ISSUE 2
Message from the Editors: In connection with the passing month of February, The Hotchkiss Spectrum decided upon the theme of “love” for our second issue. Who do we love? What is not love? What does love mean to the Hotchkiss community? These are all questions we asked our contributors to reflect upon. Subsequently, this issue is a compilation of the diverse responses we recieved to our prompt. As you will see in this issue, submissions may be made anonymously. If you feel comfortable with personally contacting a specific member(s) of our team, you may submit work to us with a request for anonymity - or - you may anonymously mail a printed copy of your submission to Mariah Bell or Karen Ahn. Additionally, we would like to reiterate that if members of the Hotchkiss community feel compelled to respond to the content of any issue, they are welcome to produce a thoughtful response and submit it to be published in a following issue. Finally, while the overarching theme may change with each issue, Spectrum is always commited to promoting open, thoughtful conversation as well as upholding themes of diversity, equity, and inclusivity. We encourage contributors to use the “I” perspective in their work, and we hope that every member of our community will use Spectrum as an oppurtunity to better understand, communicate with, and respect others. Front Page Art by Sidney Lee Theme Page Art by Mariah Bell Publication Heads Karen Ahn, Mariah Bell, Sherman Cravens, Thunder Keck Managing Editors Karen Ahn, Mariah Bell Design Editor Mariah Bell Special Thanks To Rory Hart, Kathleen Pillsbury, Joe O’Connor
Contents
1
Poetry by Regan McCall
3
Art by Páola Karapátaki
5
The Shapes and Sizes of My Love | Priyanka Kumar
6
Art by Karen Ahn
7
Art by Elysia Li
9
Love | Jeremy Navarro
10
Stories | Anna Connell
11
Writing by Tyler Gardner
12
Dear Love | Suzy Shin
13
Art by Mariah Bell
14
Dear Black People | Daekwon Blair
15
The Shipwrecked Sailor and His Island | Sol Broady
18
Art by Lauren Jin
19
Lovely Memories | Dajung Lim
20
Loving Differently | Anonymous
21
Art by Emma Franklin
23
To My Mother | Sherman Cravens
24
The Memory Center | Sophia de Peña
25
The Tough Truth of Love | Mariah Bell
27
“Love” Survey Responses
The Spectrum of
love
.
Regan McCall
Heart of... She starts with a heart of gold, Pure and innocent, A sight to behold, Her love does not relent. But then the love is lost, Her heart is now glass, Ways to cope, she will exhaust, Forever the pain shall last. The broken pieces will mend, Her heart is now steel, The suffering will soon end, Aided by a protective shield. Protection from love day after day, Steel turned to iron, Weakened with age, For the shield is old and tired. No matter the substance, Gold, glass, steel, iron, Love shall crack the surface, Simple and neat, And the cycle of hearts will repeat.
1 | The Hotchkiss Spectrum
Love Love is an impenetrable fog from the deepest depths of the Earth, Tracking down a new host. Before it reaches your eyes, you hear its call, The whispers of untold stories, of unshared secrets. You sense the unmatchable joy, The inhuman happiness, The complete acceptance of life. As it covers you in it’s blanket, you see the blood red color, With minute flashes of baby doll pink. It is seen and accepted But also feared, For the fog’s depth unknown. Your vision is tainted with red and pink. The longer you remain absorbed, The happier you become. It completes you. Others who have not been entranced by this cloud of smoke Could not possibly understand how the emotions overtake you. Eventually, the fog must go, For it cannot stay forever.
As it slowly fades away, You feel lost, You feel lonely, You feel scared. You may have seen it happen before, The strong turn away from sympathy, The time inside meant nothing. The weak turn away from sanity, Unable to bear the loss, the grief, the pain. The confused turn away from empathy, Unable to feel emotion any longer. You are stricken with grief, You feel empty, but you understand. The fog will find you once again. If you open yourself, it will come once more, If you let it in. Letting the fog Engulf you, Absorb you, Blind you, Once more.
