June 1, 2023

Kevin Kaardal Superintendent of Schools / CEO

Public schools help students write their stories, both metaphorically as they grow through the years of schooling, and of course, quite literally as a part of the curriculum. Public schools provide an opportunity for students to express their stories, supported by both caring

LimitYour Kid’sScreen Time!

professional adults as well as their friends. Students share their stories in many forms. They may creatively write a story. They may share their own story or explore their family history as a part of the health or social studies curricula. Their actions may tell a story of generosity as they demonstrate that they care for others through charitable fund raisers or the gift of time shared in community. Stories can be shared through visual arts and performing arts too. These can provide theviewerasenseofwonderoranevening of entertainment. Personally, I feel a great sense of gratitude for all of the educators that played a role in helping me write my story. Their efforts led to my efforts, trying to set conditions where students can thrive holistically, living their best story as they strive to achieve their dreams. Enjoy the stories in this edition of “Together We Learn”; they come from the creative minds of our children and youth, and give me great hope for our future.

Lee-Ann Tiede Chairperson, Board of Education

One of the privileges of being a trustee is getting to visit our many learning communities and see firsthand how students and staff create Caring Communities.

In a recent visit to one of our great schools, I witnessed many amazing

interactions between staff and students, but there was one between two boys that touched my heart and was the highlight of my day. A young man with special needs and another student greeted each other at the bottom of the stairs with incredible ease and kindness. I know that doesn’t happen by accident – it is intentional that our schools are inclusive, and our students are kind. Character building often begins with a strong family foundation, but it is also fostered in the caring communities of public schools. I applaud the parents of those two boys for raising them well, and I applaud all the staff, volunteers, and students doing an exemplary job creating Caring Communities.

In this edition of Together We Learn, you’ll get a glimpse of students’ imagination and feelings as they bravely sharetheirstorieswithus.Literacyismore than reading; literacy equips students to tell their stories in a variety of media, make connections to their wonders, and build understanding. This is how we create Caring Communities.

Multiplestudiescorrelateincreaseduseofdigitalmediabychildrenwithrisksofobesity, poorerschoolperformance,poorersleepquality,aswellasdelaysincriticalcognition,learning andsocialskills.

Whatcanwedo?Startwiththeseguidelines:

• Limitrecreationalscreentimetonomorethantwohours/dayforschoolagechildren (lessforyoungerchildren)

• Takeabreakevery30to60minutes.Lookoutthewindow;getuptostretch; breakthespell.

• Avoidscreenuseinthehourbeforebedtime.(Use“nightmode”toreducebluelight exposureifyoumustuseascreen.)

• Encourageoutdooractivityoverscreentime.Newresearchindicatesthatincreased myopiaornearsightednessmaybelinkedwithchildrenspendingfewerhoursoutdoors.

• ContinueorstartthehabitofANNUALeyeexamsforallchildren.Youroptometristwill checkhowtheeyesconverge(turnintoread),accommodate(tofocusonwordsand screens),and-ifrequired-discussthepotentialbenefitofreadingglassesforyourchild. Thesemayincludepropervisualsystemdevelopment,reducingeyestrainoraidingin clarity.Wewillalsocheckforthemanysilentocularhealthconditionsonlyafulleyeexam canreveal.

Itisestimatedthatatleast80%oftheinformationasightedperson’sbrainisprocessingis visual,andintoday’sworldthatmaybeanunderestimation.Whatcouldbemoreimportant thananoptimallyfunctioningvisualsystem?Annualeyeexamsforchildrenarecovered throughMSP,sobookonetoday.

Kindergarten learners start their literacy journey by realizing their imaginative stories through both creative artwork and writing. As you can see in these samples from learners at École Bellevue Creek, they spell out words the way they sound and show what is in their mind’s eye with colourful pictures!

People who create #CaringCommunities

Name: Karla

Hall

What I do: Career-wise, I’m retired. (Karla assists the Parent Advisory Council at École Hudson Road Elementary continually from helping clean the kitchen to organizing fundraisers to deliveries, hot lunch etc. - the PAC says they couldn’t do it without her!)

Why I love public education: Short version is it encourages development of skills to become lifelong learners. We never stop learning.

Favourite hobbies: Knitting, machine embroidery, quilting

What I'm reading: Tell the Bees That I’m Gone by Diana Gabaldon and anything by Charles Martin - Chasing Fireflies is one of my favourites.

What I'm watching: Yellowstone, Chicago series, Call the Midwife

Favourite Quote: The best things in life are not things.

People who create #CaringCommunities

Name: Erin Williams

What I do: PAC President at Helen Gorman Elementary School by night, Registered Nurse by day

Why I love public education: I love the community network that Public Education creates. I am continually amazed and grateful for the teachers and support staff that show up and love, nurture, and educate our children.

Favourite hobbies/sport/interest: Spending time with my children, Riley and Paisley, family and friends. Snowboarding, Cross-Country Skiing, Trail Running, Hiking, Camping, Cabin Life, Boating, Surfing.

Favourite quote:

“ it is impossible” said pride

“ it is risky” said experience

“ it is pointless” said reason

“....give it a try” whispered the heart

What I'm reading: The Untethered Soul by Michael Singer

What I'm listening to: Odezsa, Lord Heron: Fool for Love

Bringing Characters to Life!

This collaborative project between Mrs. Corrie and Mrs. Pringle’s Gr. 2/3 writers from École Hudson Road Elementary and senior artists at École Okanagan Mission Secondary saw the older artists work from the young authors’ vivid descriptions to craft beautiful illustrations. As you can see from the smiles, these creative elementary students were thrilled when they got the original art in their hands and saw their characters come to life! Look for more collaborations throughout this publication.

