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letter from the headmaster Our school is a truly amazing example of what vision and perseverance can create. The real estate that our beautiful campus sits on originally housed the Boys Market drive-up farm stand in a dirt parking lot. Now, two of the children of the owner of that farm stand attend our elementary school which has grown over the past years to include several state of the art buildings including the Media Center, the Fine Arts building, Science Labs, Courtroom, Running Track and now a new

Equus Staff Editor in Chief

Dining Hall. The idea for the school came from area families who were dissatisfied with their existing educational choices. These families persuaded me to create a college preparatory school based on the core philosophy of Knowledge, Integrity and Compassion. With the merger of All-Star Academy and American Heritage School in January 1999, our ability to grow and expand has been truly remarkable.

Alexa Dysch, ‘11 Technical Director Adam Lowy, ‘11

Archivist/Secretary Jasmine Baxter, ‘11 Business Managers Michael Field, ‘11 Jackie Miller, ‘13 Photography Editors Erika Solloway, ‘11 Jared Preiser, ‘12 Lauren Ryan, ‘13 Club Members Anthony Coons, ‘14 Blake Meredith, ‘12 Cameron Wheeler, ‘13 Dani Dysch, ‘14 Erika Solloway, ‘11 Evan Mileusnic, ‘11 Jamie Benito, ‘14 Jasmine Baxter, ‘11 Josh Brito, ‘14 Josiah Blanchette, ‘13 Max Himmelrich, ‘14 Michael Field, ‘11 Michael Wallace, ‘12 Miryam Benito, ‘11 Class Members Adam Lowy, ‘11 Alexa Dysch, ‘11 Casey Estes, ‘14 Giovanni Campanale, ‘12 Jackie Miller, ‘13 Jared Presier, ‘12 Jared Rubin, ‘12 Josh Hirsch, ‘11 Lauren Ryan, ‘13 Robbie Tharp, ‘13 Ryan Hight, ‘11 Stephanie McFarlane, ‘14 Advisor M.T. Thompson-Wilkinson Cover Art Adam Lowy, ‘11

Photo by Adam Lowy, ‘11

Graphic Design & Layout Editors Adam Lowy, ‘11 Robbie Tharp, ‘13 Alexa Dysch, ‘11

... And We Grow!


Letters from the Editors: Alexa Dysch & Adam Lowy....... 4 -5 Op Ed ............


Fine Arts Round-Up ....... 10 - 11 Featured Artist: Photography Evan Mileusnic .......... 16 - 17 Our Super Heros ........ 19 - 22

In seventeen short years from our school’s creation, our school has grown from 43 middle school students to 1,043 students in grades PK3 – 12. Year after year, our students receive honors, accolades and win championships, county and state wide, in academics, extracurricular organizations and athletics. Congratulations to all of you for being a part of something that has a truly unique and successful history. Sincerely, Robert Stone Headmaster Cover Art by Adam Lowy, ‘11 Adam is working towards a career in graphic design & marketing. He created the cover with an assemblage of digital and personal hand drawn artwork.


Letter from the Editor

To the Equus Staff and Advisor & the American Heritage family,

In the beginning, there was an idea, an advisor, Adam Lowy and myself. We were on the “ground floor” as they say and we are proud of how the magazine has developed in such a short time. After four years of working with Equus, and three years as the Editor In Chief, I myself, find it easy to describe my experience with Equus, in that, as it is often said, was inexpressible and leaves me without words. Funny, for someone who has spent every day thinking of ways to extend a sentence or edit a passage, the hardest piece I’ve ever had to write, is this letter. To sit down and think about how to describe my personal development through Equus, has been more difficult than assembling the whole magazine. Ultimately, I am so proud to be a part of this magazine, and honored to have worked with and become friends with those who contributed to its existence, whether as a resilient editor, creative writer or dedicated reader. Every student who has their name in this magazine, each person who opens up our covers, and all those who dedicated their time and effort to the completion of past issues and this present edition, you have all contributed to a truly unique and exceptional Equus experience. Now, as I am nearing graduation and contemplating my new endeavor as a college student, I realize it is time to say goodbye. As difficult as it is to say those goodbyes to my teachers, classmates and fellow seniors, it is even more difficult to say them to my “family in spirit”, the literary magazine staff. Our times together have been full of laughter, creative energy and an appreciation for caffeine. Facing this task, it is often easy to become overwhelmed with clichéd farewells and classic words of wisdom for those who are left behind. So, to avoid the cliches and trite words of wisdom because as Keanu Reeves said in The Replacements, “That just wouldn’t be us”, I say - rock to the beat of your own band, follow your inner artist, let your quirky side run wild and never be afraid to be unique! Follow that ‘different vision’ and test all the boundaries! What could be better than being yourself? Shine on and let your words be carried into the wind; in vento scribebat!

