Balboa Academy's SCALES - 8th Edition (July 2024)

Table of Contents

Fiction Houses in Motion by Emilio Pinzón 15 It Was Just a Pomegranate: Kore

by Catherine Cook

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Cover Page by Isabella Rios Editor's Note by Emilie Mendoza Senior Section About Balboa Talks

Emma’s Cottage House by Elisa Jung

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Poetry

Fiction by Mauro Vergati

The New Life by Lucy Noh Koi by Maria Jose Gutierrez

25 27 29

Numbers by Ana Paola Henne

1

Short Text by Ocean Santiago

Moving On by Isaac WrightMueller, Kiyaan Shahani, Felipe Hacker & Camilo Perez-Triana

2

For the Better by Rhea Chugani

Seeds by Julia Choi

4

Physics by Krish Bhakta

5

Nonfiction

Missing, You? by Leah Padmore

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Kafkiano by Isaac WrightMueller

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Moments in Motion by Daniela Chavarría Salas

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Defending Jacob by Roeun Lee

45

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La Gran Decision by Valentiina Angiuli

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Opposites, the Tales Tell by Maria Jose Gutierrez, Monica Williams & Rhea Chugani

Flaws of Time by Sophie Krueger Reminders of You by Sophie Krueger

Keep Going by Sofia Fitzpatrick

31 32 37

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Masthead Editor in Chief Emilie Mendoza ‘24 Spanish Editors Francesca Calvosa ‘24 Daniela Chavarría Salas ‘25 English Editors Gwendolyn Bethel ‘26 Sofia Fitzpatrick ‘26 Leah Padmore ‘26 Design Editors Milan Cohen ‘25 Luciana Calvosa ‘26 Catherine Cook ‘26 Balboa Talks Officers: Emilie Mendoza ‘24 Francesca Calvosa ‘24 Daniela Chavarría Salas ‘25

Editor's Note This issue of Scales comes at the end of not only a rollercoaster of a year, but also my time at Balboa Talks. Throughout high school, I’ve witnessed B-Talks be transformed into a space for creatives at Balboa and our official chapter of the National English Honor Society. This change was a long time coming and is a representation of the care that all those who have been part of Balboa Talks through the years have put in to this space.

I hope you enjoy this issue and all those that come after.

Your editor, Emilie Mendoza

POETRY

ANA PAOLA HENNE ‘24

Numbers We live a life determined by numbers These many numbers mean you still read picture books These many numbers mean you can learn how to drive These many numbers mean you can be considered an adult These many numbers mean you should have a stable job These many numbers mean you should be thinking about baby names But what if I reach the number and not the determined state?

Will my life crumble like a piece of paper?

Will society shun me for not meeting their expectations?

What do those numbers even say?

That 30 is the time I should be settling down?

That 17 is when my whole life should be figured out?

That 21 makes a good legal drinking age, But at 16, I am trusted with the control of an object that can take a life?

Why do we let numbers dictate what we do?

Determine what we can or can’t do, Or what we should or shouldn’t be doing.

Numbers can be rounded up and down, negative or positive, improper fractions or decimals Numbers can vary in a process, just like their many can vary So why do we let that one number determine where we are in life.

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ISAAC WRIGHT MUELLER ‘24, KIYAAN SHAHANI ‘24, FELIPE HAECKER ‘24, CAMILO PEREZ-TRIANA ‘24

Moving On There’s a beauty here, in moving on, A break in the action, a pause in the song, We see sprouts, once fresh under a morning sun, Now all too familiar as the evening comes.

Atop one hill we proudly stand, Looking back on a distant land, With longing, with sadness, with a touch of regret, Knowing we shall never be there again.

Then turn to face the setting sun, All contemplating how far we have come, The valleys we crossed, the bridges we built, The hundreds of instants we wanted to stay, And all those that chose to travel other ways.

We turn at last to the star of hope, Over an infinite range of treacherous peaks it shines Promising mystery and adventure, sadness and joy As we each find our way to our own unique slope.

There's a beauty here, as we move along, With a new chapter starting, plays an old sweet song.

As memories pass, so does the time we have left We step to tomorrow, as we continue our descent.

As we recall the paths we’ve walked In each vivid memory, paths are crossed Using ambition as our signal, the adventure continues forth We all look to the future, as we venture north.

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And twelve years past, see how far we’ve come All the sweat and tears that finalize the sum Dreamed just stand atop, this hill of triumph Only to awake in a different realm Was it a sensible world in my head?

Years spent in a race, for that checkered flag Finding just the start to a new marathon As the sun sets to the east and the west The familiar smell floats through the morning air In a world of unfamiliar faces Propped there upon the usual wear Living among strange ghosts with familiar blazes Now it feels that the familiar clashes with the new, You see friends become old memories, As they fly North to a future of promise and revelries, And sinking when that future has left you.

I know my course, It’s changed throughout And I hold some doubts But I know myself, I’m driven by sheer force.

And I look up and see That beyond a foggy trail, Still lies that same trail, And it will take me where I’m meant to be.

It is still so early, I’m sure there’s much more, I am, still, in my long life’s morning And I know that after a night in which rain was pouring, The skies will be clear for me to find what I am looking for.

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JULIA CHOI ‘25

Seeds Some can handle the bitterness of a watermelon seed Others spit it out You’re told you’d die from apple seeds So you don’t have a doubt A cherry pit has cyanide A peach pit, a hardened shell You wonder if it’ll grow inside you Eventually, time will tell Sunflower seeds are seen as snacks I don’t know what that’s about Chia seeds grow rapidly Soon you’ll see a sprout Which came first?

The seed or plant The egg or the chicken The anteater or the ant What kind of seed do you have?

And how hard is it to chew?

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KRISH BHAKTA ‘25

Physics To begin this journey we start with kinematics, Turned the whole class into fanatics, But vectors and scalars turned us into psychosomatics, Making my head hurt with all these new graphics.

Walked into the land of motion, A tough problem would cause a whole lot of commotion, Made sure everything was in place to rectify any notion, Felt proud when I got the answer with a ton of emotion.

Sliding into the ice with all that friction, Making me irate enough to watch my diction, Getting all that work done was a tough mission, But I eventually gave all those problems a crucifixion.

Every potential step I made filled with kinetic energy, Newton’s laws all inscribed in long-term memory, Ask me and I’ll still know them in a century, Looking back at all these questions with much serenity.

Finally, going to the shocking city of electricity, Making sure these cables are plugged or a referral is a possibility, Voltage is key is this world of powerful capability, Proving myself to have some innate ability.

Physics was an experience, Sometimes I felt delirious, Sometimes I felt oblivious, But after going through it all, I now feel impervious.

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LEAH PADMORE ‘26

Missing, You? Why is it now More than ever That I have you by my side That it feels you’ve been gone forever But what am I talking about It’s been you and me Together we are wild and free We’ve seen each other grow In this river of life we’ve flowed So why do I miss you You sit in front of me You listen to me But your not here with me All I see is an unknown person before me Oh my god I’m going crazy You and I are supposed to be inseparable You and me are unforgettable There is nothing to tear us apart You have a piece of my heart So why do I miss you Now you go out with other people But trusting you to go out with me is a gamble with the devil I still see you almost everyday So why is it that every time it feel you are so so far away Our conversation changed from our future to our present to our past After we talk a feeling of sadness is all that lasts 6

You say that we are best friends That there is nothing to amend That its still the same friendship You say we basically share kinship So why is it that I miss you.

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MARIA JOSE GUTIERREZ ‘26, MONICA WILLIAMS ‘26, RHEA CHUGANI ‘26

Opposites, the Tales Tell (OPPOSITES) Opposites, were you and I You were open, I was shy Bonded by our endless love Like a million signs from above Met on a sunny day She never stopped beaming While he was unfazed Him and her were not the same When they first met, something changed She was intrigued, and he was too She was something he’d never seen He was something she wanted to understand The more they learned about each other The closer they were brought Together they were astonishing This movie had an unexpected plot (OPPOSITES) The difference between salt and pepper Is the reason why we’re perfect together Our bond, just like sweet and sour We fell more and more by the hour

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Together they strolled in harmony With their french fries and milkshakes Sweet and salty, the best combination So different alone, yet so powerful together The polarity made them the match they were A balance unattainable by identicals Composed of perfect complements Is why they were drawn together Drawing the strings of their love Strings, invisible to the human eye They were linked by a strong force Like a rapid-fire burning the ice (OPPOSITES) Learning our differences Strengthened our connection You made me change in all directions Walking side by side, showing affection More and more, we changed our perceptions The time they spent with each other Will always be time cherished Never a moment of boredom Always something new They expressed their differences Which they accepted and adored Learning about each other Could never leave them bored Olives were his favorite food She picked them out of every meal He ate her olives, she was content The olive theory, proven real

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(OPPOSITES) Black and white, the tale tells A Japanese philosophy Does it ring a bell?