Luna the Horse

By: Cecelia

Luna was found in an abandoned castle. She is a horse that sounds like a regular horse. Her favourite food is bitter coffee beans. She smells like fog. When you touch her she feels wet. Her mane is black. Her eyes are sparkly lavender. She fits in your hand. Her entire body is midnight black. She has brown hooves with white on the bottom. She can turn daylight into dark, like night. If you like magical things maybe adopt this pet.

Raine Wierstra, Grade 12, pen and ink

Congratulations…

…to Abdul Alhamwi, Grade 12 student at Rutland Senior Secondary (RSS) who won the prestigious Beedie Scholarship. Abdul came to Canada from Syria in 2006. He is a great friend and helper for many Syrian newcomers and English Language Learners (ELL) at RSS. Abdul will study Engineering at UBC-Okanagan.

He is an amazing influence on our Syrian boys, and is so very deserving of this. We are all SO proud of Abdul and his hard work.

- Julie Loveridge-Marks, International Education/ELL Coordinator

EXPLORATION Mrs. Spinks Grade 3s Loose parts

At Davidson Road Elementary (and in schools across the district!) teachers use story workshop as a part of creative writing and ask their students “What stories come alive with loose parts?” Through materials, students work on different aspects of creative writing and storytelling. Their learning is through oral storytelling and sharing their stories with the class. After each session, the class reflects on what the next focus for story telling should be to improve their storytelling.

Through loose parts, some of our struggling writers have flourished during story workshops. Without the pressure of putting pencil to paper, these reluctant writers have been able to “write” engaging stories with amazing problems and solutions. With what would have been a struggle to write, these students can see themselves as authors of exciting stories they want to share with their classmates. Students who are not quite verbal or are English Language Learners are able to engage as authors through story workshops.

Natalie, one of our students with special needs, was working on creating faces with emotions through oral storytelling

Continued on page 11 and 12

Amelia

Lucy and Hayley

Alearningadventurefortech-lovingkids ages8-14!Learntocodeanddevelop STEMstillsatyourownpaceinouryearroundprogram.Convenientflexible schedulingonweeknightsandweekends.

OurJRSandboxisforages5-7.Learntocode throughstorytelling,gamebuilding,handsonprojects,andplay,boostingskillsin robotics,problemsolving,andteamwork.

ExploreexcitingtopicslikeMinecraft, Roblox,Modding,gamebuilding,physical computing,STEM,3Ddesign,video, animation,andmuchmore!

From games&sports to peersupports,it’sall hereattheYMCA!

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EXPLORATION

Recreation

Sports&games

Art,dance&music

STEMprojects

YouthLeadership Development

Child Care

Full-daychildcare

Preschool

Before&afterschoolcare

Camps(seasonal& ProDdays)

Childminding&ZonedIn

Creating an engaging beginning:

Asacharity,theYMCAoffersfinancialassistanceforall theirprogramsandservicestothoseinneed.

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Learnmoreat

Once upon a time there was two families watching a shooting star! It was daylight savings but then a meteor blasted the stars and they disappeared for two whole days! They had to wait for them. When the stars appeared again they had pictures of all the space animals with star constellations. It was the most magical thing ever.

Ayleah-Lee

Hayley and Evalyn

Loose parts continued

Casey - working on storytelling through an engaging problem and solution

Problem: A spaceship with a radio on board used to collect data from the sun broke when an asteroid crashed into it. It crash landed on the moon.

Solution: Jeff was sent on a mission to the moon. He came to land in the moon to find survivors, resources and the broken radio, He found one survivor whom he saved and transported him off the moon in his spaceship.

Sənsisyustən HouseofLearning

We inviteyou toexperiencethebeauty that isour place,culture and community.

Sənsisyustən HouseofLearningis a Group 2 Independent Elementary Schoolwith theBCMinistry of Education. Weteach current BCcurriculumwith anintegrationofOkanagan Syilx perspectives The syilx/Okanagantranslationof Sənsisyustən is “theplace whereyoubecomeanything youchooseto be.” The school,designed after a traditionalnative pit-house, lendsitself to interactive learningin awarm andnurturingenvironment. Ourschool edifies theSeven Teachings:humility, honesty, bravery,respect, love, truth,andwisdom. Teachers, staff, Elders,andSchoolBoard Membersstriveto make thatareality for students.

Whatwe offer:

A balance ofacademics with OkanaganLanguage andculture taught in every grade

Culturalfieldtrips suchas tea picking,gatheringsage, and diggingbitterroot.

Smallclass sizes, allowing formore oneonone teachingtime. A LearningAssistance Program forchildrenwhomayrequire additionalsupport.

A school-wide discipline programthat promotessocial responsibility.

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Negative persuasive writing on black licorice

The writing that she has shared is a persuasivepiecetoconvincethereaderwhy theyshoulddislikeblacklicorice. Thewords in bold are the negative persuasion words to convince you there is nothing good about this revoltingtreat.

Persuasive writing on disgusting black licorice

Ewww! In my opinion, black licorice is absolutely disgusting! So I hope that at the end of this, you agree, because if you like it, you must change your mind, or you need a counselor, because it is terrible, horrible, awful, revolting, I could go on forever!

Lastbutnotleast,the dreaded tasteofburntblackbeans crawls its way down your innocent throat. It makes you think about, and taste, beans that’ve been out for those long, rotten, hours. It feels like I could just choke!