E q u u s S t a f f & C l u b 2 010 - 2 01 1

- Alexa Dysch, Editor In Chief, Class of 2011

Spring 2011 | 4

in vento scribebat

Letter from the Technical Editor Oh, W hat Fun! Congratulations on your purchase of the 3rd annual publication of American Heritage’s literary magazine, Equus. It’s almost the end of the 2010-2011 school year and, as always, this issue is the result of a team effort by the entire class and club. This year is the first year we had a publication class for the literary magazine and we are hoping that the class will bring new students who want to work in print publication using their artistic and technical skills to create a magazine that represents the best of our school. Each year, our club membership grows as students bring their talents to the production. With the help of our advisor, MT Thompson-Wilkinson, we progressed from our first issue, a black and white issue of 24 pages to a second issue of 36 pages full color, for which we were awarded rank of “Excellent” by the National Teachers Council of English literary magazine competition. This award ranked us in the top 15 of nearly 500 publications. This is a great accomplishment for such a new enterprise. As this is my fourth year working with the magazine and my final year at American Heritage, I would just like to say thanks for the opportunity this club has given me. Working with the magazine gave me a way to work with graphics and design elements that I will carry into my college major of graphic design. Alexa Dysch and I were the first two recruits that Ms T-W brought on board and we think we have created a legacy. We have a real desire for the magazine to go on, successfully, for years to come and for each member to have as unique an experience as I have had. I have learned so much and I can’t believe this is the end. All I have to say is .. everyone is special, no matter what anyone says, no matter how long it takes, try, try again to achieve all your dreams. .....

E q u u s C l a s s M e m b e r s 2 010 - 2 01 1

This is Adam Lowy, signing off.

written into the wind


Having the largest Key Club in Florida despite our school’s small size is a huge indication of what comes first at American Heritage. Service with a passion has become a priority here, and our Student Body, with the aid of the Key Club advisor (and so much more) Mr. Neil Rosen, have been working extremely hard this year to make sure that our action in our community is proportional to the size of our club.

dedication for helping those less fortunate than themselves both in our homes, schools and communities as well as outside of our own communities, venturing out into other communities to serve those in need.

Going full throttle in 2011, Key Club this year has picked up numerous projects alongside the ones that it has participated in during years past, like Toys for Tots. New projects, like the Ronald McDonald house Charity, and the upcoming hospital which the school aims to raise money for in Uganda, have set our school apart in their

Also, Key Club this year at American Heritage has gone all online! Agendas, monthly calendars, and informational fliers about ongoing and upcoming activities are all posted to Edline for the first time ever. This improved ease of access to information has allowed the Key Club members to serve even more, and helped keep them up to date on all the new actitivies going on in Key Club, even from the comfort of their own homes. Spring 2011 | 6

Blake Meredith, ‘11

in vento scribebat


A group of Key Club members congregates before the start of the school year to discuss the plan of action of how to maximize member participation in the Key Club.

A group of soon-to-be Key Club members waits anxiously for their induction to begin. With the biggest Key Club in Florida, it’s no surprise that American Heritage is able to help out so much!

written into the wind

Blake Meredith, ‘11



Faculty & Student Words of Wisdom

Who Runs the U.S.? The Effect of the Two-Party System

Running for political office is expensive.

-Josiah Blanchette, ‘13

Ridiculously expensive. Florida’s 22nd District Ron

way they are told. If they do not, funding will be

Klein raised $3,776,867 to campaign against

withheld, and they will probably never be elected

Allen West; he eventually ended up spending

again. So, who really runs this country?

$5,319,671 on his failed campaign. Hillary

Clinton’s failed campaign for President raised

Census of 2008, only 58% of Americans voted.

$26 million in the first three months of 2007

Within that 58%, few of us really know about the

while competing with Barack Obama for the

campaigners. We look at the smear campaigns

Democratic Nomination. John McCain claims

on TV, and pick the name on the sign that




Mostly, it is our fault. According to the U.S.

his loss to Barack Obama was due

catches our eye on the side

the lack of campaign funds at his

of the road. I once overheard

disposal. The U.S. Government is

a teenager saying “Whoever

filled with representatives that

wants to win can just win. I

made the most money in their

do not care. It doesn’t matter

districts and unless a candidate

what I think...” We carry these

is as privately wealthy as Mayor

attitudes into adulthood, and

Bloomberg of New York, one

we do not think we can change

primarily relies on donations.

government. We can, and we

When donations are not enough, you

have a responsibility to use educated decisions

must rely on funding from either the Democrats

while voting. However, the other 42% of us

or the Republicans. The problem is, once a

Americans should at least vote.

candidate accepts money from either of the

National Committees, the Committee owns

the Senate as of now and I rarely speak with a

them. If a National Committee owns a candidate,

Democrat or Republican who believes the party

its constituents and donors own him or her. The

line 100%. So why are almost all of the seats

Republicans take money from big banks and

in Congress one or the other? On an episode of

the Chamber of Commerce. The Democrats are

the Simpsons, two aliens impersonated both of

no different, taking money from labor unions

the Democrat and Republican candidates for



president, and were revealed as aliens. The

Barack Obama himself has taken money from

aliens said, “It’s too late now, we are all you

oil companies. What does this mean?


have.” A man in the crowd said “I’ll vote for the

politician wanting to change anything about

Independent!” The aliens said “Fine! Waste your

how our country is governed could only vote the





There are only two Independents in

*Gadfly, an annoying type of fly that often pesters cattle, greek mythology: Zeus is enraged by the Baleropron’s attempt to ascend Mt. Olympus, the home of the gods. He sends a gadfly to sting Pegasus. The winged horse is startled and he rears backward. Baleropron loses his grip and falls back to Earth. Athena spares his life but Pegasus is lost to him forever.

