Page 1

issue one June 2013



student made at Cape Cod Academy




photo caption contest



Welcome to CURRENT, Cape Cod Academy’s student-made magazine! This is our very first issue, produced by the the class of 2016. We plan to continue publishing CURRENT for the next couple of years before passing it on to another class. CURRENT will include a variety of articles, including interviews, photographs, poems, videos and more. We’ll show activities, accomplishments and writing of the whole school. Come see what’s new at CCA – what’s fresh, what’s inspiring, what’s current. Writing and art work including photography are by CCA students and teachers. Outside sources may be enlisted to enhance articles. Please let us know if you have article ideas or writing or art work for us to include in future issues. ! ! ! ! ! ! -Fiona

Current 1.      Running or moving rapidly.

2.     Now passing, as time; as, the current month.

3.   Passing from person to person, or from hand to hand; circulating through the community; generally received; common; as, a current coin; a current report; current history. 4.     Commonly estimated or acknowledged.


Fitted for general acceptance or circulation; authentic; passable.

6. A flowing or passing; onward motion. Hence: A body of fluid moving continuously in a certain direction; a stream; esp., the swiftest part of it; as, a current of water or of air; that which resembles a stream in motion; as, a current of electricity. 7. General course; ordinary procedure; progressive and connected movement; as, the current of time, of events, of opinion, etc. current150499.html#Z36WtZZbm41vgKqv.99

June 2013


recent school activities

pp. 5 - 50

Writing grades k - 8 pp. 51 - 71 Writing grades 9 - 12 pp. 72 - 120 Student made video links pp. 121- 123 Comics caption contest 124 - 125



Currents work on the Senior Day article featuring Raheel Chaundry ’13

A Senior Reflects on his Time at Cape Cod Academy by Alex Bernardo ’16 On Friday, May 3, the senior class of 2013 had their last day at Cape Cod Academy. Senior Day included the yearbook dedication, senior gift presentation and slideshow of the graduating class with pictures from kindergarten through senior year. I got the opportunity to sit down with one of the graduating seniors, Raheel Chaudhry, to ask him about his journey at CCA. Raheel began attending Cape Cod Academy when he was in fifth grade. He believes that CCA gave him better study habits than he would have gained at a different school. He told me that before applying to college you need to

A Senior Reflects on his Time at Cape Cod Academy take the SATs. Before the SATs, you take the PSATs. Colleges don’t see PSAT’s. You take PSAT’s for practice and to figure out strategies for taking the SAT. Raheel admits that the tests are “long, hard, and annoying,” and advises students to not procrastinate when preparing for them. The third group of tests that are required before applying to college are the SAT subject tests. Since these are specialized areas of focus, it’s important to know the material very well.  “First, you go through colleges and find the ones you like. You look for things you want and things you want to do.” With the help of the computer program Naviance, Raheel picked the colleges that he thought would be a good fit and applied to them. He filled out his common application, used for all colleges, and submitted essays that he had written at the end of his junior year. Once he’d heard back from colleges, Raheel narrowed them down to three. He visited the schools so he could try to find which one he’d fit best. Raheel’s advice on college visits is, “Pick ones that feel more like home.” He believes that it’s important to find a college that’s personally best for you. Interviews at colleges can be done early in the process or during the deciding phase. Raheel recommends doing interviews at reach schools to have a better chance of getting in.

A Senior Reflects on his Time at Cape Cod Academy About Senior Day Raheel has mixed emotions. “There were some tears. Saying good-bye to a place where you’ve been for so long is hard, but there is so much still ahead.” Raheel will be attending Bentley University in the fall. He encourages all CCA students to “Take philosophy class with Mr. Andrews!”

yearbook dedication to Dr. Kerry Brown, English teacher and college counselor

CURRENT issue one

SENIOR GIFTARRIVES! Megan and Mikey present the senior class gift

The senior gift was conceived of by Mike Nolf (Sierra’s dad) who thought that the cart could be pulled to various athletic events at the playing fields and in the gym. People could purchase snacks, bottled water and Cape Cod Academy logo clothes and supplies. Mike’s maintenance colleague Jared Long was the chief carpenter on the job. Mike had assistance from Lee Plummer and Richard Holmes. A number of seniors helped paint the cart. Materials cost five-hundred dollars. The cart has battery-powered LED lights and metal retractable stabilizer feet to ensure safety for the purveyors inside and the customers outside. The chassis and wheels are garden cart materials. Senior Max Choate and his team of Blue Key students will create a business plan for the cart. The Parents Association is helping with the project.

june 2013

2013 Interscholastic Sailing Association's Fleet Racing Championship

Academy’s Sailing Team Competes in Nationals

Antilles prevails in Mallory Trophy Races on Lake Michigan as CCA Comes in a Close Second

Sailing team members in Chicago May 12

Mallory Trophy second place 2013 Cape Cod Academy

ISSA Doublehanded National Championship for the Mallory Trophy The Mallory Trophy is school sailing’s oldest trophy. It was selected and presented to the then-IYRA (now ISSA) by Clifford Mallory and his son, when the elder Mallory was Commodore of Indian Harbor Yacht Club in Greenwich, Connecticut, and President of NAYRU, the predecessor of US SAILING. The early competitions were in Atlantic-class sloops, hence the sterling silver model of the original Atlantic on the trophy. In recent years the competition for the ISSA Nationals has been in double handed dinghies in a two-division format. This was initiated when the U.S. Naval Academy took over hosting the event, after many years at the U.S. Coast Guard Academy in keel sloops and Ravens. Prior to that stewardship, the series had been hosted by clubs, and once by a school for their first venture into dinghies, Fireflies at St. George’s in 1959. The Mallory competition now is rotated among the ISSA districts. Chicago Yacht Club is proud to host the 2013 Interscholastic Sailing Association's Fleet Racing Championship in May. The top high school teams from around the country who have qualified from their own districts will be coming to Chicago to square off for the championship. The event will begin on Friday with check-in and practice time on the water, and the racing will take place on Saturday and Sunday May 11 & 12 out of the Belmont Station. p=DynamicModule&pageid=366085&ssid=277380&vnf=1

ISSA Doublehanded National Championship

A report of the days’ events

Saturday May 11: The sailors showed up to Belmont Harbor on Saturday morning greeted by sun and flat water, a calm SW wind blowing over Lake Michigan. A Division hit the water around 9am for a first warning gun at 945. The morning brought some shifty breeze as the front arrived, shifting between SW and NW with big oscillations keeping both the sailors and the Race Committee on their toes. As the breeze built, it continued to shift right, and the RC had to raise a few postponements to make sure that the course was fair and square. Around noon, the breeze built dramatically, topping out with at a solid 22 knots, a few gusts reaching 28kts on the race course. By 230pm, it had settled in the upper teens, gusts in mid-20s from the NNW, and continuing to shift N. A few boats flipped and swamped, but for the most part the fleet was handling the big wind just fine, and so the RC continued on! During some of the biggest breeze mid-afternoon, Minnetonka’s (Minnetonka, MN) Bdivision boat’s pintles both broke off mid-race, and so the spare boat was switched into the rotation. As the clouds rolled in and the wind went further right, temperatures dropped and the sailors’ endurance was put to the test. By the end of race 8A, the breeze had died down to around 6kts, and by the time B went out to sail races 7 and 8, the wind had shut off. So just about every condition was seen today! Winds shifted all the way from SSW to NNE throughout the day, gradually shifting through 180 degrees. The was fleet able to sail just off of the sea wall at the mouth of Belmont Harbor, and despite the unseasonably chilly temperatures (wind chill in the low 40s), the spectators were able to watch some great racing from shore. Racing was called at 545pm. Three protests, two redresses and one scoring inquiry were filed resulting in one DSQ and one granted redress. The Antilles School of St. Thomas, USVI sits atop the fleet with 62 points, followed by Cape Cod Academy with 88, and Severn School with 110.

ISSA Doublehanded National Championship

A report of the days’ events

Sunday May 12: A much colder and windier day on Sunday! Wind chills were in the mid-30s at the 8am call time as the sailors arrived. The breeze had piped up from the NW and the lake waves were already starting to build. By the time the first warning went off for race 7B, the temperatures had improved a bit and the breeze was a solid 15+ knots from the NNW. As the day progressed, however, the conditions got much more fluky as the wind shifted towards the east, huge oscillations and pressure changes in each race really mixing the fleet up and keeping all of the sailors on their toes. Antilles and Cape Cod Academy were neck in neck for much of the day, jockeying back and forth in first and second. Hotchkiss was able to creep up and have a solid hold on 3rd place by midday, followed by Point Loma and Severn falling behind. With such unpredictable conditions, however, one good or one bad set by any team could really mix up the standings, so teams were fighting hard for their spot until the very end. By the end of the day, the breeze had swung all the way to the east and had settled in between 6-10 knots. The Race Committee remained alert, swinging the course around and keeping it as square as possible. They were able to get off three sets in B and two in A for a regatta total of twelve races in each set. Two protests were filed, resulting in one DSQ. The range of conditions proved to be a true test for all of the sailors at the championship, but ultimately the title of the 2013 ISSA High School Doublehanded National Champions goes to The Antilles School of the USVI, winning by just four points over Cape Cod Academy from Osterville, MA. The Hotchkiss School from Lakeville, CT finished the event in 3rd place. Antilles senior Ian Barrows with crews Agustina Barbuto and Ian Coyle dominated A-Division, finishing with just 43 points over the next team with 87. Chase Quinn and crews Tatiana Chui and Elizabeth Pemberton from Cape Cod Academy won B-Division. Congratulations to all of the sailors for a wonderful national championship event! Thanks to all of the volunteers on the water who helped with Race Committee, mark set, judging, safety and rotation boats, breakdowns and media, and for helping to make the 2013 Mallory Championship such a successful event!

4:30 PM 5-12-13

FINAL RESULTS MALLORY CUP (top 5 of 20 finishes)

1 Antilles School

A 2 1 3 1 2 12 1 4 13 1 1 2 43

St. Thomas, VI

B 3 7 6 4 14 2 13 20 11 3 13 12 108 5 13 22 27 43 57 71 95 119 123 137 151 151

2 Cape Cod Academy Osterville, MA

A 12 8 6 9 3 11 6 16 10 7 14 11 113

B 1 1 1 7 4 3 3 5 1 10 1 5 42 13 22 29 45 52 66 75 96 107 124 139 155 15

3 Hotchkiss School Lakeville, CT

A 10 DNF 17 20 4 2 20 2 5 13 3 1 118 B 4 2 3 1 9 7 2 1 14 7 2 2 54

14 37 57 78 91 100 122 125 144 164 169 172 172 4 Point Loma HS

A 17 11 5 4 9 7 2 11 12 6 2 13 99

San Diego, CA

B 7 11 2 9 7 11 4 9 2 8 17 4 91 24 46 53 66 82 100 106 126 140 154 173 190 190

5 Severn School Annapolis, MD

A 4 6 4 6 1 14 5 3 11 14 15 4 87 B 15 5 12 15 10 10 10 16 8 9 5 6 121 19 30 46 67 78 102 117 136 155 178 198 208 208


“Lorem Ipsum Dolor Set Ahmet In Condinmentum. Nullam Wisi Acru Suscpit Consectetuer viviamus Lorem Ipsum Dolor Set Ahmet. Lorem Ipsum Dolor Set Ahmet In Wisi Acru Suscpit Consectetuer viviamus.”

Director Sarah Fachada

Beauty and the Beast Dazzles costumes and!

Beauty and the Beast behind the scenes by Emma Balkin

A show is much more than you, the audience member, will ever see! If you have ever been part of a cast or crew of a show, you likely understand that this year’s production of Beauty and The Beast required just as much time and effort from the crew members as the actors and actresses. Each costume piece, from a dress down to the shoes, had to be arranged, planned and altered to fit the needs of the actor or actress in order to make them appear as their character would!  For the past three years, ninth grader Natalie Fachada has been in charge of this huge job.  Natalie first did the costumes when she was in seventh grade for Guys and Dolls, and last year for The Wedding Singer.  When interviewed, Natalie explained that it can be very difficult to fit the needs of everyone in the show, especially given budget and time constraints.   Natalie was extremely creative while designing this year’s costumes, from attaching fake fur to grey sweatshirts to represent wolves to making a candle hat using poster board, cotton balls, and tissue paper.  Did you enjoy the awesome choreography during the show?  Not surprisingly, eleventh grade dancer extraordinaire Molly Murphy was in charge of choreography this year!  At each rehearsal, she led the cast in a physical warm-up with fun dances to “Ease On Down The Road”, and then proceeded to teach us all the dances and movement for the large group scenes.  Art teacher Mrs. Rapp did a wonderful job painting the sets to make the stage feel like a French village and a castle, as did the various students who assisted her.   Jason Fachada, eleventh grade, did the sound and lighting for the entire show, with the help of teacher Mr. Murphy operating the spotlight.  Lighting and sound allow the hard work of the cast and crew to truly be seen and heard!  Senior Ben Taylor, who will be greatly missed next year, was the student director this year.  Having been involved in the musical since he was in sixth grade, he was the perfect person to fill in when Mrs. Fachada or Mrs. Wannie was sick or unable to come to rehearsal.  I had the pleasure of being the stage manager this year, and I got to know the entire cast and crew.   Everyone involved in this years show deserves to be recognized, as every single person clearly dedicated much of his or her time to making this years production great.  It was a wonderful show and I think we can all look forward to next years show!  Anyone interested in acting in next years show, or, especially, helping behind the scenes, can contact Mrs. Fachada for more information or talk to a previous cast or crew member. 