As you can see without a doubt I hate black licorice. Have you finally changed your mind on disturbing black licorice? I sure hope so. Olivia

To begin with, it has a revolting after taste, it tastes like expired Advil after a while. Then, it gets way worse, it makes your breath all stinky! Plus, it even tastes like stench! Trust me, I do NOT recommend black licorice, if you’re looking for something to feed your child, you are reading the wrong book. Feeding a child black licorice, is child abuse.

Secondly, it’s the stench of dirty laundry that has not taken a trip to the washing machine in forever. I strongly believe that black licorice is grotesque. the scarce fumes of gasoline, the smell of a trash can not cleaned out for years, and it stays in your nose for all of eternity.

DescriptivewritingonFall

The writing that she has shared is a descriptivepieceonFall. Thefocusison using descriptive language (underlined) that creates an image in the reader’s mind, as well as interesting sentence startersinbold.

Describing Fantastic Fall

First things first, the extraordinary colour pops as the incredible leaves drop gracefully onto the crisp ground. The animals get ready for hibernation scurrying over to get food and stocking up for the winter. Brr it’s getting cooler, as the season inches on, leaving us to wear warmer clothes if we want to go out and play in the magnificent leaves One fascinating thing about the fall is there is the spooky, horrid Halloween’ where you can dress up in any costume you want to and go around the neighborhood trick or treating to get scrumptious candy.

Another exciting holiday in Fall is the incredible Thanksgiving, where you

can visit family and say what amazing things you are thankful for.

Guess what? In Fall you can go see the unbelievable salmon spawning. Did you know salmon can find the exact spot they were born and lay their eggs there.

Best of all you can walk in the beautiful forest with spectacular colors and your parents can drink delicious pumpkin spice lattes while you enjoy your special moment walking in the fresh forest with your family.

To wrap it up you can always jump in large leaf piles outside and you can also throw them everywhere doesn’t that sound intriguing!

Ella Loverock

Harry Potter’s Diary

Celia Binkowski (left) Sanez Harsch-Wilson Grade 4 Bankhead Elementary

For their Buddy Writing project, Celia and Sanez created Harry Potter’s Diary. In this video, they explain their inspiration to take their writing to the next level and read their work aloud.

closer and closer to the entrance and I felt really scared. I looked around the classroom and noticed a chord behind the pencil sharpener. I saw another hand reach out to the pencil sharpener and push a button. Then the jaws of the pencil sharpener started grinding against each other. It hurt my lead. Then I heard a DING and I got put back in the desk. Everyone in the desk was asking me what it was like. Then the eraser from earlier exclaimed “ Oh my gosh! You’re shorter now!”. I don’t recommend being a pencil.

by: Lexie Zacharias Grade

5

by: Aurora Beleno Grade 5

Gravler and the Magic Power

by: Evan

Graveler the dragon was found lost and eating cherries from someone’s cherry tree. If you are the one to adopt Graveler he has red orange firey colors all over.

Isabella Di Palma, Grade 11, mixed media

Graveler is the size of the empire state building. His magical power is shrinking and growing. If you suck in air and taste cherries and roasted meat he is close. If you hear creaking sounds he is close. If you smell smoke and fire he is very close. If you like running around in fields and eating cherries you will love this adoption.

TackleFootballRegistrationisOpen!

WHATISSAFECONTACT!?

Safecontactteachessafetacklingandblockingalongwithsafetyeducationand awareness.Everyfootballplayerneedstobeabletopreformthefootballfundamentals taughtinsafecontact,regardlessofwhatpositiontheyplayonthefield.

Everycoachandplayerisrequiredtocompletesafecontacthoursbeforecontactdrillsand gamesstart!Weemphasizesafeplayforeveryone!

HOWHASFOOTBALLEVOLVED?

Contactshouldbeinitiatedwiththefrontofthetackler’sshoulderpadsandthechest. TacklersshouldNEVERinitiatecontactwiththeirhelmet.

Footballisnotthegameitusedtobe!Weareveryproudtorunasafeandfunprogram forallskilllevels!

U10FLACKLEDIVISION!

Flackleisacombinationofflagfootballwithblockingadded.Thisisagreatintroduction foryoungerathletestoprogressorstartintheirfootballjourney. Softshellhelmetsand paddedfootballpantsprovided(youbringthecleats)

Thisprogramteachesthebasicsoffootballwithoutthepressureofcontactandprepares themtojoinourtackledivisionsintheirolderyears!Opentoages6*-9.Seeourwebsite formoreinformation!

Helmets,shoulderpads&paddedfootballpantsallprovidedwithdeposit.

Grade 5

by: Riley McLeod Grade

5

Canoeing&Paddleboards Swimming&Hiking ChallengeCourse

CampWideFieldGames Arts&Crafts Archery&AxeThrowing

EcoFun-Developadeepappreciation&understandingforourforests &naturalenvironmentthroughhandsonactivities.

OutdoorAdventureCamp(Oak)14-16yrBondwithyourpeersand experienceOkanagannaturaltreasureswhilebackpacking.

LeadersinTraining(LIT)14-16yrDevelopleadershipandteam buildingskillsasyouexploreyourownpersonalgrowth.

by: Danika Dodsworth

Grade 5

Makefriends&havefunoutdoors!

Écrit par Abigail Gaertner

Grade 6 FI

École Dorothea Walker Elementary

La paix la justice et les forts institutions

Est-ce que vous saviez qu’ il y a une estimation de 89.3 millions de personnes qui étaient forcées de quitter leur maison parce que c’était trop dangereux et violent. Je m’appelle Abigail et je suis vraiment chanceuse. Des personnes tout autour du monde sont dans le danger sans cesse. Des fois c’est si dangereux qu’ ils doivent fuir leur pays. Ces personnes s’appellent les réfugiés.