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in vento scribebat

Fro m t he Co r ra l American Heritage School National Signing Day


Robby Nasiff - FAU Herve Coby - BowliNG Green Kyle Reynolds - Union College

Baseball Alex Leighton - Flagler College Jacob O’Keefe - Univ of Massachusetts


Miranda Fyfe - Jacksonville Univ Lauren Silver - Univ of Florida Tara McNab - Palm Beach Atlantic

...Con’t from previous page.

Sadly, this is true, and a

vote for an independent is often times a wasted vote. That is why we need to develop a system for independents to get enough money to run properly. This, along with more voter interest and participation, will actually make the U.S. Government the efficient and competitive voice of the people that it was meant to be.

written into the wind

Danelle Nguyen - St. Thomas Miami Univ

Jason Wellington - Seton Hall

George Naranjo - Dickinson College Verneri Valimaa - George Mason

Ice Hockey Meghan Huertas -Univ of Vermont

Stallion Soccer Teams Honored -by Casey Estes, ‘14

On March 21st, 2011, our Stallion soccer teams were honored at a school wide assembly for both teams having won their State Championships. Guest of Honor at the assembly was long time West Palm Beach County Commisioner Burt Aaronson, who presented a proclamation declaring that March 21st, 2011 was designated and voted by the Commission as American Heritage Stallions Day. American Heritage students showed their Stallion Spirit as the records of both teams were recounted. On February 10th, 2011 our girls soccer team won their State Championship, with a 4-1 over Trinity-Prep. Karina Rodriguez, Yulie Lopez, and Lauren Silver had key goals in the win. The team also captured the State Championship in 2009, making this their 4th State Championship title since 2004. Then, on February 17th, 2011 the boys team won a very close game that ended in the scoring of a last minute goal by Jason Wellington assisted by Brian James leading the boys to a 1-0 win over Jacksonville-Providence. This is the team’s 3rd State Championship title. Congratulations to the coaches, and soccer teams for all their dedication and hard work, during this successful season and we hope that many more follow!


Fine Arts Round Up Ar tb yD an iD ys ch ,‘ 14

-Noelle Filippone, ‘14


Butterflies dance inside me

character, feel what my character

and my heart wants to jump

feels and before I know it, the

right from my stomach onto

music fades to a dull roar. The

As the scene progresses, I can

the floor in front of me. They,

audience is suddenly silent and the

taste the words trickling off of

the dreaded, anonymous ‘they’,

stage black. The intensified popping

my lips. The lines flow so naturally

tell me I shouldn’t go on, but

of potato chip bags and crinkling

out of my body…almost as if I

theatre is my obsession; so how

of candy wrappers turn into a

am my character. How brilliant,

could I resist? I can hear the

symphonic rhythm announcing my

that is exactly what my goal

lines running through my head,

cue to go on.

was, exactly what my goal still is.

refreshing my memory, prompting

I grab the hands of my friends

It’s an amazing feeling to be up

me for what I need to say. I

beside me. We squeeze so tightly

there on the stage. When the

calm my nerves by telling myself

we almost yelp in pain, good pain,

final word is spoken, and the final

that everything is going to be

but pain nonetheless and right

black out takes place, a feeling of

all right. I say “I have faith in

before we make our way through

achievement takes over my body.

my fellow actors. They will help

the curtain, we encourage each

I radiate with happiness. The lights

me through all predicaments we

other to, in the vernacular of the

come up on the curtain call. As I

experience on the stage, whether

theatre, “break a leg”.

look into the audience I see the

it be rehearsed, or not.” Then I

The lights come up, as my

proud faces of my family and

proceed to whisper the mantra

character comes on. The audience

friends. I then take a good look

of the theatre,

goes silent and I feel at peace.

around on stage. Not only do I

imaginary circumstances”.

I can smell the reassuring scent

see my fellow actors, I see my

This phrase echoes in my mind

of buttered popcorn. I can

best friends…my family.

and I repeat it a good ten times.

almost taste the sweet and salty

Theatre is where my heart is.

I close my eyes, and see my


Theatre is my home.

“I live truthfully in

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in vento scribebat

Photo and Poem by Stephanie McFarlane, '14 If my touch on a flower could make a tree grow, Th e n eve r y t r e e , f i l l e d w i t h f l o w e r s w o u l d f l o u r i s h . I f m y t o u c h o n a r i ve r b a n k c o u l d m a k e t h e r i ve r p u r e , Th e n n o o n e w o u l d w o r r y a b o u t b e i n g t h i r s t y. I f m y t o u c h o n a p l at e c o u l d m a k e a n a b u n d a n c e o f f o o d , Th e n w o r l d h u n g e r w o u l d b e c u r e d . I f m y t o u c h o n t h e g r o u n d w o u l d s t a rt t h e m u s i c , Th e n eve r y r o a d w o u l d b e a d a n c e f l o o r . I f m y t o u c h o n yo u r h e a rt w o u l d g i ve m e t h e k e y, Th e n I w o u l d h ave a l r e a d y u n l o c k e d yo u r h e a rt . written into the wind

11 | EQUUS

Starting with your eyes No matter how dark

they are, I feel like I can

Just you

see right through them

What's going on in them, like tells a story How you're feeling, your eyes tell it all

Your smile is indescribable, but I'll try my best So charming, sweet, innocent, cute, calming.