Yin and Yang, like that we fell We were under a love spell

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SOPHIE KRUEGER ‘27

Flaws of Time Time is such a flawed concept.

The lack of it, the ownership of it; it’s not like something like this could just be kept.

How do you even know when you have time?

Because with every line, with every tick tock of the ever-going clock, eternity stretches onward, and we must move forward.

And how does the sun rise, in a world most despise, in a world that keeps on spinning, from ending to beginning.

We dance to a tune, like puppets we swoon, as a broken record plays, a record that displays, something we call time.

But how to measure an indefinite source?

One that moves and moves with no remorse.

Seconds, minutes, hours, years; spread on through cheers, through tears.

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Rings of life, like a knife.

Memories showing, the way things have been growing.

Flashing lights, passing sights.

And when the sun goes down, wearing a crown, Kronos sits on his throne.

All alone, he asks no one in particular: What is time?

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SOPHIE KRUEGER ‘27

Reminders of You You remind me of Days on the orchard late, Warm summers on the lake.

The sparks when a firework explodes, The flight of different birds, like crows.

The click and flash a camera makes, The smell of cookies as they bake.

A ruffling of a page, The adrenaline of performing on stage.

The spraying of sea foam high, Periwinkle blue dripping from the sky.

Cotton candy dissolving on my tongue, Every note waiting to be strung.

Sunshine after rain, The system that connects us all; our veins.

When you open a clam and a pearl hides inside, The way stars and constellations shine with pride.

Sweet pollen in a flower, The warmth in my soul from talking for hours.

The simplicity of mortality, The possibility of eternity.

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FICTION

EMILIO PINZÓN ‘25

Houses in Motion On the days leading up to his death, watching him through any hidden Gael began noticing changes. This devices. These assurances were definitely wasn’t the first time that he ultimately useless. His only solution had felt this way physically. As a was to cover up all of his house’s matter of fact, he had been feeling this windows, power off all of his devices insatiable feeling of irritation in his permanently, and keep a loaded heart for months now. He couldn’t handgun on his nightstand in case of quite place where the feeling had come any intruders. His lifelong dependence from. No visible marks signified on technology and sunlight for anything out of the ordinary, but the timekeeping made their sudden persistent crawling feeling felt so absence massively debilitating. Hours tangible that it felt as if it could be began to melt together in his mind, plucked out of his chest if it was only which completely stripped him of his in reach. Gael was an extremely pale ability to follow his daily routine. Gael man, so thin that others often reported didn’t seem to care, however. He knew him disappearing within the blink of an that these drastic measures were all in eye, only to reappear within the next. A the name of keeping him isolated and rather reclusive person, he would safe from the outside world’s prying spend long hours sitting in his room, eyes. What was much less justifiable waiting for something to guide him was the mirror. through the emptiness of his life. One day, the feeling in his heart worsened One day, Gael woke up and walked to considerably. He decided to call off his bathroom to wash his face. After work for the day. What he didn’t know drying his face with a hand towel, he at the time was that he would never noticed something curious. In his leave his house again. mirror’s projected view of his bedroom beyond his open bathroom door, there Gael’s worsening condition came with appeared to be sunlight coming in other concerning side effects, the first through the windows. This seemed so of which was incessant paranoia. foreign to his now enclosed mind that Waking up, he would check the walls of it seemed as though there were his house, assuring himself over and brilliant, shining waves flooding into over again that no one was his bedroom. He stared at the mirror, 15

entranced by the strange asymmetry of the reflection. He was so focused on this dreamlike image that he didn’t realize that he was completely absent from the mirror’s reflection. His focus was only broken when he appeared on the edge of the mirror, except he wasn’t being reflected. A seemingly cheerier, healthier version of him looked back at him with a mix of curiosity and disgust. Suddenly, the world around him seemed darker, more hostile. He ran out of the bathroom and shut the door. This new mutation of his reality scared him beyond belief. That strange doppelganger was definitely not there before he shut himself in. This, however, did not dissuade him at all from continuing his isolation. He let his breathing calm down and instead wondered aloud what those golden waves were.

houses in his neighborhood would begin slowly rolling away from him.

What was curious about this was that this movement was completely silent.

Instead of seeming like loud, crashing giants, these houses felt like superlunary ghosts who would float away from Gael as if he was a repulsive force. Every time he fell asleep, Gael would revisit this same dream, and would wait for what felt like hours until every house in his neighborhood was devoured by the horizon and the stagnancy of the situation before his eyes coupled with a lack of other sensory stimuli made him feel as if his existence was null and void.

What ultimately made Gael tear away at his own sanity were the bugs.

Before his isolation, to his knowledge, his house was nearly completely free of bugs. He saw an occasional house fly, but nothing much more than that.

After successfully achieving his Once he locked himself in, he began complete isolation from the outside seeing bugs at an increasingly world, Gael began having strange distressing rate. This became such an dreams. If he had managed to get issue that he became obsessed with some semblance of sleep despite his ridding his house of all the bugs within irritating prison, he would be it. He felt a sense of destructive transported to a new, spectral realm. determination which was ultimately It wasn’t unlike his own neighborhood, fruitless. One day, he spent several but there was something odd about it hours chasing down a cockroach, that became almost immediately waiting for it to appear from apparent to him following his entrance underneath pieces of furniture. The into the dream world. He sat problem came with what he motionless at the end of his street and interpreted as nature itself mocking watched as an otherworldly spectacle him. Whenever he killed a bug, occurred before his eyes. All the 16

another one would quickly appear.

This gave him such a palpable sense of anxiety that he could barely rest, feeling as though there were bugs in his bed and that they were crawling all around his body. This is what finally broke him. Upon seeing a long line of ants crawling across one edge of his room, Gael took an axe he stored in his garage and used it to break apart the walls of his house, all in search of those terrible creatures. By the end of this long process, despite not finding a single insect, his house seemed as if the very Earth had shaken to its core, causing cataclysmic damage. All his furniture was tossed around his house and torn apart as if it had been torn to pieces by a savage animal. The very foundation of his house was starting to crumble, but his house managed to stay up by some miraculous force. At one point he created a hole so deep into his wall that it briefly let a ray of sunshine crash into his living room, blinding him and requiring him to sit down for several minutes while he stopped seeing flashing colors.

were in his house or on his ceiling to begin with. At this moment, everything came crashing back to him at once. He was reminded of everything he’d ever done, all the people he’d ever hurt, and every reason why no one would come to save him. The feeling in his heart changed. Instead of an itch that was impossible to quell, Gael felt as if his heart was welling up in tears. He understood one thing without a shadow of a doubt in his mind. That night was to be his last night in this world of perpetual devastation.

Perhaps it was to be a little brighter without the stain of him in it. He watched the ghostly fog of the specters slowly fade away, and immediately got up. With an inhuman sense of assurance and determination, he went downstairs to his garage and picked up a gasoline tank he had left there in case of emergency. Before long, the house was doused in gasoline, down to the foundations on which it stood. Everything was covered, except for his bedroom. Gael thought about everything once more, and with all the confidence of the He did not get a single second of sleep universe, he dropped the match that that night. He tossed and turned in his was to erase everything about him bed waiting to see if he would, by from the face of the earth. Before some miracle, find some rest. Instead, succumbing to the flames, he he saw something that he had never reentered his bedroom, and with a seen before. Staring up from his bed, rising numbness that was only he saw several specters engaged in a becoming more intense and slowly sort of slow dance on his ceiling. They enveloping all of his senses, he didn’t seem to notice him at all, grabbed the loaded handgun he perhaps not even knowing that they always kept on his bedside table and 17

shot himself directly through his heart, knowing for sure that, if anything, he would be seen on the news and then never again. While Gael’s corpse lay lifeless, awaiting its inevitable incineration, its inside was determined to achieve peace. Slowly, a long line of ants exited his body through the bullet hole that pierced his heart. In perfect order, these ants picked up Gael’s body and carried it out through his now missing home and deposited it on the sidewalk in front of where his house used to be. Once done, the ants reentered his corpse and carried out a tiny glowing mass, which seemed to evaporate in the night air and rise into the sky, merging with the stars and disappearing from the earth.

drew any attention to it, viewing it as if it was part of the environment. It was only until someone who lived far away outside the neighborhood saw it and reported it with a complete lack of alarm or shock. When the autopsy was performed, the only true sort of decomposition to his body had occurred to his face, which seemed as though it was unrecognizable and unattributable to any other human who had ever lived. The autopsy concluded that his internal organs had been run by a colony of ants, and that they performed most of the processes needed to keep him alive. The report ended with a simple sentence.