CURRENT issue one

QUEBECTOUR Adiam condimentu m Purus, in consectetuer Proin in sapien. Fusce urna magna,nequ e eget lacus. Maecenas felis nunc, aliquam ac, consequat vitae, feugiat at, blandit vitae, euismod vel.

Sixth Graders’ Annual Trip Was Great Fun!French food, Charles, motor coach idol, the sugar shack, firing muskets, capture the flag, chicken dances and more! Quebec Log by Zac Ezzaoui Day 1 On Tuesday everyone got ready for a long bus ride to Quebec. The journey was long but eventually we got there. When we got there we met our tour guide and unpacked. Then we took a walk through Lower and Upper town. We walked for a little bit before we walked to dinner. We went to a restaurant called Cotes le Cotes where we had a very good dinner like Beef stew and Chicken. After a great meal we headed back to our hotel where we had a good night sleep.

QUEBECTOUR Day 2 Our first full day in Quebec was great! We woke up early and walked to breakfast at probably one of my favorite places in quebec “Le Cochon Dingue”. We had a great meal of hot chocolate and Croissants. After that we met the bus to head to Village Huron. There we got to go into long houses and learn about the native american life and more interesting things. Later we head back to town and Charles our tour guide recommended some places where we could get a good lunch. I went to “Casse Crepe Breton” and had delicious crepes. After our break around town was over we met up at the plains of abraham. There we played capture the flag. There was no winner because the french team tied the british team. Soon after that we went to meet to historical figures: General Montcalm and General Wolfe. There we learned how to load muskets and fire cannons. We also learned how to perform surgery . After a fun day we had to end it with fun dinner. We hopped on the bus and drove to the sugar shack on the way we had a few rounds of something we call motor coach idol. At the sugar shack I learned that maple syrup is good on almost anything just not water. After that we learned some dances and listened to some cool music. Then we went on a tractor ride and even learned a lot about maple products.

JUNE 2013

We met up at the plains of abraham. There we played capture the flag. There was no winner because the french team tied the british team.

Day 3 Thursday was a incredibly fun day for us. We enjoyed crepes again for breakfast. After that we walked all the way to the ‘Musee la civilization� to check out some cool exhibits. I liked the video games. Next we went to the best mall ever. It had a amusement park inside of it which mostly everyone loved. There was an awesome roller coaster which everyone went on. After a cool experience at the mall we jumped on the bus and headed towards Montmorency Falls. It was a very wet place but yet is was very fun we walked down the side of the waterfall and we got very wet. we walked back to our bus wet and soggy. We took a swim at the heated swimming pool when we got back to the hotel. Then we took our time to rest before we went out to a very fancy dress dinner. We had a lot of toasts. After that we went to a theatre to perform cool plays. After a long day we went back to our hotel for a good sleep.


We jumped on the bus and headed towards Montmorency Falls. It was a very wet place but yet is was very fun we walked down the side of the waterfall and we got very wet. we walked back to our bus wet and soggy.

JUNE 2013

QUEBECTOUR Later we headed back to town and Charles our tour guide recommended some places where we could get a good lunch. I went to “Casse Crepe Breton� and had delicious crepes.

After that we met the bus to head to Village Huron. There we got to go into long houses and learn about the native american life and more interesting things.

CURRENT issue one


School of the Museum of Fine Arts

photos by Tina Wang

CURRENT issue one


Photos by Tina Wang

The trip to Boston continues with a fashion show at the Castle at Park Plaza in the old armory landmark building.

JUNE 2013

Boutique Field Trip to Boston

photos by Tina Wang

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“Lorem Ipsum Dolor Set Ahmet In Condinmentum. Nullam Wisi Acru Suscpit Consectetuer viviamus Lorem Ipsum Dolor Set Ahmet. Lorem Ipsum Dolor Set Ahmet In Wisi Acru Suscpit Consectetuer viviamus.� Leo Praesen

wisi a risus. Justo fermentum id. Malesuada eleifend, tortor molestie, a fusce a vel et. Mauris at suspendisse, neque aliquam faucibus adipiscing, vivamus in. Wisi mattis leo suscipit nec amet, nisl fermentum tempor ac a, augue in eleifend in venenatis, cras sit id in vestibulum felis in, sed ligula. In sodales suspendisse mauris quam etiam erat, quia tellus convallis eros rhoncus diam orci, porta lectus esse adipiscing posuere et, nisl arcu vitae laoreet. Morbi integer molestie, amet gravida suspendisse morbi, amet maecenas, a maecenas mauris neque proin nisl mollis. Suscipit nec nec ligula ipsum orci nulla, in posuere ut quis ultrices, lectus eget primis vehicula velit hasellus lectus, vestibulum orci laoreet inceptos vitae, at consectetuer amet et consectetuer. Congue porta scelerisque praesent at, lacus vestibulum et at dignissim cras urna, ante convallis turpis duis lectus sed aliquet, at tempus et ultricies. Eros sociis cursus nec hamenaeos dignissimos imperdiet, luctus ac eros sed massa vestibulum, lobortis adipiscing praesent.

Roman Wedding

Ninth Grade Heads East on Fieldtrip by Lucy Prothero

On the morning of Thursday the 23rd, the ninth graders, accompanied by Ms. Cetta and Mr. Martin, loaded into a bus, excited for our field trip. We were going to the Cape Cod Museum of Natural History, a wonderful facility in Brewster. When we got there, we were greeted by a very helpful staff, and soon got to explore the museum. Although not very large, the place was filled with collections that sparked interest in all of the students. There were Native-American pieces, stuffed animals (especially birds), a faux-shark watching tank (along with an informative movie about the creatures), a beehive, an aquarium, and more. It also had a wonderful room with large windows, allowing everyone to look at the wildlife that passed by. Even Natalie, the class’ avid birder, snapped photos of birds she hadn’t yet gotten this year. As we walked around the museum, we saw live animals such as a blue lobster, jellyfish, flounder, sea stars, and more. The happy-looking skate seemed to be the favorite of my classmates. When we were done exploring, we gathered to watch a movie about sharks. Everyone seemed to enjoy it, and it

taught us lots about the incredible animals.

Eric Blanco

After that was over, it was time for, in my opinion, the best part of the day: the walk. A very kind and knowledgeable volunteer was our guide for the walk. Before we went out, he told us about the different kinds of things, both living and non-living, that we would see in the ecosystems. The walk led us through the forest, across the marsh, and to the beach.

Eric Blanco

Along the way, our guide would stop us to talk about a certain type of tree, plant, or animal we had come across. There was even an osprey nest on the marsh that we observed for awhile. We soon came across an ancient calendar that used stones and shadows to tell the time of year. When we got to the beach, the class broke off into groups, taking pictures and collecting interesting shells and plants. When we all met up, our guide told us about the items everyone had brought in. Some of the things found were horseshoe crabs, a moon snail shell, and unidentifiable bones. When we were done with that, we trekked back to the center and then to the bus. All in all, the class learned a lot about ecosystems and had a great close-tosummer day to spend with each other. Hey, even the impending thunderstorms held off!

Eric Blanco



Axis of Hope Works with 11th Graders Students Learn Negotiation Skills Written in agreed-upon terms by representatives of the groups

“We propose making it easier for immigrants to get working and educational visas.� -excerpt from the summary below by 11th grade workshop participants

Having completed a day-long Axis of Hope conflict resolution workshop [divided into three groups with differing viewpoints] on U.S.-Mexico immigration issues we have reached the following agreements on the issues of citizenship, education, and security. Citizenship We propose making it easier for immigrants to get working and educational visas. After they get visas, they must demonstrate their responsibility in order to acquire potential green cards and citizenship. In needs to be easier for existing Mexican immigrants to get visas, if they are honest about their situation. If they decline visas, they will not get social benefits. In addition, a tax cut, or other method of compensation, for the employers of unskilled immigrants workers will be given. (continued next page)

Axis of Hope Works with 11th Graders Students Learn Negotiation Skills Written in agreed-upon terms by representatives of the groups

Education No illegal immigrants should be allowed to attend a public school without visa. They would have to contribute to public education system through paying taxes, which a working visa would enable them to do. The amount of tax-payer dollars required to fund the public education of the millions of illegal immigrants is something American tax-payers simply cannot afford. It needs to be more efficient for immigrants to obtain visas. To increase the efficiency of the visa application process, the immigration department should hire more officers to reduce the waiting time of the application process.

Security America needs to tighten up border security. Although the unskilled immigrants’ employers are not fully for tight security, we have agreed to establish a lower minimum wage for immigrants on working visas until they become citizens. Agricultural business can still make a profit. Once immigrants earn citizenship, they will be able to earn the regular minimum wage. If this is carried out, the unskilled labor employers will agree to tighten security, along with other groups.

Class of 2014


Lower School Dance Marathon

Alexandra Bernardo and Emma Doe run a lower school dance marathon to raise money for breast cancer research. They danced for half an hour, leading the kids in some simple dance moves. In the end, $75 was donated to Friends of Dana Farber, a cancer institute in Boston. -Alex

emma gets the marathon organized

CURRENT issue one


Ivy Chang playing the guzheng at the Shelter benefit concert

The Speech in China for Shelter from the Storm By Ivy Chang ’14 I would like to share my experiences in America and my reason of doing Shelter from the Storm. Last year coming back to China, when I got off the bus in Boston Logan Airport, I forgot to take down my backpack from the carrier, because I had too much stuff. When the United Airline workers asked me for the passport, I found that I could not take the flight, because my passport, cash, credit cards and laptops were all in that backpack. After I realized that, the bus totally disappeared. I felt crazy and ran like a crazy woman to try to catch the bus, wearing my flip-flops. My fear made me feel helpless and hopeless. At that moment, I was caught by a policeman asking why I was running so fast. I explained my predicament

CURRENT issue one


and asked him for help. He soon decided to let me get in the police car and we tried to catch the bus together, but that did not help. Then he drove me back to the terminal and began to contact the bus center. The memory is still fresh in my mind. He made more than twenty times calls around 5 o’clock in the morning for that backpack. Calling the bus office…nobody answered…calling station office…busy line… Fortunately, they found my backpack, telling me the driver would send the backpack to me at 7:00, and then the policeman left. When that driver drove an empty car and sent the backpack to me, I thought he would be angry about with me. However, he surprised me with a big hug and a smile and said “good luck”. Although I got my backpack, I missed the flight. To my astonishment, United Airline managers had already helped me schedule another ticket without any additional payment. Originally, my flight was supposed to take 20 hours and fly cross the Pacific Ocean. Because of this new ticket, I would arrive four hours early by fighting though the North Pole. All went well. I said “thank you” to all those people whose names I did not even know. “Thank you” to all those who worked hard in helping me, but here end of their work only becomes the beginning of my story. My mission is not to clearly remember these

CURRENT issue one


Shelter crew and performers people’s name, but to pass on this love. That is the simple reason why I participate the Shelter from the Storm, an organization benefiting veterans at risk, and why I want to share this love story with every one. Just like my admired person, Confucius, said: “The way of Great Learning lies in letting one’s inborn luminous virtue shine forth, in renewing the people, and in coming to rest in perfect goodness”. I am modern by birth but traditional by choice. I am a paradox, an enigmatic trope for all things fashionable and conventional. I play Guzheng, a traditional Chinese instrument, originates from my hometown, Xi’an. When I was in China, I just wanted to get the highest certification of Guzheng. Nevertheless, after I went to America, encouraged by Mr.B, the founder of the Shelter from the Storm, I began to perform solo. I did enjoy the performance and made talented friends though Shelter from the Storm. By the time I became a junior, I no longer just wanted to sit on the chair and played difficult melodies that few people understand. I felt constrained by this imposing machine and could not escape the eternal cycles of

May 22, 2013


Dancers perform at Shelter from the Storm concert to benefit atrisk service veterans. of practicing and find my own “Guzheng”. Actually, the Shelter from the Storm performers here not only play their instruments in conventional way, they also compose their own melodies, cooperate with other performance, even play a couple instruments together. I was enlightened by their ideas. Therefore, I played with the blindfolded last time, although I made mistakes in a couple of measures. I will combine Chinese traditional dance, swordsmanship, my own composed melody, three costumes and Guzheng together, using sight, sound and the other senses to show the prosperous Tang dynasty. After finishing the rehearsal, I recognize that my creative inclinations do have a niche in mainstream society. Creativity, which I learned in America, is “inventing, experimenting, growing, taking risks, breaking rules, making mistakes, and having fun.” People always use “active”, “calculated” and “persistent” to describe me. That is true, but I see myself more in the word, “uncertain.” Uncertain of how would this China trip happen, I had been planning this trip for 7

CURRENT issue one


article writer Ivy performs on the guzheng at various ages. months with Mr. Brown. He and I connected with some schools in China, and tried to find the financial aid from some agencies. Problems have a tendency of staying around, changing their shape but retaining their complexity. I heard many disappointing words from my classmates, but I never given up. With uncertainty, Mr. B and I still kept solving problems. Luckily, some schools and people are interested in our idea, Shelter from the Storm, helping us to make it happen. I did have frustrations, but living up to the expectations that Mr. B and others set for me, I told my self: “Follow your heart; do not give up.” “Uncertain” is a word describing who I am, but not a word being who I am. When I played the Guzheng blindfold, I cannot see any strings. Nevertheless, with this uncertainty, I still follow my heart and persist to play forward, not knowing what lies ahead, but understanding that if I keep playing, it will end on the right note.

shelter from the storm 2013 benefit concert cape cod community college

CURRENT issue one

VISIT FROM INDIA Truman works on his issue two article by listening to a taped talk with our Indian visitors.