2 | Love
Pรกola Karapataki
THE SHAPES AND SIZES OF MY LOVE
Priyanka Kumar
“Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, and penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope.” - Maya Angelou I love because love is hope, I love so that there is good in the world, I love to get rid of hate. My love is strength. I show love to my family, I show love for those in need, I show love to my enemies. My love is for all. My hugs are my love for you, My smile is my love for you, My tears are my love for you. My love is my character. Love me because I’m different, Love me because I care, Love me for my bright eyes, loud laugh, or dark skin. Love me because I’m human. Life can be scary and unpredictable, Life can be a hard path to walk alone, Life is too short to carry the burden of hate, But love is beautiful, so love while you can. I will try to push out hate, I will try to understand your pain, I will try to stand with you. I will always try to love, but know that I’m not perfect. You can talk, I will listen. That is my love. You can struggle, I will offer my support. That is my love. I will be there when nobody else will, I will be there holding your hand, I will be there even when it hurts. My love is not my weakness. My love is full of hope.
5 | The Hotchkiss Spectrum
Art by Karen Ahn
Art by Elysia Li
8 | Love
love
The greatest issue our generation is faced with is the continuously growing socio-political divide. I fear that the communal unity and understanding we so desperately need has been overlooked, abandoned even, because of the emotion and ire of so many individuals. While circumstances have become tense and the nation’s future may appear to be dreary for many, we, as a community, should be working to unite, learn, and understand the choices of others. Rather, the nation has succumbed to severe emotional backlash that has strained the entire collective network of American friends, family, and citizens. It is for these reasons that I think we need to re-examine a place or foundation for love within our community. Love is necessary for the nation to unite in mutual respect in the face of political tension and social adversity. It bears the potential to unlock understanding between the fragmented political community that represents our nation’s modern era. Love can bring people together in infinite ways. Love can provide a fragmented America with a valuable understanding of why and how our differences exist. It’s the best and only means by which the United States can hope to foster respectful and inclusive discussion, wherein everyone’s voice is both heard and truly appreciated. In this time of political fragmentation, let us learn to love each other – our opponents, our neighbors, our friends, and our adversaries. Although we may confront people who may not display this love or respect for the community, we cannot descend to a level of disrespect. We cannot hope to confront our future as we are, divided and unstable. Love each other, and make our community the one we want it to be.
Jeremy Navarro
9 | The Hotchkiss Spectrum
stories
In 1991, my mom immigrated to America just before the collapse of the Soviet Union to chase the “American Dream.” She didn’t have a purpose but “saw the opportunity and took it.” It’s been 25 years now, and my family visits my grandparents and my mom’s past often. I love how the Venetian canals reflect the colorful buildings with detailed moldings and how the blue sky floods with light until midnight in the summer. I love the ostentatious intricacies inside the many iconic cathedrals and the serene simplicity in the countryside where my grandparents’ dacha is nestled. Contrary to common belief, Russia is not just a freezing Siberia, inhabited only by a few bears and Vladimir Putin, who drinks vodka with every meal. The first few times I heard these statements, I simply laughed at the harmless banter, later rolling my eyes at the subtle ignorance. I am well aware that these jokes have put little detriment on my privileged life, and I cannot begin to compare them to drastic moments of oppression, when social justices and opportunities are abused. But even though the banter seems innocuous and mildly intended, it reflects a subtle shade of closedness in our society. These stereotypes only exist with the foundation of ignorance and misunderstanding, and can only be broken through love and acceptance. We cannot blame or shame someone for not knowing, as this will only divert us from seeking knowledge and hearing each other’s stories. Ignorance, an unblameable yet toxic state, strips individuals of the diverse aspects that form a nuanced and beautiful collage of unique characteristics. There is no better way to break the ignorance and indifference of the world than to listen to people’s stories. Sympathize and don’t try to compare your situation to another; some people say, “It’s okay. I know how you feel,” but, most times, we simply cannot. No matter the continuity of circumstances, colors, or languages, the diversity of every experience is more than even empathy can encompass. Sympathy helps us accept, which helps us love. Although hatred sometimes seems inevitable with the clashing political, social, or religious beliefs of this vast and diverse world, we must never settle for mere tolerance or indifference. We must listen to each other’s stories, and we must hear each other’s stories.
