Prose Prose
Contents: Contents: The Stalker The Stalker
Hollowphobia Street Hollowphobia Street
Family Only Family Only
Personal Essay Personal Essay
Life In The Trenches Life In The Trenches
Weaving Weaving
Whose Roots? Whose Roots? Where I Found My Values Where I Found My Values
Gordon Humber
Inthewinter,ourtowngetsahandfulofsnowstorms,sowetendtogetadecentamountofsnowduringthis partoftheyear.Twoweeksago,atthebeginningofFebruary,thenewsannouncedthatthegroundhogsawhis shadow.Manytowns,includingtheonethatmywifeandIlivein,weremakingtheirwaythroughthelastsix weeksofwinter.Duringthefirsttwoweeks,thedayswentbyslowly.MywifeandIthoughtthesnowwasvery pretty,especiallywhenitstickstothetrees.Mydog,Harvey,alwayslovestoplayinthesnow.Everyafternoon, mywifeandIwouldtakeourdailywalktogether.WewouldalwaysbringHarveywithusbecauseheneeded hisdailyexerciseaswell.Harveywouldalwaysjumparoundinthesnowandsometimeseatit.Mywife, Harvey,andIgotheusualroute,whichistowalkaroundourneighborhoodandtakethepaththatleadsright intotown,occasionallypassingbyotherpeoplesometimeswiththeirdogstoo.Duringhispottybreaks,Harvey lovestoplayinthesnowinourbackyardwhichhasaswingsetandcabin.Healsolikestosniffaroundinthe woodsthatarebehindourproperty.
Asweweremakingourwayintothethirdweek,therewasoneSaturdayafternoonwhenIletHarveyoutinto ourbackyardsohecouldplayaroundinitanddohisbusiness.Thiswasacoupledaysafterthefifthsnowstorm ofthewinterwentby.Mywifewasoutshoppingforthatnight’sdinner.Iwasusingmycomputertorespondto someemailsonmylivingroomcouchwhenIdecidedthatitwastimeforHarveytocomebackinside.Iwentto thebackdoorofourhousewherethebackporchisandopenedthedoor.AftercallingHarvey’snamethree times,Iwentbackintothehousetoputonmywintercoatandsnowboots.Ithenwalkedbackoutside.Ikept callingHarvey’snameafewtimesasIwasfollowinghispawprints.Iwalkedaroundtheswingsetandcabin, thenItookafewstepsintothewoods.Inoticedsomerandomfootprintsthatalsoledintothetrees,butitdidn’t botherme.Ijustletitgo.Thebackwoodsareabouttwentyyardslongwithaninvisiblefencenearthebusy street.Itgoesallthewayontheothersidebeyondthetreesofourproperty.Iwasstartingtofeelalittleworried. Thewoodshavealotoftrees,bushes,andtheinvisiblefencinglinesensorshavebeenbroken.I’vebeen meaningtofixthem.IwasabouttenfeetintothetreeswhenHarveyfinallycameoutofoneofthebushes.I wasrelievedtoseehimasweheadedbackinsidethehousefortherestoftheday.Harveyknowsnottogo beyondourpropertytothepointwherehecanescape.ButlittledidIknowthatsomestrangerwashidden behindthoseverybushesthatHarveyhadbeeninandthatafterthesunwentdown,thatstrangerwouldbeona missiontostalkmydogandI.
AfewminutesafterItookmydoginside,mywifecamebackhome.Weunloadedthegroceriesandtook Harveyonhissecondwalkoftheday.Bythetimewecamebackhome,weallatedinner.MywifeandIhad somesalad,andmydog,eatingrightnexttous,wasenjoyinghisfoodasusual.Weendedthedaywatchinga movie,andwenttobedatteno'clock.Thisiswhenthingsgetalittlemoreweirdandspooky...Lateratnight, around12o'clock,Iwokeuptoaloudbangnexttomybedsidewindow.Fullofcuriosity,Islowlygotoutof bed,liftedupthecurtain,andsawtherewasasnowballthatwassplatteredontheothersideoftheglass.I lookedoutthewindowtoseewhowasoutthere.Whatmademefeelevenmoreweirdwasrightatthatmoment, IrememberedthefootprintsIhadseenasIwaslookingforHarveyhoursbefore.Ishouldhavepaidmore attentiontothem.Aftersometime,Idecidedthatitwasjustsomeannoyingteenagerdoingsomestupidprank.I putthecurtaindown,andwhenIgotintobed,mywifeaskedmeifIwasok.
I told her that someone had thrown a snowball at our window. We both forgot about it very quickly. After about twenty minutes, my wife and I were half asleep.
But then my dog started barking like crazy, as if something was about to go horribly wrong. It was so loud and disruptive to me that I couldn’t help but jump out of my bed, and walk over to to tell him him to stop. Then I remembered the snowball that was thrown at our window. It was pitch black in the room. There was another bang at the window My heart was starting to beat fast now, and the curtain that blocked the window looked as if it was staring straight at me, as if someone was waiting behind it ready to jump at me. As brave as I could be, I walked over to it, shot the curtain straight up, and looked out the window. My stomach dropped. There was a man covered in all black in the middle of our backyard. It must be the one who threw the snowballs and who my dog smelled hours ago This made me think – no wonder Harvey wouldn’t come to me. I was so annoyed with all this fuss. I told my wife a man was out in our yard and that I would go scare him off. So I opened the bedroom door, and ran down the hallway and the stairs to the room where the back door was. Then I paused. It was almost pitch black in the house. I was out of breath I felt cold I felt dizzy My heart beating so fast and my hands were sweating I thought of what to do next, so I grabbed the nearest flashlight I could find and a pair of scissors in case the man was dangerous. I threw on my coat and boots and I looked out the back window. I could see bushes moving at the edge of our woods I was so angry, so ready to chase and scare him off, that I threw open the back door, and ran into the woods, saying, “Get off my property! Before my friends come out and catch you!”
I didn’t actually have friends who were strong and could tackle him. Well, I did, but they were fast asleep in their own homes What I said was just a way to look bigger than the guy I was chasing. The trees and bushes were covered in snow, as white as paper. I went from bush to bush and tree to tree with my bright flashlight on. I walked and looked left, right, forwards, and backwards. It was pitch black and I was freezing. My heart was racing and all I could see were the bushes and trees looking down at me in the dark Then, about twenty feet away from me, I saw the man running through the trees I followed his direction while screaming, “Get off my property!” For about another minute, I kept chasing his figure through the movement of the trees. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw blue and white lights flashing everywhere like bright lights at a concert, lighting up the whole neighborhood I decided that my wife must have called the cops. I ran out of the woods and told them where I had been. Four police officers with a dog all went running across my yard into the woods. The dog disappeared in the trees within seconds.