Seventh Grade Bird Watching Competition

Mrs. Albis and Mr. Crowell hold an annual bird w a t c h i n g competition with their students. The grade is split into two teams, each including one teacher. While they compete as well, the teachers’ scores

Paulina Zuckerman and Fiona Doherty By

Every year, as the days grow warmer and birds call brightly from the branches, you can find groups of seventh graders wandering about campus with cameras. Upon first glance, it might make you wonder what they’re doing and they   aren’t   in class, but if you only ask the reason becomes clear. In the spring, Mrs. Albis and Mr. Crowell hold an annual bird watching competition with their students. The grade is split into two teams, each including one teacher. While they compete as well, the teachers’ scores don’t count. Everyone tries to photograph as many species of birds as possible and surpass the opposing team. Pictures of rare or special species bring a team extra points.

       This year the seventh graders have been very successful. Mrs. Albis says that this has been one of the best years that they have done the competition, and many students have even found more species than she and Mr. Crowell.

As spring arrives, the seventh graders also observe natural changes in a plot of land. They go out every week for fifteen minutes and use their senses to discern what has changed.


JUNE 2013

Seventh Grade Bird Watching Competition, con’t.

Miles Goldenberg

Many students have even found more species than she and Mr. Crowell. As spring arrives, the seventh graders also observe natural changes in a plot of land. They go out every week for fifteen minutes and use their senses to discern what has changed. When they do so, the opportunity comes to snap some bird pictures. As a class, they have taken two field trips to go birding, one to Provincetown and

the other to Audubon, where went hiking.

photographed by the grade. Mrs. Albis was right – it’s a new record, and the competition isn’t even over yet! Christian Limburg, who’s on Team Albis, shared her enthusiasm. He added that students really love the projects. Not only are they fun, but they help them to become more observant. Abi Balkin and Michelle Guo say that “it Mass is a great opportunity to they open up to what is around us.”

We asked Briannah Rice, a very excited Team Crowell member, what she thought of the competition. She replied that she was “enjoying it; it’s really fun!” She wants to see both the greater and lesser black-backed gulls and a common sanderling. According to Briannah, at least 120 species have been

Currently, the student who has photographed the most birds is Zachary Roman. He’s seen at least ninety three species! Zach says his favorite bird is the merlin. He is part of Team Crowell, which is in the lead for now. Mr. Crowell says that “the competition will be close.”

Seventh Grade Bird Watching Competition He added that students really love the projects. Not only are they fun, but they help them to become more observant. Abi Balkin and Michelle Guo say that “this is a great opportunity to open up to what is around us.”   

Miles Goldenberg

Miles Goldenberg


CURRENT issue one


The holder of the conch shell may speak.

7th graders bring the island to school

The teams discuss rules and protocol.

setting map by Mariah

"The candle-buds opened their wide white flowers.... Their scent spilled out into the air and took possession of the island." (Chapter 3)

What would you rename Lord of the Flies ?

The Devil Inside You The Devil Within A Time for a Leader Death Island So Close, Yet so Far The Beast Within The Beastie Swept Away

Shattered Civilization The Lost Civilization Uncivilized Civilization Stranded The Breakdown of Society Into Darkness Fire Island Uncivilized

Destruction of Civilization Not Gone Yet Fear Island Sticks and Stones The Real War Savages The Order of the Conch Rescue

Chris and Tim Keep Academy Fields Green By Emma Balkin


One of two dedicated groundskeepers here at Cape Cod Academy, Tim Grimm has been studying horticulture and related fields for many years. His journey to working at CCA began when he studied horticulture at Cape Cod Community College. Later, he studied in the master gardeners program

that was run through the Town of Barnstable, which led him to secure a job as the grounds supervisor at Chatham Bars Inn. Over the course of many years he gained experience, learning all there was to know about grounds keeping and gardening. When asked about field maintenance, Tim explained that proper fertilization and irrigation practices are key! For fertilizer, only organic and heavily nitrogen based fertilizers are used on the CCA grounds. As Tim put it, the fertilizer is essentially, “chicken poop!� CCA has sixteen acres of irrigated turf, all of which needs to be fertilized three to four times per year. The irrigation systems are entirely self-controlled, meaning set automatic timers control them. Tim explained that although the actual tasks of maintaining the grounds are difficult, the biggest challenge he and his co-worker face are time constraints and consistently reaching the high standards they desire.

Chris, left, and Tim

Chris Gonnella has his associates degree in science in golf course management. He also has a bachelor’s in business management from the University of Central Florida. He has worked on two major golf course construction projects and was the golf course superintendent at Redtail in Florida. At Cape Cod Academy, Chris embraces many challenges involved in mulching, planting and tree work. Maintaining one of the best school soccer fields, Chris is an expert on dethatching, aerating and 3.8 inch screened topsoil.


The cast of Great Expectations takes a bow with Mr. Bellamy

Mr. Bellamy Talks Creativity He loves helping students By Claire, Paulina and Morgan

When asked the question “what is creativity?” film lover and history teacher Rick Bellamy simply responded with how he needs creativity to survive. Without creativity he said he’s simply unhappy. With his eighth grade history class and two clubs he manages, he tries to include it (creativity) in everything he and the kids do. He loves helping his students explore their creative depths.

While he watches these weekly films, he not only observes, as the average moviegoer does, but he absorbs many details unperceived by the normal eye. Finally, he applies what he learns at the movies to his own work, adding another level of skill to it.

By composing his own rendition of Great Expectations for drama club this year and even writing out full novels and screenplays on his own time, Mr. Bellamy is “creating something out of nothing.” To create things like these, one must have and use imagination. He said he is inspired by his students a lot and urges them to be as imaginative as possible. He believes everyone can be creative, but said there are some difficulties in getting there. “ Te c h n o l o g y gives opportunities to create although sometimes the Internet bombards and makes it hard to be original.” He said. Scenes from Great Expectations            Although some people may have this trouble, Mr. Bellamy most definitely does not. For instance, he makes many documentaries, creates original Hokahey Productions films, edits his movies, and runs his own movie blog filled with insightful opinions about film, both old and new.            

Now you may be wondering, how does he fuel his creativity for all of these projects? He says his greatest inspiration is simply to “see movies at least once a week.� While he watches these weekly films, he not only observes, as the average moviegoer does, but he absorbs many details unperceived by the normal eye. Finally, he applies what he learns at the movies to his own work, adding another level of skill to it. Even speaking in passing with Mr. Bellamy can give you a muchneeded dose of creative thinking. What you do with it is up to you.

a sample of senior project reports 6/4/13 Elena Chen and Tatiana Chiu Cape Cod hospital: worked with technicians, lab samples, patients in ER waiting for doctor, pill expirations Elena: “…interesting because I won’t work in medicine.” T.C.: “…interesting because I am going to be a pharmacist.”

Jon Benoit and Cherie Long New England Society of Abandoned Animals: worked with at-risk animals, developed empathy to share with others. Cherie and Jon: “We gained a lot of insight into the work of NESAA.”

a sample of senior project reports 6/4/13 Grace Grieco Bird Protection and Management Unit of the Cape Cod National Seashore: worked with interns to protect piping plovers, took photos for catalog, identified and protected nest, GPS’d birds. Grace: “Before I didn’t know anything about the birds on Cape Cod. Now I realize the importance of protection. I also didn’t realize that crows are among the smartest of animals.”

Tom and Tommy (Tom Neil and Tommy Evanko) UK Soccer Development: learned the transformational value of sport + service to kids through soccer mainly on the beach at Hyannis. Tommy: “We will continue volunteering this summer.” Tom: “It was interesting to watch the younger kids practice the moves of the older kids and to see the all-stars reaching their potentials.”

a sample of senior project reports 6/4/13 Ben Taylor Cape Cod Conservatory of Music: Worked on a vinyl listening station, music library including donated archival documents of important musicians, press catalogue, garden. Ben: “The kid and adult musicians at the conservatory are incredibly persevering.�

Writing k - 8


If I had a pet snake like Blake, I would like it to make my bed. I don’t like to make my bed, because sometimes I put my covers down. Most of the time I forget to pull the sheets up.

CURRENT issue one




article by Olivia Doe ’20

Anywhere you go on Cape Cod you can find it: litter. Hiking on the Cape, you can see that it is easy to find litter. Littering is stopping plant growth. Pollution is choking the roots, making the plants unable to grow.

Animals can be harmed by litter, too. They can get caught in plastic, six-pack rings, plastic bags, fishing lines, and many other kinds of garbage. Birds get stuck and can’t fly away. They get tangled in fishing lines, and get their heads stuck in jars. It may be hard to believe, but people can get hurt by littering. When people are driving, they try to avoid it on the road. This can lead to dangerous accidents. Trash carries loads of diseases as well. When you litter, you are taking money away from people and the community. People are not going to want to live there because the values of their houses are decreasing and the roads are going to look like your town doesn’t care. This is a problem that can easily be changed, so why just ignore it? When you can go to your local beach, park or even when walking on a sidewalk you can help out. Bring a trash bag on your walk, bring gloves. Help clean up Cape Cod. Let’s influence others who visit here to keep Cape Cod looking beautiful. It’s as simple as that. So, remember - Don’t Ignore It… Stoop Down For It!



The wind is the thing with the strength that you lack, You try to walk forward, it pushes you back. beats upon windows, slams every door,


Whooshing and gusting but still it wants more. Maeve Lonergan

Life. An open book, just waiting there to be read. To learn very important life lessons, maybe about love, hate, sorrow, war, cheer, jealousy‌ Who knows what YOU will find when you open that book of


june 2013

DANGER:Rock Salt, the Silent Killer of Pets By Juliet Walking your dog is good, right? By walking your pets or letting them free in the winter you may be putting them in danger. Hundreds of animals are getting seriously ill or dying because of rock salt. When you walk your pets they step in the rock salt and it gets stuck in their paws. When they get into the heated house, their paws warm up and the salt begins to melt. Once heated up the salt can warm to175°F which not only burns their mouth, but their skin, throat and digestive system. When the salt is consumed, it causes dehydration, liver failure, and pancreatitis. The anti-freeze in it can be deadly if congested. A national survey of more than 500 consumers living in cold weather states showed that 62% of consumers are not aware that rock salt can harm their pets and 60% use rock salt or salt-based ice melters. One victim, Amanda Walsh, was devastated when her cat, Bubbles, had to be put down due to eating rock salt. Bubble was missing for a week. When they found her she was lying in a garden not able to move, in deep pain. There is no way we will completely get rid of all rock salt, but we can take little steps, like using pet friendly rock salt, never allowing your dog to drink from a puddle, even if it looks clean, or using a warm wash cloth to wash down your pet’s paws and fur when they come inside. My family and I are huge animal lovers. We have two puppies. One is mine. His name is Isaac and we are very close. If anything ever happened to him, I would feel completely lost. I am sad for the many whose pets have died because of rock salt. I would never want Isaac to be in any danger so I feel I should take these little steps toward preventing animal illnesses and deaths. I urge you to do the same!

JUNE 2013

A Happy Dolphin is a Free Dolphin By Emily

“Dad, look over there! They’re beautiful!” I was boating with my dad in Wellfleet Harbor when we saw a pod of seven dolphins. It was the most amazing thing I have ever seen. I thought to myself, “Why would anyone ever want to capture these beautiful animals?” Dolphins need to be free. Captivity is wrong for the dolphins because they get stressed, they need socialization, and they can be abused while in captivity.                                    Dolphins that are captured to do shows get stressed. The dolphins have to swim around in circles all day, but in the wild they could swim 40 miles or more per day. Did you know that swimming with dolphins hurts them? Well, it is true. The dolphins get stressed and can turn on us.                                 If there is more than one dolphin in a large tank, they have a better chance of surviving because they are social animals. They travel in large groups of about 12 called pods. They communicate with each other by using clicks and whistles. They take care of each other when they are sick or injured. Dolphin trainers often withhold food so they will do tricks for their food. When they get fed, they get fed dead fish so they get less exercise while swimming for them. They should get fed live fish because they feel like they are in their natural habitat.