I melt when I see that million dollar smile In my eyes you're perfect I need no one else

You make me feel happy when I'm sad

Feels good to be me when I'm around you I'm no one else but myself with you Don't have to prove anything to you You like me for me

I hope you feel the same Spring 2011 | 12

-Yulie Lopez, ‘12 in vento scribebat

written into the wind

Photo by Max Himmelrich, ‘14

13 | EQUUS

What can I say, but “you amaze me” Grabbing for the glowing blue moon Tipping toes, it comes and goes Reach for the stars, my miss And knit the most beautiful cloth; Most of silk is kind and norm But this might be the most pure

The blue-ish shadow to make you Into the perfect angel of my world; I watch you dance in that mirror Your smile gazes into my eyes I can’t help but grin right back And listen to you spin and twirl; What can I say, but "you amaze me"


Adam Lowy, '11


o by


Spring 2011 | 14

m Be



in vento scribebat

Through the snow-glazed window pane An angel’s warm breath kindles The man’s heart fills with pain As his fear dwindles Ultimately indulged in his soul Throwing agony in a dark hole Eyes wander place to place throughout A chamber of his heart’s despair Life’s best moments on the precious route Flashbacks of laughter like a golden flare Reminds him of an effervescent time When all his dreams remained sublime He sought to his somber regrets Not often seeing his next of kin In pure detail he forgets As his tears dwell within Sparkling acid falls from his warm eyes

rika E by 1 oh t o a y , ' 1 P ollow S

Soul diminishing like injured butterflies He glances the radiant nightscape Seeing the bright moon cast a spell

written into the wind

-Clara Feraru, '13

He drops more subtle tears, wonders why The moons tells him her last farewell Knows he’s got few to live Watching him cry, she gives in to forgive Embracing him, his wife appears Concern showing so warm Sadly joining his merciful tears Falls into his frail and delicate arm Feels his pain as it languishes Like a bark connected to its branches Sunrise came, his soul divulged sweetly Angels cried together Taking him to heaven melancholily Leaving back a feather Sun shimmers its golden rays Reassuring many felicitous days Seven years later I find That feather on grandma’s bed Since then, it has helped bind Our hearts and life ahead Hope is our revival Our souls will be our life’s arrival

15 | EQUUS

One Spring Morning

Photo by Erika Solloway, ‘11

Poems by Jordan Capizola, ‘12

Dew on flowers, Early in the morning. I suspect spring showers, So I’ll take warning. Their colors shine bright, Purple, yellow, and blue, They really are quite a sight. I continue to walk on through. The sun continues to rise. The flowers are in full bloom. Animals wake up and rub their eyes. The flowers smell like perfume. Spring is here once again, And everything has come to life. Nothing is plain, There is no strife.

Summer’s On the Horizon

Spring is almost gone, And summer is approaching. School is almost out. The days are longer, The sun shines so much brighter, The pool is warmer. I go to the beach, And lay in the sunshine, And enjoy summer.

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in vento scribebat

Life is good

Start the flower's life

with respect

Too short to be

Get rid of some strife

On you it will reflect

taken for granted

Let go of some greed

The sun gives

Don't leave a flower

Share and only get needs

energy and light

to be planted

Treat people

Take it in and don't fright

P h oto s b y M a x S h a v r i c k, ‘ 1 4

Because the world is an open place New experiences ready its race Take it slow, remember it all Don't let life block you like a wall

-Alisha Goldberg, ‘12 written into the wind

17 | EQUUS

Featured Contributor

Evan Mileusnic, class of ‘11, began posting his photographs to photo sharing website Flickr in 2009.

Spring 2011 | 18

in vento scribebat


Since then, more than 25,000 people have viewed his photographs, and blogs from Tokyo to London have featured his work. Evan will be attending American University in Washington D.C., where he will continue his artistic endeavors. You can see hundreds of Evan’s pictures at

written into the wind

19 | EQUUS

Hope' s


La st


une 13th, 2008, a flicker had appeared in my parent’s bedroom... Odd, since they were out of town due to Father’s antiquities venture in Greece. A moment of uneasiness, swiftly followed by fear, flowed through my veins, “What could an ill young woman from the province do?” As the possible significance of an intruder crossed my mind, I went towards Pandora’s room, who, although she was only a maid, was the closest thing I had to a friend. I ran down the hallway, and, in the back of my mind, I noted the lack of servants floating about the house. Usually, when I go to Pandora’s room, it was empty, something that is not possible when it is past curfew. I finally acknowledged the fact that I was all alone and I left to face whatever caused the “light” in my parent’s room. I didn’t know where the weapons room was, so I took a sword from one of the many suits of armor lining the hall. As I approached my parent’s bedroom, I heard loud noises like someone was crying out in pain. I stood frozen in place like my feet had been glued to the floor. I held my breath and concentrated on the sounds for what seemed like an eternity, and recognized one of the voices as Pandora’s. With courage that I didn’t know I possessed, I peeked through the open door. What I saw cannot be described for I am not able to put the words together but I shall tell you that Pandora was in that room with my fiance, Damien King, the sole heir of the king family line, a now unwanted guest in this household. According to ancient Greek mythology, Pandora’s curiosity got the better of her and she opened the box, only this time she had opened the