“It is highly likely that the patient has always been like this.”

Gael’s house was completely destroyed before anyone could notice its fierce incineration. What was perhaps most curious about the event was that no one heard or saw any of the destruction taking place. Many even claimed that there never existed a house there in the first place. The one constant among all of the potential witnesses of the disaster was that they all claimed that the house had never been inhabited. Gael’s corpse was also not autopsied until several days after he had died. It seemed as though his body was immune to any sort of typical decomposition. His corpse had seemed so insignificant and unknown to his neighborhood that none of them 18

CATHERINE COOK ‘26

It Was Just a Pomegranate: Kore Blessed child, my daughter, my love.

My first memories consist of endless fields, flowers blooming alongside my every step, bugs dispersing as I went, and flying off to find a new place to nestle, though I know they did not fault me, as I was loved by all things alive. My grandmother came alive beneath my feet, swaying reeds by the riverside, the whistle and moan of the wind on stormy nights, the creak and groans of the trees, the grassy knolls that swayed in the gentle summer breeze; I was loved, and I was blessed.

Blooms appeared in my wake, the gentle yet chilly breeze walked alongside me, grass bloomed amongst the melting frost, and granted me birth as I walked along. The land coated with a blanket of warmth and joviality wherever I went, I was love, akin to my aunt, yet for the earth, I loved her, and she adored me, as did my mother. Oh, Mother. Mother mine, so dear to me, so loving, so giving, she was one of the most joyous goddesses I had ever met, bringing prosperity with her wherever she deemed to go, 19

similar to me, just with grain and growth and fertility. Once she described my birth as her heart being tugged from her chest, and given legs and arms, suddenly walking and breathing, smiling and laughing.

Though that was long ago, ere I dwelled below the earth for six months at a time, tortuous, arduous, dark and glum months; there are no blooms here, no life, no beauty; only death, and him.

At the beginning, I had not known what pain, nor suffering was, I would not know the word even if I were told its meaning; I could not comprehend such emotions. Oh, how I wish it remained so. Mother was protective, though never smothering, never to me.

I was her treasure, and she vowed never to lose me to the cruelties of the world; if only she had understood that in our family, such a promise is folly.

My cruel and unfeeling uncle, as I recall him, the one that I had never quite seen, dwelled amongst the stars; far above in Olympus. He, in all his aloof ignorance, permitted the union

of myself and my unfeeling husband, my ever step, the flowers seem dim stated it outright; however, he and distant, the satyr's hymns muted withheld such information from his and far away, the nymphs twirls and dear sister, my mother, whom he had swoops blurring into one massive blur never much cared for from my of blues and greens and whites; how I understanding. He had not the yearn for the freedom from his grasp, decency to inform her of his allowing of which I cannot seem to escape for her most precious treasure, to be from. He trails on even in my married off to the brute, ruler of the memories, he has ruined me. underworld. The one that had lost long ago the draw long ago, from trident, to Six pomegranate seeds, rodi. Six. lightning bolt, to helm. The sea, the Starved and desperate, in this new and heavens, and the underworld. I can not strange land, he trapped me, as eating stand to even summon up the word, food from this land is a curse in itself; my damnation for being naïve and and inextricably binding. Meanwhile, young, and falling to his soft and above on the sweet fields I has left manipulative vices and cursing myself behind, my mother lost her mind. She and the world for eternity. tore root from trunk and leaf from branch in her wrath, informed by the Kore, maiden, it is what they called sun, Helios, that I had been taken as me. The nymphs, mother, it was my he had witnessed the entire incident name, it was all I was ever meant to from far above, in his divine chariot. be. A maiden, innocent and pure, to She wept and mourned me, leaving all frolic in fields of beautiful and aromatic bare in her wake. Eventually, her ire flowers, to bring forth joy and turned to dejection, to an irrevocable tenderness wherever I treaded; he sadness, and she ceased all life and stole that from me. Stole me away growth, creating the seasons of from her, mother, the nymphs, my autumn, and winter. The people began family, my felicity, my home. to call her wicked, and I soon became Deflowered and beaten, blooms no to be known as Persephone, “Bringer longer appear where I now lay, grass of Death,” for when I was gone far does not grow, the gentle breeze does below, mother refused to allow life and not blow, nothing grows in this all turned frigid and unfeeling, a desolate and barren wasteland far monotonous landscape of pale blues, beneath the earth; all that exists here whites, and deep grey’s. He cared not is misery and woe, and my dearest though, my husband, Hades. He called husband. Even when I return above it me his queen, allowed me to rule is no longer the same, the joy is alongside him. Though I turned cold shadowed by him, his existence trails over time, 20

scathing, bitter; and his eyes trailed elsewhere. There were two, yet I remember one the best, Minthe, the first. Upon discovering this treachery, my woe turned to rage, to claim me and trap me in this misery, to then find a new plaything; it was unacceptable. There was little left of her, I fear, all that was left was a little plant that the mortals call, “Mint.” The second was Leuce, I did not touch her as she kept him away from me for a great long while, I did not care much for her. I also had no anger remaining in my heart, simply hollow aches for the past and the ardent desire to return to the overworld. Where I belong, where I yearn to be, the only place where this dull ache can be placated, mollified, though never remedied. He stripped a blossom from its motherland and expected it to flourish, to then be surprised as it withered.

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ELISA JUNG ‘26

Emma’s Cottage House Emma had recently graduated from college, in fact, one was the best colleges in the world. She had gotten a diploma from NYU as a finance major, and she was proud to maintain a 4.0 GPA over her 4 years of college.

However, the past following months after graduation were different from what she had expected. She had sent countless job applications, and this repeated, reckless steps of attaching a resume and motivational letter, and talking in the interview if lucky, made her wonder about all those sugarcoated words regarding her college.

What do you mean that NYU is a highway to success in your future?

Was their definition of success somewhat different? Had she missed out on internships and extracurricular activities that all her friends have done secretly? What was Emma supposed to do now, who was left without a job but thousands of dollars of student loans to pay? As her mind started to get preoccupied with those worried thoughts, Emma received a call from an unknown number.

The details from the call made Emma wonder if this was a dream. She was given a job offer from an insurance company in Oregon. The only

downside of it was that she had to move to a completely new state, very far and different from New York, but these kinds of things did not matter to her now. As long as she was offered a job, Emma was ready to take it, regardless of what it would take her.

This was about to be a whole new chapter of Emma’s life. Everything from that on seemed to be flowing smoothly, without causing her a hassle. Her current landlord did not require any extra charges for terminating her contract in the middle of it, but instead congratulated her when Emma told the landlord about why she had to move out. Getting a house in Oregon was easy too. There was a house that was out for rent for only 300 dollars per month, which was nearly half of the usual rent cost in the area.

Despite moving to a completely new side of the country that Emma had never experienced, she was excited to pursue her Pinterest dream life, in a cute cottage house, with high grasses, flowers everywhere, and fruit and vegetable gardens in her backyard.

The house came with a decent-sized backyard and four garden beds, which was more than enough for Emma, who

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was just getting into gardening. As soon as she moved to her new house in Oregon, she went to a gardening shop and bought various tools and seeds to get started. She waited a few days for the right weather, and when the vibrant rays of sunshine woke her up on a fine Tuesday morning, Emma decided that today was the day.

Thanks to the previous tenant’s gardening work, there wasn’t that much work that had to be done. She lightly plowed the dirt and placed different types of vegetables, fruits, and flower seeds that she bought last week, then thoroughly watered the soil.

there was some odd smell, and the color was a bit darker red than the typical brown color of the soil.

Renovating her garden with new soil seemed to be an appropriate solution for this issue, so that afternoon, Emma went to Home Depot and bought gallons of gardening soil.

Emma laid out a huge sack where she would put the old dirt into it, and just like the first day she started gardening, she put on her boots, hat, and gloves and started working. She started from the top of her garden bed and was trying to dig as deep as possible to get rid of every bit of dirt that might have been hindering her All of Emma’s plants seemed to be crop growth. But for some reason, it thriving for the first couple of days. was unreasonably hard to dig deeper Emma was glad to see all the cute little than 3 inches or so, even though she sprouts poking their head out of the was far from reaching the bottom of soil and thought to herself that she the garden bed. Eager to make her must have a green thumb. All her garden perfect this time, she struck seeds would sprout and start growing, the shovel deep into the soil. At that but none could make it out of the moment, her shovel made a scraping seedling phase. Was she watering her sound against something underneath. garden too often? Was it not fertilized She carefully dug the areas around to enough? She started researching reveal it. It was something white and gardening communities in hopes of hard, which she first assumed it was a finding a solution to her garden. big rock, but as she dug around it, it According to various experts and was quite bigger than what a usual experienced gardeners, one of the rock would be. What could this be? most common reasons for hindered She tried to pull out the white, big, crop growth was the soil. So, Emma solid piece underneath the soil to stepped outside to her garden and examine it better. Then, when she got carefully examined her soil. The soil a fine sight of it, her brain immediately was fairly warm, which indicated good recognized what this might be. With active microorganisms inside, but her abnormally beating heart, she 23

rubbed her eyes to make sure she saw it right. She indeed did. It was a bone.