A Happy Dolphin is a Free Dolphin After about seven years in captivity, dolphins can die from capture shock, pneumonia, intestinal disease, ulcers, chlorine poisoning, and other stress related illnesses. In the wild, dolphins live up to 45 years, but in captivity, they are lucky if they live past ten.            Dolphins always seem happy, right? They always have a smile on their face. Well, they’re not. Unlike us, dolphins have no facial muscles so they always look happy. What about the splashing? Is it a way for them to show excitement? No. It’s a way to show their anger and frustration.


A Happy Dolphin is a free Dolphin So please protect these beautiful, wild animals and remember:Â A free dolphin is a happy dolphin.

Dolphins are marine mammals closely related to whales and porpoises. There are almost forty species of dolphin. eb image quest

Rachel Wrightson



Adopt a Pet to Save a Life “They had little cards on each cage talking about the cat’s personalit ies... “

Sadly four to five

Four years ago I adopted my

million dogs and cats are

cat Piper from the MSPCA in

euthanized and ten

Centerville. I was really

thousand are abandoned

excited. When I got in the room

each year in the U.S.

with the cats I wanted to adopt

alone. People need to

them all! I kept telling my dad,

start adopting animals

“I want this one, I want this

from shelters. Many people think that

one.” There were so many friendly cats.

animals in shelters are there because they

The people there were great in helping

did something

me find a new cat. They had little cards

“wrong”, were abused, or have bad

on each cage talking about the cat’s

behavior. The truth is it is never the

personalities and characteristics. It was a

animals’ fault. Most are there because of

hard choice, but I finally decided. Piper

peoples’ personal problems.

is playful, loving and lots of fun. I know

Animal shelters have lots of happy healthy animals. The prices at shelters are also a lot less expensive for

I made the right decision in adopting my pet. Each year more than half of the

the same, if not better, quality animals.

animals in shelters are killed rather than

Twenty five percent of the dogs in

adopted. There are six animal shelters on

shelters are purebreds. For every animal

Cape Cod ready to assist you in your

bought from a pet store, an animal who

choice. If you are thinking of getting a

might have been adopted dies in a

pet I strongly urge you to consider

shelter. When you adopt you are saving

adopting a rescue animal.

two lives; the animal you are adopting


When I go over to one of my

Sports at School for Younger Kids By Jack Muse

There are 76,000,000 kids in the U.S. and 35,000,000 kids in the U.S.


who play sports. If you do the math, that’s 41,000,000 kids in the U.S. who don’t

houses, I

play sports and that’s 41,000,000 too many. There are a lot of schools in the U.S.

can’t stand it

that don’t offer sports for younger kids and it’s just not fair. I realize that many

when we just

parents have jobs where they work late and can’t take their kids to a sports

stay inside

program outside the school campus. Yet, it’s so important that kids socialize with

and play

each other out of class. I happen to go to a school that doesn’t offer sports for

video games.

younger kids. P.E. is good but it needs to go to a higher, more sophisticated level. It doesn’t have to be competitive, but I urge my school and other schools to have a parent or older kid teach a sport at the end of the school day. I am a very athletic person, I play hockey and lacrosse. I want to go pro in hockey and become an NHL player. Hockey has been an inspiration for school, because if I want to be an NHL player, I need good grades. I think that sports helps kids for that reason. Whenever I go over to one of my friend’s houses, I can’t stand it when we just stay inside and play video games and watch TV all day and don’t participate in any sports activities. If kids don’t start playing sports at a young age and just watch TV it becomes a habit. So I encourage you to play a sport. Realize, that if you are not playing a sport it’s not too late to start.

CURRENT issue one


yani shows me his story

A noontime adventure with the first grade By Ben Ayres

I’m heading over to have lunch with my pal Yani Ciampi in the first grade room. I do get a little lost on the way over but I find the room.  The place is empty.  It’s just I and the chairs, the chairs and I, and the various displays and bins that make increasing sense the more I look. I hear voices in the hallway, outside voices coming in. I stick my head out the door and sure enough here comes the gang, in from recess, heading for lunch. 

A pack of girls dance by. The sun is still in their faces. One has a birthday hat on and she’s adjusting it.  Next it’s the boys, braking.  Yani’s among them, expecting me.  “Buon Giorno, Yani!” I greet my friend. “Hi, Ben,” Yani smiles. He shows me around the room, especially the writing area where he keeps his writing book.  There are lots of things to do in the writing area, especially if you investigate the writing bins. We eat lunch at Yani’s group table.  I take out my container with last night’s chicken and asparagus.  For a second, Yani just sits there without anything. Then Ms. Gillian appears. And the girl with the birthday hat who is now adjusting her glasses and hugging a large plastic container of cupcakes.  She is not letting those cupcakes out because Ms. Gillian is here with a stack of big, flat boxes.  Mmmm.  The smell of warm, cheesy cardboard. 

CURRENT issue one


Everyone is happy because the birthday party is also a pizza party and besides the cupcakes look very good through the walls of the plastic container. I’m excited even though my chicken and asparagus taste groovy enough. Now, licketysplit, everyone has his or her slice.  The room gets quiet.  Pizza’s pretty quiet. Some kids have another slice.  Some start asking me questions. Yes, I do like first graders. Yes, I do like cupcakes best of all.  Yes, I have a dog.  He looks like a bear, though. Now the cupcakes come out.  The frosting finds its way around.

CURRENT issue one


CURRENT issue one


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Donec at lacus ac mi vehicula bibendum. Donec feugiat tempor libero. Nam uut, massa. Maecenas vitae ante et lacus aliquam hendrerit. Curabitur nunc eros, euismod in, convallis at, vehicula sed consectetuer posuere, eros mauris dignissim diam, pretium sed pede suscipit. Fusce urna magna,lorem neque eget lacus. Adiam condimentum purus, in Proin in sapien. Fusce urna magna,neque eget lacus. Maecenas felis nunc, aliquam ac, consequat vitae, feugiat at, blandit vitae, euismod vel, nunc. Aenean ut erat ut nibh commodo suscipit. Fusce urna

magna,neque eget lacus. Maecenas metus non quam. Cras erat. Aliquam pede. vulputate eu, estmorbi tristique senectus et netus et male. Aliquam pede. Proin neque est, sagittis at, semper vitae, tincidunt quis Malesuada quis, egestas quis, wisi. Donec ac sapien. Ut orci. Duis ultricies, metus a feugiat porttitor, dolor mauris convallis est, quis mattis lacus ligula eu augue. Sed facilisis. Morbi lorem mi, tristique vitae, sodales eget, hendrerit sed, erat. Vestibulum. Nam uut, massa. Fusce urna magna,neque eget lacus. Maecenas vitae ante et lacus aliquam hendrerit.

current issue one


Adiam condimentum Purus, in consectetuer Proin in sapien. Fusce urna magna,neque eget lacus. Maecenas felis nunc, aliquam ac, consequat vitae, feugiat at, blandit vitae, euismod vel.

May 22, 2013


june 2013


5th grade writing workshop; Jason lighting Beauty and the Beast; Yani drawing his racoon


Writing 9-12


Why would you come to Cape Cod Academy? By Josh Gorin

Why would anyone want to apply to CCA? Why go to CCA instead of a public education? CCA offers a new experience towards people of all types. If you are athletic there are many types of sports offered to all ages. If anyone is interested in music, there is a great music department that accommodates all skill levels. Are you an artist? There are many types of art classes you can take. Your classes will be small and people will really get to know you. If you need help from any teacher, they are there to help at a moments notice.

At Cape Cod Academy everyone is thought of as responsible people and are given a lot of freedom. CCA is a small school that is a fit for everyone of all ages, and interests.

People at CCA are welcoming. The grades really feel like one big happy family. When I first came to CCA I had been to public school all my life. I had classes with over three hundred people! But when I arrived, people immediately wanted to know who I was and where I had came from. In CCA, everyone is thought of as responsible people and are given a lot of freedom. CCA is a small school that is a fit for everyone of all ages, and interests.


C R E A T I V E WRITING CLASS STORY By Lizzie Worrilow 13

In the small town of Osterville, which is full of life in the summertime but completely sleepy during the winters, there stands a prestigious independent day school called Cape Cod Academy. Cape Cod Academy is on a large, neatly kept parcel of land, which makes people wonder if there is an alarm that goes off whenever a dandelion arises on one of the three soccer fields.   There are threehundred-and-fifty students from kindergarten through grade twelve that develop the best of the best relationships with their teachers.   The hallways are all the same, with tiled floors and walls that are as white as most of the student body’s skin tone.  On the outside, there are cement sidewalks connecting the grey-shingled buildings.  It is an ideal school, a place without hate, and where the students’ smiles are wide from the moment they enter CCA, to the time they hold their diploma.

           Being the nerd I am, there was no question that I would return to Cape Cod Academy that Friday evening to get my AP Statistics book. I barely had an A- in the class, and if I didn’t grab my book for the weekend, I would be doomed.  I was planning on submitting all of my Ivy League applications in two weeks, and, with grades closing in one, I knew one more test could make or break me.              “Mom!” I called, as I was about to leave the front door. “I’m going out! I’ll be back soon.”                       Excitement flashed over my mother’s face, with hopes that her daughter would be going to a social event.   “Where to?” she asked, responding with an excited grin across her face.             “School,” I replied, as I caught an immediate drop in her smile through our front French window. 

As I arrived to school, I noticed that the senior parking lot was full of cars, which was weird for this Friday evening in January at eight o’clock. As I stepped out of my white GMC, I felt a chill down my spine, and it was from something different than the twenty-two degree weather.   Ignoring it, I rushed into senior corner, but couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw the commons lit up like a disco ball and tall figures gathered in small groups. I grabbed my AP statistics book from my top-shelf white cubby and peeked over the corner into the now-sparkling Davis Commons.             I did a double-take at what I saw.  The entire faculty of CCA was in the commons enjoying themselves and having a party?  This could not be real.             I pinched myself, thinking that I was dreaming; this was so bizarre.  But instead of being woken up from a dream, I was startled as two people rushed by me.  With a brush of wind on my face, I turned and hid behind the white cubbies.  From the corner of my eye I noticed that our college counselors, Mrs. Bellamy and Mr. Brown, had walked right by me into the library.  They settled into their seats alongside our headmaster, Mr. Petru, and Upper School head, Ms. Cetta.  Without being

noticed, I crawled over the tiled floor into the carpeted library and hid behind Mr. Ayres’s desk. To my surprise, he had every single version of Hamlet and Alice in Wonderland under his desk.                        I immediately put away my surprise as Mr. Brown, oddly in a suit instead of his normal comfortable sweater said, “Well folks, I’m really not too confident in the Class of 2013.  They don’t seem to be excited about colleges, and I don’t think their grades are up to par to get in anywhere.”                       Mrs. Bellamy agreed. “They haven’t been trying hard at all.  Even the top of the class hasn’t been getting good enough grades.  An A- in AP Statistics is the grade the smartest student at the top of the class is getting; it’s ridiculous.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. Didn’t they know we all were trying hard? The teachers had been so difficult on us recently!   My entire grade and I had been applying to colleges on top of the numerous assignments and tests they had been giving us.             Ms. Cetta spoke up. “Mr. Petru, what should we do about this?”             “I think we should e-mail all of the colleges the students have applied to, and suggest they don’t accept them.  Another year at CCA would do all of them good,” He responded.             Hearing that, I wanted to scream at them, and tell them that I had been working hard since middle school to get a physically impossible 4.50 GPA.   I couldn’t let my anger get to me, though, because I was, in fact, hiding, and soon enough I heard librarian Mr. Ayres and former English teacher, Mary Page, who I couldn’t believe was back, coming into the library, too.  Avoiding them, I slid out of Mr. Ayres’s side window, but left a crack open just to hear what they were saying.              “It’s true, it’s true,” Mary Page said. “The only reason I had them erase linking verbs was to merely torture

them. They couldn’t learn anything from that!”             “And all of the ILT pamphlets we made, especially on Montana 1948,” Mr. Ayres replied. “Useless!”                       I was once again shocked, remembering these tedious freshman year assignments, and was about to leave, when I realized I had dropped my AP Statistics book in senior corner.  I needed to go back in to get it.  As I came around the corner from the library window to the front entrance of CCA, I was held back in the freezing air, as history teachers Mr. Lewison and Mr. Andrews walked outside.             