Anna Connell
"Giovanni looked at me. And this look made me feel that no one in my life had ever looked at me directly before." -James Baldwin's Giovanni's Room Perhaps this is what we mean when we speak of love at first sight: being looked at as if we've never truly been seen, and looking as if we've never truly seen. "If pressed to say why I love him, I can say no more than because he was he, and I was I." -Michel de Montaigne's "Of Friendship" And if pressed to say why I love her, I can say no more than because she is she, and I am I. Consider how a simple shift in verb tense serves to remind us of our enduring connections with one another. When we choose only to speak of the past, in a way, we shackle ourselves to a world that is dead and gone; a world to which we can only return through our memory and in our dreams. Perhaps we smile when we go back to the first kiss; perhaps we cry when we acknowledge what led to the last. But in speaking in such a way, we confine ourselves to a mode of thought that seems superficial at best; a mode of thought that resists the urge to accept and embrace a love that can still exist between two people regardless of title, geography, or timing. Put simply: she is still she; and I am still I. So what's not to love? Through his words, Montaigne eternalized his love for his friend; through our hearts, let us choose to do the same for one another. “In the late afternoon, after a day’s march, he would dig his foxhole, wash his hands under a canteen, unwrap the letters, hold them with the tips of his fingers, and spend the last hour of light pretending.” -Tim O’Brien’s The Things They Carried And in the late evening, after a day’s worth of packing and placing his belongings into their respective boxes, he would take a moment to sift through some old love letters, and he would try to decide whether or not he would take them with him when he moved. They had been with him for a long time now, he knew that, and perhaps it was time for him to forgive himself and leave the weight of the letters behind him as he moved forward to the next chapter in his life. But something caught his attention just as he was about to dispose of the letters: the words forever and always begged him to reconsider leaving the letters out of the box. He couldn’t help but notice how many times the words repeated themselves in each and every letter: always…forever…forever…always…always…forever. What did these words mean to him now? What did they mean to her? Both people knowing that the words were lost to a text that would never regain its original context. He tears up a bit. He can’t help but think about what could’ve happened if he had appreciated the gravity of those words just a bit more; he can’t help but think about what those words have meant to different people at different moments in their lives. He thinks back to the first time he read that letter, and he can appreciate that in that moment, always meant always. There was nothing dishonest in the sentiment; those words will always be true; those feelings will always be real. He once meant forever; so did she. But things happen; we all know that. Timing happens; the future happens; people happen. He consoles himself by thinking of all of the lovers, not just his. He thinks about how many times forever will be written in a letter today, and how many times forever will mean nothing more than for a while. He knows how many people will place their hearts at the mercy of the page tonight, trying to convince themselves, and their lovers, that the words are the truth, and the truth is in the words. And finally, he forgives himself because he knows how he felt; he knows how he feels; and he knows that he has nothing but the deepest respect and appreciation for anyone who has ever said the word forever and meant it. So he puts the letter back down, and he stares at it for a moment longer. He knows that he doesn’t need to make this decision tonight, or even tomorrow. Regardless: the weight has been lifted; he will carry the letter with him even when he decides to leave it behind.