J’ai choisi de parler à propos de l’ objectif #16 la paix, la justice et les forts institutions parce que je ne peux pas imaginer si j’étais forcée de fuir ma maison et mon pays. Beaucoup de réfugiés sont forcés de relier sur une contrebandier avec leur vie. Des mille de personnes ne surviventpaslevoyage,maismêmequandlespersonnes savent les risques ils essaient parce que c’est plus bon que s’ ils avaient rester à leurs maison. Premièrement je vais reculer un peu et expliquer qui sont les réfugiés et pourquoi ils doivent partir. Il y a des millions de raisons les réfugiés vont fuir leurs pays. La plupart des raisons c’est la guerre. Pendant les guerres il y a beaucoup plus de violence et les personnes ont peur de même juste sortir de leurs maisons, ces personnes perdent les ressources importants comme l’eau et la nourriture. Mais quand une personne fuit leurs pays et devient une refugee il ne peut pas retourner même s’ils voulaient.

Le voyage des réfugiés est vraiment dangereux, tu as besoin de beaucoup de persévérance parce que pour tous les réfugiés il y a toujours des obstacles qui peuvent

Kyler

by: Nash

Kylerthebunnywasfound in a tree in the forest. He has fluffy brown and white fur with a fluffy white tail. He has small round eyes and lots of long whiskers. He has blue antlers and is small like a frog. He feels fluffy, soft, and sometimes dirty. He smells like caramel.

When he is scared he makes a loud screech. He likes to eat carrots.

Adopt Kyler!

sembler impossible. Les personnes peuvent voyager par l’eau ou la terre mais n’importe où il ne peuvent pas retourner. Les façons de voyager sont beaucoup de fois illégales. Les réfugiés doivent compter sur les contrebandiers. Pas beaucoup de personnes survivent. Même quand les réfugiés arrivent dans un autre pays, il y a encore d’autres obstacles. Beaucoup de fois dans un temps dangereux il y a plus de refugee qui essaye de fuir leurs pays et les autres pays n’a pas assez d’espace pour lui. Quand ça arrive les autres pays essayent de lui refouler ou ils met dans les centre de détention pour des années! Je peux vous assurer que tu seras vraiment chanceux si tu arrives dans un pays sauf et le pays te donne de l’aide.

Les réfugiés sont forcés de fuir leurs maisons, leurs pays parce que c’est trop dangereux mais après ça ils doivent aussi survivre le voyage et des fois même quand ils arrivent dans un autre pays ils essayent de lui refouler et abandonner dans leur temps de besoin. Les réfugiés sont des personnes comme moi et toi ils peuvent sentir triste ou heureux, ils peuvent sentir la douleur, ils sont humains comme moi et toi et ils ont besoin d’aide. Des millions de personnes innocentes autour du monde souffrent pour quelque chose qui est dangereux et violent. Imaginer à grand, et passer à l’action pour ces personnes et essayer de lui donner une future ou ils ont une voix.

‘‘

People who create #CaringCommunities

Name: Michele Romaine

What I do: Noon-hour supervisor at École Élémentaire Casorso Elementary School

Why I love public education: Because it provides education to people with different socioeconomic status so everyone learns how to get along with each other.

Favourite hobbies: Everything gardening! Michele owns a farm that provides produce to a vegan restaurant in Kelowna.

What I'm listening to: Simon Hill podcast or anything on health and science.

Megan Humphries, Grade 11, mixed media

by: Emy Z. Grade 7

École

H.S. Grenda Middle

I worry for countless hours, I fear for days. When will all of this dread go away? Worries I think before anything else… They ruin everything. Sometimes I wonder how others have felt. All I do is fear, fear about all of the possible things that could happen. I worry about things people can not imagine. Years pass, I still have the same fears. They never went away, when will they die or possibly decay?

Spiders to the dark, all fears leave a mark. I’m stuck in a storm! All I see is lighting, all I hear is thunder. Just one boom coming one after the other. Afraid, that’s all I am. Because I’m scared, I stay up past midnight. Sometimes till 3am. My whole

life is filled with fright. I’m afraid of flight, scared of the dark and fear of the night.

What if none of us feared or worried about anything? Nobody would be worried to choke on poutine, nobody would be afraid about flying or dying. Fears and worries make us stronger and more powerful, sometimes overcoming them makes us less dreadful. But for some it is hard to do so, when they try to overcome their fears they overflow. Tons of emotions come spilling, and tons of tears begin dripping.

Everyone has a worry or fear. If someone doesn’t, they probably have never shedded a tear. Most of us do not know what we are afraid of, we never see it. And it’s okay if you don’t believe it. Me, you, and everyone else is scared of something that nobody knows or sees. But just know you’re never alone, for we all have tons of fears and worries.

A Touchy Subject of Similarity

By: Ailish Heck

Grade 8

École KLO Middle

Hatred and admiration are such general emotions, nobody ever talks about it. “ I love him!” Do you truly? Or is it passion for someone you look up to? Passion and love, two very different overwhelming sensations that are converged together at inappropriate times. Having a passion for a significant other is possible, and

By: Lenna

Barbaza

Grade 8

École

KLO Middle

The day the mailman came was the day everything changed. For months my once joyful mother had trailed around the house, a ghost of her former self, fearing the worst.

Having left for war when I was only

more common than people think. Love is a fragile topic, to talk about, to express. Constantly mixed up with passion, to want, to need. A longing, with no hesitation.

Towant,isnottolove.Notenoughpeople talk about it. Constantly mixed up, it’s a deadly mistake. Of relationships, of lives, of worlds. Hatred is an overused word, I must admit I use it excessively myself. But that’s not the point. Admiring someone means to look at them in a positive lens, a romanticized view of even the smallest interaction. Admiring

someone is easy, it’s for them to see what you see that’s hard. Loving someone who doesn’t love themself is a touchy topic not enough people talk about.