“The French Revolution?” Mr. Lewison said, with a grin across his face and a Klean Kanteen in hand. “What kind of idiots do those kids think we are? There was never such an event!   It’s hilarious teaching them historical events that never even happened! If they only knew that you and I had written all of the primary documents they’ve been reading.”                       “I must admit, it is hilarious watching my Contemporary Issues class debate over events and issues that aren’t even real,” Mr. Andrews said. “Everything that we’ve been telling them is a lie!”                       “We are truly pure geniuses.  What time is it?” Mr. Lewison asked.                       “It’s almost eight-thirty,” Mr. Andrews replied. “We’d better be going to the Science Lecture Hall for the presentation being made about the class of 2013.”                       And with that, they left.  I couldn’t believe everything that I was hearing.   This couldn’t be true!   This was some sort of monstrous alter-ego of Cape Cod Academy.   What happened

to the helpful teachers? The ones you could confide in about anything? Not only was I worried about myself, being seen as not doing my best in my top position of our grade, but what about all of the others? This was unfair! ! I opened the front door and found the commons entirely empty.  Balloons were on the floor and silently moved with the wind from the open door. I knew what I had to do.  I would go to this presentation in the Science Lecture Hall and stop this madness once and for all. I walked across the commons with big strides, planning what I would say and how I would act.  My AP Statistics book remained on the floor in senior corner.

As I tiptoed down the stairs of the science center, I heard many voices, and all were familiar.            “I think Art should be mandatory for their class,” the AP Statistics and Economics teacher, Mrs. Agostinelli, said, “Maybe it will give them peace of mind.”             “I think AP Economics should be mandatory for them,” the art teacher, Mrs. Tanzer, replied. “That way, they’ll be too preoccupied with studying so they won’t have time to lounge around senior corner.”             I was so confused.  Sure, our class had our differences, but at the end of the day I thought we all got along fine and were an intelligent group of students.  There were no major rivalries, and we seemed to be nice to one another and our teachers.             A very familiar voice, which I was used to hearing every day, spoke in a loud, angry voice. “CAN EVERYONE FILE IN NOW?!” the woman screamed.  I couldn’t believe who I had just heard.  Mrs. Jones?! The most soft-spoken, kind Spanish teacher was now talking like a vicious army commander!   What was Cape Cod Academy coming to?

                    All of the teachers had settled down in the swiveling chairs when I peeked around the corner.   History teacher, and People to People leader, Mr. Larry Brown was at the front of the lecture hall with Mr. Petru and Ms. Cetta, and almost caught eyes with me before I slid around the corner again.  After Mr. Larry Brown sacrificed his well-known rubber chicken, Ms. Cetta began to clear her voice. “With little discussion, we have come to a conclusion for this year’s seniors,” she said.             Mr. Petru continued, “It is clear that this group of students has not been working hard.” A lot of the teachers agreed, with “Yeah” as a common response. “A lot of them have applied or are applying to prestigious schools already, and we just don’t think they are ready to go off to college.  We are going to contact the colleges and require this entire senior class to stay back and repeat their senior year.”

A lot of teachers seemed to approve, when I heard another familiar voice speak up. “What about the top of the class?” Mrs. Johnson asked. I always knew she had my back. “They have worked so hard since middle school here at CCA. They all have applied to Ivy Leagues.”                       Mrs. Agostinelli responded, “The top girl has an A- in Statistics.  Without a solid A, she will not succeed in pre-med like she’s planning to.”             “That doesn’t even make sense,” Mrs. Johnson said.                       “It makes perfect sense,” Ms. Cetta said. “Class of 2013 will be staying back this year.  We will break the news to them on Monday.”             Just then, I couldn’t stop myself from jumping into the Science Lecture hall and screaming, “BUT THAT’S NOT FAIR!”                       Every single faculty member turned their head around and stared at me.  I stood there frozen with nothing to say while they all looked at me angrily, except for Mrs. Johnson, who had a big smile across her face.

           “Get her,” Mr. Larry Brown said calmly, and at the same time, foreign language teacher Mr. Murphy yelled, “Holen Sie sich ihr!” in German. I panicked. Thirty-three teachers were charging after me, with the athletic teachers: Mr. Crowell, Mr. Kenney, Mr. Lewison, and Ms. Santos leading the group.   I should have worn better running shoes.  But how would I have known this was going to happen?! I had nowhere to go.   I raced up the science center stairs two floors and out the door connecting to the main building.   I took a quick left and the three leaders kept running into the main building, confused.  I ran down the outside stairs beside the pendulum and found Mrs. Wiley, Mr. Sears, Mrs. Vogt and the rest of the math department at the bottom.  Mrs. Vogt screamed, “Okie dokie smokies!” as they saw me, and I screamed and ran towards the Upper School gym.   I raced up the stairs to the right of the entrance.  I heard footsteps racing up the stairs after me as I ran to the hallway above the gym.   I took the third right into Mr. Bellamy’s room, shut the door behind me, and locked it.

I barely had time to breathe as I ran to lock the doors to the connecting rooms. Attempting to sit down on the floor, I tried to catch my breath.   I again couldn’t believe this was happening.             “Hi.” A voice spoke softly, and I awkwardly jumped.             At the other end of the room, a boy in my grade was sitting on the floor as well.  This particular boy was the one I had practically been in love with since I had arrived at CCA years ago.             “What are you doing here?” he asked.             “Trying to hide from these insane teachers!” I screamed. “What happened to the CCA that we’re used to? They have planned to keep all of us back this year!”             “You heard that, too? I was in senior corner picking up my AP Statistics book for Monday’s test, when I overheard them.  They chased me in here,” he replied, holding up his AP Stats book. “I can’t believe this; my future is going to be ruined.   I’ve worked on getting into Dartmouth for years.”

                 Suddenly, we heard a knock on the window.  I jumped again not-sogracefully but then realized that it was Mrs. Johnson who was knocking.  The boy and I went over to the window, and after looking back and forth three or four times, we broke it open with one of Mr. Bellamy’s props from drama.  Mrs. Johnson was alone. ! “This way,” she said, as we cautiously climbed through the broken window.  Just as we did, Mr. Bellamy’s door opened and Mr. Silva, Mr. Kelly, and the rest of the science department came in with beakers and test tubes in hand.                       “They’re out there!” Mr. Kelly screamed, and they went charging towards the window.

Without looking back again, the three of us went running towards the Lower School playground as fast as we could. It was especially difficult to breathe in this cold weather.   The temperature had dropped since the last time I had been outside: about 10 minutes prior on the stairs next to the Science Center

Pendulum.                       Past the lower school classrooms, past the greenhouse, and past the playground we ran.  We were almost at the senior parking lot when I remembered.  I had an AP Statistics test

on Monday. I turned towards the main building and ran even faster.                       “Where do you think you’re going?!” the boy screamed at me.             I didn’t answer because I was running as fast as I possibly could towards the front door.  Out of breath, I opened the door and nearly slipped into senior corner.  My book wasn’t in my cubby. I panicked and then heard English teacher Mr. Martin screaming, “There she is!” and footsteps progressively getting closer.  I noticed my AP Statistics book on the ground and tried to escape out the front door.  Not only was Mr. Martin there, but Mrs. Ciampi, Mrs. Oliver, Mrs. Albis, and Mrs. Packard were blocking the other opening to the cubbies, exactly where I had begun my journey to the library.                       “Where are you going to go now?” the four women said simultaneously, in an oddly creepy tone.  This was strange, as I had always thought of them as pleasant.             I felt the same chill that I had felt as I had stepped out of my GMC earlier.. but wait, no, it was actually a draft.   The window was open! 

Breaking a sweat but without further hesitation, I jumped out of the window from senior corner and darted towards my car. The same boy from Mr. Bellamy’s classroom had waited for me.  His car was parked next to mine.             “Are you all right?” he asked, and then suddenly kissed me.  “We’d, uh, better get out of here.”             “Yeah, um, see you, then.” I was delusional for a short second but then realized there was a mob of angry teachers running into the parking lot.             Buckling my seatbelt, I whipped out of the parking lot just as the teachers were approaching my car.  The boy was right behind me and followed me out of the winding driveway of Cape Cod Academy.                       My eyes shot open, and I glanced over at my alarm clock.  It was seven o’clock; I was going to be late! I jumped out of bed and threw myself together.   I had fallen asleep doing homework!   Quickly, I grabbed my belongings and put them into my backpack.   The last item I picked up was my AP Economics book.

           I didn’t know what I would say to the teachers today at school.  I didn’t know how they would break the news to us.  Stay back another year?  It broke my heart even to think that.             As I arrived to school, I noticed that the senior parking lot was full, since I was running late.  As I stepped out of my white GMC, I felt a chill down my spine, and it was from something different than the twentytwo degree weather.  It was the fact that the teachers would break the news to us today. I rushed into senior corner, grabbed my belongings for the first three classes of the day, and went straight towards Mrs. Johnson’s room for advisor meetings.  She would know how to fix this situation.           “Lizzie,” she said, “I’m so proud of you! Congratulations on getting into your first college choice!”

My face turned white. Just then, a familiar male face, my best friend who I had always secretly loved and who I thought had been sitting across from me in Mr. Bellamy’s room, walked in.  Maybe he would remember, and I wouldn’t actually be crazy.                       Instead of asking me about what had happened last Friday night, he asked, “Are you ready for this AP Econ test, Lizzie?” but then hesitated. “Or maybe not… you don’t look so good.”             “I’m ready,” I replied and shook the situation off as we walked to Mrs. Agostinelli’s classroom down the hallway, where we would soon find out over the intercom that Mr. Bellamy’s window was being repaired.

Writer LIZZIE with SAGE backstage at SHELTER 2013

The Transcription of Videos Made by Dante Fields By Ned Recording #1 Hello, whoever is watching this. I am Dante Fields. If you have miraculously found this I am either dead or I am alive‌ somewhere. I will be telling you the story of how I arrived on this island and what has happened so far. The first thing I will tell you about is why I even arrived on this island. When I heard the news, I was overjoyed. After seven years away from Italy, I would finally be able to visit Rome again. I would be able to see all my old friends that I had tried to stay in touch with. Though I do like Pennsylvania, Rome is way better. In Rome you can walk almost anywhere you want to go. There are tons of plazas around the city, that you can shop and eat near. Here you have to drive everywhere and the food is way worse than it is in Rome. I was born in Rome, where I lived with my older brother, mom, and dad. My mom was from Italy and my dad was from Pennsylvania. When I was born my brother, Matteo, would have been two years old. When I reached about the age of nine, my dad wanted to move to America. Although both my brother and I promptly disagreed, my mother eventually consented and we moved to America. During our first year in America, my sister, Nicia, or Niccy as she likes to be called, was born. The news was that my mom and dad had decided that during the summer we would be visiting Rome again. We would see family, Mateo and I would catch up with friends, and Nicia would finally be able to see Rome. Recording #2 It was going to be a long flight. As I walked down the boarding ramp, I checked my ticket. I was going to be sitting in seat 32f, a window seat. I would be sitting next to my brother and my mom; my

The Transcription of Videos Made by Dante Fields dad and sister would sit in the middle row. For some reason, my parents had chosen American Airlines for us to fly with. I have no idea why they would choose them. As we were taking off, the pilot notified us of a coming storm. I brushed it off, looking through our window as the plane started its ascent into the sky. Nearly half way through our flight, the storm the pilot notified us about struck. The windows were pelted with rain, streaking across the windows like slash marks. As this was happening I was trying to fall asleep to the rhythmic kicking of my seat from the people behind me and the constant pouring of the rain. As I was closing my eyes, I heard the crashes of thunder around the plane. Suddenly, I heard a crash and saw a blinding flash of light even through my closed eyes. I bolted awake, sitting fully upright and looked out the window. Through the darkness of the night I saw flames burning the wing. The fire was reflected against the obsidian water below. As I was watching the flames, chaos ensued on the people in the plane. Attendants ran about, trying to maintain what order was left in the plane. Over screeching, the pilot tried to instruct people about what they should do, but not many were listening. You may be asking yourself what became of me in this mess. Well, I did not succumb to the chaos of the plane. I was totally calm during the whole mess. You see, I was knocked out by the people behind me. The lady had flipped out and had kicked my seat so hard that it knocked my head against the seat in front of me. From the moments in-between being unconscious and what I have been told happened, I will retell you the events of the rest of the flight.