Not some leftover chicken bones that someone had thrown into their backyard, but a skull, quite large enough to be a person’s skull. Emma’s heart was beating even faster, her hands started shaking with fear, and her eyes started to fill up with tears. Why was there a whole human skull in her garden?

Emma thought about calling the police to help further examine this matter, but what if the police found Emma suspicious? Her hands shaking with both curiosity and fear, Emma continued digging. In the end, she refused to believe the unbelievable scene in her backyard. There was a whole human corpse buried in it, all 206 bones in order. Emma's mind was about to black out as she panicked. She suddenly felt like she had forgotten how to breathe. Yes, there was a whole dead body in her backyard but, how would she know that this body isn't the only one? How does she know why and who did this? Will Emma be the next one, lying down in these garden beds?

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LUCY NOH ‘26

The New Life In a country torn apart by the civil war, there lived a boy named Malik. He spent his days in chaos, where the streets echoed with the thunderous footsteps of the army, the heartdropping sounds of the gun, and the wails of grieving mothers. Malik, with his youthful thoughts, always dreamed of a life beyond the suffocating war.

Each night, under the dim flicker of a candle, Malik would grab anything he could find near him, sketching out his dreams of a normal day after the war ended. He drew open fields with flowers under the gentle sun, kids running around laughing with each other, and a clear sky adorned with stars instead of smoke. As the day passed, Malik’s wish to escape grew stronger, fueled by his grief over the loss of his dearest people, including his parents. He longed for peace, a sanctuary where he and others could enjoy their normal lives.

and across the fields, Malik navigated the scarred landscape of his homeland. His spirit remained undeterred despite the hunger, thirst, tiredness, and challenges that he faced. Along the way, he encountered fellow wanderers, each bearing their own scars of the conflict yet united by a shared desire for peace. They accompanied each other through the journey and through the dark nights.

They became closer and closer soon, resembling a family.

Finally, after going through all the hardships they faced before and during the journey, they could see a sanctuary nestled amidst the mountains. The atmosphere was just perfect. Surrounded by the sound of nature, shifting winds, and, most importantly, out of war. Here, in this untouched haven, Malik started a new beginning. As the sun dipped below the horizon, with the sky filled with red and gold, Malik stood atop a hill where It was one morning, the sun timidly he could see his newfound sanctuary. peeking over the horizon, when Malik With tears of gratitude in his eyes, he made a vow to himself. With whispered a silent prayer for those still determination burning in his chest like trapped in the war and for those who a flame refusing to be extinguished, he had already left the world during the set out on a journey to find refuge war. from the war. Through desolate paths 25

“So that’s how I escaped from the war.” Malik was now an eighty-two-year-old man who sat in a park all day long, talking to people coming by. He told his life stories to little kids who came along just before the sun started disappearing below the horizon. Although this was the only story that the kids were told, they always asked him again and again. Malik himself loved sharing his stories too, reminding him of the new family created during the journey, the challenges they faced along the way, and the relief after reaching his goal.

26

MARIA JOSE GUTIERREZ ‘26

Koi With its gills palpitating and small fins swaying through the water, the small yet majestic creature glided along the stream without a single worry in its mind. The man's gaze was fixed upon the slightly orange scales of the fish's skin. He had seen this specific Koi before and had appreciated its beauty every day after work; the long hours at the fish market had enlarged his knowledge of the anatomy of this critter. The two pairs of fins differentiated this species from the fish he sold, it made it special.

fish was stationed at the bottom of the pond, leaving an ambiguous health condition. As he leaned closer into the steady waters, he felt the urge to jump in and rescue the small animal.

With his heart pounding in determination to save the fish, Doitsu waded through the water until he reached the bottom of the pond. He had never realized how deep it was.

Amidst the cool embrace of the natural pool, he remembered everything he would have to do when he went to The young man’s preferred method of work that day. His thoughts centered passing time in his hometown, Suzhou, on the tedious obligations of cleaning was dedicating long moments of his fish stand and directing the new admiration for this animal. His mother workers he hired the week before. had named him after her favorite Koi Ignoring these stressful reflections, he species, Doitsu. Through long hours of reached out to scoop up the struggling deep contemplations within this small fish. Yet as he grabbed the dying pond, he found the serene beauty creature, he felt a sudden sensation of within the natural habitat of this intense disorientation. It was as if he minute being. had lost all consciousness within the time he had spent inside the pond.

Although times had always been Desperate to reach safety, Daotsi peaceful in the small pond amidst the staggered through the water, each coast of China, turbulence reigned step more harrowing than the last. over his parade one peculiar morning. Curiously, the weight of the fish in his As he woke up to check on the bank of arms pulled him down, dragging him fish, he noticed that one had been down to the depths of the pond. immobile for a while. The poor lone koi 27

His vision had completely dimmed, and his lungs starved for air. He clung to the fading image of the koi fish, its scales glimmering in the glint of sunlight. He appreciated the joyous afternoons it had provided. With a last, desperate gasp, Daotsi succumbed to the calm embrace of the water. As the ripples smoothed over the surface, the town mourned the loss of a man who had given his life to a single, insignificant, Koi fish.

28

MAURO VERGATI ‘26

Fiction “It was never your fault…” an empty statement said much too late. In front of him, the receiving end, already met its mortality. Grey skies loomed over the scenery. A sense of guilt overcame the lone father accompanying his son’s grave. In between overgrown blades of grass read “Nikolas Johnson”. He knelt, soaking his black pants in the morning dew as he carefully arranged an assortment of red and white roses.

Planting them between the wildflowers which swallowed the grave.

Desperation came to him as he hastily removed the overgrown weeds. Specs of dirt and grass now stuck to his blazer as he regretfully stared at the mess he just created. Making matters worse, it reminded him of the tragedy which occurred 2 years ago. He stood up, tears slid down his cheeks and as with a sudden realization grimly said, “It was never your fault, it was mine.”

was already an incredibly frustrated man, he was frustrated at himself for not achieving his goal and was driven to abuse his son just for a glimpse of success.

It was on his 3 birthdays that Nikola received his first vehicle, a used Kart haphazardly assembled and barely functioning. The Kart for such a young child was exhilarating, this was the time where he created a bond with driving, but more importantly Nikola was able to see his father’s cheerful glee each time he lapped around a makeshift racetrack without knocking any of the cones down. This would be the healthiest point in their father-son relationship. Nikola’s first race had a lackluster result, his inexperience and underwhelming kart had left him in last place. Nikola’s greatest motivator after this race was his father’s acceptance, the same he felt when he was a young Even before Nikolas had been born, his child. life was already mapped out for him.

His father, a mediocre F1 pilot set out “Don’t make any excuses, it was your to embed his dream in his son. Nikola’s fault.” This phrase accompanied any mother, was absent throughout his defeat in his young career. Nikolas was upbringing, increasing his father indoctrinated to desire his dad’s influence as his only parental figure. dreams. He was homeschooled, it was His father, by nature deemed to be a waste of time. Instead, he would spend his day learning about 29

cars. Memorizing the apexes of each track. Learning the specification of each vehicle. Training to withstand the G forces endured during professional races.

When he was 17 years old in his first year in Formula 1, he was signed by Ferrari. His father, however, was not contempt with his prodigy. Every race, he would intervene, criticize his son’s ability reminding “A mistake, it’s always your fault.” Nikolas endured, distracted by the fame and the fancy hotels. He was happy, at least by his definition, which was to be accepted by his father.

however, he was manipulated. He increased his speed. Too fast. The fiery obstacle in front of him brought panic to the driver. He swerved away. His rear tire was stolen by the fiery mess, despite his maneuver. He couldn’t control the car. It was too late; Nikola knew that it was going to be his end.

He braced for the impact while accepting his defeat. He blamed himself and his father did too. When his body was recovered, his father could still be heard ranting about his useless son on the radio. He was mistaken however, it wasn’t his son’s fault it was his.

20 of the best drivers lined up on a rainy morning as the Interlagos Grand Prix is about to begin. Nikolas was ranked second out of those 20.