Tyler Gardner
11 | The Hotchkiss Spectrum
Dear Love, I heard that you were leaving town for a little while, and I wanted to wish you a farewell just in case I don’t see you for a bit. I’m sad to see you go, and I wanted to thank you for the warmth you gave me. I thought you were going to stick around for longer. I guess you got tired of us turning our backs on you, and decided to take some time off. It’s okay. We all need space every now and then. You needed yours, especially after how poorly we treated you. In four years, when you come visit again, I’ll see how much I missed you, how much I needed you, and how much I took you for granted. I heard that Hate was coming to town. How terrible is it that Hate brings a grey cloud that refuses to stop raining poor decisions and doesn’t understand eloquence or poise. We toss Hate around so lightly and even laugh at it when really, we should be worried about how we’re going to try and win you back, Love. Your scent still lingers, and I haven’t lost sight of the sunshine just yet. That being said, maybe once the trees aren’t green and our oceans aren’t blue anymore, people will realize that you were the one that protected our homes from harm's way. Maybe once females are stripped of the right to choose, people will reconsider what the Constitution means by “people” when establishing civil liberties. Maybe once enough of us shed blood simply because of the color of our skin or the god we choose to worship or the humans we find beautiful, people will finally be able to fathom what an injustice and disservice we have done to ourselves by rejecting everything you taught us through kindness, decency, and respect. I don’t have the patience or tolerance for Hate, who points the finger at someone else like a small child. I don’t need isolation or a wall that Hate glorifies. In fact, I feel less safe when I’m alone, because I am scared that I’ll forget about your warm embrace during Hate’s visit. And frankly, there is no time for disrespectful partisanship, scandals, and cheating, because there are other, more prominent issues than Hate and its complete disregard for empirical data. In a couple of years when we are tired of Hate, I’ll remember to call you up and ask how you are faring on your journey finding your way back to us. I hope that you’ll come home and stay for a while, and that we’ll treat you the way you have always deserved to be treated. I promise I’ll try my best to show others that Hate doesn’t have a place here or -- for that matter -- anywhere else in the universe. I’ll show them through the love that you taught me. Oh Love, you haven’t been away that long, but it already feels like it has been an eternity. Please come back soon. With love,
Suzy Shin “Love seeps in over time, just like hate. I’d gotten so used to the decency of our President [Barack Obama] that I had come to think of decency as a right rather than a privilege.” This piece was inspired by Ann Patchett’s article “The President Who Loved” in TIME magazine’s January 3, 2017 issue.
12 | Love
Art by Mariah Bell
Dear Black People, Let me tell you a thing or two About how great it is to be born looking like me and you This is for those whose skin glistens in the sun and cloaks with the fall of the night sky You’re beautiful! Don’t let anyone say otherwise about your melanin This is for those who feel they don’t have a voice Speak up and let your voice be heard This is for those who understand that we don’t need to flirt with oppression, because we’re already soulmates with it This is for moms who wake up every morning with the fear that the goodbye they give their son on his way out might be the last Worried that they might turn on the TV to find people chanting their child's name, while holding up a piece of cardboard with “Black Lives Matter” plastered on it in sharpie Moms who schedule in “the talk” with their sons the day they’re old enough to go out alone Not the, “wear a condom ‘cause I don’t wanna be a young grandparent,” talk But another one that comes first: Be polite, don’t talk back, take your hands out of your pockets and don’t run, because they will shoot you first and ask questions later Just ask the loved ones of our fallen brothers and sisters: STERLING MARTIN BROWN GARNER ANDERSON BLAND Unfortunately the lists goes on and on This is for those who have the courage to stand up and speak out on what’s wrong We will get our point across one way or another! Small ignorant efforts against our fight (like a blue Post-It reading “blue lives matter”) are minuscule in comparison to our efforts To the athletes, Don’t let them presume that the only way we can be at a place like Hotchkiss because we play sports and not due to our intelligence “You go to Hotchkiss? Oh you must have only gotten in because you’re an athlete… what sport do you play?” Our skin does not define our minds This is to those who feel the need to take a stand, Even if that means kneeling during an anthem that still
displays traces of --call it what ever else you will, but-racism “Oh say can you see, by the dawn’s early light,” hmmmm... Look at people like Colin Kaepernick, Tommie Smith, John Carlos, and Kelsey Bone Action speaks louder than words and our actions need to reflect the message we hope to deliver This is for the kids who grew up without seeing anyone who looked like them on the TV The kids who never had a crayon to match their complexion Change is upon us Now BET ain’t the only spot where we can find a brotha’ or sista’ on the screen We even had a brotha’ chilling up in that White House on Capitol Hill for the past two terms Don’t ever say anything is impossible If you dream it, you can get it Go out and get what you desire, regardless of how light or dark you are This is for those with the curls, kinks, naps, and braids You’re truly beautiful! “Your hair’s soo curly, OMG how did you get it like this?” Umm… water… Don’t get it twisted Braids, weaves, and natural styles are all beautiful Be proud of who you are whether God blessed you with kinky curls, knotted knaps, or puffy fros’ Now listen real close ‘cause I’m ‘bout to spit some real truth. Here’s the poetry in our faulted system: We’ll always have a bullseye on our backs We’ll always have something extra to prove Why? Because we’re black, and all the odds are stacked against us They don’t want us to succeed nor do they think we can, But we have to! To prove that we are just as good as them In case some of y'all are sitting slouched in your seats, uncomfortable right now DON’T BE This isn’t an anti-white piece, it’s just a pro-black one What you don’t get is that pro-black, ain’t anti-white Love the skin you’re in, darkskin, lightskin, and all shades in between Black Will Always Be Beautiful Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.