Two more officers came to me to keep me safe, give me comfort, and asked me to explain the situation, which I did. A few minutes later, the dog, the four officers, and the man who threw the snowballs at my window came out of the trees. I asked the man what his problem was, why he was throwing snowballs at my window and hiding in the trees for who knows how long. I told him to explain himself. His black hoodie fell to his shoulders and revealed his face He was in his late teens, very dull looking and he looked like he just woke up from sleep walking. He explained that he was trying to get revenge on some friend of his but ended up at the wrong house. As he, all six police officers, and the police dog, were heading back to the police cars, I made my way back to the front of my house I opened the front door, threw off my coat
and boots, and put the flashlight and scissors back in their places. Before I headed up to bed, my wife said that she called the cops, asked me what happened, and comforted me. Then we headed upstairs to bed. I changed my clothes, patted Harvey telling him everything was ok, put the window curtains down, and collapsed into bed in relief that everything was over and I was now in my bed, exhausted As the man was hopefully about to be thrown in jail, my wife and I lay under the covers until we were both sound asleep.
H e z z y B e n s o n
Bella Keelin
I step out of the car and all I can see is the place I hate the most. But it’s the only job I can afford. A night shift and my crackhead boss. My God, am I the only one who is respectable to everyone? Am I the most overwhelmed person here?
I sigh and grab the guts to go inside As I step inside, I see a note from my boss I take the note off the slightly dirty counter next to the rusty cash register, almost gagging. It says, Make sure you clean the bathroom and don't be sloppy.
I roll my eyes and crumple it in the trash.
I walk in the bathroom and what I see is absolutely horrifying: black mold on the wall and ceiling, a dead rat on the floor, and crap on all of the toilets It smells like bleach. The only thing I cleaned was the stuff I could. I mean not even a professional could clean whatever mess I just saw. When I am back at the counter I hear a beeping noise coming from the door. It's a customer. He looks at me and says, “Grab me a pack of cigarettes.”
I look at him for a moment Greyish blue overalls; black grease on his elbows and knees And as I grab the pack of cigarettes, he looks impatient tapping his finger on the counter I look back This time I see he has dirt under nails but a new guy walks in looking dirtier than the guy in overalls. The guy who walked in demanded that guy in overalls move and overalls now yelled, “Hey! I was here first!” Then they started arguing and pushing and punching and then fighting outside. As I look through the dark window, I find myself hiding.
I see both guys covered in blood I can’t believe they are still standing and then another strange guy walks in, panting. He looks at me weirdly, with scratches on his face, and dirty black clothes that cover mostly everything. His hands are in his pocket when he asks me, “Get me anything.” I grab gum and he reaches for his pocket. He couldn't find anything. He says, “Can you give me a discount?"
I say, “Sorry, but no ” He then walks out of the store uneasily I get a dark feeling from this guy Which after all that I have seen in this place says something. At this point, I am a little taken aback from the fight but the feeling in my gut from the guy that walked in after – that I couldn’t shake off. The pit in my stomach dropped deeper and deeper so that I almost felt hollow – empty and yet filled with a raw and intense fear… Before I could take a breath, I heard the door open. I was almost startled. The man asks, “Are you okay?” I look at him: sweatshirt, skinny jeans, belt, shoes and socks, and messy hair. He asks again, “Are you okay?”
I look at him and say, “Yes, I am okay.” But I'm not okay. He smiles at me and walks in the back. He grabs soda and chips. I say, “This is the only time someone has not grabbed cigarettes.” He laughs and gives me money. He says, “Have a good night.” After that I feel unsafe because even though the nicest person this evening has treated me with respect, still anyone can come in and treat me with none.
I am frozen for a long minute when I hear glass shatter from the front door. All of a sudden I look up with caution and see a dark, overwhelming figure in the shattered door frame. I am unable to speak, move, or flee at this moment. I want to scream but have lost my words. I look right and then left in hopes that I can find a place to duck and hide I see the back door and want to sprint with all of my might Why am I working in this godforsaken place? It is insanity at this pay grade to continue to work in fear as these suspicious characters to haunt this place.
I heard a sudden roar from the dark tall figure. I can’t understand what he’s saying. My ears are still ringing from the crashing glass that shattered in a million small pieces. I creep up to see if he’s approaching me but remain shielded by the counter in front of me.
He is tall, dark, and all dressed in black. His face is now covered with a full mask. He has a machete in his right hand and a sledge hammer in the left. He is yelling but I can’t distinguish the words he is projecting. He throws the sledge hammer at me but I duck down just in time. And then I sprint for the back door without looking back I find myself outside As I am running and I feel a sharp stab in my foot I fall but I manage to get back up. I am limping but now my other leg gets hit.
I fall Now crawling, I’m screaming at the top of my lungs I'm thinking about everything all at once I shut my eyes tight and just accept my fate. The man in black lifts his weapon in the air. I close my eyes tight. I hear a big bang and then a thud.
My ears are ringing My head is throbbing. I look forward and see a silhouette It's the nice guy I spoke to earlier. He is aiming a gun, and smoke is coming from the barrel. I am still disoriented, but I see that he shot the man that was about to kill me. I struggle to focus. My eyes are blurring in and out. He holsters his weapon, pulls out a cell phone, and begins yelling.
“This is officer Ryan! Shots fired! Shots fired! There is a suspect and a victim. I need backup and an ambulance at Hollowpohbia St. The suspect appears to be deceased. The victim is conscious and bleeding. I will give aid ”
He hangs up his phone and runs at me, pulling his belt off of his pants. He wraps my leg with his belt and pulls it tight. The pain was too much. He bends down and pulls my right arm over his shoulders, lifting me off of the ground He moves me to a car and sits me down. He checks to see where my other wounds were I feel like passing out, and I do just that.
The next time I open my eyes, I am in a brightly lit room, with machines beeping, loud noises, and people quickly giving instructions It is overwhelming I drift in and out of consciousness, seemingly forever Then, suddenly, everything goes dark. No noise. No more pain. When I wake up. I’m in a white, well lit room. This time the light doesn't hurt my eyes. There are faint beeping sounds but they don’t hurt my ears. I feel calm I feel safe Three people enter the room, one at a time, but quickly They are my family
My wife kisses me on the forehead, crying. My kids seem afraid to come close, as I am hooked up to so many machines. I motion with my finger for my kids to come closer. I tell them in a weak, and raspy voice, “It's ok.”
They come to me and they share holding my hand. I went from accepting my fate, to having another chance at life. I will never forget how close I came to death on Hollowphobia Street.
Maeve Kerins
Sittingtherecurledupwithmytoescrossedonthecouchonmyporch,IhadtearsinmyeyesasIlookedatmy momandasked,“Butwhy?Allofmyotherfriendsareallowedtohavesleepovers.Whycan’tI?”