Spring 2011 | 20

artwork & writing by

Lauren Zemel, ‘14

wrong box, my box. As I gazed upon this horrific scene of ultimate betrayal, a hidden box inside me opened. All but a single strand of Hope had flown away from that box making up my entire being. When the last mark of betrayal was imprinted on my soul, I fled from the scene and headed to make my plans. Soon the night had taken its final bow, and the sun had graced us with the light of its eyes. At breakfast, I pretended that all was well in the world. I cooed with Damien “The Demon” King and danced in the garden with man’s demise, but when night fell on these lands, the play had ended. All actors must leave the stage. I had hidden myself in my mother’s armoire waiting for those who corrupted my purity to reveal themselves. At the stroke of midnight, they began where they had left off. The Demon King began his embrace of the maid, but when their backs were turned, Hope began to take its turn. I jumped from the armoire and plunged the sword into Pandora’s back. As she crumpled on the floor and Damien collapsed in shock, I felt a smile come across my lips and a laugh burst from my mouth. The invigorating feeling had me stunned. “Why?” asked Damien. I headed towards him in a slow gait. As my lips brushed across his, I swung the sword across his throat. He collapsed against his lover. I sat there and wept for hours, not for the loss of them, but for the loss of my last saved good intention- Hope. I stumbled out of my house and into the woods. As I passed elm after elm, my face dried up. [continued on pg. 35]

in vento scribebat

Radam Radam Designs Designs Presents Presents

Created Created By By Adam Adam Lowy, Lowy, ‘11 ‘11 and and Robbie Robbie Tharp, Tharp, ‘13 ‘13 As a team a.k.a. Radam Designs, Adam and As a team a.k.a. Radam Designs, Adam and Robbie Robbie co-designed co-designed the the center center spread spread using using live live and comic elements to create the following and comic elements to create the following homage homage to to some some of of our our marvelous marvelous faculty! faculty!


t is December 22nd, 2012. Things that are before my eyes are unbelievable. They said the world was going to end on December 21st, 2012 but they were wrong. The world didn’t end it just changed. Volcanoes didn’t suddenly erupt throwing white ash into the atmosphere like an uncapped blender and its contents nor did the earth’s crust part between our feet creating a gap the size of the Grand Canyon. Things are just different. Different good or different bad, I’m not sure but I do know that things changed for a reason. A large shadow looms above me seemingly the size of the empire state building. It passes quickly and I see the magnificently glittering scales of a dragon glinting off the sun as it sails above me. I can hear the fairies soft ringing voices whispering to each other like a melody, twisting and turning within my eardrums, and I can feel the violent violet grass beneath my sneakers crunching and crackling as I brusquely stride through the park. President Barack Obama says we shouldn’t worry and that this is a change for the better, but something in the very depths of my gut tells me that this isn’t for the better, but that it is for the brainless. When has going along with the demands of some random aliens EVER been a good idea? This all started yesterday December 21st, 2012. It’s hard for me to remember much of anything but it won’t kill me to try. When I pried my eyes open yesterday morning seemed normal. The birds were chirping, the smell of bacon was wafting throughout my house and it seemed as if it was about to be a normal day. It seemed as if it was nothing like the end of the world rumors and theories that had been circulating the globe like a highly contagious disease. Then CRASH the ground began to shudder and shake and as my precious belongings hurled to the floor I regretted never believing the

written into the wind

I practically screeched. My mom slowly turned around, only it wasn’t “S cales that protect them like an armored tank. my mom, it was some weird creaTails that can grow and reach a great length. ture. This creature had short, stringy, Eyes, so fierce, they can cause hearts to stop. school bus yellow, Claws, to pierce even the hardest of rocks. spaghetti hair, wide set orange eyes Wings, for flight and to cut through the wind. Some swim, for their wings were replaced with fins the size of saucers, Shocking pink skin glittering like dragon scales, and These creatures of legend would truly be a sight. Too bad we won’t find one, not even at night.” a mouth with lips as black as night itself, “Good morning honey, did -Jared Rubin, ‘12 you sleep well?” It questioned me. I stared back at it with confusion written all over my face. “Don’t worry about the rumbling it’s just the new transport” it spoke. “Where is my mother?” I demanded harshly. “She is perfectly fine and safe,” it attempted to console me, holding up its four fingered hands as a sign of surrender. “She is going through the selection Story by Deanna Bradley, '14 currently but I am positive she will not be chosen” I panicked and started to back away towards the door. “No!” the creature shouts, “You cannot go out there! If you do-” It’s words are suddenly cut short. I quickly dash out of my invaded house and outside see a baffling sight. It is almost as if there are two different universes combined as one. There is a rainbow like strip slowly encompassing all the familiar things I grew up with on earth; the rust encrusted swings that I used to swing on into high tech super power tools from another place that look quite dangerous. All around me I am surrounded by alien people similar to the creature I saw in my kitchen. Suddenly they are all staring at me like they can see through me. “We missed one, we missed one, we missed one,” they all mummer in a monotone unison. I start galloping as fast as I can down the multi-pebbled street doing my best to not so much as to glance behind me and then I am tripping stumbling and finally tumbling to the ground. Then the world goes black. It is December 22nd, 2012. Things that I see before my eyes are unbelievable, but now I remember EVERYTHING. They said the world was going to end on December 21st, 2012 but they were wrong. The world didn’t end it just changed for the worse and now I have conspiracies and I also regretted not launching out the of a plane yesterday when I had the chance. I raced biggest from my room and into the open area of my large headache. and furnished kitchen, where my mother was making breakfast as usual, as if the world wasn’t crashing down around us. Mom, are you crazy? END ? THE We NEED to find safety!”