The Transcription of Videos Made by Dante Fields Recording #3 From what I have been told, I was lucky that I was knocked out. My brother told me that after I blacked out, my mother started to fight with the lady behind us. Eventually, my mom slapped the lady. My mom would never do that, never. I can’t imagine how terrified she must have been at the time to have done that. The engines on the right wing, the side closest to me, had exploded, leaving behind floating pieces of metal in the ocean. A piece of shrapnel had nearly broken through the hull of the plane and the plane was covered in oil. Supposedly the plane had started to spin counterclockwise uncontrollably. The missing wing had messed with the plane’s flight, making it fly downwards into the flaming waters. We had crashed into the water near an island, which was lucky, kind of. Whatever, I’m here now. Now you’ve almost caught up to me. Welcome to the Island of Fools. Recording #4 I hate this fly infested island. Sure, I’m happy I’m alive but why did we have to land here, here of all places. I guess I better tell you about the island. I’ve only been around half the island so far. I think I’ve been here about three months; I think I lost track a while ago. I think this video camera says the date when you upload it to a computer. Wow, I got off track. I have explored the west side of the island and I’m pretty sure there are no people inhabiting this island. The west side of the island is shaped like a pear with a bite mark cove at the bottom. Near the top and bottom of the island there are marble cliffs overlooking the ocean, but in between these two places there are very pale beaches. Covering most of the island there is a forest, which gets thicker the farther into the forest you go. From every point on the island there is ocean as far as the eye can see. Now you may say, “hey that doesn’t

The Transcription of Videos Made by Dante Fields Recording #5 Sorry I got a little angry last time. I guess I should try and continue the story from where I left off. All my family survived the crash, including me. They all would bring me to the island. Later that day, I would awake. I was laying on one of the plane’s blankets on the beach. In front of me, my family had tried to build a fire, to the best of their ability. We weren’t the most “let’s go camping!” type of people. On the sand across from me, there was my brother. My mother and dad weren’t far away but I didn’t know where they were. I still don’t know where my sister was that day. I think it was about midmorning slash early afternoon, the sun was nearly half way up the sky. As I was sitting up, my brother said, “Hey Dante you ok?” I said I was good if you didn’t consider not being in Italy and being on the island. He responded “Hey at least you’re alive” and “I’m sure we’ll be rescued”. Mateo is nice to have on the island; he is usually always optimistic and a little serious. He keeps me sane on this island. He makes me feel like we might actually make it off this island. Sometimes, I am worried about him though. What if he’s only being like that to keep up our spirits and he’s actually just keeping it all in for our sakes. He can be like that sometimes and it never ends well. A crunching of bushes drew my attention away from my brother and towards my mom and dad. My mom, Oriana, is very close to me. Our relationship is way better than the relationship between my father and me. My mom that day looked really anxious, worrying about how all of were going to get off this island. It was weird that day. I remember thinking that it looked like she had more grey hairs than before the flight. That kind of scared me a little. My dad, Paul… wow it’s weird calling my parents by their first names. Well anyway, he looked less worried and as confident as ever. Sometimes he has to be “large and in charge” and oh my God, is it annoying when he is. As you might tell, my opinion of him is not so … how should I say this… nice, as some of my opinions of my other family members. As they sit down, Nicia skips along

The Transcription of Videos Made by Dante Fields towards us. I guess she was blocking out the situation we were in; I don’t know it might just be her. Nicia is that pesky sister who annoys you but in the end you both really care about each other. Since she was born in America, a while after us, I’m not as close to her as to Matteo. She also has the attitude of an American to her. Now I know that sounds weird but it’s kind of true. People in America and people in Italy or Europe have a different feeling or attitude to them. I don’t know how to explain it. Another family issue is that our family has some language issues. That sounds weird... whatever, you’ll understand. You see my mother, brother, and I talk between ourselves in Italian. So my conversation with Mateo was in Italian not in English. I just suspect you’ll speak English, hopefully. Well anyway, if any of us talk to our dad or sister we talk in English. Though my dad and sister do speak almost fluent Italian, they prefer to speak English. So our relationships are sometimes strained that way too. I think that’s enough for one recording. Hopefully I have enough batteries to keep this going for a while. Recording # 6 Well, I think I should speed this up a little – we are still not at the present so far and we are already 5 videos in. So, hmm, where was I? Since I woke up here, about 4 weeks ago, nothing terribly bad has happened. There have been no jaguars, no cannibals, no other humans, and sadly no salvation. Having to survive on this island is kind of okay. It definitely keeps you occupied and there are lots of things to do. You think we might have thought about shelter during the time that passed. Of course, no, we didn’t until a night later when it started to storm, and of course, we needed shelter. Trying to find shelter with my family is interesting. My dad and Mateo would not stop arguing about which direction to go, neither one wanting to go the other’s way. My mother and sister wouldn’t help and I’m stuck there thinking “just find us some damn shelter!” Eventually, we arrived on the north side of the island and

The Transcription of Videos Made by Dante Fields found a cave on the cliff side. Luckily there was no bear in the cave, especially since no one seems to care about common sense in my family. Let’s s---------------------------Rest of Recoding Lost------------------------------------Recording #7 Darn did I seriously get water on this thing? Wow, that’s not good. Well anyways, we have finally caught up to the present. I think from now on I’ll do a video once a week. This video may be a little short but, I don’t know, nothing spectacular happened. Recording #8 I celebrated my birthday this week. I turned 17. Wow, if I was in the US, I would finally have gotten my own car. Ugghhhh, of course I had to be stranded here. It was funny – you know in the Harry Potter movie, how on Harry Potter’s birthday he draws in the sand a birthday cake? Well, I got that for a cake. Too bad Hagrid can’t save me here. That’s kind of sad isn’t it? I wonder what my family in Italy thinks about us not showing up and not calling. Wait, maybe they called our home, and realizing we aren’t in Italy or in the U.S. notified someone, and they might realize our plane crashed! Oh my God, please tell me we might actually get off this island. I’m tired of having to sleep in a cave and having to hunt and gather for food. Sure the island is nice, but I do miss society, however weird it is. Recording #9 A storm just hit the island. I can’t find the others. We all thought it was just a little bit of rain and it would clear up soon. We were wrong. Where are they? Ohh “merda”, the fire! Agh. Why did

this have to happen to me? Where’s the other wood? Ughh, this is impossible. I can’t make a fire with wet wood. Where are they? Seriously they are starting to worry me. They better get back soon.

The Transcription of Videos Made by

Dante Fields

THE VIEW FROM... THE AFTERNOON By Paulina Zuckerman With a brisk pace, and a grumbling tummy, I set off toward the nearby cafe. The buttery aroma that stuck in the cold air caressed my brachycephalic snout, luring me closer. A petite chav, with a voice no lower than the wheel squeaks of an old Beatles era Jaguar, dropped the hammy and cheese sandwich he had just bought and was ‘bout to take a bite of. “Mum! Mum!,” he shrieked. “I’ve dropped me sandwich!” With all my inner compassion, I did him a favour and saved his mum a ten step trip. My mouth decided to think for itself as it cleared the area ‘round his feet, taking that dirty  sandwich. It was no hassle. Afterall, “One lads trash is another pug’s treasure.” In five trots worth, I reached my  final destination of the day. As of the moment I sat down, a young bloke burst, dangerously helmetless, off the main street. He skidded onto a Brighton beach boardwalk. This particular boardwalk was held in occupancy by me. Though my focus was centred on my acquired prize, I could not help but watch him from the corner of my eye. According to some, I hold a whacking  body... which, fortunately for them,  I take as a compliment. The tires of his bicycle must’ve slipped on the sandy planks for he tumbled downwards with the efficiency of a mouse driving a car. Now lying partially on the walk but mostly on my baby’s bum soft fur, he snapped his eyes up towards mine. I glanced him. The odd curiosity omitting from his brown-eyes stare contradicted his smile. His taut short torso and

THE VIEW FROM... THE AFTERNOON pokey thighs on my back was quite uncomfortable, so, I wiggled myself out from underneath him. Upon doing so, a quid slipped out of his pocket. I attempted to show no interest.  Dignity led me to choose the path of striding away,  all the while, kicking sand from my paws  like the proud circus horses in the annual Sheffield parades. I forgot everything that had just happened as my concentration was switched toward one thing- the sandwich. The absence of the scent  forced me to recall moments ago when it became squashed under the clumsy twat.     In turning back to try and re-find it, I found myself staring at the wee quid which I discovered had writing on it:     ‘MAXWELL RIGBY     GREEN DAVIES SCHOOL FIFTH YEAR     SHEFFIELD ENGLAND’     I thoroughly examined this note but could not quite decipher what “GREEN DAVIES SCHOOL” meant. I felt a presence behind me but obviously couldn’t turn soon enough.     As air quickly replaced the rough wooden boardwalk under my paws, my overweight stomach sagged upon a gentle pair of hands showing me how to fly. I had no idea where we were going but I hoped it was warm. THE VIEW FROM...... THE SUN’S FIRE I’d imagine people are staring at me right now. A fall off the bicycle ought to arouse at least a bit of commotion among them. Shutting my eyes and attempting to hold completely still, I hoped perhaps they

THE VIEW FROM... THE AFTERNOON THE VIEW FROM...... THE SUN’S FIRE I’d imagine people are staring at me right now. A fall off the bicycle ought to arouse at least a bit of commotion among them. Shutting my eyes and attempting to hold completely still, I hoped perhaps they would think I was dead and would walk away. Or maybe that I was taking a quick nap and the entire scene of me falling was on purpose. The daft cabbage of a pug I landed accidentally on, shoved me off of itself, and waddled  into the distance. Though, it had an unpleasant personality, at least it saved me from a dire fall. I flipped onto my side and stood up quickly, brushing sand and other sediments off of my old duffle coat which covered a white collared shirt and tie I wore beneath. If fact, my working class hero of a mum bought the coat... probably from a cave man, right before the dinosaurs went extinct. She is married to my Pup, who couldn’t remember the last time he wasn’t depressed (even if he tried). The obese pug came waddling back over and just stared at the ground. I thought that I should take it and use it for my own purposes, seeing that it had no real home. Reaching down, I picked up my quid with my name on it, as well as the pug, and decided to carry on. I got back unto the main street, placing the pug into the bicycle’s basket. We rode in silence to the beach. Time could have stopped, seeing as to how fast we made it down there. The sunset was just about to put on it’s play. I could tell that  today’s parky weather nipped the pug harshly, since it was shivering. I took it out of the basket and sat down next to a collection of sea grasses, shoving the pug into the toasty space between my coat’s flap and my hip.

THE VIEW FROM... THE AFTERNOON My interest in animals soars beyond what the knackered professors at school have got to teach me. I’ve always enjoy helping animals and aspire to be the next James Herriot. Most likely, though, I willn’t ever hear my name, Maxwell Rigby, and his name, James Herriot, in the same sentence. We’ve not enough in common and have only an ickle chance considering who birthed me. My parents want me to go into hominid medicine but and forbade me from ever having encounters with animals that were over five minutes. Me Mum is the pressuring one but me Pup just goes with whatever she says. This pug could help me out dearly in learning more about anatomy and other bodily structures. If I were to perform a successful vivisection on it.... I watched as the colours in the pug’s eyes changed from a light pink to a deep scarlet. Reflections on the seawater projected the fading fire our way, casting a pink hue on myself as well. The pug sighed and scruffed itself deeper into the folds of my coat, reversing with the role of the sun, who was also trying to hide away. As it’s sun-faced eyes drooped, a feeling of childish innocence omitted out and enveloped me. The sky’s nomad quickly made it’s getaway. Fading from radiance into slow coldness, we knew the sunset was over. Nighttime blue had joined our moment and now, kindly, has asked us to leave. I scooped the pug up again and placed him back into the bicycle’s basket. THE VIEW FROM..... THE EVENING Maxwell, overcome with a certain calmness, rode the long and winding path homeward. His dark brown hair, which was just short of a mop-top, bounced along with the bumps in the street. His concentration couldn’t have been less off focus. His mind was stuck in another land. Finally, he reached a conclusion. You can always tell when he does so. Things such as rubbing his eyes or even faintly smirking hint away his emotions. All traces of interest in performing a vivisection were to be called off. Maxwell’s

THE VIEW FROM... THE AFTERNOON deep love for animals only showed true as he realised that the pug’s life is not something to be messed with. Live and let live. The street he traveled on abruptly ended and a tiny red house came into view. Maxwell jumped off the bicycle and took the pug into his arms. Reaching his doorstep, he decided the Pug and him were like twins. Always wanting something but never being able to get it. Even if his parents had a fit, he resolved to keep the pug. THE VIEW FROM….. THE PUG I don’t know where we’re going…. but it’s probably ace! I’ve been fancying Mr. Rigby more than I thought I would’ve. He’s my mate now. Even without more nosh to fill my stomach, we’ll have a crackin’ time!! --


Dragons in the Schoolyard By Fiona

Alice Jada Brice? Yeah, I remember her. We went to elementary school together, and I met her in first grade. It was an interesting year, but not because of what we learned or any field trips we took. We were all still finding our way among the quaint little world of Meadowsage School, and none more so than she. She sat in the chair one seat across and one seat in front of me. Jada was always one of the first to raise her hand and offer an answer, even if it was just as farfetched as the rest of ours. When I tried to talk to her, though, she seemed to be bent on stretching the limits of the one word answer as far as they could go. She was a nice girl, but as she mainly disregarded the rest of us, I gave up trying to befriend her. It was my first year, and there were others who were more willing to welcome me. I remember because that was the year I tried to hang out with Rhea Kauroway. As I said, it was an interesting year.

