored by many companies for de- creativity, and the employer can save money cades; however, it was finally accomplished since there is no need for an office area. Oththrough the COVID-19 pandemic. er than these, there are numerous advantages Second, people realized the importance of of work-from-home compared to the comcreating a public medical system. Nowadays, mon working space. By implementing this numerous people in America could not afford new way of working, problems like traffic expensive medical care. Not getting proper jams could be solved shortly. care becomes a significant problem when an infectious virus, such as the COVID-19 COVID-19, strikes America. According to MarketWatch, one in seven Americans say that they would avoid seeking medical care because they’re afraid of the financial cost of treating the dis-

43

In conclusion, COVID-19 COVID-19, a virus that is causing great havoc nowadays, will benefit our world soon. It has encouraged the preservation of the Earth’s environment, creation of a public medical care system, and the emergence of a new option to complete tasks.

BLINDFOLDED LINHAO JIANG ’22

44

Way Back Home Logan Seo ’22

Today is the best day. Today is the day that I will be discharged from the military after serving for 18 months. As a Korean Citizen, 18 months of military service is obligatory. After having a small party with my squad 845 at Hwasal base, I finally got out. I’ve walked through the iron gate many times, and it was always great. However, it felt a lot different this time.

There are no words that can really describe my feelings. It was way better than just amazing. I was finally going back to my home.

I waited for the 4:30 bus to Busan. By 5:30 it hadn’t arrived and neither had an explanation. It is way more expensive to take a taxi, but I wanted to go back home so badly. After two hours of a long ride to Busan along the Gyeongbu Expressway, I arrived back at Youngho Dong W apartment, the home that I haven’t seen for a while. Opening the gate with a blue key card, hopping into the elevator, and pressing the 25th floor. Each of these simple steps felt so familiar, but felt so new at the same time. When I entered the passcode to the keypad to open the door, it did not work. It 45

kept making the sound “Wrong Password” in a very annoying artificial woman’s voice. I kept trying to open the door using other passcode numbers that our family used to use for 10 minutes, but it still did not work. And suddenly, a random guy in just his underwear came out and asked who I was and what I was doing in front of his apartment. I asked him with a bit of anger, “I live here with my parents. I lived here for about three years. Who the hell are you?” I was in so much panic.

I looked for our neighbors, ringing the doorbell. The neighbors were not the neighbors I used to know. A lady with green hair and her pug told me I didn’t look well.

I came out of the apartment and took a slow look around. It is definitely Yongho Dong. I live here. The CAFE 051 was still there and VIPS, the restaurant that our family used to get pasta, was also there. Everything seemed the same except for the surrounding people. The CAFE 051 owner and the VIPS waitress wore black, not white and green. I thought I came back to the place where I belong.

However, I was far from home.

BIG BROTHER CHENGXUAN LI ’23

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Not Too Far Away Luke Adelsbach ’24

Not too far away,

Before a hawk spotted it

The sun goes up again.

In deep sleep.

A robin chirps

A similar bird is found

No different than any other day.

Not too far away.

A baby bird spreads its wings for the first time, Anticipating to take flight

As the proud mother watches from a distance,

As the proud mother watches from a distance.

Anticipating to take flight,

Not too far away,

No different than any other day,

A similar bird is found

A robin chirps,

In deep sleep

The sun goes up again,

Before a hawk spotted it.

Not too far away.

Taking his last breath, A life is soon lost Unbeknownst to anything else.

Unbeknownst to anything else.

A life is soon lost Taking his last breath, 47

A baby bird spreads its wings for the first time.