To love yourself is a difficult feat, only the strongest can achieve. You can love others, have so much left over, and not have the ability to love yourself. I look at myself in the mirror every morning when I brush my hair, and anytime I see a mirror, I see me. Looking at myself is a tough thing to do, because I hate that it’s me. I hate what I see, and that what I see is none other than my consciousness.

Tear-Stained Letter

six years old, I could remember very little about my father other than he brought joy to the entire house and that everything was better when he was here. I watched as her eyes slowly widened and as her face crumpled like paper.

Tears dripped on the letter from my mother’s pale, ghostly face, her legs buckling from beneath her. Slowly I took the letter from her shaking, clammy hands and tried to comfort her as well as myself. Silently we sobbed in each other’s

Kit Kat

by: Maya

Kit Kat was found on the doorstep of the agency. She has grass green eyes and she has berry red paws. Kit Kat is the size of a soap bottle and her fur is coal black. She smells like sour candy. She also likes jelly beans flavoured bubblegum.

If you hear claws ripping things it is her. She feels soft like a pillow. She can teleport! A loving and caring person should adopt her.

hands wishing that maybe, just maybe this was all just a bad dream and when we got up the next morning this horrible war would be over.

We would open the door and he’d be standing there with his usual grin and everything would be alright again. Of course, not every wish gets granted and my night was a sleepless one. The question “Why?” pounded through my head even when I did get some sleep. Suddenly with a jolt I sat up in my bed,

And yet, when I see someone in my life who truly does mean well, I can’t help but love them. Admire them, appreciate them.

I constantly wonder and ask myself if anyone sees me the way I see them, with admiration. Or if they see me how I see myself. Do they see themselves how I see the person staring back at me in the mirror? One can never look at another exactly as one sees oneself. It’s not possible to. Similarities, yes. Never the exact same though. Like passion and love, like all to each other.

and in the darkness of my messy room, I could make out a faint glow at the edge of my bed. With a twinkle in his eye, my cheerful father stood up and hugged me one last time before he completely disappeared.

This could have all just been a dream, but to me it made all the difference in the world. My question had been answered through that hug and I could see that my father had given his Tomorrow so that I could have my Today.

People who create #CaringCommunities

Name: Michael Gonzales

What I do: Custodian (school note: Super Hero!)

Why I love public education: Kids learn different cultures, sportsschools are inclusive. I love SKE and it’s Sharing Kindness Everyday community.

Favourite hobbies/sport/interest: Play and watch cricket

Favourite quote: “ Instead of being sad, just try to be happy.”

What I'm reading: The Bible

What I'm listening to: Gospel music

What I'm watching: FBI Series

Dislikes: Glitter!

Alfie Siggins, Grade 11, pencil crayon

I’m Still Hungry

A free verse poem, creatively written by Brianna Scott

Inspired by “Wherein Abigail Fields Recalls Her First Death And, Subsequently, Her Best Life” from the perspective of the desert.

As my windy voice whispered, the plot taking place I was ready for the shot, my heartless self, no grace Getting out my fork and knife, ready for my fill I saw the coward of the white man riding down the hill

And this little girl, so hungry, but not as much as me Her gun pulled out, her voice a shout, our vengeance was the key She lowered the gun, my anger begun, so I pulled at her feet Promises owed, one life must go, but I only got defeat

I was starving, my patience carving, a deeper gap in my soul Only vengeance would fill my desire, that’s what I thought, behold I do confess, I was a mess, I entered Barton as a whole My tantrum flying, and Barton dying, the girl so bold

She pulled the trigger, and my sigh of relief Lasted for a moment, before came the grief My tummy rumbled louder, the kill had no power Vengeance not fufilled, and now I was the coward.

I’m. Still. Hungry.

Ice the dragon was born in a blue egg on the side of the rood and was left by his mom.

Ice is always happy and he never stops smiling. He makes friends easily. He is the size of a classroom. His body is blue. He has big sea blue eyes, two pointy front teeth, and a long tail. Ice has blue scaly legs. He also has a lion’s mane.

This dragon does not have wings. He smells like fresh bubble gum. He roars when he is happy and growls when he is mad! His favourite taste is blueberry gum, cotton candy, and mint chocolate chip ice cream! He feels scaly, wet, and cold! The end.

Lisa Wu, Grade 12, watercolour

Ice by: Sailor

By: Ben Haas

Grade 10

Rutland Senior Secondary

“ Ryan Howell, please report to the office,” was announced over the intercom. Ryan pumped his fists in the air with excitement.

“Yes, I get to miss the test,” he said under his breath as he left his classroom and continued down the hallway. The hallways were painted bland gray, contrasting the poppy red lockers. The paint was chipping, and garbage was collected in corners. While walking down the hallway, Ryan dribbled his imaginary basketball.

“Fakes left, he shoots and scores,” he narrated as he made his way to the office.

Shooting to Find Joy

Ever since Ryan was little, he dreamt of being a pro basketball player. While finishing his follow-through, he tripped over his loose shoelace, which he was always too lazy to tie, and fell to the ground.

“Pfft, stupid shoelaces,” he mumbled under his breath as he got up quickly, hoping no one saw. As he walked into the office, he saw Mr. Bridge, a tall man who alwaysworethebiggestsmile.Hishairwas gray, or what was left of it, and he dressed younger than he was in a gray long-sleeve with jeans and white converse kicks, but the cool high-top ones. Mr. Bridge looked up from the papers in his hand.