Seamus Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing. The school bell sounded with a trill, announcing the end of the day and hauling us all up from the depths of geometry class, where we’d been drowning in x’s and y’s for exactly forty-nine minutes and fiftytwo seconds. Filled with the sweet, fleeting sensation that I could return to those last sun-drenched days of summer (at least until tomorrow), I hurried out of the classroom, stuffed my books haphazardly into my backpack, and jogged blissfully out to the sidewalk. Squinting my eyes as I turned the corner, I approached the little elementary school playground where I spent six years of my life. It always smelled of woodchips, I remember, and I scanned the modest crowd about the familiar, aged swing set with hopeful eyes. She

Dragons in the Schoolyard ought to have been out there by now; the younger kids’ school got out at about the same time as mine and while I’d been stuck in stuffy classrooms for the past week, today was her first day. Sure enough, there she was – my sister, walking along the edge of the sandbox and placing one foot gently in front of the other like a tightrope walker. Alone, yet again. Somehow I knew this would happen. I walked up beside her. “Hi, Jada.” “Hi,” she replied, bright green eyes not even bothering to meet me. “How was your first day of first grade? What did you do?” She stopped for a moment, tangled auburn curls bouncing a little as she almost slipped off the wooden beam. “Well, I met a purple dragon named Otis, I gave part of my sandwich to the cubby fairies, and I went to a tea party with Charlotte the spider,” she summarized, lips puckering slightly and dimples spreading across her cheeks before she added, “and I learned that you should never eat soggy waffles.” I smiled. “Did you make any new friends today?” My sister tucked a strand of hair behind her ear (a habit, I’d noticed) and wobbled her way forward again. “No. Why, was I supposed to?” “Jada, you’re six years old. Don’t you want to make any friends at school?” “Why?” she asked quizzically. “I just sort of ignore all of them, and they don’t mind me. Anyways, I’d rather play with Kelly and Owen. Can we go home now?” As she led me along sidewalk, a few kids I knew from school walked up to us. “Hey,” one said.

Dragons in the Schoolyard “Who are you?” Jada prompted immediately. “Sarah,” the girl smiled good-naturedly. “We’re in your brother’s class.” “Oh.” My sister considered this for a moment. “Well, you seem nice enough,” She eyed a couple of shallow pranksters who were less affable and grumbled, so muffled (I hope) only I could hear, “most of you, at least…” Skipping out in front of us, she launched into a whimsical tale about her adventures with Charlotte and the dragon. Apparently they had had a dispute over cubbyholes. “Your sister is so cute,” my friend whispered to me. I laughed. “I just wish she’d talk like this with the other kids.” Saying goodbye, Jada and I turned down another street, but a few houses down she stopped. “Let’s visit Kelly!” She spun towards her best friend’s lawn as she blithely hummed some Disney tune and twirled her friendship bracelet around a tiny wrist. I can still remember the day we shyly approached that house, just one or two years earlier. Even though Kelly had just moved in, something clicked and she and my sister became inseparable. The same thing happened soon afterwards, with Owen, the little boy a few doors down who went to school with Kelly. That was about it – my sister’s two closest but only friends. “Kelly’s not home from school yet. Neither is Owen. They get out, like, fifteen minutes later than you do, remember?” “Then let’s wait.” “Come on, Jada. Mom’s going to be wondering where we are. You can ask later.” All three feet, two and a half inches of her stiffened crossly as she whined, “Oh, poo you…” I sighed, taking her hand and leading my sulky sister a couple houses down. “Jada, we don’t use language like that.”

Dragons in the Schoolyard “Uh, huh,” she gazed off absentmindedly as she returned to skipping youthfully along the path, soft, freckle-shocked face looking past the rows of green grass patched with pockets of dandelions and scraggly trees. I wondered bittersweetly as she delved back into the tiny, fanciful world of her vast and boundless imagination. Sometimes I wished I could see what she saw, that I could know what she thought. Others I could only sigh and hope that, someday, she just might want to show someone.

Rhea It all started on that second day of school, I think. Maybe before. But that’s when I decided. The first day, I didn’t interact with her much at all, except for when I first came in to the classroom. We had these little square cubbyholes, see, arranged along a shelf near the door. Whoever designed the room must’ve had poor planning skills, because they created a space hidden from the rest of the room. I’d been assigned a bottom cubby again, and as I whined to the others, “I aaalways get a bottom cubby!” (in my just over one year of schooling). Thinking I was too cool to use it, I peered enviously at the upper shelves, even though I was a little on the short side. A boy walked in, a guy named Simon who was definitely not the brightest kid. He started pushing his things into a cube-like space above mine. “Simon,” I stopped him, “they labeled the cubbies wrong. Yours is down there; that’s mine.” It was all the persuasion he needed, and soon I found myself smugly hefting my butterfly-print backpack on my tip-toes.

Dragons in the Schoolyard When I turned to walk back into the main part of the classroom, she was watching me. It was a little creepy, and she looked like she’d seen it all. But I had to retain my cool-kid composure. “What’re you looking at?” I sneered, pushing past her without a second glance. The next day, Jada marched right up to me as soon as she came in. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, he started spewing out words in an irritated rant she almost seemed to have rehearsed. “That was wrong, you know. With the cubbies. It wasn’t yours and you knew it. You should give it back. It wasn’t fair.” “What?” “You stole Simon’s cubby.” I laughed. “No I didn’t. He gave it to me. And besides, what are you gonna do about it?” Her reply was soft, more like a suggestion. “Give it back. Just tell him and give it back.” Of course I just laughed at that. Brushing her off again, it was then that I decided. She was more interesting than the rest. Distant but observant and smart. A peculiar enigma. And she would fight back. I don’t really know what I was doing back then. To me, thinking things like, Oh, hey, there’s that kid who never bothers me…I’ll go steal his cubby, or, I hardly talk to that girl, and I don’t know what her problem is, but let’s go mess with her, was perfectly logical. So I really didn’t see that I causing any harm. At any rate, Jada Brice was off the radar, so forgettable that surely no one would remember in the end.

Dragons in the Schoolyard Simon Jada who? Am I supposed to know who that is?

Alice Rhea had always been the top dog in our unremarkable class. I can’t remember if we ever really liked her or if we simply followed blindly. It was probably the latter. She was confident, assertive, and loud, and we were six. So during those first few days and weeks of school, she seemed to me the one I should try to be friends with. At first I would tag along behind her cautiously, watching her constant squabbles and stifling giggles after particularly nasty remarks. Soon she noticed me and accepted me into her odd little posse full of girls who thought they were extraordinarily cool. I never quite understood it but I kept that fact to myself. At lunch and recess we ran about, laughing and joking, watching Rhea terrorize quiet kids who just wanted to be left alone, and occasionally joining in the fun. In class we were respectful and eager to participate, but as soon as Rhea started whining in obnoxious outbursts suddenly we all despised the school and everything in it. Our fifteen minutes of homework each night was a popular topic for abuse. At naptime we were the monsters in the closet, the ones who stole the others’ cushions when the teacher wasn’t looking. Then Rhea discovered Jada. Thus began the feud that would define the rest of first grade year. A typical day went something like this:

Dragons in the Schoolyard One.

I arrive at school; Jada is already there. We say hello, talk about

neighbors’ puppies or rainbows seen that morning or whatever else crosses our easily distracted minds. All is well; te sun is shining. We could be friends, at this point. Two.

Rhea storms in. She shoves her bag into the stolen cubby

haughtily. All eyes are on her, the supreme queen of grade one. So what does she decide to do next? Stalk Jada into a corner, of course. The go back and forth. Someone has been accused of spilling orange juice and pretzels on the other. We haven’t even had a snack yet. (Except Simon, who is inconspicuously crunching on some pretzel sticks by the door.) Teacher calls us… they storm off. Three.

It’s class time. Jada asks why we use the name Social Studies,

and “what does that even mean, anyway?” Rhea asks, “Who cares?” Four.

We break for lunch. Rhea and the gang dart out to the

playground early, apparently since they’re too cool for “healthy nutrition.” I follow. I always follow. We play on the jungle gym until the other kids join us. Jada’s eyes follow me following the pack of girls following little Maria, a Kindergartener who is determined to teach herself to swing on the swing set. Rhea circles like a lithe panther, ever taunting, and the girl’s eyes begin to tear. Jada jumps in and Rhea pounces, satisfied with the chance at some juicier prey. They brawl it out in the usual way - barely restraining tiny clenched fists with venomous words – as I gently slide over and help little Maria, who is finally left in their wake. I’ve learned it works best this way. Five.

Class again. The two bitter adversaries are paired up to read

together. I guess they never did find out what happened to the hungry, hungry, caterpillar.

Dragons in the Schoolyard Six. The day is over, and Jada scampers outside again before anyone can catch her. Rhea boasts that she’s won, and by the time she decides she’s hungry for more, the brother has come to walk Jada home. Just like an old person to stop us, as usual. Seamus is fifteen and from the big kid school. In later years we’ll mutter about the age difference, but for now we don’t care because he may as well be twenty five and there’s no telling what big kids will do sometimes. So we leave, slightly disappointed, and come back to school sleepy the next morning. Which brings us back to step one.

Seamus Have you ever wondered if there are alternate universes out there? Or planets with life going on about them totally separate from ours? I know it sounds stupid, but that’s what it felt like sometimes. It was like I crossed between two little worlds every day, and though much of what went on in both was none of my business, I couldn’t stay out of either one. First there was the world of my school, my friends, my life. There was nothing new there, really. Except, well… Hillary and Jess weren’t speaking to each other, Jake had decided to forgo any homework assignments, Anna and Richie had been “talking” alone for a suspiciously long time, and the general consensus was that Gerry probably wasn’t leaving class to simply use the bathroom. Also, Kerry felt the need to inform me that over half of her “most favorite TV stars of, like – OMG – ever?!” were involved in questionabe activities or a scandal of some kind. (“Can you believe it?” Yes, yes I can.) I didn’t care about any of that. Sure, some of it was interesting and made for decent gossip, but I wasn’t the type to leak rumors and I didn’t need to know. I didn’t need to know all the reasons for why I should pick whoever’s side in an argument, who was up whose dress last night, or that

Dragons in the Schoolyard it’s illegal to have an ice cream cone in your back pocket and feed alcohol to a moose. (We had odd conversations.) So life continued as usual, and my class continued to be their… “normal” selves. Then I’d leave, stop by Jada’s school, and pick her up. Now I was in an entirely different world. If I didn’t say much, she’d completely ignore me. If I asked about her day, she’d embark on storytelling adventures that for the most part made no sense. They usually involved that purple dragon. Twice she told me that he liked butterfly print bags, as if that was significant. Even if I had friends over, the two realms of my adolescent existence refused to mix. Like oil and water, they would remain separate as Jada retreated to another room or asked if she could go to Kelly or Owen’s house. They were still the only ones she ever spent time with outside of school, and it worried me. Every morning she’d wake up, eat breakfast (she liked Frosted Flakes), and get ready for school, and every morning I’d turn and watch her go as I walked past, emerging back into my own life, where I told myself I belonged. It’s strange how we remember the little things. Like how I remember that it was snowing on that day, the first snow of the year. It was late, I think, well into December, and usually we’d had at least one or two showers before then. I was in a pleasant mood as I watched my footsteps press a path into the frosty carpet as I hummed some Beatles tune absentmindedly. Out came Jada, storming her way out through the softly swirling snow. Her face was bright tomato red from cold and rage. Looking down, I’m not sure what I noticed exactly, a scrape or mark of some kind, maybe, but I asked what happened in concern.

Dragons in the Schoolyard Her response was a jumble of unintelligible spitfire rambling. I struggled to make any sense out of it but barely caught a word. After she finally calmed down and we were nearing home, I heard Jada mutter, “I wish I knew what that dragon wanted from me!” Only then did I notice the pattern. “Who is the dragon, Jada?” The one she’d been complaining about all along. She stopped in her tracks. A smile crept timidly across her rosy lips. “So you have been listening to me.” I waited for her to continue, but she never answered my question. She’s probably forgotten the answer by now, and even if I remembered every detail of that afternoon, I still wouldn’t know today. All I got was: “She pushed me. She pushed me into the snow and I fell.” No one ever gives me straight answers.

Rhea It could have been days later, or the next week, or the very following morning. It was like any other day, as far as I know. It was so average yet full of surprises and spectacular but wicked and… I’m sorry, I don’t do fancy descriptions. Save that for some other kid. Pretty much, we were bickering on the playground again, Jada and I, and nothing seemed different until suddenly a voice came out of no where and shrieked, “Oh, will you two just SHUT UP?!” Everyone’s chatting was smothered by silence because we all still believed that phrase was a swear.