Daekwon Blair
The Shipwrecked Sailor and His Island Sol Brady Walking once, along the shore, I spied a broken man, Wood had pierced his pounding chest, blood lay betwixt the sand. Tenderly I cradled him, and there in the water's wake, He grabbed my arm, knowingly, and imparted his mistake: "Marooned I’ve been for countless days, upon this wretched isle. Though thrice I sought escape from these chains, thrice was I beguiled. Countless tenants roam this sun-scorched place, yet we are all alone, Standing, hopeful, at the coast, for the chance at passage home. One day a lovely barge came forth, above the seagulls sang, Announcing this princess’ approach to the island’s forlorn gang. The men ‘round me bombarded her with attention-seeking cries, Her polished hull and pearly sails a welcome sight for sorest eyes. Infatuated by her glamour, I wasted no time with words. Enchanted by her splendor, my thought was only forwards. I leapt into the water, and like a man possessed, Swam frenziedly through the blue to reach that gilded mast. Impressed by my conviction, she did little to protest, While landlocked men cursed after me, the man who had been blessed. Yet while I stayed for many days, the barge did only drift. She moved not towards any home; beauty was her lonesome gift. Content with roaming up and down, to the shallows would she keep, While I yearned for something lasting, somewhere far across the deep, She was suited for calm waters—rough waves exposed her leaks, Her décor skillfully concealing a foundation which was weak, And so, Disappointedly I bid farewell—my heart required more. Though terrified of the island’s grasp, I swam back to the shore. My neighbors demanded explanation: how could I relinquish one so sweet? I replied: that ship was just as locked in place as the ground beneath our feet.
15 | The Hotchkiss Spectrum
So patiently I waited, determined to be wise. Not again would a vessel fool me with a superficial guise. Before long a galley lurched into view, her sail ragged black. I, alone, ventured forth, yet even so she wheeled back. I discovered that my boyish boldness to her would not prevail; I must be a steady and supportive hand; her self-esteem was frail. She preferred to talk when the sun went down, and so along the beach, I confided with her in the dead of night; her walls I sought to breach. Her vulnerability more than anything is what made my heart beat; Her trust was an accomplishment; I obsessed over the feat, She came close enough to board at last, ‘O it had been some wait! I sensed her trepidation; her boards creaked beneath my weight. I stroked her beams reassuringly; after all, we’d come this far. In her world of constant darkness, I vowed to be her star. But when I slept each night, as men must do, and my attention to her stalled, Insecurity overwhelmed her mind; she wondered if I cared at all! One such night as distrust seized her, as she felt so alone, She heaved and turned, quite violently, till I was overthrown! And so, Disappointedly I bid farewell—my heart required more. Though terrified of the island’s grasp, I swam back to the shore. My neighbors demanded explanation: was that gloomy ship worth all the time? I replied: she is a mountain of potential, but no man can make that climb. So patiently I waited, determined to find light where she was dark; Somewhere out there, just for me, there sailed a special ark! Eventually a galley caught my eye, at once I knew her as unique. She glided deftly with the wind, declaring: I’m the one you seek. She flew with captivating confidence; there was such purpose in her strides, Her movements seemed to broadcast power; her sails seemed to swell with pride,
16 | Love
Walking into the shallows, I allowed myself a smile; She had been sent, after so long, as reward for all my trials! I could scarcely wait as she came to me, so fervently I burned. I thanked the sky above me that to this island I returned! And as she neared closer now, I spread my arms in an embrace. I dreamed about our home together, that twice elusive place! Soon she was mere meters out, but why did she not halt? My smile broadened now, her eagerness for me was not a fault! I pinched myself, reassuringly, to verify my luck; My body crunched, not from the pinch, but where the ship had struck. Underneath her prow, above the waves, her wood barreled into me; She cracked my ribs and dashed my dreams as I screamed out desperately: ‘Love, halt your oars and turn your sails, this is the wrong path that you pursue, Our home lies not on this damn isle, but far across the ocean blue!’ Yet forth she went, heedless of my cries, until she reached the place she sought, I clawed at the wood impaling me, but to my pain she gave no thought, I realized as she ran aground, I was not destined in her plans. Between my broken breathing, I heard the steps of another man. He leapt on board, smiling, just as I had been, Rejoicing for that journey home which they would soon begin. Fulfilled she readied to depart, but I could not release, Myself meekly to such loneliness; I tore away this piece. This bit of wood she pierced me with, this part of her you see, Is reminder of the love I lost; her haunting memory”, With that the shipwrecked sailor said “let me lay now on this ground, On the dunes of this desolate island, on the sand to which I’m bound. Whoever said ‘better to have loved and lost, than never loved at all’, Was never truly on this island, was never imprisoned by its walls.” I wept for the forlorn sailor, was his melancholy to be mine? Gazing out across the deep, I pondered fate’s design. I inspected myself closely now, there were not yet splinters in my hand, And aspiring for a better future, I took my place there in the sand.
17 | The Hotchkiss Spectrum
Art by Lauren Jin
Lovely Memories Dajung Lim
“Love is love is love is love…” - Lin Manuel Miranda Love always came to me in so many different faces, different colors, different shapes. When I was little, my mom would take me for walks outside our house. I would hold my mom’s hand everywhere we went, and we would call those walks our “dates.” As I got older, the walks with my mom grew longer and longer. I would ask her a million questions: about school, about my future, about everything that was on my mind. Having those conversations, having that time with her, I felt more and more loved. My dad smokes a lot. But whenever I told him how bad it is, he would show me that he cares about my opinion by instantly throwing out the cigarette. I would feel proud and loved. I have never fought with my sister before. She is five years older than me, and has been through almost the exact same path in life as mine, so I trust her. I laugh at and with her, cry in front of her, travel with her, talk with her for hours and hours, and learn from her. I give and receive love at the same time. Being the youngest in the family, I was never used to sacrificing for my family or friends, at least until my 8th grade year. It was the final dance of middle school, and I was ready to make the most out of it. Right before the dance, my friend called me, crying in her room. It took a few moments, but I got away from the dance floor and ran to her room. We both sat on her bed, and she stopped crying by the end of that night. The dance would not be worth leaving her alone, I thought. This was one of the first times I learned how to
19 | The Hotchkiss Spectrum
care and love. I never thought I’d be friends with him, let alone like him. But we always stayed after school for little talks, with my friends quietly chanting, “Date! Date!” and teasing us; those never felt so bad after all, I felt loved anyways. Love was always there, warm and bright; I couldn’t imagine it to be anything else. When I started paying more attention to the news, I would see things in the world that I’d never seen before. One day, a small corner of the newspaper showed an article of a parent sending their child away to “pray away the gay” camp. I didn’t know what it was, but neither the child nor the parent in the photo looked happy. Later, I learned more about the “camp” in the newspaper. Would they ever feel loved? After becoming a high school student, I began to understand what it means to love the world around me: loving the society, the people, and their differences as well. I spend most of my nights attending clubs of all different sorts, and I learn about love. One Friday morning, I felt strange coming into the dining hall for breakfast. I saw a row of tables put together, people dressed in black, and I heard them whispering. Tulsa, shooting, posters? After reading the New York Times, I wrote to my teacher that I wouldn’t be able to come to class. That day, I heard stories and crying from people who I always saw smiling. How could they ever feel loved? Love is love. That is all that takes to understand.
Loving Differently Anonymous
--Growing up, they always said girls like me wouldn’t ever be loved by boys like them - that I was different. I dressed differently, walked differently, spoke differently; I was always different. I knew deep in my heart that I would love differently.