WhenIwasyounger,mymomalwayssaid,“Onlysleepoverswithfamily.Theycanstayhere,butyoucan’t staythere.”SowhenIgotinvitedtomyfirstbirthdaysleepoverinthirdgrade,Iwasbeyondexcited.Thesegirls werethe“cool”onesofthegrade–theoneswhosatatthepeanut-freetableeveryonewantedtojoin.Allof theirmomswerefriends,andtheyevenwatched Big Brother,whichwasdefinitelynotallowedinmyhouse. Still,IpretendedIknewwhattheyweretalkingaboutbecauseIwantedtofitin—andmorethananything,I wantedtogo.
Whenmyfriendstoldmeaboutthesleepover, everyonestartedsaying,“Icango!Mymomdoesn’tmind,”and “Ohyeah,letmeask,butit’sprobablyayes.”Meanwhile,IknewI’dhavetodoalotofconvincingtogetmy momtoletmego.
“Mom,shelivessuperclose...”“Youhavehermom’snumber...”“Icancallyouonmyfriend’sphone...”“We couldmakeacodename,‘Howisthefish?’sowhenyouhearthat,youknowtopickmeup...”
Mymomwasalwaysbigonsayingthingslike,“Well,letmethinkaboutit,”or“YourdadandIneedtotalk aboutit.”Ihatedhearingthosewords.Whycouldn’tshesayyes?Itwasanall-girlssleepover.Whatwasthe worstthatcouldhappen?
ButIgetitnow.Mymomusedtobeadetective,andmostofhercasesinvolvedtheabuseofchildren,partners, orsexualassaultvictims.SoIunderstandwhyshewassoprotectiveandcautiousaboutmysiblingsandme havingsleepoversatotherpeople’shouses.Becauseshehasnoideawholivesthereorwhattheyaredoing. Still,I’dalwaysjoke,“Whycouldn’tyouhavejustbeenamathteacherorsomething?”
Shewasadetectiveforaroundfifteenyearsbeforesheretiredwhenmybrotherwasdiagnosedwithautismand mylittlesisterwasborn.WheneverItellpeoplemymomwasadetective,theyalwayssay,“Wow,that’sso cool!”Andyeah,it’scool—butitalsomeansIcan’tdoanythingwithoutherknowing.
Itfeltlikehoursofconvincing,crying,andbegging.“Idon’tknowwhoislivingthere.”“Whatiftheyhave friendstherethatIdon'tknow?”“Idon'twantyounottocallmewhenyoufeeluncomfortablewithanything.” “Iwill,Mom,Ipromise.”
Wesatthereinsilencewhenmymomfinallysighedandsaid,“Alright,I’llletyoudothisjustonce.Butdon’t thinkthismeansyoucanalwayshavesleepoverswithfriends.Thisisaveryrareoccasion.”“Ohmygosh— thankyou,thankyouuuuu!” Isquealed,jumpingupanddown.Myheartskippedabeat;Icouldn’tbelieveshe actuallysaidyes.
Thenextday,mymomandIwentouttobuyabirthdaygiftandanewpajamasetformetoweartotheparty. Evennow,though,IhavetoworktoconvinceherwheneverIwanttodosomething.Myfavoritethingtosayto hernowis,"I’meighteenyearsoldandgoingtocollegenextyear.”Shehatesthatresponse.
“So I just have to stop caring about you and let you do whatever you want now since you’re eighteen?” I think shehasdefinitely changedandiswaymorelaidbacknow IknowthatthingsaregoingtohappenbutIfeellike now, the older I get the more confident she is feeling about me making decisions for myself and being able to trustmygutfeeling.
IwantedtospendmyHalloweeninNewYork.Oh,mymomdidnotlovethatidea.Severalendlessnightsofme on the phone. “So have you thought of me going to New York?” “Maeve, I am not a huge fan of the idea.” “C'mon,Mom,pleasejustthinkaboutitsomemore.”
I understand why my mom had the “family only” rule. She wasn’t trying to be mean or stop me from having fun, she just wanted to keep me safe. Back then, I didn’t understand, but now I see she was only trying to protectme.EventhoughIdidn’tlikeitatthetime,andstilldon’t,I’mthankfulforhowmuchshecares.
EmmaAgeeBorsuk
Most kids grow up calling out for “Mom”when they scrape their knee or need advice. Me? I had two dads, two strong voices, but not a single “Mom”to call out for Growing up, I was always bullied for two dads but I never understood why Maybe it was because we were so young or maybe it was because we didn't understand what it meant to be gay. At such a young age I was always told that having two dads was “weird”or “awful.”We were all so young, we never understood life.
The years went by and one day, my Dads, my brother, and I were walking to the train station when all of a sudden we were told we were going to Slomo which was a very popular slime store at the time While going under the turnstiles, my dads stopped us and said, “We have something to tell you which we think you are going to be excited about.”My brother and I stood there looking confused because we were already so happy we were going to Slomo that nothing else mattered. My dad Jason looked at us and said, “We are going to Texas and Louisiana for February break.”Daniel, my brother, got mad and said, “Are you serious? I'm so excited!”But I wasn't excited because I didn't wanna meet her at such a young age. I didn't fully understand adoption and how it worked The plan was that we were going to take a plane to Houston, Texas and stay there for three nights, and then take another plane to New Orleans, Louisiana and stay there for four nights before heading home.