WINTER SCENE SAM FRUSHONE ’23 The leaves fall Left and right Branches break with The slightest breeze All the leaves crumbling Underneath my shoes

The seasons changing Colors from orange to brown With no sunlight There is no way to live

Dying Trees Patrick Walsh ’23

My life is over Or did it just begin

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index ADELSBACH, LUKE ’24 CHOI, RYAN ’23 CROWLEY, DONOVAN ’24 CUTLER, QUENTIN ’22 DALLAHAN, PATRICK ’23 DINICOLA, JACK ’23 DION, SAM ’23 DONAHUE, CLAYTON ’22 FRUSHONE, SAM ’23 FLAKS, JARED ’23 HAGOOD, FRANCIS ’23 HARRIS, CHASE ’22 HART, WILLIAM ’23 HE, YUXIAO, ’23 HIGGINS, TOMMY ’22 HUNTER, JOSH ’23 HWANG, JUN ’23 JENSEN, SAMANTHA F.A.S. JIANG, LINHAO ’22 KOOLURIS, JOE ’22 KWAK, ALEX ’23 LANG, MARK ’22 LI, CHENGXUAN ’23 LOOMIS, PATRICK ’22 MAAS, JACK ’22 MANAFORT, JUSTIN ’23 MELLA, PATRICK ’22 MONIN, BANKS ’23 PARK, DAVID ’23 PARK, SEAN ‘24 PENG, ERIC ’23 PULVER, FREDDY ’23 RATLEGDE, XANDER ’22 SHAMES, ETHAN ’23 SIANA, PETER ’23 SEO, LOGAN ’22 SATPATHY, NIKHIL ’22 SCHMEIZER, NOAH ’22 WALSH, PATRICK ’23 WIRPEL, GEORGE ’22 XIE, MICHAEL ’22 49

47 30 40 3 13, 23 31 9 10 7-8, 48 15 18, BACK COVER 12, 31, 42 25 2, 21, 29 14 26 43 20-22 16, 44, COVER 6 26 27-28 46 32-33 1, 39 19 15, 36 17 34 39 13 40 6, 19, 24 6 9 30, 45 41 35 48 22, 38 5

letter from the editors It has been a great honor to dissect the poetry and art that has shaped our past and future alike. As we all work towards the next journey, we captured what we have left behind in the pages of this Hippocrene.

As a reader, take care of these thoughts and work to understand the emotions we put forth to you. Art has a power within it, and it is our privilege to share it with all.

end was underway... As submissions started to slip in though, there was a slightly different energy that was captured in the words and art of many. Though Avon looked almost perfect at first glance, students were not shy to reflect and sympathize with the struggles that weaved their way into our life. Small differences like scheduling, workload, dorm life, and of course, covid protocols took us by surprise. It was true, life was getting back to normal, but nevertheless, life was now changing again. As is typical with language, words and their powers can take many different forms. Instead of seeing "mahalo" as thankfulness pertaining to the new era, we found gratitude for the freedom art gave us to reflect on it.

The recent year at Avon has been a melting pot of emotions for all. Through Covid, we all learned that there is much uncertainty in life, change is regular, and unfortunately, the good in it all can be hard to hold when life moves a million miles an hour. Though at Avon, there are ways to put a hold on time and reflect on the moment you see before your eyes or soul. Maybe you make a hit on the football field, strike the perfect note on the guitar, ace a test, or sit down to create. We all have our likings, but ul- Aspirando et Perseverando, timately, these activities allow us time to reflect on the world around us and share it with others. In doing so, we heal, we learn, and we work to become better. As a school and as the Editor of this Hippocrene, we Jack Maas ‘22, Editor-in-Chief thank you for the support that allows us to share ourselves in the best way we see fit.

EDITORS This year we selected the theme "mahalo" Charlie Droppo '22 as it represented gratitude and thanks. Quentin Cutler '22 This was a great theme! Covid was behind Francis Hagood '23 us; masks were becoming something of the Charles Goggin ‘23 past, sports commenced, the family week-

Colophon Academic Advisors: Samantha Jensen, Evan Sayles Creative Director: Justin Manafort ’23 Art Department Chairperson: Cristina Pinton Photography: artist submissions Printing: Marketing Solutions Unlimited, West Hartford, CT Press Run: 600 copies / 7” x 10” / 52 pgs. plus cover Cover paper: 120# Gloss / 4 color plus aqeous coating Text pages: 100# Gloss, perfect bound

Produced with Adobe InDesign, Illustrator, and Photoshop.

Three deadlines, all submitted online by students or faculty representing them.

Fonts vary throughout.

Front Cover: Linhao Jiang ’23 Back Cover: Francis Hagood ’23

50 www.avonoldfarms.com/hippocrene