25 | EQUUS

Cape Cod

SUMMER Summer nights and summer days, Relaxing and laughing, School’s so far away. Not even thinking, About the future or the past. Living for the momentMaking it all last. Airplanes and suitcases, Packed and unpacked again. Foul humid weather,

Spring 2011 | 26

Photo by Michael Field, ‘11

Megan Mileusnic, ‘12 Photo by Jamie Benito, ‘14 These days will not end. Missing and wishing, To see my friends once more. Happy and content, To be with the ones that I adore. Photographs and Polaroid’s, Document my summer with a click. I blinked and it was overWow, that was quick.

in vento scribebat


a Dysch, ‘1

Alex Photo by

land, k c i E e n i K -


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A snowy day in the time, captured by something day my life changed. That day

n y g i s g b e D itin ra a, c t d i r e h n n a rap nd W lex rda 14 A G a ‘ U

country side. Click. A sunset at the beach. Click. Both are memorable snippets in as simple as the click of a button on a camera. The day I got my first camera was the opened the door to my future and my passion: photography.

Photography started as my way to remember and to capture the happy times in life. Then, during my trip to Venezuela in the summer of 2009, everything escalated. My grandma enrolled me in about a dozen different classes. Of course, my favorite ended up being photography, as it was expanding my horizons and my imagination. This class broke through my “self consciousness” and fear of expressing myself in my work. Mentally and artistically, the class helped me grow. Because of photography, I now see the world through totally different eyes. Now, I can see the beauty in a wilting flower or even in a simple cloud. After that summer, at any given opportunity, I took pictures of everything and anything; photography became my emotional outlet, something I loved. To improve my craft, I used various people and objects as models. Friends, when they saw my work, started to ask me to take their pictures. This reinforced my love of photography even more and helped me increase my expertise. During this past summer, I received my first DSLR (Digital Single Lens Reflex), a Nikon D5000 (a camera used mostly by professionals). My hobby became my way of life. Getting my first camera has affected my life in many ways, and I will never stop taking pictures. I find photography beautiful because it captures the simple things in the world and puts them to display. As Elliot Erwitt once said, “To me, photography is an art of observation. It’s about finding something interesting in an ordinary place... I have found it has little to do with the things you see and everything to do with the way you see them.” I feel blessed to have found this love...this passion, and I will continue to pursue this dream.

Spring 2011 | 28

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Undecided. Letting go is burdensome


I keep looking back

Right in front of my eyes.

I must let go when the sunset

The sun sinking behind the hills


Pink taking over the sky blue

I wander through the hills

Tears fill my eyes from the

Hoping to clear my mind


From what I must release

Tears fill my eyes from you.

And wishing to escape time.

Letting go is burdensome

I turn my head

Holding on causes a miserable

Not wishing to view the sky


Then I see the world change

I've decided. I give up.


I won't look back. -Stephanie McFarlane, ‘14

Photo by Miryam Benito, ‘11 written into the wind

29 | EQUUS

In light of all that surrounds mine eye The clock keeps ticking and passing time I glance at the hands, and pray for some peace This test that I’m taking provides no ease

-Alexa Dysch, ‘11

TANDEM e d n Ta

-Blake Meredith, ‘12

-Erika Solloway, ‘11

POEM o P m


But “easy” is the one thing this test seems to lack. Over the weekend, I enjoyed my sleep I went to the movies Then bought some stuff to keep When I got home, I was filled with dread When I realized I should have studied instead


I scan for the questions I hope I might know But none seem to be present, and I whisper, “Oh no!” “Only 40 more questions,” I think with false glee As I fill in the bubbles - what a nice Christmas tree! I get to the essays, and pray for some slack

Ten minutes to go With nothing to show; My heart feels heavy My head feels light My stomach is churning

And I’m frozen with fright

-Jasmine Baxter, ‘11 Soon, there is but one minute remaining, but that last question is, without explaining, confusing to my nervous eyes; An A+ is now nothing but lies. Thirty seconds left, we are allowed to stay, but I will not be getting a good grade today.

-John Rosado, ‘11 Turning the dreadful test in, It deserves to be trashed. The lesson has been taught, If I study, my grades won’t crash.

-Jackie Miller, ‘13 - Photo by Jaime Benito, '14 My life will be hard, my world will be tough I can’t believe it all will end with that bluff, 60 minutes of my life has ended with a plain fail Cause I shall be on the lower end of the A to F scale;

Not studying for a test, is truly a curse. Writing wrong answers, and thinking of a verse. I can hear what they’ll say, “That’s what you deserve!” For not preparing; relaxing is what I preferred.