But that wasn’t and isn’t a bad thing.
We met working at a summer camp. Our parents had forced us to enroll, in order to “keep us out of trouble”. I was very drawn to her at first because of her confident speaking and the dazzling smile that few have ever witnessed. Day after day, we would read princess stories to the girls during their lunch periods and finish up the day cleaning the cafeteria. We bonded over stories about damsels in distress and our hatred of washing dishes. We soon became inseparable. One day, as I was wrapping up another “happily ever after”, a girl asked me if it was possible for her to live happily ever after with another girl. Immediately, the rest of the children began jeering and laughing at the girl. I looked over at my partner, holding back my tears. She marched over from the swingset and grabbed my hand, saying, “If I love Siobhan and she loves me back, then yes! We can live happily ever after.” She tugged the girl up from her seat and embraced her, shooting a reassuring smile at me. My heart quickly swelled as I watched her consol the innocent camper. It was then when I realized she was even more special than she had originally seemed. Shortly after, we began dating. The joy I felt from being with her every day and the intensity of our relationship created a certain high. Our co-workers would continually whisper nasty comments about how they thought we were a “summer fling” and that we were “angry teenagers rebelling against our parents”. Nevertheless, she would just chuckle and shrug her shoulders, saying that they simply did not understand love. It has now been nine months, but it still feels so special, so beautifully different. I love how she grasps my hand, running her fingers over my chipped nail polish; I love how she plays with my hair, slipping rebellious strands behind my ears; I love how she holds me tight in her arms and everything around us disappears for too quick of a moment. Dear World, I do love her and she definitely loves me back. We can live happily ever after, and we will do just that.
20 | Love
21 | The Hotchkiss Spectrum
Art by Emma Franklin
To My Mother Sherman Cravens To the woman who used to be my mother: Hello. I use past tense, because you used to hold significance for me just like you used to hold a place in my memory and heart, but the more I mature, the more forgetful I become. I never knew your name; hell, I never knew your touch. I don’t have any physical representations of you: no pictures, videos, nothing. You never left me with shit either. Not my name, not the beautiful singing voice I’ve been told you possessed, and -- to my knowledge -- none of your good looks, because in my eyes I’m the ugliest motherfucka in the world. To the woman who used to be my mother: Do you know why I think I’m ugly? I’m ugly because you birthed a person who hates himself, a person who can’t stand to look at himself in the mirror everyday, a person who is scared of betrayal and abandonment... a person like me. I am empty, or that’s how I feel. I feel coldness in my heart every day. Every time I try to warm it up, the pain of your absence is so great, it feels as if you were grabbing my heart and pressing out all the happiness and love I have come to acquire. I look for love from people who are takers not givers, I feel inclined to be devoted to anything or anyone that shows me affection. Yes, woman who used to be my mother, you fucked up me up so bad that, because of this disposition, I now have a bad rap. I am the “fuckboi” and the “man whore” when in reality all I am searching for is love and affection. Why am I self destructive like you? I think it is because of you. You were supposed to shower me with love, with support, with advice. Where the fuck were you? Where were you when I hid my feelings of loneliness and furthered my journey into the emptiness that engulfs me? Where were you to shower me with support and advice to get rid of the bullies who called me ugly, different, and stupid? Lastly, where were you to stop me from believing them? To the woman who used to be my mother, it might be hard to believe, but - despite all this - you haven’t lost my love despite all the anger and resentment I feel towards you. However, your ways of self-destruction are leading towards mine. Everything now seems minor compared to the one question I have for you: Did you ever love me?