“Ryan, your aunt is here and asked if you could meet her at her car.”

“OK,” Ryan responded without concern.

“Thanks, Mr. Bridge,” he said over his

shoulder as he left the office towards the front doors.

As soon as he opened the front doors, he was hit with a cold blast of air. He noticed his aunt’s car; its obnoxious color demanded your attention. He started running toward her car, and as he got closer, he noticed that her eyes were bloodshot and her eyelids puffy. He was barely in the car when she grabbed him, wrapped her arms around him, and startedsobbing.Hisheartsanktohisguts, knowing what she would say before she said it. As she opened her mouth to talk, tears replaced her words as she struggled to give them a voice.

“ Your parents have died.”

The words hung in the air as they fell from her mouth, each shooting through his heart like a bullet. His mind warred with the reality that his heart knew, and he fought against it.

“They can’t be dead; they texted me a couple of hours ago,” he argued. “ No, no, no, you’re wrong. You’re lying.”

He cried uncontrollably and pushed his head against the dashboard. He was in a nightmare and fought and cried, desperately trying to escape the pain that tyrannized and robbed him of all he knew.

Five months later

Ryan rolled over to his alarm, bossing him to get up. He slammed it carelessly as he pulled himself out of his bed heaven. He sat on the edge of his mattress, procrastinating the inevitable. He was going to school today. His thoughts were interrupted by his aunt’s voice yelling from downstairs.

“ Come get breakfast.”

“In a second,” Ryan yelled back. As Ryan headed downstairs, he passed his reflection in the mirror; curious, he stopped to look at the boy looking back at him. His brown hair was messy and sticking up at the back, and he had pockets of darkness collected under his eyes and sadness stained his face.

“ What a mess!” he muttered.

He continued downstairs in defeat, but the thought of breakfast sparked some joy. As Ryan got downstairs, his aunt shoved a bowl of cereal into him.

“Eat quickly. We’re leaving in 20

minutes.”

He shovelled down the cereal, enjoying its sweetness, while simultaneously gathering his school supplies and cramming them into his backpack. The car ride to school was quiet. When they pulled into the school parking lot, flashbacks of the day his world was torn apart darted through his head. He closed his eyes, trying to turn off the memories that pushed their way in. His aunt’s warm hand brought him back to reality as she squeezed his hand in hers.

“ I know it’s hard for you. Call me if you need me,” she said sincerely.

“OK, thanks, auntie,” Ryan responded, holding back tears as he grabbed his bag from the back seat and opened the door.

“OK, remember you can call me whenever,” she reminded him.

Ryan walked through the school with his head hung in heaviness.

“ Well, if it isn’t Ryan, Howell,” someone yelled from the halls.

Ryanpulledhishoodieoverhisheadinan attempt to hide and continued walking. As he was heading upstairs to get to his class, someone bumped him, shoving him into the lockers.

“ Hey, watch where you’re going!”

Ryanpulledhishoodiebackinannoyance to see what fool bumped into him. While looking to find the perpetrator, something caught his eye. An immense orange basketball plastered on a glossy poster that read: Junior Boys Basketball tryouts on November 20 at 6 pm. As Ryan read it, a smile crept onto his face and memories of all the hours he spent with his dad dribbling and shooting hoops flooded his memory. A wave of excitement came over him, a feeling he had long forgotten. He allowed the excitement to stay and held tightly to it for the rest of the day.

The following day Ryan woke up differently; he got up before his alarm clock and made breakfast, scrambled eggs with roasted potatoes, chopped green onion, and shredded marble cheese with a heftydollopofchipotlesauce.Abreakfast hash no cereal could compete against. Filled up on a hearty breakfast and pride in his culinary skills, he was ready for the day.

The car ride was quiet but peaceful, and all he could think of was getting to the courts. He was armed with a purpose, and he fixated on it. His vision had cleared, and he followed his excitement back to where it had always been, basketball. When Ryan got to school, he went right to the basketball courts. The concrete courts were neglected with cracks and weeds that were stubbornly but cleverly finding a home in the hidden soil. Ryan noticed there was another kid of similar age and height shooting hoops. Ryan went to the other side of the court, wanting space. Ryan’s first shot and two dozen to follow all fell short. He was mortified with himself; how could he be so horrible at something he loved? Where did it all go? Had he lost his shot?

Was that stolen from him too? He continued despite his frustration and mindlessly kept shooting as he felt the excitement drain from him with every missed attempt. Twenty minutes had

passed when he finally glanced up to see about ten people around him.

“Hey, who wants to play 5v5?” A boy yelled.

Ryan, nervous about his skills, hesitated but decided why not.

Ryan chimed in, “I’ll play.”

“OK, perfect,” the others replied. Abruptly he passed the ball, and his body took over instinctively.

There was no time to think but respond as he fell into what he knew and loved, the game. Dribbling, shooting, passing, sweating, and high-fiving came rushing back. RIIIIIIIIINNG

The school bell interrupted the game, scattering the kids in different directions.

“ You’re not bad,” one boy nodded to Ryan as he grabbed his ball and ran towards the school…

“Catcha later, let’s play again,” the boy yelled over his shoulder.

Ryan asked, “Hey, how often do you guys play?”

“ Every morning,” the boy replied.

“ Perfect! I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The following week Ryan went every day to practice with his newfound basketball friends. He enjoyed the distraction it brought him, and he was motivated to make the team and return to something he loved. On the day of the tryouts, Ryan laid out his clothes perfectly, put on his luckysocks,andevenbrushedhishair.He walked into the tryouts with confidence and expectations. He brought his full effort and noticed the coaches standing together and talking while watching him multiple times during the tryouts. At the very end, the head coach walked over to him. He had broad, strong shoulders and tree-trunk legs. He was the kind of man who would intimidate, but the closer you got, the safer he felt, with his inviting presence and kind eyes. The coach said to Ryan, “Hey, son,

excellent playing out there.”

