Rugged Magazine - January 2022

Rugged Winter 2022 January 24, 2022

Rugged

The Literary Arts Magazine of Bishop Dunne Catholic School

Rugged Returns

Inside this issue: Ari Buck Photographs

2-3

Gabriella Saucedo

4, 10

Paintings Katelyn Bagwell

6-7

Letter

Emily Fordan Photo, Illustrations Meghana Lammata

This issue also includes thoughtprovoking pieces about identity: a poem from junior Zoe Andrews and Meghana Lammata’s exploration of what it means to be a stereotype.

We are happy to highlight the photography of 8th grader Ari Buck and the paintings and drawings of seniors Gabriella Saucedo, Katelyn Bagwell, and Emily Fordan. These talented students have won contests both on campus and in the community. Look inside to see their work.

Read on for these perspectives.

5

Drawing Abigail Martin

Rugged is the literary arts magazine of Bishop Dunne Catholic School. In these pages, we celebrate the creative work of our students—the stories, poems, photographs, paintings, and drawings.

8, 14 9

Story Zoe Andrews

12

Poem

Senior Remembers Friend We also feature a remembrance from senior Abigail Martin of her friend and bandmate, Abigail Navarrete, Class of 2021.

Abby N. passed away in an accident shortly after graduating in May 2021. Abby M.’s letter to her friend and fellow clarinetist is both tribute and reminder to uphold the ideals they and other band members share.

Abigail Navarrete, Class of 2021

Page 2

Rugged

Contest Winners Ari Buck, Class of 2026

Ari Buck, 8th grade State Fair Winner Creative Arts Youth

Eighth grader Ari Buck entered his photographs in the 2021 State Fair of Texas Creative Arts Youth Contest. Featured above, his photograph of a honeybee on a flower won second place in the Color Insect category.

His photograph of a tree (facing page) placed third in the Black and White Floral category.

And his photograph of a tractor placed second in the youth Black and White Rural category.

Rugged

Page 3

Ari Buck, 8th grade State Fair Winner Creative Arts Youth

Page 4

Rugged

Contest Winners Gabriella Saucedo, Class of 2022 Katelyn Bagell, Class of 2022

Gabriella Saucedo, Senior Dia de los Muertos and Latinos Unidos Nuestro Oak Cliff Winner

Senior Gabriella Saucedo’s painting “Papel picado” won Best in Show in the Latinos Unidos Nuestro Oak Cliff Art Contest in October 2021.

Her painting also won first place at the Day of the Dead art contest at the North Oak Cliff Branch, of the Dallas Public Library, high school category.

Rugged

Page 5

Senior Katelyn Bagwell’s drawing “Flores de Muerto” won first place in the Latinos Unidos contest.

Her drawing also won second place at the Public Library contest in the high school category.

Katelyn Bagwell, Senior Dia de los Muertos and Latinos Unidos Nuestro Oak Cliff Winner

Letter to Abby Navarrete Abby Martin, Class of 2022

To Abby N. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen it, but I was watching a movie last night, The Perks of Being a Wallflower. And when I saw it, I thought of you. Not because I think you’d like it, but because I think you’d hate it just as much as I did.

In all honesty it was a great movie. The characters were well written, the plot flowed fluidly.

But there was this one line. . .This one line that tried to destroy our Eyes with Pride: “Why do they give out letter jackets to Marching Band? It’s not a sport. We all know it.”

And I really shouldn’t be offended. I don’t want to be that kid who can’t take a joke.

But then I remembered how much you loved your letterman jacket. And something just didn’t sit right with me.

I’ll always remember sitting in the front row with you. We are woodwinds, so we were always in the front row wherever we were. In the band hall, on the field. I remember because everything I did always had to be in tune with you. You’re the next biggest instrument so my tone fits inside of yours. When you take a breath, I take a breath. When you take a step, I take a step. It’s just what it means to be in band. We move together as one, in complete harmony.

And I suppose that’s fitting considering you were always one year older than me. My upperclassman. And every thing I did was always an attempt to be like you and your class.

Now that you’re gone—and I’m the oldest—all I can feel is a suffocating stillness. With no one to chase. No one to aspire to be but a better version of myself.

I’m Drum Major now, and this band is my everything. They joke with me and tell me that it’s my job now to yell at people and tell them what to do, but I just laugh it off. If bossing people around was what it meant to be drum major, then most of the world would be one. No, to be drum major is to be the glue. The one that consistently reminds each person how irreplaceable they are. How the band would be incomplete without them. The low brass, the woodwinds, the percussion, each infinitely precious. And you don’t accomplish this by complementing the way they play, although that wouldn’t hurt. You do this by eating lunch with them in the courtyard. Having their phone number. Texting them outside of school hours. Going to their birthday parties. Listening to them. Tuning into who they are. What they fear. What they look forward to. Making sure they never lose their Eyes with Pride.

As a senior I thought I would have the world in my hands. But now I realize all I have left is love, wisdom, and so little time to give it away.

When you graduated, you told me that because I was your name twin it was my job to carry on your legacy. The legacy of “Abby.”

And I’m doing my best.

I promise you I’m doing my best.

I found your uniform during band camp. It was my job to help my people get fitted, and I found it tucked away within the others who loved you.

I remember watching Mr. Harrelson take it away a few minutes later. He had the name tag facing in and disappeared into his office. I suppose to keep it safe. To keep it irreplaceable. He was hoping no one would notice, but I did, and I still do.

Now on the podium, I never forget to tell the other clarinets what good job they are doing. I know your senior year you were mostly online, so you never really got to watch them grow up. But I did, and I still do.