The plane ride was about four hours to Houston, Texas. The plane ride was very smooth but I remember waking up and the plane just shaking. We hit such a huge storm on the way to Texas that we had to make an emergency landing at some random place in Texas We waited about eight hours to get on the next flight While waiting, they kept delaying our flight After about seven hours we started to board the plane Someone had a medical emergency and the EMTs and police showed up, which delayed our flight by a while longer. While we were waiting in our seats, we got upgraded to first class which was nice and we were able to stretch out because we were all so tired from waiting for hours because of the medical emergency and delays from the storm. After a while, we took off and the rest of the flight was very smooth and next thing you know we landed
After a long car ride we finally arrived at the hotel and we all went to sleep because of how exhausted we were. We woke up the next morning to the alarm blasting, telling us it's time to wake up and to get ready to go meet my birth mom. I remember that whole morning. I was freaking out. I was nervous if we were alike and if she would like me or not. Once everyone got ready, we headed to the car and we had a two hour drive ahead of us An hour into the drive, Tish (my birth mom) calls to say she's about thirty minutes away and she will get us a table and that my half sister Maya is with her. Hearing this news made me even more nervous. I was already nervous to meet my birth mom and now I have to meet my half sister? While pulling into the parking lot, my stomach turned upside down because of how scared I was. We all walked in and I saw Tish. She looked nothing like me and she was very shy. My half sister Maya was a very energetic person who gave me a huge hug and treated me just like a sister It's like I knew her for years
We all sat down at a diner and talked about how I did gymnastics and how Maya got into the University
of Miami and how excited she was to go off to college and to be in a warmer place instead of the cold. Once we got our food, we were all excited to eat. It's like we hadn’t seen food in years. All of us were starving and so excited to eat. I remember my sister and I got the same thing as each other. After finishing our food, it was time to say goodbye
We finished our food and we all gave each other hugs. I remember Tish brought out this beautiful handbag and told me to open it. Once I opened it I saw a bunch of nice jewelry and some makeup. When she gave me a hug, she also handed me a small white box and gave me this beautiful necklace that I still wear to this day. She gave this to me because once she found out she was pregnant with me it had a small little bow on it It was hard to say goodbye It was a very emotional time for all of us There were a lot of tears shed
On the car ride home, I was very grateful that I got to meet her and I realized how much she went through while she was pregnant with me and why she couldn't take care of me. I was honestly very happy I got to meet my birth mom even though I was nervous and scared we were alike but I realized how much of an amazing person she is
Ben
Thurston
Germany May 13th, 1916
It's May 13th, 1916, 1:00 PM, and I woke up to my friend shaking me I asked, “What was going on?” He replied, “We are about to storm the British trenches at 2:00 PM!” When I heard that news, my soul was about to leave my body. I knew even just sticking your head over the trench was a sure death sentence. But orders are orders. I got out of my cot, stepped into a puddle, and started getting ready. I attached my bayonet to the end of my rifle when all of a sudden, there was a barrage of artillery fire. The British started pounding the trenches with heavy artillery fire. I ran for cover in one of the shelters. When the artillery fire finally stopped, it was 1:10 PM
I walked out of the shelter to see men everywhere, injured and in agonizing pain. One person was littered with shrapnel up and down his body. I also saw that the shrapnel from the artillery fire had punctured our gas tanks full of mustard and chlorine gas. The gases were seeping out into the trenches and the tanks weighed around 50 pounds each. They started to leak out. I knew if I didn't do something, everybody in the trenches would die from the gases
I put my shirt over my mouth and ran over to the tanks to throw them over the trenches. I hoped the wind would blow the gas into the British trenches. I was wrong.
The winds blew the gases back into the trenches. I ran back to my cot to grab my gas mask. I found it. Then I ran out of the tent to warn people what was happening But it was already too late; the wind had blown the gases throughout the trenches Men started to collapse to the ground, gasping for air, but all they got was another breath of the gas. I tried to save the men, but the men were already dying from the gases. It was no longer about trying to storm the British trenches. Rather, I was trying to save lives.
I realized that if I can grab the tanks and throw them into the British trenches, I could save the rest of the soldiers Through the chaos, I lost my rifle All I had on me was a knife, but I knew I had no time to find another rifle I peek over the trench, hoping I won't get shot I creep out of the trench and towards the gas tanks. Then I start to hear gunshots: one shot, then multiple. I dive into a crater from artillery fire. Then the German artillery starts pounding the British trenches. The firing from the British trench stops around 1:55 PM...
I realize this is my chance, so I climb out of the crater towards the tanks, crawling on my belly I get towards one of the tanks and throw it into a crater closer to the British trench
I do the same thing to the other one and get into the crater as well. Now I'm about 20 yards away from the British trench. The artillery fire had stopped, and the British soldiers were coming back out into the trenches. I knew I didn't have much time to get to the trench before the soldiers spotted me. So I threw the canisters as close as I could to the trench. Then I crawled out of the crater towards the tanks, hoping no British soldier would see me That's when I see a soldier pop his head over the trench, looking for
anything to move. I froze, hoping he wouldn't see me, when all of a sudden he was shot in the head. I keep crawling towards the trench Now, I'm about 5 yards out and about to throw the gas tanks into the trench, when another British soldier pops over the trench to see what happened to the other soldier. I knew he was going to see me. There was no escaping it. So I jumped up and charged him. He tried shooting at me, but missed, and I stabbed him in the torso. He let out a blood-curdling scream and said, “God damn you, you dirty German!” before he fell to the ground.
I knew my cover was blown now, so I ran back to the tanks and gave a Hail Mary, hoping the tanks would land by British soldiers After I threw them, I jumped back into a crater I peered over the crater to see what was happening on the British line. My plan had worked. The British soldiers running out of the trenches were trying to escape the gas When they got out of the trenches, they got machine-gunned down by the German machine gunner.
At that moment, I realized war doesn't just ruin one family – but millions upon millions of families.
L
JessyeKramer
I leave behind trails of woven threads. Each string of my friendship bracelets is like an aspect of my life: memories of people, joy, stories, and struggles. All threads strung together in unique patterns to show the intricacies of who I am becoming.
I started life as a simple pink thread, vibrant and full of potential. The first to join me were the dark blue hues of my parents’ embrace. Weaving their values into my character like a tight braid: compassion, optimism, and integrity Growing up in NYC, the streets and subway stations felt like extensions of my home, and the people were my extended family I watched my parents strike up a conversation with the owner of the corner bodega, our designated donut stop for the next eight years. My father, a family court lawyer and fierce advocate for children, would allow me to choose paint sets, fidgets, and games to comfort his youngest clients while their families were in court By witnessing these small acts, I learned empathy, sensitivity, and the quiet strength of acknowledging others.
My parents are my blue strands, not just for these reasons but also for their less conspicuous qualities: like my dad's fondness for blueberries and sky blue shirts, or the seemingly infinite shades of blue in my mother's wardrobe. From them, I also acquired my need for productivity, evident in my jam-packed schedule of clubs, community service, and artistic pursuits. I learned my strong work ethic from my mother, who always led by example through her dedication and perseverance Watching her balance responsibilities with determination taught me the value of hard work I’d like to think my optimism and sense of humor were inherited from my parents, too, on our long car rides upstate, where our thirteen chickens awaited us, and from the inside jokes we shared, like my dad’s signature joke: “How many baby moles does it take to make a pair of mole hair socks?”