Ryan tried to hide the smile that spread across his face. Before he could answer, the coach leaned into Ryan and put his arm around his shoulder. His smell reminded him of his dad’s spicy warmth and manliness, and he breathed it in, savouring the scent of familiarity. The coach whispered, “Between you and me, you’re on the team.”

A tear escaped Ryan’s eyes and rolled down his cheek as he felt the warmth of the tear run down his face. A feeling came over him that he thought he had lost forever, joy. At that moment, he realized it wasn’t about making the team but finding something he thought was forever taken with his parents, the ability to know and feel happiness. For once, he could see past the pain that he carried, and although still heavy, he saw a stream of light sneak through the darkness giving a small but spectacular glimpse of the future that awaited him.

Lightning

by: Sonny

Lightning the dragon was found on the ring of planet Saturn and brought to Earth.

He has blue, black, yellow, and gray scales. He also has four wings.

Hisfavouritefoodissavorymeat. He’s as small as a bookmark. He has two poisonous fangs and his favourite thing is playing. He needs lots of care When Lightning is stressed all you have to do is tickle his tummy. He needs to sleep after playing. When he sleeps he slaps his tail on the ground. Lightning sleeps for seven hours. You should adopt this pet!

Getting Older

By: Z. Ardo Grade 11

Mount Boucherie Secondary School

I watched myself through the mirror that was my younger sister. I scrutinized her immaturity, her naivete and her undeniable innocence.

I sat silently at the children’s table, listening to the adults, and their worthy conversations. Impatiently waiting to grow up.

They had secrets that they whispered, And wisdom beyond compare. Their experience was evident and clear, through the stories they told.

I desperately wanted to be like them. To be strong, To be capable, To be all-knowing.

Now, I sit among those I idolized, I watch them speak, But with words of uncertainty and constant complaints.

I look at the children’s table, And notice their purity, their genuine joy. I recall the simplicity of how it once was, The effortless excitement for life.

As I look around the table I have graduated to, My heart aches for the past. If only I had understood The truth about growing up.

People who create #CaringCommunities

Name: Leanne Ali

What I do: Learning Assistance Teacher at Kelowna’s alternate education school

Why I love public education: Public school is accessible to everyone which creates a system full of diversity and inclusion. I love working with many unique individuals who each bring different skill sets, ideas and views to the team. There are many opportunities, with professional autonomy, to individualize and differentiate learning to meet the needs of all learners.

Favourite hobby/sport/interest: I love to travel, doing activities, or just hanging out by a body of water, cooking, and spending time with my family.

Favourite quote: “ Your value doesn’t decrease based on someone’s inability to see your worth” Unknown

What I'm reading: A Bedouin Dies in the City by Muna Abougoush and The Midnight Lock by Jeffery Deaver

What I'm listening to: Anything that pumps me up and sets the mood for the day, be it my country playlist or Miley Cyrus’ Flowers

What I'm watching: Good Moms

Lillian Duff, Grade 11, watercolour

“I’ll look for you in the stars”

By: M. Webb Grade 11

Mount Boucherie Secondary School

Grandpa

It’s so unfamiliar to see you like this. How age has impacted you. Etched itself into your life, and transformed you.

You attempt to bury how Vulnerable, Helpless, Pathetic you’ve become. Because that’s not who you are. That’s not how you want to be known. Not how you want to be remembered.

Each day you wear a smile on your face. You’re always quick to respond with snarky remarks.

Eager to spend time with your family. But deep down I know

You’re exhausted, You’re hurting, You’re in pain. Not from the tumor that has built a home inside you, But because you have to say goodbye To everything you’ve known, To everything you’ve built. You have to say goodbye too soon.

You’re asked daily whether you’re feeling ok. Whether you can continue, Or do you need to rest. It’s rare that you tell others how you’re feeling, What the doctor said, What treatments you’re receiving,

People who create #CaringCommunities

Name: Trish Marino

What I do: Noonhour Supervisor

Why I love public education: I love how inclusive and diverse our public school system is. The kids in our schools have the most incredible teachers, administrators, and support staff behind them, giving our students the opportunity to reach any goals they want to achieve in their future. Most of all it’s the kids that make our schools special and I look forward to spending time with them each and every day.

Favourite hobby/sport/interest: I enjoy, hiking, cycling, music, travelling with my family & decorating my home.

Favourite Quote: “Oh, the places you will go.” - Dr. Seuss

We have had this quote on our son’s wall since he was three. To me, it means nothing can ever stand in your way.

What I'm listening to: Ordinary Miracle by Sarah McLachlan & Love Can Build a Bridge by The Judds

What I'm watching: Million Dollar Listing LA - I highly recommend The Neighbourhood (I watch it with my husband. We love it!)

And how are they working? Whether you’re getting better Or worse.

You keep your ventilator tucked in the farthest corner of your room

So that your grandkids don’t see it and ask: “What is this?”

“Why do you need it?”

You’re afraid they’ll grieve before you’re gone, Recall memories from the past while you’re still here to make more.

We know how quickly it will come, Before it finally stops. Ending in silence. And for that reason, We’ve already said our goodbyes before you’ve even left. Because we know you will continue to watch over us as you always have. And guide us. Instead, this time, From above.

Together We Create Caring Communities

Please consider joining your school’s Parent Advisory Council (PAC) Executive to ensure that students can continue to benefit from the BC Gaming grant funds available annually to school PACs. Please reach out to your school principal to learn more.