However, it was not enough, and he was reminded of this. Laps fly by as he can maintain second place. He was stuck, the car front wing was damaged. A fire around 500 meters ahead of him broke out. He was first, yet the fire came from one of the drivers who crashed and partially blocked part of the track. He slowed down, to avoid the incoming flame. His father, somehow, managed to connect to the team radio. He did not like the cautionary approach. He demanded to increase his speed to maintain his privileged position at first. They argued back and forth, Nikolas fighting for his safety. Just as before, 30

OCEAN SANTIAGO ‘26

Short Text I sit as my grandmother gently combs my hair, as I read to her for the first time. Behind me she is gently smiling every time I make up a word. The laughter in the other room shifts my focus, and I begin to measure. I smile and I continue, even though the words look blurry, and I cannot understand their meaning yet, my heart feels soft, and it mustn’t end, and so I read. I read eternally.

I lay in the hammock, a repetitive motion, so familiar, and of course, the moment is measured. I read. I read out of desperation, for a moment that holds the power to determine my entire life. I read until my head begins to ache and there are pins pinching my eyes. I read out of passion and determination, for a moment that feels immortal.

I lay alone, my mind too quiet, my I sit in the car and read, the thoughts too empty. A time where a reminiscing of the departure so acid it blank page could seem so confusing. I burns my insides, the destination so must measure. A poem about yellow tasteless it numbs my limbs. So I begin flours and the sweet wind that sways to measure. I measure the moment. I them, a poem about the importance of measure to see how much strength it change, and the fading light of the sun. will take to become compressed, but About the beauty that lies within a sometimes I measure how far the book with cracked frames and brown moment will stretch. How far it is from wrinkled pages. I sit and read my reach, and how long it will allow me eternally, over and over until the to manipulate it, until it is completely words blur together and I can no mangled, and has sucked every ounce longer understand their incandescent of energy from my body. This moment, meaning. painful and resilient. I beg for its end, and so I read. I read until the pages I read because I must. Over and over begin to crumble, and the words begin and over, to run from the moment, and to blur together, and I no longer feel to keep it. To learn and to forget, to be so helpless. A moment so calm I could present and to escape. Because when stay in it forever. the words begin to blur together, I feel my heart soften, and I no longer feel the need to measure.

31

RHEA CHUGANI ‘26

For the Better “A challenge awaits you in the near future”, the fortune cookie slip read.

She stared at it for a minute before crumpling it up and shoving it into her bag. She didn’t have time to focus on future inquiries that she had yet to face. Picking up the fortune cookie from the table, she broke it into pieces and fed it to the birds on the sidewalk.

Carbohydrates, simple sugars, were what her coaches referred to as “empty calories”. They wouldn’t nourish her for the huge competition she had ahead.

she had never been better.

The night before she traveled, she looked at herself in the mirror and made a promise with her reflection that this competition would reflect all the hard work she had put in. Her bag was already fully packed and had been that way for the past week. Her clothes were prepared, her alarm was set, and she was ready to sleep. Although, that was the issue. She couldn’t. Not with all the voices in her head or the tingling feeling that she wished would disappear. Too much was at stake, too The seventeen-year-old Argentinian much could change. This was her key elite gymnast, Natalia Torres, took her to an even greater competitive world. sport quite seriously. She had been in The unstoppable flow of thoughts in gymnastics since she was two years her head was so chaotic that without old, and after a long journey alongside her noticing, she had fallen asleep. the sport, she accomplished qualification into the Pan-American Landing in Peru, she inhaled the fresh, games. She had been training for the crisp air and admired the beauty of the competition for a series of months, and country she would be staying in for the over the course of this time, it had week ahead. The environment swept taken over her life. She rarely hung out away any nerves that had built up with her friends, her grades had within her, and she felt free. The dropped from excellent to mediocre, landscape was among the most and her diet was stricter than ever. On beautiful she had seen. The beautiful the contrary, she trained for thirty greenery, in perfect contrast with the hours weekly, and it reflected blue sky, and he most gorgeous enormously on her performance. She marshmallow clouds. Besides the and all those around her knew that 32

natural landscape, the architecture was beautifully designed, and she couldn’t believe that among those buildings was the hotel she would be staying at.

Although, it was time to focus. She checked into her hotel room and was greeted by some of the other teams’ coaches. They gave her the directions she had to follow in order to get to the gymnasium that she would be competing in. She got dressed and started walking over there. It was a five-minute walk, and she was astounded by the sight of the gym. It was bigger than she had ever imagined. Entering, she identified each apparatus: bars, beam, vault, and floor. Gymnasts were scattered across the stadium, flipping, twisting, spinning, it was an extraordinary sight.

The competition would take place the following night. Natalia went to sleep early, to achieve good rest and recovery from the training earlier in the day. She wanted to be energized for the day she had ahead. Natalia was ready to win.

When she woke up, she checked her phone and saw texts from her parents wishing her the best of luck even though “she wouldn’t need it”. She felt a rush of confidence after being reassured by her practices the day before. Although she was nervous because she realized that she had competition which could challenge her path to victory. For breakfast she met up with her fellow gymnast friends and an egg white scramble was prepared for them. A high protein breakfast, perfect for competition day. Since they were so nervous, they didn’t have This motivated Natalia to start much of an appetite, but managed to warming up. She stretched and finish their portions anyway. Together, practiced prep drills before practicing the gymnasts walked over to the her routines. She started on bars, then gymnasium for a pre-warmup and one progressed to beam, followed by vault, final practice before the competition. and last floor. Her routines were Natalia wanted to store as much looking spectacular, so much so that energy possible for the night, so she she caught other gymnasts staring at would only be warming up and her, mesmerized. These gymnasts watching the other gymnasts practice. became her friends with whom she She didn’t want to discourage herself walked back to the hotel with. Even and lower her confidence after her though they knew they’d be competing previous practice. against each other, they couldn’t help admiring each other’s skill and talent, Sooner than they expected, it was time so they grew close. for the final competition warm up. All the gymnasts that would be 33

competing across a variety of levels gathered onto the main floor for a final group warm up. They began with stretches, progressing into leaps, turns, and finally tumbling. To Natalia, there was no feeling quite like the feeling of competing. It was exhilarating, nerve-wracking, and beyond everything, so much fun.

The following apparatuses were bars and floor, each of which she executed smoothly. She scored a 9.6 on bars and 9.7 on floor. Overall, she was in second place, behind by 0.3 points.

She still had a chance to make it to 1st place. It all depended on her next rotation, beam. This was her favorite apparatus; she had grown up a “beam queen” and remained so to that day.

Natalia’s nerves began to build up The judges raised the green flag and once again as the gymnasts were the scoring commenced as her hands being divided into rotations. She was touched the beam. She performed informed that she would be starting on turns, leaps, and skills to perfection vault. That was okay for her, being the and was on the way to a perfect ten. element that passed by the quickest.

The last part of her routine, the final She reminded herself that all her work element of her dismount was a full led up to this point and she was ready twist. She approached the skill from a to win. They had one vault warmup roundoff and then it felt as if she had round; she watched the girls she would been absorbed into the skill, but when be competing against execute flawless she opened her eyes, she was no routines. It was then time for her longer in the gymnasium. warmup, every step she took, was a step of greater confidence. She She woke up in a room with white reached the vault executed her routine walls, and people slowly flooded in. and landed standing, with a singular She was in a state of complete step out. Before the competition confusion and distress. What round, she inhaled, exhaled, happened? Did she stick it? Did she accommodated into preparation win? Where were the scoreboards? position, waiting for the judges to raise There was no simple or easy way to the green flag. It was over within a answer any of her questions. A woman nanosecond, the next thing she heard dressed in light blue clothing were roaring cheers from the crowd, approached her, within seconds she she had stuck the landing. Looking figured out that this woman was a over at the score board there was a doctor. The doctor informed her that 9.875 marked next to her name, she was currently in a hospital in Peru putting her in 1st place. An excellent and was brought in by the paramedics score, but was it good enough to win it from the competition gymnasium. She all? was told that when she landed her 34

beam dismount, one of her legs had completely twisted and she had torn her anterior cruciate ligament, or ACL. Seconds later she fell backwards, her head hit the hard mat, and she passed out. Natalia was speechless. Even after everything happened, she still wanted to know how the competition ended, but she couldn’t manage to say the words. Looking up, she saw her parents who had flown in to take care of her. They knew how much she had wanted to win, and she didn’t even need to ask before they told her, that even after her fall, she had managed to achieve 2nd place. She was disappointed and wanted to be alone to grieve, but she knew better than that. She opened her purse and searched for her phone to call her friends from home, but before she could get to it, she found a slip of paper. “A challenge awaits you in the near future”, it read. This, was not in the slightest, the challenge she had anticipated, it was much worse.

Natalia wanted to break down and die.

Gymnastics was her dream; it had become her life. This information was unbelievable and completely unreal to her.

It took a while to sink in, but within a few months Natalia was already getting better. She had processed the fact that if she went back to gymnastics, it would take everything in her to get back to the level she was at.