As our pink and blue shades swirled together to form the foundation of my pattern, tones of deep red and pale yellow entered with the start of school. New friendships bloomed; relationships as genuine as the red of strawberries, but as light as the yellow of sunflowers The deep reds represent trust, comfort, and unwavering loyalty, while pale yellow stands for the levity gained from our adventures and endless laughter. From weekly sleepovers with my best friend, where we’d stain the floors with slime before playing Just Dance, to the end-of-school-year beach parties, where I first tried calamari, the memories I created with these people will last a lifetime
Boarding school wove in a rich green strand: intense and challenging, yet deeply transformative. This was a time often laced with knots, twists, and tangles of self-doubt stemming from venturing away from the familiar cityscape for the first time. Starting at a new school meant a new environment, opportunities, and people. Finding my place was difficult at first, but suddenly, there were teams of people rooting for me and ready to give the guidance that I didn't realize I so desperately needed. Four years of boarding school taught me self-discipline, independence, and how to live with people whose backgrounds, habits, and personalities were different from mine. The obstacles that led to these knots were what fortified my
braceletandwereultimatelywhatbuiltupmyconfidence.EagleHillisgreenbecauseitrepresentsgrowthand renewal,butalsobecauseafteryearsofattending,Iunintentionallycollecteddozensoft-shirtsmatchingthe school’sexactshade.
Lookingback,IseethatwhilethepeopleIloveandplacesIconnectwithformedmycolorpalette,myvalues weavethepattern.Whilepinkisvibrantandfullofpotentialonitsown,thedarkbluesoffamily,deepredsand paleyellowsoffriendship,greensofrenewal,andeventheknotsofstruggleareneededtoshinetruly.
AndI'mstillweaving.
OskarCallahan
Duringawalk,takenthousandsoftimes,younoticesomethingnew:thenewcoffeeshoptakestheplaceofa businessyoufrequent,andayogastudioyou'veneverseenbeforeissuddenlypartofyourroutine.
Thechangeisundeniable,andanabsencecanstillbefelt.Thefast-pacedurbanrevitalizationandeconomic growthinProvidence,RhodeIsland,threatentoleaveitslong-standingcommunitiesbehind.AsProvidence continuesinthisdirection,weareactivelylosingthosewhoshapedthiscityandkeptitunique.
Duringthelate50s,manyDominicanandPuertoRicanimmigrantsbegantofilterintoProvidence,coinciding withaphenomenonknowntodayaswhiteflight.Atthistime,desegregationandsocialchangewerebreaking downracialbarriersacrossthecountry Whitemiddle-classAmericanswhofearedracialintegrationbeganto immigratefromurbantosuburbanareas.WhiteflighthitProvidenceparticularlyhard,seeingitsfirstdecrease inpopulationsincethe1790s.From1950to1980,Providencelost96,700residents,a38%decreasefromthe peakpopulationof253,504.
Thoughthisperiodentailedasteadydeclineinwhiteresidents,DominicansandPuertoRicanswerenonetheless takingtheplaceofthosefleeing.Onewomaninparticular,DoñaFefa,wasthesparkthatlitthespreadofLatin influenceinProvidence.
MovingtoProvidencein1959,sherealizedhowlittleofhercultureshesawreflectedinthecity.Sheopened Fefa’sMarket,thefirstbodega,asaplacewhereLatinoscouldshopforfoodtheywereotherwiseunabletofind inthecity.WhatfollowedwasBroadStreetandthesouthsideasawholebecomingaplacewheremanyLatin businessesflourished.
TheinfluenceofLatinresidentsisstillvisibletoday.OsvaldoCastillofoundedCasaPuertoRico,acommunity centerinthemiddleofBroadStreetandElmwoodAvenuededicatedtoprovidingassistanceandhelping Latinosconnectwiththeirculture.Inadditiontothis,heworkedwiththemayoratthetime,“Buddy”Cianci,to changethenameofBishopStreettoBorinquenStreetbecauseasubstantialnumberofHispanicpeoplecould notpronounce“bishop.”HispanicresidentsofProvidenceplayedandstillplayanintegralroleinthecity’s development.
ThoughmanyHispanicsendedupinProvidence,thecitysawnoincreaseinpopulationuntilthe1980s.Since then,therehasbeenasteadytrendofgrowth,butProvidencehasnotreturnedtoitspeakpopulation.Once again,however,Providenceisexperiencingdemographicchange,withmostnewresidentsbeingofawhite, college-educatedbackground.
Providence'srevitalizationisveryfocusedonbreathinglifeintotheremnantsofoldProvidence.TheLapham, Trayne,andWitbuildingsonWestminsterStreetwerebuiltintheearly1900s,servingascommercial/office space,butinthelate20thcentury,thebuildingsusebecamelessconsistent.From2014to2017,theWit BuildingfeaturedaculturalcentercalledAurora.In2015,UnionStudioArchitecture,afor-profitarchitecture firm,andCornishAssociates,afor-profitrealestatedevelopmentcompanythatopenedAurora,began
constructiononthethreebuildings,withthepurposeofrestoringapartofProvidenceandbringingbackthe samesenseofcommunity.By2021,theprojectwasfinished.Eachbuilding'sfirstfloorwasutilizedforretail, withtherestofthefloorsdedicatedtoresidentiallofts,withtheexceptionoftheLaphamand Witbuildings' secondfloor.UnionStudioArchitecturelabelsitsapproachasunderstandingthe“needsofcommunity,”andits projectsaremeanttobe“financiallyandsociallysuccessfulandbenefitthecommunityandtheenvironment.”
WhilethesebuildingsarebeingputtousebyProvidence’sresidentsandbusinessowners,theyfallshortin fulfillingtheoriginalclaimsoftheoneswholedthisproject.ThemedianhouseholdincomeinProvidenceis $68,119.Thetwolargestracialgroupsarewhitepeople(37.4%)andHispanicpeople(45.3%).Themedian householdincomeforwhiteresidentsis$80,014,andforHispanicresidentsinProvidenceCounty,itis $44,850.Thatmeansonaverage,whiteresidentsmake$35,000morethantheaverageHispanicresident.
TheunitsonofferintheLapham,Wit,andTraynebuildingsarepricedsignificantlyhigherthanmarketrate, withstudioapartmentspricedatnearly$3,900amonth.Usingarentaffordabilitycalculator,whilenot consideringdebtandothermonthlyexpenses,revealsthat,consideringthemedianhouseholdincomeof Hispaniccitizens,manyindividualsmayonlybeabletoaffordarentof$1608.Giventhevastdisparityin incomebetweenWhiteandLatinoresidents,itisclearthatthisrevitalizationprojectisonlyaccessibletoa smallsubsetofthepopulation.
Inessence,45%ofProvidence'spopulationhasnowaytoaffordunitsinbuildingsthatclaimdedicationto communityandfinancialsuccesswiththegoalofrevitalizingapartofProvidence'shistory.Thisisahistory thatisdefinedinpartbyHispanicimmigrantswhostayedandintegratedtheircultureintothefabricofthecity, whilewhiteresidentsfled.Whiteresidentswhocannowaffordtoliveinthosebuildings.