Dragons in the Schoolyard I looked around, shocked and bewildered that someone had dared to interrupt us. No one could figure out who the voice had come from until seconds later when it exploded again. And it came out of Alice. “What is your problem?” she screamed at me. Passive Alice, who followed me around the schoolyard. “You meanie…All you do is make fun of people and push them around! And you,” she sneered at Jada, “you just sit there and watch until it’s your turn or you can swoop in and save the day. Why so selfish?” I couldn’t believe it - all this from Alice, who taught kids to swing while we plowed our way from argument to argument. She shoved Jada in the chest, causing her to stumble backward in a similar haze as mine. “I wanted to be your friend, you know, but all you want is to fight! Ughhh! You’re all so stuuuupid!” As she moved in again, it looked like Alice was going to slap her. Somehow, in the midst of all this chaos, I managed to find my voice. Somehow, I think I was the one who surprised us most. “Alice,” I said, and she whirled towards me. “Alice, don’t be mad at Jada. It’s not her fault; it’s mine.” I sighed. Jada’s piercing eyes grew evermore confused. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone after you. I shouldn’t have gone after anyone. Can we… still be friends?” Alice looked dumbfounded but was smiling, so I took that as a yes. Jada watched me with a conflicted look part perplexity, part realization, and part denial (but mostly perplexity). Ooh, I thought awkwardly, that’s gonna be a no, but instead she smiled a little, too, and said yes.

Dragons in the Schoolyard Jada Yes, first grade was an interesting year for all of us. Personally, I went from being perfectly happy in my own world to utterly frustrated to not sure at all. Still, “all’s well that ends well” – right? – and I was better off in the end. The next day as I went to put away my backpack, I noticed Rhea tucking hers into a bottom cubby. “Why are you using that one?” I asked. “Isn’t yours up there?” “That’s Simon’s.” she replied tactfully. “I gave it back.” Gradually, I got to know the other kids in my class. Alice was forgiving and curious and we became close friends pretty quickly. Rhea, on the other hand, was a little rough-edged, but she was surprisingly nice if you gave her a chance. It was much easier after that day on the playground, because she really tried to be more compassionate. I think Alice all taught us a thing or two, even if she didn’t mean to. So first grade came and went like all the other years. I introduced my new friends to my old ones, who had barely heard about them beforehand. Kelly and Alice hit it off right away and the three of us remain really close to this day. Strangely enough, Owen, who was generally a “girls have cooties (except you and Kelly, of course)!” kind of guy, immediately decided that Rhea was “hot stuff” and has upheld that idea for the past nine years, although thankfully he’s quieter about it now. I never thought I’d let any of this happen, or that any good could come out of it. It’s strange… Friendships come in unexpected ways. I guess that’s just life.


Sonnets Creative Writing class We grew up six years apart I the youngest of us two With you as my sister was a great way to start Whenever I was down and blue You would spend your day playing with me Mostly what I wanted to do With you around happy was all I could be When you grew older things were new It was harder to relate at that age When you were sixteen and I was ten Then you grew out of that stage And I grew in, but then I left it and now closer we’ve been You are now a great mother and an excellent wife My darling sister, have a good life.

I heard this love story is not yet complete Three years have passed and who are you now The waiting is turning into torture and yet sweet But I manage to survive without you somehow If there is still a road laying ahead Would you seize the chance with no regret? If I remember every word you’ve said Shall the promise be kept and kiss under sunset? And yet every love story comes to an end What is the distance between your heart and mine? The destiny is set and I should not pretend There is no need to fool around my mind I shall not be your lover but your friend Thus I can be with you till the end. -Elena Chen

-Claire McGurk

CURRENT issue one

Sonnets Creative Writing class The burned men sat in graves Their voices heard no more No song could be saved Not after the long war Their faces long gone away Gone beyond? recognition No flute would they play Bones and ambition Yet Light creeps in tomb They have not given in They, reborn from the womb Reconcile their sin On the perfect moon They will find their tune Paul Presbry

The white snow flutters through the air Waiting for that thud from the ground below Most of the flakes fear they might tear However, they still align on the ground with a certain flow The new blanket of white, spread across the earth The trees even begin to be frosted It was like the sky gave birth Like the clouds themselves were exhausted T h e w i n d b l e w f r o m a l l directions Forcing the snow to land hard after being thrown around Through all this mayhem, there s e e m e d t o s t i l l b e a connection Like the snow already knew where it was bound After the storm has ended It made for a sight that was in fact very splendid -Robbie Wetzel

CURRENT issue one

Sonnets Creative Writing class Storm Sonnet, 2/7/2013, Mary Bellamy The bread and milk are flying off the shelves A run on candy, mac and cheese, and beer The Stop and Shop is open late till twelve It’s gonna be a wicked storm, we hear Electric crews will be prepared for snow We’d better not lose power or the heat A thousand airport flights will never go Amounts may reach a foot or maybe feet I think we should attend the play tonight No basketball with Sacred Heart on tap No practice test for juniors if I’m right The news shows blizzard warnings on the map The answer to the question we all posed? The head of school just said our school is closed.

Creative Writing class


Sand billows around Dusty in the windy plain Ships lost on the sea -Cam White Rain patters the door Strangers seeking some shelter Begging to get in. -Claire McGurk Sand billows around Dusty in the windy plain Ships lost on the sea -Cam White Rain patters the door Strangers seeking some shelter Begging to get in Going to college As high tide returns to the shore And leaves yet again

This pink petal rain Fall with tenderness and scent Its death its beauty -Elena Chen

Creative Writing class


This pink petal rain Fall with tenderness and scent Its death its beauty -Elena Chen God punished the world Fire fell all over the sky Burned clouds to the ashes Ocean kisses his coast Clouds sit together closely Lighthouse waits her ship Sunlight lights the smoke Bass still hanged on my shoulder It is happy life

-Seven Liu The ocean so large Wind breezing, the ocean calm Endless horizons Waves crash on the shore Seagulls pecking at red crabs Waves wash the remains Those loving blue eyes Her features beyond normal She is beautiful -Jonah Morris

Creative Writing class


Running Through Black Night Falling into Deep Abyss Quickly, Now I wake Shining Bright and Loud Beauty and Simplicity Head Hurts, Need Advil Heat, Fire, Ash Spouts Rage Like a Flowing River, Calm Volcano Explodes

In dead of winter All quiet cold and doubtful The sun comes, no change

-Raheel Chaudhry and Tom Neil

-Robbie Wetzel

Creative Writing class Ubi Sunt poems These are examples of “ubi sunt” poetry, which was often written by the AngloSaxons, and which is a lament for something lost. It often uses the phrases “Alas,” “where is/where are…?” or “Who will…?”

Where now is the innocence of childhood? Lost in a moment of twisting steel and crunching plastic. Alas, the world is no longer the safe Where has my childhood gone? place it once was. How did it pass so quickly? Where have the safe car rides gone? For that stage of life is gone. They disappeared in that same second. Alas the world is now one of booby Will I ever be as close to my brother as I traps. once was? One wrong step leads to pain and Will I ever see him? suffering. For he now lives in Virginia. Who will have those feelings still? How did time pass so quickly? Now it’s my turn to help my nephew enjoy Where is the one who used to kiss you with tenderness? his childhood. Where is the one who used to hug you -Claire McGurk with firmness? Alas, nothing is left to trace the existence of the past love If you are the only thing you have in this world How could you claim to lose something that never belonged to you? -Cam White

Creative Writing class Ubi Sunt poems Where is the one who went through the darkness with you? Where is the one who used to be with you at all times? Alas, you are here alone as always as forever But you shall feel no more loneliness or sorrow For your pain is no longer your pain And your happiness is not only your happiness. -Elena Chen

-Elena Chen

Where did my laundry go? It used to be folded and put away.

Where is my lunch? It hasn’t been packed.

Where are my shoes? I swear I put them



Where is my jersey? I asked my parents to wash it for me.

If you want things done, do them yourself. Growing up is part of life.

-Nick Foreman

Creative Writing class Ubi Sunt poems Where had she gone? She tried to escape, like Eurydice before her Alas, the gaze of death turned towards her He caught her in his sight She was embraced by death She was his prisoner Lost forever to the light of life Where had she gone? Where was she now? Alas, in the bowels of hell she resided How was he to save her? Death barred the door, guarded by Hell’s Guardians But it was no match for him He would face death, head on, as he had for all his life He would embrace death, He would conquer hell He would save her! And so he marched. -Raheel Chaudhry

Creative Writing class Ubi Sunt poems

Where did those days go? Those warm summer days on the water together Just you, me and the rocking of the waves. Where did those early morning breakfasts go? Alas not a person moves in the house before 9 am Who will take your place? Some one once asked No one Where did those golf matches go? Who will ever teach me half what you have? I know you have the answers, so I am here, waiting to receive them I miss you Grampy, forever, and always. -Robbie Wetzel

Creative Writing class Ubi Sunt poems Where have the birds gone? In the age of my childhood, their brilliant feathers filled the skies Alas, clouds of soot and sand streak unbothered Where have the whales gone? In the age of my childhood, their brilliant tails filled the oceans Alas, waves of black and bones foam unbothered Where have the people gone? In the age of my childhood, their brilliant lights filled the earth Alas, shadows of hate and holes tick unbothered. -Zach Parrella

Where is the meaning in life, as good people die every day? Where are the good people, as the bad ones get more attention? Where are the bad ones, as the police are always looking for them? Where are the police, as my friend Joe gets shot in the middle of NYC? Where is my friend Joe, as the after life might keep him hostage? Where is the after life, if you don’t believe in God? Where is God, when my friend Joe needed it? It is true. Only the good die young. R.I.P. Joe -Zack Heussler

Creative Writing class Ubi Sunt poems Where now the time of our summer? Where are the wreathes made by willow branches That we cut in Mr. Wu’s backyard. Where are the tuck nets and buckets The appalling evils that the fish afraid every times we went to the river. Where are sun hats and cages Which are the splendid jails for the insect singers. Where are the running, laughing, cursing, sitting in a bench and eating ice creams? Where are the sweats we left on the basketball court? Alas, the annual ring of the willow is clear and distinct. Alas, the buckets are filled by dust instead of fish. Don’t know when the tuck nets had a hole. Alas, the crickets are singing a missing song alone. Alas, the bench is corroded into an art work Alas, the basket ball is not a sphere anymore. It is not warm anymore while the wind blows on my face. Summer time has gone. Who shall I meet and play with after I come back home? -Seven Liu

Creative Writing class We spent some time on Anglo-Saxon poetry, as it is one of my favorite styles. In addition to the “ubi sunt” theme, old English poetry also often used alliteration and metaphorical devices called “kennings” for familiar objects. -Mrs. Bellamy My motored chariot skimmed me over Neptune’s domain, Surfing surely over his smooth swells. I now sit with my snagging stick in hand, Waiting patiently for one of his winged beasts To take a bite of my offering. The gull’s field has no sign of billowy beings; Just the great spotlight in the sky. The white watchers circle, Hoping to peruse the leftovers of my poor prey. Aha! A tug! One from the depths decided to dabble. A furious fighter, this one is. He tugs the tow-rope taut Snapping and splashing, loud and leaping. However he is no match For the stores of my strength He is pulled from his home, The immense aquamarine aquarium, Into my strong visegrips. A sparkle of admiration Lights the windows to my soul. I release him back, I could not bear to rob the reaching depths Of such a remarkable creature. -Cam White



A u n i q u e monster movie by Jason Fachada and Alex Monto (drama club)

Clicking on the hyperlinks takes you to the Vimeo video website. Please note that you will need to make some movies smaller for better resolution. 41361021 Cape Cod Academy STUDENT MADE

ALICE Come have tea and cakes with the characters in Alice in Wonderland in this delightfully wacky video made by tenth grade English class. (CURRENT video collection) 66962370

STUDENT CINEMA The Making of the 39 Clues <iframe src="" width="500" height="375" frameborder="0" webkitAllowFullScreen mozallowfullscreen allowFullScreen></iframe> <p><a href="http://">39clues2.dv</a> from <a href="">CURRENT VIDEOS</a> on <a href="">Vimeo</ a>.</p>

Click the extensive link to the left to view... The Making of the 39 CLUES ! Recommended: Watch THE MAKING OF first to appreciate Jordanâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s and Alexâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s efforts!

The 39 Clues

https:// 66835726

Jordan Gustafson & Alex Monto, who both have a future interest in film, through Cape Cod Academy's Community Service Organization have taught the second grade about film making basics. The overall goal, over the course of the program, was to create a small film based off a book. The grade chose the book The 39 Clues and the students acted and filmed in the short film. The end result was the beginning to a series in which the students wish to continue. Alex and Jordan helped the students learn how to direct and use a camera as well as act. The end result is the hopeful beginning to a future in film for the students.


STUDENT CINEMA user18316171/videos interview

with Rebecca Nikolas about HAITI

Cap Contest! Winning caption gets a Cape Cod Academy cap ! Submit your captions with the picture numbers to Truman Rountree â&#x20AC;&#x2122;16.

#1 #2 #2



Caption Contest! Winning caption gets a Cape Cod Academy baseball cap ! Submit your captions with the picture numbers to Truman Rountree.



Spongebob by Carter Pemberton and Patrick Star by Ruby Kau

CURRENT issue one

June 2013

Ruby Kau

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Cape Cod Academy's news created by the Class of 2016.

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