Slowly, she began to ponder if she had anything more to give, if she wanted to take anymore risks. She knew that going back to gymnastics would mean that, she would be more vulnerable to injuries, after tearing her ACL. There was high probability that she’d have to start from zero again. In the months of recovery, she slowly detached herself from the absorption she was experiencing into the sport and the extreme power it had over her. She knew that a huge part of her was gymnastics, but it wasn’t all of her.

Possibility awaited her in all directions.

If she wanted to continue excelling in She could redirect her life in a new gymnastics, she needed to figure out direction and go to college and get a how to get past this injury. Could she degree, while maybe even doing even walk? Surely it couldn’t be that gymnastics sporadically. It was a part serious, but no, she realized that it was of her she knew she couldn’t let go. It when she collapsed straight onto the didn’t work like that for her, it wasn’t floor. The doctors helped her up and easy when she had been working explained to her that it wouldn’t be an toward that goal her whole life. easy injury to recover from and would take at least a year before she could Although she realized that she would begin rebuilding strength and never be able to fully detach from the practicing skills. In that moment, 35

sport and its hold on her heart, it didn’t have to be her only focus in life. She would always know gymnastics as a beautiful, captivating, perfectly balanced sport. Though she now understood through her own experience, how it could take over her life. The sport taught her so many things and made her the person she became, but it was time to loosen the tie it had on her. Natalia Torres was once an extraordinary gymnast, and part of her would always be one. She reminded herself, one last time, that it was for the better.

36

SOFIA FITZPATRICK ‘26

Keep Going She continued along the forest path, feeling cold and wet, her body drained of energy and fatigue clouding her mind. Deep within the heart of the forest, enclosed by the whispering leaves and the gnarly branches reaching for her, a lone girl dragged herself forward on the winding trail.

Her breath visible in the chilly air, and her clothes damp from the drizzle that would not stop.

journey. The terrain would become bumpier. If there was a river in her way, there would never be a bridge to help her cross. The leaves would blow into her face and the sound of frightening animals would follow her. It seemed the farther she went in, the worse it all got for her. Keep going, that voice would implore.

Occasionally, she would find the bones of someone who could not keep going Despite her bones cold to the core and through this terrible forest. Terrifying weariness buckling down on her, she thoughts would slip into her mind and continues. There is only one way out of make her knees weak. She kept going, here going back is not an option, there there was only one way out of here. is nothing to go back to. The girl can She would not be a victim of this push on or stand still, but she cannot forest, she refused. turn back. She has been walking for such a long time that the soles of her The girl thought of the events that shoes are worn, her hair sticks to her brought her here to these forehead, and her heart breaks with circumstances, that forced her to go each step. Keep going, the wind through this alone. It made her mad, whistled, urging her on. There is only so unbelievably mad. Keep going, so one way out of here, and she refused she did. Hiking on, she pushed all bad to stay forever. thoughts out and focused on what she would be like once she was done, once Her resilience carried her on, forcing she survived this. Despite the cold and her to never look back. The forest was the rain, she smiled. against her. With trees suddenly growing in her way, she would have to Finally, the light was visible at the end step around them. The rain would pour of a tunnel of tree branches. Keep harder in certain parts of her going, the voice whispered, weaker 37

now. She walked faster now, not caring if she tripped. The walk grew rougher with each step, the branches flying out from all directions and scratching at her arms, the rain pouring harder. The forest was making its last attempt at breaking her, but she saw the end and she was not going to give up now.

The space opened, the rain stopped, the trees grew softer, and the ground became even. A sigh of relief and then the realization she had her life back again.

38

NONFICTION

ISAAC WRIGHT-MUELLER ‘24

Kafkiano hablar, escribir, y tomarse un trago Un Viaje Transatlántico se Vuelve fuera de la obra de Kafka, pero la Kafkiano; Una ‘Red de Seguridad’ que es un Desastre Kafkiano; Teresa May, el manera de la cual presenta este hecho Kafkiano Primer Ministro Británico. hace que el lector lo considere casi Kafkiano kafkiano kafkiano. Si has normal. Esta distorsión de la realidad estado leyendo las noticias, notarás en su obra, refleja lo absurdo que era y que, por lo menos en inglés, esta aún es la vida cotidiana, y nos lleva al palabra ha emergido más de lo debido. próximo tema de su literatura, el Se ha vuelto un cliché, usado para existencialismo. describir cualquier situación que sea desagradable o agobiante, cuando El existencialismo es un término debería referirse a sólo las situaciones general que abarca el movimiento más desoladas, donde no solo se filosófico a inicios del siglo XX, que pierde de manera absurda la intenta brindar razón a la vida esperanza, sino también la humanidad. humana. Dentro del existencialismo, Ha sido mal interpretada y mal usada hay varios movimientos, pero el que hasta quedar completamente retorcida Kafka seguía era el absurdismo, la idea de su significado inicial. Hay algunas de que la vida no tiene significado. posibles razones por la cual esto habrá Según una cita suya, Dios creó la pasado, incluyendo la flojera que la humanidad en uno de sus “malos días” vida moderna causa. Pero la razón (cita traducida). Esto nos ayuda a principal es porque lo que la palabra explicar la intervención de lo imposible describe, es decir, la obra de Kafka, es en sus novelas, porque si la vida y la imposible definir o encajonar. realidad no tienen significado, entonces convertirse en una El primer aspecto de la literatura de cucaracha no es gran cosa, solo Kafka es el surrealismo, a veces acelera el fin de una vida desbordándose al absurdismo. Esto es insignificante. La influencia del visible en sus cuentos La Metamorfosis absurdismo en los escritos de Kafka e Informe para una Academia, donde también se puede ver en el narrador, nos presenta situaciones imposibles que, aunque no es el mismo en todos en escenarios completamente reales. sus textos, mantiene la misma Nunca encontrarás un mono que sepa indiferencia y objetividad, producto de 40

la idea de que nada de lo que está narrando tiene significado.

Pero para los críticos modernos, estos narradores no podrían ser más incorrectos, porque por cada cuento de Kafka hay una centena de críticos buscando significado en cada palabra.

Una de las relaciones más comunes que encuentran es la influencia de la vida de Kafka en sus obras. Algunas de las obras, como El Juicio, La Metamorfosis, y En la Colonia Penitenciaria tienen elementos casi autobiográficos. En El Juicio, por ejemplo, los personajes se pueden considerar proyecciones de diferentes partes del cerebro de Kafka. Georg representa el Kafka que es abogado y enamorado de Felice Bauer, el amigo en San Petersburgo representa la parte de él que es autor, y el padre representa su subconsciente. En vida, Kafka no podrá ser exitoso y seguir su pasión por escribir, y en el cuento tampoco lo logrará.

por las violaciones de los derechos humanos. Los textos de Kafka, intencionalmente o no, se volvieron proféticos.

Por último, todos los escritos de Kafka que he leído, sin excepción, son permeados por una sensación de inquietud inspirada mayormente en lo grotesco. Especialmente Un Médico Rural y En la Colonia Penitenciaria, donde hechos sangrientos y repugnantes son descritos con lujo de detalle por un narrador infinitamente pasivo. Esto es principalmente para infundir en el lector el mensaje de las obras, como la crueldad de los sistemas tradicionales ejemplificadas por la máquina en En la Colonia Penitenciaria. Además, la normalización de lo grotesco apoya

¿Entonces qué fue lo que escribió Kafka? Sus textos son surrealistas, existencialistas, absurdistas, autobiográficos, y grotescos, con toques del realismo mágico y rasgos Las obras de Kafka también tienen un proféticos. Son la desesperación de los significado histórico, aunque en la comentaristas, según el título del libro época que Kafka los escribió no pudo escrito por el crítico literario y haber predicho esto. El tema de la profesor emérito de la Universidad de pelea del individuo contra un sistema Princeton, Stanley Corngold, sobre las opresivo e injusto, aparece en su obras de Kafka, porque son imposibles cuento En la Colonia Penitenciaria y en de encajar dentro de un solo sus novelas El Proceso y El Castillo. movimiento. Tienen rasgos de todo lo Décadas después de su muerte, este mencionado y más, tanto que, para tema se viviría en reinos comunistas y poder describirlo, no se pudo usar dictaduras occidentales, que imponían palabras ya existentes. Y así nació la su ley sin dar el más mínimo cuidado palabra hoy tan mal interpretada, 41

“kafkiano”.

Bibliografía: Hibberd, Jl, and Stanley Corngold. “The Commentators’ Despair: The Interpretation of Kafka’s ‘Metamorphosis.’” Modern Language Review, vol. 70, no. 1, Jan. 1975, p. 232. https://doi.org/10.2307/3724977.