Revitalizationofthiskindisveryinsidious,inthatitbuildsthenarrativeofastrengthenedcommunity, historicalrevitalization,andaffordabilityforall.Therealityendsupbeingastrengthenedcommunityofnew residents,thehistoricalrevitalizationofProvidencewithoutdiversity,andaffordabilityforaselectfew.Asnew residentsbeginoccupyinggreaterswathsofthehousingspaceinProvidence,moreHispanicsandotherswith lowhouseholdincomesendupbeingdisplaced.Infact,somereportthatthegentrifyingneighborhoodsin Providence,whererentsincreasedrapidlyfrom2000to2015,werepredominantlyHispanicorLatino,suchas Elmwood,theWestEnd,andUpperandLowerSouthProvidence. Despitethetangiblebenefitsofgrowth,both inpopulationandeconomicterms,thereareseriousrisksinthelossofProvidence'sdiversepopulationtowhite residentsmovingin.Itisparticularlyimportanttoconsiderthepost-industrialpastofcitieslikeProvidence. The deathofmanufacturingmeanslosttaxrevenueandjobs,leavingfarlessmoneytoputintothecommunity Peoplewhocanaffordtomovedomove,leavingaconcentrated,impoverishedpopulationbehind.Thismakes itevenhardertoclimboutoftheeconomicrut,initiatingacycle:aspovertydeepens,resourcesleave,andas resourcesleave,povertydeepensfurther,concentratingthosewiththeleastmeansintoanincreasinglyneglected city.Growthisthustheonlywaytoescapethecycle.Itiseasytoseewhymanypeoplebelievethatallgrowth isgoodgrowth,especiallyinapost-industrialcity.However,growthishard;itisincrediblyfragile.Oneofthe mainreasonsitcanfailisthefailuretoincludethelowerandmiddleclassesinpublicspacesandresidential decisions.Lowandmiddle-classareasareoftenoverlookedintheprocessofgrowth.Ifthishappens,thenthere isapotentialforcollapse,asthelowandmiddleclassesholdthecitytogether;thecyclewillcontinue.
Inattemptingonemethodofgrowth,therevitalizationofpublicandresidentialspaces,thelong-standing communitiesarebeingoverlooked,astheydonothavethefinancialbandwidthtobeapartofthe revitalization/growth,aproblemidenticaltothatoftheLapham,Wit,andTraynebuildings. Theycontinueto bedisplaced,theconcentrationofpovertyincreases,andthecyclestartsagain.Sowhilesomesayallgrowthis goodgrowth,post-industrialcitiesneedabalanceofmanyfactorsforthegrowthtobeeffective.
ThedisplacementprobleminProvidenceisadirectresultofitsurbanization.Itisanurbanizationthatpromises toreflectProvidence'svaluesandroots,butinsteadneglectsthem.Withoutanyonetorepresentthiscommunity, acommunitythatstartedwithFefe’sMarketandhasleftitsmarkwithblue,white,andredstripesonBroad Street,withthefoodeaten,withthestreetsdrivenon,withthepeoplewhoareknownandloved,Providence maybecomeashellofwhatitoncerepresented.
Asafinalword,Iurgeyou,thereader,tovoiceyoursupportforourlong-standingcommunities,beconscious ofthebusinessesyousupport,anddonotforgettherootsofProvidence,RhodeIsland.
Griffin Krombach
IlieonaPersianruginthelivingroomofmychildhoodapartment.Bookshelveslinethewalls,toppedwith tchotchkesfrommyparents’lives:amezuzahmadewithglassfromthegobletmydadstompedonattheir wedding,artcollectedbymymother,andchildhoodphotosofmydadlookingvery’80sandquitelikemy brother.Iliewithmyhandsproppingupmychin,therugimprintingonmyarms.Mywristsstartgettingsore, butIdonotmove.Inaway,Icannotmove.Iamentranced—listeningandimagining,zeroedinonthe beautiful,uniquesoundsofBroadway’sbest,singingthenuanced,gorgeousmelodiesofStephenSondheim, AndrewLloydWebber,StephenSchwartz,andmore.
Throughoutmychildhood,oneofthehighlightsofplaytimewaslisteningtomyfamily’sCDcollection, decipheringthewords,andmemorizingthemthroughosmosis.Wehadmanygenres,fromclassicrocktofolk tomusicaltheatre,whereIdiscoveredmyniche.IcannotrememberwhenIfirstlistenedtoamusicalorwhich showitwas,butIknowIfellinlovefromthestart.Overandover,fromthefirst“Iwish”opening Into the Woods tothefinalnotesof“It’sovernow,themusicofthenight”closing The Phantom of the Opera,Isatin thatlivingroom,focusingonthemusicastheshowsflickeredacrossmymind’sproscenium.
Myloveformusicaltheatrehasonlydeepenedovermylifetime.Iamfamousfor“Griffin’sPhases,”asmy familycallsthem,whenIbecomeinfatuatedwithaspecificmusicalandwantonlytostudyit,listentoit,and learnitslore.Thesephasestakemetomanyworlds,throughthelivesofcountlesscharacters,andthroughtime, haveshapedmeandcontinuetodoso.Thesemusicalsareamapofmylife,teachingmelessonsandgivingme newgiftsIcanalwaysrelyon.
Ifirstsaw Les Misérables inearlyelementaryschool,andmyparentsweresurprisedbyhowengrossedI becameinitsart,itsstory.Iwasexperiencingsomethingformative,somethingincrediblyimportanttomy developingself.Theshowwasteachingme:ittaughtmethevalueofcrusadingforwhatisright,helpingthe stranger,andtheimportanceofredemption.Italsohelpedasensitive,precociouslycompassionatekidrealizehe couldusehislimitedlifeexperiencetoempathizewithmanykindsofpeople—evenseeminglyvillainousones. Musicalslike Les Misérables havehelpedmecarvemypersonalvalues.Ofcourse,Ididnotlearnthoselessons onmyfirstwatch.Icametorecognizethemthroughrewatching,relistening,andstudyingeveryminuteof everymusicalIlove.Ittookyearsofcommitmentanddevotionformetofindthemeaningofeachone.Icould notlearnwithoutthepassionandpersistencetolearn.
IenactwhatI’vegleanedfrommusicalseveryday.Itisn’tjustinmylyricreferencesorBroadway-themed jokes,thoughImakeplentyofboth;it’sinthewayIlivemylife.Imodelmydecisionsonthedeeplyrooted valuesI’vedevelopedintheschoolofmusicaltheatre.ItiswhoIam.ImakeartasIdobecauseofDot’s musingstoGeorgeinthefinalscenesof Sunday in the Park with George.Idespisewar’scarnageandprioritize peacebecauseoftheTribe’sbellowingin Hair.Itakeoninjusticeunafraid,evenwhennobodyseemstonotice, becauseoftheplightofSallyBowlesin Cabaret.AndIlovedeeplyandgenerously,cherishingtheloveothers givemeastheloveofahigherpower,because Les Misérables says:“toloveanotherpersonistoseethefaceof God.”