By: Acacia Cousins

Grade 12

Mount Boucherie Secondary School

Just as he expected, the check in counter was empty. Bill neatly printed his full name, address, and credit card number on the back of a Ralph Lauren receipt and placed it on the desk, daring somebody to snatch it. To ruin his pretty little life.

He then slipped behind the counter, selected the corresponding room key, and started down the narrow hall, creating as much of a disturbance as he could.

Whenever he was in the mood for self-destruction, when he was bored out of his mind with all of it and felt he couldn’tfeigncontentednessforonemoresecond,Frank wandered down the side streets and back alleys until he found a place just like this; the shadier the better. He wore his nicest loafers, relaxed his grip on his briefcase,

By: Acacia Cousins

Grade 12

Mount Boucherie Secondary School

Sixteen years of living

And I could never understand How anyone could possibly Hate the rain

The Suitcase

feigned the kind of oblivious air that he knew made him a target. Thus far, however, he had earned little more gratification than was gained from twisting the wrists of attempted pickpockets and returning glares to the local homeless population.

Tonightthough,asBillwassettlingintohisgrungyroom, his eyes fell onto a rust-coloured suitcase protruding from within the closet. Something inside him lit up, a violent excitement that he hadn’t felt in years, and he began to approach it.

Something brown and crinkled poked through the unzipped corner. Bill caught the laminated paper between two fingers and retrieved it smoothly. Bill’s eyes lit up and he said hello to Sir Robert Borden. With morbid curiosity, he pulled back the zipper. The brownish bills spilled out across the floor. Bill crouched down to scoop up the glorious things but froze as he came face to face with the slick black revolver. His breath caught, but it was only a moment that he felt the fear stronger than the excitement.

His brain was already crafting a hundred different possible scenarios. He saw how it would all go down. Bill had an idea.

Delicately, he removed the revolver and tucked it into the deep inside pocket of his coat. Carefully tucking the bills back into the suitcase, he removed the loaded bag, replacing it with his own alligator skinned briefcase. Even with his name engraved in the corner and ten other identifying contents, Bill wasn’t taking any chances. He withdrew another receipt from his wallet and scrawled a lazy note.

I appreciate the down payment. Bill thought for a moment and then added his address. Without a backwards glance, Bill left the filthy room as it was and made his way easily back to the train station. He would not stop for dinner on the way home. Whoever the suitcase belonged to; Bill was sure that they would be back for it before long.

Bill’s fingers curled comfortably around the handle of his new toy; he would be waiting.

On Gloomy Days

Although I suppose Somebody could argue The same of the years I have spent Despising the sun

When the sun comes out I am a creature

Pale, poor sighted, Slithering under rocks

To escape the blinding light

The skin-scorching rays

Swimming under floppy hats

Sunscreen and UV protective clothing

But when the sky is gray

Possibly accompanied

By a light sprinkling of raindrops

I am just like everybody else

Living, breathing, walking down the street

Happy to be outside and alive

In the gloom I am free

Freesummerevents

Havefuninthesunwithactivitiesforallages&abilities

CustomerAppreciationDay

June14|7a.m.-6p.m.|ParkinsonRecreationCentre

Joinusforindoor andoutdoor celebrations atPRCwith freeaccess tothe pool andfitnesscentre alldaylong! Tryprogramdemos, learnmoreaboutsummeractivitiesand events plus, games, prizes,andPark& Play willbeon-site!

DancinginthePark

Wednesdays,July12-August30|6:30-7:45p.m.|StuartPark

DancealongwithaqualifiedinstructoratStuartPark-tryadifferentstyleofdanceeveryweek. Noadvanceregistrationisrequired.Justshowup!Allages,abilitiesandexperiencesarewelcome.

SunsetYoga

Wednesdays,July12-August30|8-9p.m.|StuartPark

Enjoy thesunsetwithayogapracticetaughtbyaqualifiedinstructor atStuartPark.Noadvance registrationisrequired.Justshowup!Allages,abilitiesandexperiencesarewelcome.Pleasebring yourownyogamat.ThiseventfollowsDancinginthePark,whichrunsfrom6:30-7:45p.m.Joinus forbotheventsorjustone.

Roller Nights

Tuesdays,July11-August29|7:30-9:30p.m.|StuartPark

ComerollwithusatStuartPark!Bringyourinlineorrollerskates(plusyourhelmet)foranevening ofskatingwithfriends.Noadvanceregistrationisrequired.Justshowup!Allages,abilitiesand experiencesarewelcome.Skaterentalsareavailableon-site

Park&Play

WeeknightsinJuly&August|5-8p.m.|Variousparks

Park&Playisafree,all-ageseventthatrunsweeknightsfrom5-8 p.m.throughoutJulyandAugust atvariousparksthroughoutKelowna.BringthewholefamilytoPark&Playtoenjoyrecreational activitieslikesoccer,runningparachutes,discslam,catch,beanbagtoss,giantboardgames,relays, inflatablesandbouncers,andmore.Plus,Park&Play“pops-up” withevenmoreopportunitiesfor familiestoplayandconnectonWednesdaymornings!

CulturalDistrictWalkingTours

Saturdays,July8-September30|10a.m.-12p.m.|238QueenswayAve

CulturalDistrictWalkingToursfollowahistoricalrouteofapproximatelytwokilometres, highlightingthepastandpresentofKelowna’sCulturalDistrict,startingandendingattheKelowna VisitorCentre.Learnmoreatkelowna.ca/culturaldistrict. Pleasenote:notouronAugust5orSeptember2.