-Jared Rubin, ‘12

-Adam Lowy, ‘11 Spring 2011 | 30

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Daffodils written into the wind

31 | EQUUS

A Soccer Filled Night

It's nighttime. A soft, cool breeze is blowing gently, as if some greater being is breathing down on everyone present. The ground is saturated from the rain that day, but I don't mind, because I am here to do what I love; play soccer. I love all the different sights, smells, textures, and sounds that come with playing the game. There I am, standing on a large, open field at night, bright lights shining down from all around. The field is an emerald mass, sparkling in the night. It is covered in glittering dewdrops, like diamonds, covering the lush, green grass. When I look towards the stands, I see the crowd looking like an ocean of blue, in their home team colored shirts and jerseys, with their pale faces the foamy whitecaps. Then, there is the night sky itself. Sprinkled with scores of stars, and dominated by a brilliant, full moon that is acting as a spotlight on the theater that is taking place on the field below. It is truly an amazing sight. From where I am standing, I can smell the freshly mowed grass, somewhat bitter, but a sweetsmelling aroma at the same time. Faintly, I also smell the distant fragrance of flame-broiled, juicy burgers and hot dogs being grilled at the concession stand near the field. It is a scent that is hard to ignore, and makes me incredibly hungry. In fact, I can almost taste the burger. Just the thought of the juicy meat, covered in warm ketchup and

Spring 2011 | 32

mustard, and wrapped in a toasted bun, makes my mouth flood with saliva. I go over to the bright orange water cooler, emblazoned with the Gatorade logo, pull a paper cup from the long white tube attached to the container, and fill it with the sparkling, crystal-clear water that glitters in the moonlight. I take a long drink, and feel the cool sensation of the water rushing down my throat, hydrating me. It tastes refreshing, like I am drinking liquid energy, and as I finish it off, I do feel energized. As I walk back onto the field,


I become aware of the myriad of sounds that surrounds me. In the forefront, I hear the roaring of the crowd, with the energy of a full- blown hurricane. The sound helps me appreciate where I am, and know that these people are here to cheer for me and my team. As I continue to walk along, I hear the squelching of the wet mud and grass beneath my cleats, but that is quickly drowned out by a sudden blast from the

-Brendan Haggerty, ‘14 band, who has launched into the playing of our school fight song. For a moment, I am caught up in the absolute magnitude of the scene around me, but then I remember why I am here. I am here to play soccer, my favorite game in the world. As I take my place on the field, I hear the referee's whistle, signaling the start of play. A shrill, piercing sound, it startles me, but fully awakens me for the action to come. During the game, a fierce battle between opposing forces, I am aware of every detail around me. I feel my jersey, wet with sweat and dew, spattered with filthy mud. It's pulling down on me, seemingly making me slower, even though it really isn't. The ball rolls out of bounds, and I sprint to pick it up. I grab it gingerly, gently, savoring the moment. I feel the slick texture of the by Greg Joseph, ‘13 ball, that's also slightly bumpy from the beating it takes from spiked shoes and the hard ground. It's slippery in my hands from the rain, and I almost drop it, almost lose this prized possession. However, I regain control, and I throw it back inbounds, dragging my foot behind me. As I do, I feel the mud beneath me, grudgingly parting to let my cleat slide through. I watch the ball bounce onto the field, and am splattered by the spray that it kicks up..

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Dancing Shows

Photo by Alexa Dysch, '11

-Shannon O'Hanlon, '13 We practice all year round And now the day is finally here The curtains open and there we Our dance recital are One day that many fear Standing on stage frozen in It’s hard to learn so many stance dances Waiting for the music to start, But I find it fun Waiting to dance. It’s nice and cool in the As the music plays auditorium We all dance our best Not like it is under the hot Hoping not to make a blazing sun mistake We all wait back stage This is our big test Stretching as we talk When the song ends Thinking about our dances And we strike our final pose, Hoping no boys will mock The audience cheers If there was a mistake, The lights start to dim nobody here knows And the opening number is about to take place We were all excited yet nervous It could be seen on any dancer’s face

written into the wind

Wow, what a night! We did our best and it showed Our best performance ever Can’t wait till next year’s show. 33 | EQUUS


, nce upon a mid morn weary

Then came my mom gently rapping Rapping at my bedroom door Ah,, distinctly I remember... It was in the bleak December Filled with dread, I didn’t study. Midterms looming in the darkness To pass or fail they whisper Whisper in my ear, ‘Beware all who are unprepared Stuck in tenth year evermore!’

With Apologies

Through sleep-filled eyes ... saw something bleary O’er dry voluminous texts am poring Sciences molecular, historical, so boring, It made me nod to nearly napping. Poe

Dreading, into school I go English class, uh oh, oh no! My heart is beating, Beating, beating, The light from school, ... bright demon eyes Time it is for the tedious testing, Difficult, you must be jesting! Don’t know the answers... My grade shall plummet Quoth my mother, ‘Nevermore’ An ‘A’ student – nevermore!