Thisiswhatmusicalshavetaughtme.ThisishowIlivemylife—notbythebook,butbythelibretto.
Dodge Daverman
Afewyearsago,mydadbroughthomeagolfhatfromthecountryclubrightdownthestreet.Itsaidonit 123rd Western Amateur Skokie CC.IimmediatelyaskedhimaboutthehatbecauseIwasobsessedwithhatsat thetime.Ialwaysworeahat,andIalwayswantedtoaddmoretomycloset.Isawthatthehatsaid 2025 onthe sideofit,andonthatday,itwas2022.Ilistenedtomydadexplainhowit'sanawesomegolftournamentforthe mosteliteamateurgolfersintheworld.Iimmediatelystarteddaydreamingaboutwhatthedaywouldlooklike whenthattournamentcamearound.
It'sthenightbeforethetournamentnow,andIcan'tsleep.I'mecstaticaboutthisopportunitytomorrow.Igetup thenextmorningat6:00amandgetoutthedoorlikeaflash.
Ilivesoclosetothecountryclub,Ijustbikedovertoit.Ipickedupmycredentialsandheadtothedriving rangetogetsomewarmupphotos.Attherange,thereweregolferslikeMilesRussell,a16-year-oldwhowas the16th-rankedamateurintheworldatthetime.Also,BenJamesfromtheUniversityofVirginia,thenumber 2-rankedamateurintheworldandafavoriteforthechampionship.
Seeingtheseguysupclosewasawesome.Theyalwayshittheballperfectlyontherange,andtheirswingswere sosmoothandrepetitive.Igotsomereallycoolshotsbeforethefirstplayerswentofffortheirpracticeround.I gotabunchwherethenameplateonthegroundwasintheshot.Orwhereyoucouldseetheballintheairinthe followthrough.
Duringthepracticeround,Iwentandfollowedafewdifferentgroupsfordifferentpartsoftheday.Istartedby followingBenJames,TommyMorrison.andJackTurner.Theyweredefinitelysomeofthebettergolfersinthe tournament.
Isatdownonhole9andwatchedplayersmaketheturnfromthere.Iintroducedmyselftosomeoftheguysand toldthemaboutmyworkandgavethemabusinesscard.Latersomeoftheplayersfollowedmeon Instagram anddownloadedphotosfrommywebsite.Ithoughtthatwasprettycool!
Daytwoofthetournamentwasthefirstroundofstrokeplay.Strokeplayisjustlikeanormalprotournament: theplayersplay18holesonlyfocusingonplayingtheirownbestgolf,basedonalloftheotherplayersandtheir scores.Thereweretworoundsontwodaysofstrokeplay.Aftertheseconddayofstrokeplay,thefieldof playerswascutdownfrom156playersto44players.
Imetthisotherphotographeratthetournament.HewasfromSeattle,Washington.Hehasworkedforsome PGAtoureventsandisaprogolfphotographerandvideographer.Heisverysuccessfulandhassomeverygood photosonhiswebsiteandhis Instagram.Heevenhashisownseriesofbookscalled Golf Is Art.Hewasreally niceandtaughtmesometricksaboutgolfphotography.
Ididn'trealizethisuntildaythreeofthetournament,butondayone,TylerWatts,a17-year-old,brokethe courserecord.Heshota62,whichwasan8-underpar.Anincrediblescorefora17-year-old.Hewasalsoa lefty.Veryfewoftheplayersinthistournamentwerelefties.
Itwasaveryeventfuldayfour Thiswasthelastdayofqualifyingformatchplay TylerWattswasonthebrink ofgoinghomeafterhiscourserecord-breakingfirstround.Hewasnowina7playerplayoffforachancetoget intothematchplaypartofthetournament.4spotswereavailableandthisplayoffwasintense.
Thedrivesofftheteegavemechills.Thesemomentswouldbeperfectforjaw-droppingimages.Allthetee shotswereplayableandtheplayerswerelockedin.Alltheplayers'2ndshotsendeduponthegreen.Thishole isapar4,soeveryoneonthegreenisperfect.Thepersonfarthestawaygoesfirst.Thefirstguygoesandputsit afewinchesaway.Atapinpar.Thenextfewguysdothesame.TylerWattshasashorterputthanmost,butit's verydownhill.Ifheputstoomuchonit,hisballisoffthegreen.Helinesup,hitsit,anditlooksgood,butit hitsthelipandrolls2feetawayfromthehole.Notagoodputt.Hesavesparthough.Onepersongetsabirdie ona4-footputandsecuresaspotinmatchplay.Everyoneelsekeepsplaying.
Onthenextgreeniswherethingsgotcool.Themistinthebackwiththesunsetbehinditmadeitperfectfor sickshotsofplayerslininguptheirball.Igotalotofgoodphotosofthat.Everyonemadeparonthathole exceptfor2players.Theybogied,sotheywereoutofit.4playersremained.
Thenextholeisapar3.Theteeshotsweregreat.Everyballonthegreen.Wattsisthefarthest,soheputsfirst. Helips-outona25-footer.Hehasashockedfaceonhim.He'sindisbeliefbecausetheotherplayershaveeasy puttstoqualify.Iftheymaketheirputts,theyqualify,andWattsdoesn't.Sureenough,that'swhathappened.The 17-year-oldcourserecordholderdoesnotqualify.
IreallywantedtoseemoreofWattsthatweek,butit'swhatever.JohnDalyIIbarelymadethecutashefinished withabirdieonhole18tosavehisspot.Iwasgladhequalifiedbecauseit'scooltoseehimplay.Iwashoping hisdadwould'vebeenthere,though.Hisdadwasa2timemajorwinnerandaniconicgolferinthelate80sand early90s.
EthanFangofOklahomaStatewasafavoritetowinnow.Hewasranked3rdintheworldamateurrankingsand wasonfireduringthistournament.HefacedJacobModleskiinthesemi-finals.ModleskiplaysforNotre Dame,whichissomewhatcloseby,sohehadalotoffansrootingforhim.HeplayedwellbutlosttoEthan Fangonthe17thholeofthesemifinals.
JaseSummyandZacharySwanwickwerefacingoffbehindthefirstgroup.Notasmanypeoplewerewatching them,astheywerenotashighlyrankedasFangorModleski.Thiswasstillagoodmatchup,asitlastedall18 holestodecideawinner.Summywaswinningonthe13thholeandwaslookingreallysolidandconfident.He waswinningby3,butonthe14thtee,thingstookaslightturnforhim.The14thholeisashortpar4;somehit driver,whilesomeclubdownandplayitsafer.ItlookedlikeSummydidn'tknowwhattodo.Hisopponenthit hisdriverintothewindcomingfromtheleft,andisontherightsideofthefairway,rightbythegreen.Summy decidedtogowithhis2ironandplaymoreconservative.Heendeduphittingtheballintothetallgrassinthe middleofholes14and15.Hehadnoangletothegreenforhisnextshot.