I can only imagine how proud you’d be if you could see how much they’ve accomplished.

I watch them begin to understand themselves, and they can listen now, and they can play in harmony so well they sound like the same instrument. Their Eyes are with Pride, and so are mine.

They want letterman jackets too. And they deserve them. For every late Friday night dragging bass drums through the school halls. For every time they breathed together. For every piece played so beautifully in tune, you can still feel it the next day.

They deserve it just like you did. And if the whole world disagreed, I would still tell them so.

It is what continues to connect us because connection is all we know.

So, we will continue to wear them.

For us and for you.

And we will continue to hold our Eyes with Pride.

Your band mate, Abby M.

Going Down in Flames Digital Illustration Emily Fordan, Class of 2022

“stereotype” Essay by Meghana Lammata, Class of 2022

stereotype? there is a comfort and disgust in being a stereotype. comfort because you have met people’s expectations and the chase for their validation is over. but once the chase is over, the game is over, and you realized that you enjoyed playing more than winning. how many people can i get to praise me? how many people can i get to tell me that i am smart? how many people can i get to tell me that i am good enough? keeping tally of the number of approvals you receive. disgust because you could exceed people’s expectations. won’t victory taste sweeter when everyone else doubted you? thought you couldn’t do any better than your stereotype? you did something that no one else ever did… take a chance on you. the question still stands: am i a stereotype? i guess a part of me is. i conformed and made sure to take a familiar form. i wouldn’t want to be different. because being different means being rejected from your own family. and any part of me that does vary from the stereotype is worth hiding. so, i hide my dreams because although i enjoy them, i can’t help but feel ashamed. that i am not like everyone else. yet, here i am breaking stereotypes. shouldn’t i be proud of doing something so… brave? because not being a stereotype is uncomfortable. but being one is also uncomfortable. maybe i am just uncomfortable. or crazy. either one. stuck between being one and not being one. whichever one i pick to follow, i’ll be disappointing someone - either my family or myself. i guess what i am trying to say is that i should just be myself. if that means being a stereotype, then be a stereotype. if that means not being a stereotype, then not being a stereotype. people are so caught up in how they are being portrayed that their sense of self is lost. stop wondering if you are a stereotype and start wondering if you are yourself.

Going Down in Flames (facing page) This is a digital surrealism self-portrait made using the software IbisPaintX, to convey the effects of pressure and overwork on young individuals. The fire symbolizes the burning weight of failure that consumes students who are unable to meet society’s expectations. This includes conforming to certain ideals of perfection: getting the highest grades, having the clearest skin or the most talent, and receiving the most “likes.” Hence, the papers thrown up all around me are scrawled with words of success but now serve as kindling to the path of selfdestruction.

Take a Bite!

Acrylic on Canvas Gabriella Saucedo, Class of 2022

News with Breakfast Painting on Newsprint [facing page] Gabriella Saucedo, Class of 2022

Lazy Poem by Zoe Andrews, Class of 2023

You have done nothing but told me how lazy I am…

I’ve tried so hard it’s unimaginable, but you can’t see that.

No. My lethargy is all you can see.

My laziness is imprinted on me like a logo on a magazine.

Always in bold.

Always looked at first.

The term "lazy" is divided into several groups.

Some are short, while others are long, but the contrary is industrious.

You claim that I refuse to accept responsibility.

That I am irrecoverably incapable of change.

That I couldn't grow.

You're familiar with me, right?

You pass judgment on me as if I were a never-ending book.

But I guarantee you didn't finish the book.

I've discovered my felicity, my imprudence, and my insensitivity... are all me.

I take it day by day, story by story. My beginning will never be my end because… by living, I take the initiative.

But you don't see that; instead, you see what everyone else sees...

LAZY I've taken the initiative by simply existing.

By staying.

Articles that informed the creation of this poem: https://jenmarie-counseling.com/never-say-lazy-child/ https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/surviving-your-childs-adolescence/201309/when-parents-call-their-adolescent-lazy

Winter Dusk Photograph Emily Fordan, Class of 2022

Roll With It! Graphic Novel [facing page, next two pages]

Emily Fordan, Class of 2022

This is a graphic novel featuring a girl who stumbles on a fortune cookie that has eerie predicting properties. With only one word of warning, this unassuming and cryptic “roll” takes over. Chaos ensues.

She encounters a roll of duct tape, is rolled up in a roll of carpet, then rained down on by dinner rolls, Swiss rolls, cinnamon rolls, and sushi rolls.

And that’s before she comes face to face with a larger than life rolling pin!

Rugged Winter 2022 Bishop Dunne Catholic School 3900 Rugged Drive Dallas, TX 75224 214-339-6561 bdcs.org

Mission Statement Bishop Dunne Catholic School empowers each student to explore, inquire, lead, and serve through a college preparatory education in a joyful community of faith.

Bishop Dunne Library

A Message from the Librarian The Bishop Dunne Library is a place for students to explore and discover the joys of reading, as well as a place to learn the skills to navigate a constantly changing, technologically sophisticated environment.

My mission as the librarian is to help students become lifelong learners, equipped with the tools to navigate, evaluate, analyze, and understand the diversity of information they will encounter throughout their lives.

Rugged began as a platform for students to share their creative work. Like many of the books that are available to students in the library, these works are often not directly connected to an assignment or to a course; they may be far from typical classwork.

But learning is not confined to the school walls. Reading, writing, creating: these are joyful enterprises that we encourage in every part of our students’ lives.

It is a pleasure to share their work. I hope you enjoy it.

Melanie M. Gibson School Librarian Editor of Rugged