Poem & Graphic Design by Jackie Miller, '13

Spring 2011 | 34

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Welcome to Tomorrow

[Continued from page 20]

Hope had completely left the box; Hope in both my name and my last tear had vanished back to the origins of its kind. In its place, the demon of tragedy and betrayal was born, Lilith, the demon girl who hunts those who have lost themselves to the darkness of the day and have hidden from the light in the night. A new creature, one that had ascended the boundaries of humanity had taken a new form. I was the creature that would restart the evolutionary process. [Hope’s Last Tear -Zemel, ‘14] [Continued from page 32]

Graphic Design by Jackie Miller, ‘13 The sun has set The moon is revealed Light had faded into darkness Stars have painted the night sky Like comets, lights from airplanes pass by There is a late night storm in existence Getting closer and closer from the distance First a clap Then a zap The sky puts on an artistic performance Lightning crawls and weaves through the black clouds We are its audience and the sky is its crowds The pandemonium ends A peaceful and quiet sky appears Welcome to Tomorrow -Jared Preiser ‘12

written into the wind

Then I rush back to rejoin the battle, so that we might win the war. Ninety minutes later, the conflict is over.They say that you can actually feel and taste victory, and sometimes, on special nights like these, I believe that I really can. It is palpable, just like all the other sensations that I have felt on this night. It can be seen in the brightly lit eyes of my teammates, shining like stars with an even greater intensity than of those in the sky. It can be felt in the air around us, electricity shooting through us; ecstasy. It is as if my comrades and I are wearing our hearts and emotions on our sweat-stained, dirty sleeves that night. For we are battle-weary veterans, looking forward to the dawn of another day, where we can rejoice in our success, and will be able to rest at long last. [ A Soccer Filled Night , - Hag g e r t y, ‘ 1 4 ]

35 | EQUUS

Sponsor List Underwriters Cynthia Smyth Glen Miller Smyth C. Allison Smyth



Alyssa Berman, ‘13

Heather Deitchman

Adam Lowy, ‘11

Geri LoPrimo

Jackie Miller, ‘13

Andrea Spradling M.T.Thompson-Wilkinson

Corporate Sushi Masa

Kogen Constructio0n

Pechter Foundation

Old School Bakery

Thank you -The Equus Staff Once again, we want to acknowledge and send special thanks to everyone who participated and supported our literary magazine. Thanks to our teachers & staff who good naturedly graced our center spread. We also want to thank our corporate sponsors as well as the underwriters and other sponsors whose contributions have made the publication possible... THANK YOU ALL! Additionally, as advisor, I want to personally thank my amazing Equus staff who worked “above and beyond” to give this issue its ‘unique’ look. Special thanks to my two Editors, seniors (we’ll miss them) Alexa Dysch & Adam Lowy... both of whom have been with the magazine since inception (3 years now & counting) and Business Managers, Michael Field (senior) & Jackie Miller (sophomore), who both worked diligently to generate the revenue needed for publication... Thank you all, you make this a great production! mt thompson-wilkinson Spring 2011 | 36

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EQUUS Full page ads $130/(inside cover $200) 1/2 page ads $70/(inside cover $80) 1/4 page ads $45

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*Full page advertisers have names included in Sponsor List add color to your advertisement for $25.00 more

Name on Sponsor List $20.00 For more information and advertising rate specials, please contact the magazine at

SUSHI MASA : YAMA & KANSAI Coupons accepted at any location. *See inside covers for further information

written into the wind

37 | EQUUS




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in vento scribebat

written into the wind

39 | EQUUS

Spring 2011 | 40

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Index of Student Work Baxter, Jasmine (‘11) ..... 30

Fillipone, Noelle (‘14) ..... 11

Miller, Jackie (‘13) ..... 30, 34, 42

Benito, Jaime (‘14) ..... 26, 30

Goldberg, Alisha (‘12) ..... 17

Rosado, John (‘11) ..... 30

Benito, Miryam ('11) ..... 14, 29, 31

Haggerty, Brendan (‘14) ..... 32, 35

Rubin, Jared (‘12) ..... 25, 30

Blanchette, Josiah (‘13) .... 8

Himmelrich, Max (‘14) ..... 13

O'Hanlon, Shannon (‘13) ..... 33

Bradley, Deanna ( 14) ..... 25

Joseph, Greg (‘13) ..... 32

Preiser, Jared (‘12) .... 35

Capizola, Jordan (‘12) ..... 16

Lopez, Yulie (‘13) ..... 12

Shavrick, Max (‘14) ..... 17

Dysch, Alexa (‘11) ..... 4, 27, 30, 33

Lowy, Adam (‘11) ..... covers, 3, 5, 14, 21-24 (center spread), 30

Solloway, Erika (‘11) ..... 15, 16, 30

Dysch, Dani (‘14) ..... 11

McFarlane, Stephanie (‘14) ..... 29

Tharp, Robbie (‘13) ..... 21-24 (center spread)

Meredith, Blake (‘12) ..... 6, 7, 30

Urdaneta, Alexandra (‘14) ..... 28

Feraru, Clara (‘13) ..... 15

Mileusnic, Evan (‘11) ..... 18-19 (featured artist)

Wheeler, Tristan (‘14) ..... 25

Field, Michael (‘11) ..... 26

Mileusnic, Megan ('13) ..... 26

Eickland, Kine (‘13) ..... 27 Estes, Casey (‘14) ..... 9

Zemel, Lauren (‘14) ..... 20, 35

Graphic Design by Jackie Miller, ‘13

Spring 2011| 42

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Equus Spring 2011  

American Heritage Delray: High School Literary and Art Magazine

Equus Spring 2011  

American Heritage Delray: High School Literary and Art Magazine