Summyhadabadholefromthere.Helostthatholeandwasnowwinningby2holeswith4toplay.IfSummy wonthenext2holes,hewouldbesetforthefinalagainstFang.ThiswasreallytheperfectsituationIhad hopedforcomingintothetournament.Ireallywantedtheretobeagoodmatchupthatwascloseinthesemifinals.Thesetimesarewhatmanykidsdreamof;foranysport,really Theexcitementandanticipationrunning throughyourbody.Icanonlyimaginewhattheplayersfeltlikeinthesemoments.
I'vealwaysdreamedofplayingaprofessionalsportandhavingoneofthose“gamewinningshot”moments. ThroughoutmychildhoodIspenthoursofmydaysplayinghockey,baseball,basketball,prettymuchanysport. ButIneverthoughtofsportsphotography.NowIthinkplayingsportsisn'twhatIwanttodo.Nowinsteadof takingthosegamewinningshots,Iwanttocapturethemthroughmylens.SportsphotographyisnowwhatI wanttopursue.
Summyhada6-footputttowinon17.Hemissedbyacuplengthaway.Swanwickhadtomakethis4-footputt toforceanotherhole,andyes,hesunkit.Abigfistpumpcameoutofhim,andImadesuretogetafewphotos ofthat,buttheywerealloutoffocus.That'swhatkillsmeeverytimeIshootagameorevent.Ifaphotois blurryandit'sabigmoment,Ifeelsoannoyed.
Onthe18thhole,SummyhadsecuredhisspotinthefinalafterSwanwickmisseda7-footputttotie.Summy andhiscaddiewereecstatic.Hegavehiscaddieabigfistbumpinexcitement.Withthat,thefinalwasset.The favoriteforthetitle,EthanFang,versustheunderdog,JaseSummy.BothgotocollegeinOklahoma,butfor differentschools.
Thefinalwasinsane.Thereweresomanypeopleonthecoursefollowingtheplayers.Itmadeithardtogetinto positionstogetgoodphotos.Whentheplayersgottothe10thhole,Iwentovertothe13thfairwaytoliedown intheshadebecauseIwassoexhaustedfromtheintenseweek.
WhenIgottoashadyspot,IdownloadedalotofmyphotostomyphonesoIdidn'thavetodothatlater.That's alwaysareallyannoyingpartbecauseitcantake2minutesor30minutes,dependingontheinternet connection.Thistimeittookabout10minutesandasthedownloadfinished,theplayersweregettingreadyto hitonthe13thteebox.IputmySDcardbackinmycameraandgotreadytocatchtheplayerswalkingdown thefairway.
Summywasupbig.Allhehadtodowastiethisholetoclinchthechampionship.IwantedFangtowin,but Summyshoweduprightatthetimeswhenitmatteredmost.Hewasunstoppableduringthechampionship match.ItookaspotrightonthebackofthegreensoIcouldcatchthepossiblechampionship-winningputt.
Iwasreallynervous.IwasnervousbecauseIhadnevergottenthechancetohavethistypeofactionrightin frontofme.Thiswasabigtournament,anditfeltlikeIwasshootingforthepros.Theshottowinissomething allsportsphotographerswanttoget.WhenSummyhithisputt,itlookedofftarget.Buttheballreallywantedto gointhecupandhavethisplayerwin.JaseSummywonthe123rdWesternAmateurwiththatputt.
Hedidn'tcelebrateveryhard.HepickeduphisballandimmediatelyshookFang'shandandcongratulatedhim forwhathe'sdone.Hehuggedhiscaddie,andIgotagreatshotofthat.Summytheneruptedwithabig,happy yell.
Summywasgiventhebigtrophyaftersomehandshakeswiththescorekeepersandtournamentstaff.Igotreally solidphotosofhimkissingthetrophyandholdingitup.
Theweekofthetournamentwentbysoquicklythatitfeelslikeitneverhappened.Iamgratefultohavehad thatopportunity,andnowIlovephotographinggolf.Itmightbeoneofmyfavoritesportstophotograph.
KJ Johnson
Overthesummer,Iwantedtoplaybasketballatthelocalpark,AdairPark,inmyneighborhood
IusedtowearaNikesheistyonmyheadlikeawavecap,andIhaditonthatday.IsawtwokidsIknewfrom myoldschool,andIwenttosaywhat’sup.Oneofthekids,Dak,hadbeentomyhousewhenwewerekidsin elementaryschool.Iusedtoridebikeswithhimontheweekends.Weusedtoridetothecornerstoretobuy snacks,orwewouldridetotheparktoplaybasketball.Heevenatemygrandmother’scooking.My grandmotherisagoodcookandherfavoritethingtomakeisspaghetti.
Ihadn’tseenhiminawhilesinceIwenttoboardingschool.SowhenIranintohimatthepark,Idecidedto playballwithhim.Ididn’tknowtheotherkidverywell,butIdidgotoelementaryschoolwithhim,too.
Theyplayeditliketheywerecoolwithmeandshothoopswithme.Dakthenaskedtoseemysheisty.Itold himnobecauseIamnotgreen,butIknewwhatwasupandcontinuedtoshoothoopsforalittlebit.Ithought wewouldbeplayingbasketball.Iknewthattheonlywayhewouldgetitwasifhetookitoffmyhead.Buthe kepttalkingaboutit,keptaskingtoholdit,andIkepttellinghimno.That’showitgoes;peoplewillkeep askingtoseesomethingtheywant,andyoucan’tbecoolwiththemandpolitelydecline.Ifyouletthemseeit, itturnsintotheirsnow.ButIdidn’tthinkhewouldtrytostealfrommeaslongaswewereplayingbasketball.
Hegotmeoffguardandsnatchedmysheistyoffofmyhead.WhatcouldIdo?Iwasoutnumberedtwotoone. Itriedtoreachforhim,buthepunchedmeandhisfriendgrabbedme.Dak’sfriendtoldmetoletitgo.
IwasupsetandIwentbacktothehousetograbsomethingtohurthimwithbecauseIwantedmysheistyback. Butmycousintoldmeitwasnotworthaforty-dollarsheisty
Afterwards,IthoughtaboutitanddecidedIwasn’tgoingtotakerevenge.
Mycousinwasright.Mycousinistwoyearsolderthanme.ShealwayshasgoodadviceandItrytolistentoit. MycousinisalwaysthereformeandstopsmefromdoingstuffImightregret.
D o d g e D a v e r m a n