Smith-Laing, Tim. “Why the Word ‘Kafkaesque’ Should Be Banished Forever.” The Telegraph, www.telegraph.co.uk/books/what-to-read/franz-kafka-kafkaesque-cliche.

“A Summary and Analysis of Franz Kafka’s ‘The Judgment.’” Interesting Literature, 9 Nov. 2023, interestingliterature.com/2021/07/franz-kafka-the-judgment-summary-analysis.

Wikipedia contributors. “Existentialism.” Wikipedia, 19 Jan. 2024, en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Existentialism#:~:text=Existentialism%20is%20a%20form%20of%20 philosophical%20inquiry%20that,the%20meaning%2C%20purpose%2C%20and%20value %20of%20human%20existence.

Yale University Press. “The Absurdity of Existence: Franz Kafka and Albert Camus.” Yale University Press, 12 Apr. 2022, yalebooks.yale.edu/2015/09/16/the-absurdity-of-existencefranz-kafka-and-albert-camus.

42

DANIELA CHAVARRÍA SALAS ‘25

Moments in Motion Time is a funny thing, isn't it? It's this constant presence in our lives, ticking away in the background like a nagging reminder of our mortality. And lately, I've found myself hating it more than ever.

I mean, think about it - time has this sneaky way of slipping through our fingers, stealing away moments and memories before we even realize they're gone. It's like this relentless force, always pushing us forward whether we're ready or not. And right now, as a junior in high school, I feel its weight more acutely than ever.

something - anything - and hold on for dear life.

And yet, amidst all this chaos, there's this one constant that I can't help but cling on to them. They've been there through it all, from the highs of victory to the lows of defeat. They've laughed with me, cried with me, and stood by my side when I needed them most. In a world that's constantly shifting and changing, they've been my rock, my anchor in the storm.

So yeah, maybe I hate time. Maybe I resent the way it's always pushing me forward, dragging me kicking and Maybe it's because I'm watching those screaming into the unknown. But if in my life prepare to leave, their there's one thing I've learned, it's that futures stretching out before them like time may be relentless, but it's also a an open road. Or maybe it's because I reminder of just how precious the can feel the seconds slipping away moments we truly have are. with every passing day, each one bringing me closer to a future that Because even though time has this feels both exhilarating and terrifying. knack for tearing things apart, it also has a way of bringing new beginnings.

But you know what's even worse than As those in my life embark on their the way time keeps marching on? It's next adventures, I can't help but feel a the way it changes everything around twinge of excitement for what lies us. People come and go, seasons ahead. Sure, things may change, and change, and suddenly, the world looks life may throw us curveballs, but completely different than it did just a there's a certain beauty in the few months ago. It's enough to make unknown, a sense of possibility that you want to scream, to grab onto 43

keeps us moving forward even when the path ahead seems uncertain.

And so, as I bid farewell to my dear friends who have become like family to me, I do so with a heart full of hope. Hope for the friendships that will endure, no matter how far apart we may be. Hope for the memories we've yet to make, and the adventures that await us just around the corner. And most of all, hope for a future where time may be fleeting, but filled with color and smiles, hoping that together we will encounter many more milestones side by side, accepting change one step at a time.

44

ROEUN LEE ‘25

Defending Jacob of the murder weapon, deficiency of Defending Jacob is an American TV miniseries, essentially related to crime scientific evidence, and allegations of and justice. This captivating American Patz.

TV miniseries was based on the novel also named Defending Jacob written by The series begins with the most William Landay. The miniseries respected story of Andy Barber. It manifested itself on April 24, 2020, meticulously describes Andy Barber and the novel was released on January and his family’s social life, manifesting 31, 2012. This TV series delineates an a happy family. He was portrayed as an accused 14-year-old boy and all the exceptional attorney in the suburban legal processes based on the area of Massachusetts. After all of the accusation. It explicitly describes the mysterious cases Andy faced, he deteriorating relationship between encounters an abnormal case: an Jacob and his family members and the interesting yet horrifying murder case tremendous responsibility that must that occurred in his son, Jacob be carried out in a court trial. The main Barber’s, high school. The murdered character of this TV series Jacob body was found in Coldspring Park, Barber was allegedly accused of the right next to Jacob’s school. Andy first-degree murder of Ben Rifkin- a Barber was initially appointed as the classmate of his in McCormick Middle assistant district attorney and the School. The major incident -the investigation leader of Ben Rifkin’s murder of Ben Rifkin- of this series has murder case. However, something heated a contentious debate, whether unexpected rose upon the surface.

Jacob is innocent or not. Researchers Appalling evidence revelation was and engrossed viewers continuously surfaced, appointing Jacob. The motive assert the superiority of each side; was clear too. Jacob was getting however, the evidence supporting the bullied by Ben Rifkin often. As a innocence of Jacob is loftier. People consequence, Andy was who assert the clean hands of Jacob, instantaneously fired from Ben Rifkin’s mostly appoint a pedophile named case and had to experience terrifying Leonard Patz as a criminal. The and unprecedented situations. The evidence proving Jacob’s innocence is public and the media started to harass superior to the shreds of evidence of the Barbers, manifesting how Jacob’s grievance due to the absence 45

fatiguing court processes are. The been made, stating that he has killed family and Jacob’s lawyer strive to Ben Rifkin, excusing Jacob’s prove Jacob’s innocence. For instance, accusation. This put the trial to an end. while preparing for the trial, Jacob's Although Jacob was free from a lawyer seeks DNA evidence that might continuous investigation by the police, establish Jacob possesses a "murder the movie reveals that the confession gene" that renders him less guilty of of Patz was imposed. It appears that the crime (downgrading the charge Andy’s father ordered a friend to from homicide to manslaughter). To be threaten and accordingly murder Patz able to accomplish this, Andy had to after the false confession was written. contact his father- a sinister murderer As an aforementioned factor, this who had raped and murdered a 19confusing ending leaves a contention year-old girl- to be able to obtain and whether Jacob is innocent or not. As compare his murder gene. This was explained before, multiple evidence arduous work for Andy. Andy has had reveals, sometimes appointing Jacob, no relationship with his father and he Patz, or other minor characters in the and formed a barrier between them series. For instance, the pieces of when Andy was an infant. After evidence that accuse Jacob are the contemplation, Andy decided to meet fingerprint on Ben’s collar, the his father but failed to receive the flashback Laurie experienced about sample. Nevertheless, Laurie-Andy’s Jacob’s violence, and so forth. wife- persuaded him for the sample.

However, these pieces of evidence are She was successful in doing so and all circumstantial and are not factual ultimately received the DNA sample of evidence. Again, this essay is asserting Andy’s father. After all these incidents, the innocence of Jacob. the trial finally starts. The barber's family faces off a prosecutor named One piece of evidence that is portrayed Neal Lojudice, a former coworker of in the series that can disprove Jacob’s Andy before his career came to an end. accusation is the fact that the murder Lojudice brought up significant weapon was never discovered. The evidence about a story that was murder weapon is considered posted on a website, that virtually prominent to discover, especially when convinced the juries and the judge. murder crimes occur. Fingerprints, This story was posted by Jacob DNA, and other scientific evidence are delineating what is assumed to be a copious on the murder weapon. written synopsis of the crime scene of Investigators also can figure out the Jacob murdering Ben. However, location of the murderer and the fact shocking news approaches the trial. A that the dead body was an outcome of confession of Patz has been a murder or suicide. The 46

physical evidence-murder weapon is the initial priority and king in criminal law. Physical evidence is always free of prejudice, factual, and precise. The goal of a crime scene investigation is to help determine what happened and to identify the person responsible. The capacity to notice and gather physical evidence is frequently crucial in both solving and prosecuting violent crimes(McShane). This is the essential reason why a murder weapon has to be discovered and meticulously assessed. However, in Ben Rifkin’s case, no murder weapon was found.

This significantly reinforces the innocence of Jacob. Without a murder weapon, investigators will have absolutely no information on the location of the criminal or scientific evidence that appoints a certain person. Therefore, Jacob’s innocence is reinforced by the fact that the murder weapon was not found.

the nuclear DNA analysis. This report asserts that all other forensic sciences, especially fingerprints are not accurate. One of the primary causes of these high mistake rates is that fingerprint analysis includes human judgment and is based on a methodology (known as "ACE-V") that is insufficient to assure the correctness and dependability of an examiner's judgments. This implies that there is no certainty that two separate examiners who follow its stages will arrive at the same conclusion(Walvisch). As an aforementioned factor, nuclear DNA analysis is the most accurate; however, absolutely no DNA was found on Ben’s body.

Finally, the hindmost evidence that excuses Jacob from his accusation is Patz’s allegation. Multiple pieces of evidence arise in the series, which forms a reasonable accusation for Secondly, another salient piece of Patz. Initially, the audience is evidence that proves Jacob’s acknowledged that Leonard Patz is a innocence is Ben’s body itself. Neither pedophile. He has been accused and DNA nor any scientific evidence was approved to be guilty of many different discovered on Ben’s body but a single child crimes. For example, Patz fingerprint on Ben’s collar. Some might illegally paid a boy named Matt to have think that a fingerprint is prominent a sexual relationship with him. This and can accuse someone of murder. happening shows that even though However, research proves that a single Patz has been punished for his past fingerprint is always circumstantial. allegations he tended to continue the According to the U.S National relationship between him and the Research Council’s landmark report, teenagers. This is the exact definition the mere forensic method that has of recidivism: a convicted criminal's been continuously validated was proclivity to re-offend. The statistics 47

of the Bureau of Justice show the significance of recidivism. Within three years of release, two out of every three individuals are rearrested, and more than half are jailed again. This means that approximately 67% of criminals commit a crime again. It usually takes less than 3 years for criminals to get rearrested(health people). Due to these astounding rates, scientists and psychologists assume that criminals tend to commit another crime if they did previously. Despite, Patz’s former allegations another piece of evidence appointed him as the criminal of Ben Rifkin’s case. The series reveals that Patz had possession of Ben Rifkin’s photo on his phone. He deletes the photo, seemingly reluctant to delete it.

This provides crucial evidence to the audience that Patz is a criminal.

desirable to the person himself and the government. The government has to compensate the wrongly accused, with a tremendous amount of money to back up all the years they have spent in prison. False accusation is also illegal in virtually any country’s law.

Some people may assert that several shreds of evidence such as the story posted on the website might be valid evidence. However, this evidence as also mentioned by Jacob’s father, Andy, can be a fantasy created by Jacob as he was getting bullied by Ben. None of the evidence stating Jacob’s grievance is justifiable but rather absurd."Do your research and get your facts straight before throwing labels on people. False accusations are a serious matter in the deen. Wise up," said Yusha Evans. As the quote claims, false accusations are a serious matter, and Defending Jacob exactly shows the difficulties struggled by a falsely accused family.

Therefore, Jacob is not the criminal of Ben Rifkin’s murder case due to the absence of the murder weapon, deficiency of scientific evidence, and Citations: allegations of Patz. These several Mcshane, Justin. Anecdotal Information vs. factors are one of the most prominent, Scientific Data in the Courtroom ... 20 Apr. 2010, usually considered precedences when https://thetruthaboutforensicscience.com/anecdot al-information-vs-scientific-data-in-theconducting an investigation. In this courtroom/. murder case; however, the entirety of Jamie Walvisch Lecturer. “Fingerprinting to Solve Crimes: Not as Robust as You Think.” The the three aforementioned factors are Conversation, 23 Mar. 2021, missing, yet some researchers and https://theconversation.com/fingerprinting-toaudiences are blaming Jacob. Without solve-crimes-not-as-robust-as-you-think-85534.

“Incarceration.” Incarceration | Healthy People essential evidence, it is morally 2020, obligated to eradicate the accusation. https://www.healthypeople.gov/2020/topicsobjectives/topic/social-determinantsOtherwise, incarcerating innocent health/interventions-res ources/incarceration. people might occur. This is not

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VALENTIINA ANGIULI ‘25

La Gran Decision Al enfrentarme a la decisión de salvar un libro, me encuentro con una decisión muy complicada ya que hay millones de libros de escritores magníficos y muchas obras muy bien producidas. Sin embargo, tendría que decir, con confianza, que escogería Ética para Amador por Fernando Savater porque definitivamente merece ser rescatado y preservado.

Savater nos hace reflexionar sobre la importancia de la libertad individual y la responsabilidad moral en nuestras decisiones. Su ensayo es una guía ya que dice que la ética es el arte de saber vivir y nos puede ayudar a ser un mundo mejor en general.

Originalmente este ensayo fue dedicado a su hijo “Amador”, pero sin duda puede ayudar al resto de la sociedad también. No solo tiene un vocabulario fácil de entender, sino que también incluye ejemplos muy útiles que pueden conectar con el lector aún más con la escritura.

Savater nos anima a pensar en nuestras acciones y las consecuencias que pueden provocar. Por ejemplo, él discute sobre la importancia de la libertad individual, y nos hace reflexionar sobre cómo nuestras decisiones afectan nuestra propia vida y asimismo, la de los demás también.

Este tema que Savater desarrolla también conecta con la responsabilidad moral y distinguir los tipos de decisiones que tomamos; si son caprichos, órdenes, o costumbres.

Además, Savater resalta la importancia de ser conscientes en lo que elegimos hacer o decir, reconociendo el impacto grande que hace a nuestra sociedad.

En Ética para Amador, Savater enfatiza la importancia de la libertad individual y la responsabilidad ética en nuestras acciones. Él dice que la libertad es fundamental para nuestra vida, pero también implica responsabilidad. Savater destaca que la libertad y la responsabilidad ética van de la mano, y que debemos ejercer nuestra libertad de manera consciente y practicando ética. Un ejemplo de lo que nos trae la libertad es, “Libertad es decir, pero también, no olvides, darte cuenta de que estás diciendo. Lo más opuesto a dejarse llevar, cómo podrás comprender.”

En esta cita Savater nos recuerda que la libertad no es simplemente hacer lo que queremos sin consecuencias, sino tener la capacidad de reflexionar sobre nuestras acciones también.

Deberíamos tomar decisiones por

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nuestra propia cuenta y no dejarnos llevar por lo que los otros comentan, al final del día, la consecuencia va a ser nuestra.

Este libro merece ser rescatado y preservado por su capacidad única de cambiar nuestra forma de pensar y vivir. Savater nos guía a reflexiones sobre la libertad individual y la responsabilidad moral, dándonos una valiosa guía para construir un mundo mejor. Yo definitivamente recomendaría este libro ya que ofrece enseñanzas y mensajes importantes que le sugeriría a toda la sociedad.

En esta obra, Savater nos recuerda que la libertad y la responsabilidad ética son inseparables, y nos motiva a manejar nuestra libertad de manera consciente y ética para construir un mundo más justo y equitativo para todos.

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OUR FAVORITE BALBOA TRADITIONS: Senior Walk Last First Day Field Day Balboa Theater Water Day Middle School Concerts Senior Spirit Week

WORDS OF ADVICE: “Value the education you are receiving, it’s a privilege.”

“The time to worry about college will come! Don’t hurry to get to things that are inevitable, you will graduate, but you won’t get these years back.”

“Always say good morning to Ms. Centeno.”

“Don’t let others define who you are.”

TEACHERS WHOSE CLASSES CHANGED OUR LIVES: Mr. Williams Ms. Hurtado Mr. Padmore Ms. Moreno Ms. Chelita Ms. Smith Mme. Chapron Mr. Chan “Appreciate this moments and these people around you. Grow new bond and make the real ones stronger. Cause with time moving fast everything can change with a blink of an eye.”

“Stay out of any drama and focus on your grades.”

“Haz todo lo que quieras hacer pero no puedes quererlo todo.”

“Don’t waste your time with people that aren’t worth it and enjoy your high school years as much as you can.”

“Todo con calma.”

WORDS OF ADVICE: “Trust the process, and always be yourself! ”

❤️

“Be kind and do what makes you happy ”

💞

“Work hard, play hard.”

“Don’t sleep in class.”

“Appreciate those who stay with you because of who you are.”

HARDEST YEAR OF HIGH SCHOOL?

OUR SENIOR YEAR PLAYLIST: 1. TIME OF OUR LIVES - PITBULL, NE-YO 2. THESE WORDS - BADGER, NATASHA BEDINGFIELD 3. THE ADULTS ARE TALKING -THE STROKES 4. ALL THINGS MUST PASS (2014 REMASTERED) - GEORGE HARRISON 5. MAGIC POWER - TRIUMPH 6. EVERYTHING I AM - KANYE WEST, DJ PREMIER 7. YOUNG - VACATIONS 8. RUNNING ON EMPTY - JACKSON BROWNE 9. DON’T STOP BELIEVIN’ - JOURNEY 10. THE SPINS - MAC MILLER, EMPIRE OF THE SUNS

3:49 2:17 5:09 3:47 4:52 3:48 3:09 4:52 4:09 3:16

ABOUT BALBOA TALKS Balboa Talks is a student-led club focused on helping students express themselves and make their voices heard. We aim to promote the humanities among the student body and we give students an avenue to share their experiences, reflections, opinions, research, etc. in a semi-formal setting. As of this year, we are also Balboa Academy’s chapter of the National English Honor Society.

Scales is our semesterly literary magazine. It showcases the work of our fellow Balboa students and includes poetry, fiction, essays, research papers in both English and Spanish as well as visual art.