23 | The Hotchkiss Spectrum
Strong beams of warmth poured onto an elderly man’s countenance. The light of the room’s single window had awoken him, its rectangular frame almost big enough for him to escape and fly away. The walls were the blue, cloudless skies of seemingly endless summers. The crisp white sheets cascading over his long limbs were the Siberian hills of his youth, covered in fresh snow. A small device lay at his side with numerous buttons sprinkled like small gumdrops coated in sugar. In the far corner, a lone chair waited for someone to claim its quilted navy cushions. The old man turned his gaze to the right, where a big brown bear with emotionless, coal black eyes sat on a creaky table. He was dressed as a fisherman and equipped with a glimmering trout strung onto a small, wooden pole. The window’s dewy light reflected off the fish’s rainbow scales and created a waterfall of color on the old man’s face. A small smile appeared on his lips, as he reached for his new companion. He hugged it close to his chest, looking up to see an unknown face. A girl peered through a doorway at the old man. His thick hair was as white as the sheets on the bed and reminded her of smooth vanilla icing on a birthday cake. His wrinkled skin was like the rough hide of elephants marching through the vast wilderness, while his twinkling eyes were icy comets hurtling across the night sky. The walls seemed like a blank canvas, dull in comparison. The girl longed to see his blinding smile, a remnant of time when they’d fish all day and caught fireflies in the golden dusk. As her mother grabbed her arm lightly, beckoning her away from the room, the girl’s eyes darted frantically to get his attention. As if on command, the old man lifted his gaze from the bear to meet hers, but they held no recognition. He looked at her with childlike curiosity, gracing her with a wave and the magnificent smile she so desperately longed for. However, she did not smile back. She knew the smile was not truly for her, and a tear rolled down her flushed cheeks. The bear she had gifted him months before leaned softly in the elder’s strong arms, a reminder of lost memories.
Sophia dePeña
The Memory Center
24 | Love
The Tough Truth of Love Mariah Bell Love is not blameless. Since almost the beginning of time (or at least since the beginning of film production), stories, movies, television, and many other media outlets have spread this idea that the person you truly love will be someone who you are unable to recognize fault in. This is not true. Or, at least, it hasn’t been true in my life. Personally, I find that blamelessness equals indifference, and indifference represents a lack of love, not an abundance of it. In fact, the people whose faults I care the most about happen to the the people whom I love the most. It is not at all “loving” to ignore someone’s shortcomings; instead, if you love someone, you should learn to understand and deal with their issues. Despite what rom-coms might tell you, in real life, love is always a sticky, confusing, complicated thing that requires a great deal of understanding and acceptance. If you truly love people, you will find yourself upset with them at times. Furthermore, when you do find yourself upset, you should care enough about the people you love to help them grow. I have seen this problem many times here at Hotchkiss. Of course, things get more confusing when speaking on behalf of a community, but I will do my best to explain. Even though you may not love every single individual person at Hotchkiss, we should all be doing our best to at least love our community. If we all put forth an effort to love our community, I believe we will all be able to accomplish some sort of understanding for the people we share this school with. Furthermore, because I love this community, I am unable to remain impartial when someone does something that hurts me or the people around me. A lot of the time I hear people say, “We can’t judge them because they did ___,” and statements like these confuse me greatly. Because, I mean… can’t we? In fact, aren’t the actions of those around us supposed to help us understand and judge other people? Furthermore, judgment tends to carry a negative connotation, but I would like to clarify the term “judge” to mean “to form an opinion about through careful weighing of evidence and testing of premises” as defined by Merriam-Webster, meaning that -- through judgment -- one is able to come to a fair conclusion about someone else given evidence. Judging people is exactly what we can and should be doing as humans who live and interact with each other. If you don’t judge someone -- if 25 | The Hotchkiss Spectrum
you don’t gauge how you feel about their actions -- how can you truly come to love them? Instead, what we can’t do is dismiss others. We can’t use our judgments as an excuse to be cruel to others, we can’t use someone else’s judgments as a basis for how we treat people we don’t even know. We can’t unfairly persecute people for their actions or mistakes. We can’t use our judgment of one person or group of people and apply it to how we treat other individuals. Those are not acts of love, those are acts of indifference. Also, before anyone tries to use what I’m saying as an excuse or justification for the concepts of racism, sexism, homophobia, etc., let me stop you there. Racism is not the same as judgment. Homophobia is not the same as judgment. In fact, prejudices represent a distinct lack of judgment, a lack of love. When someone relies on a stereotype or preconceived notion about another person’s identity, they are not promoting a fair relationship based on who the other person really is, how they actually behave, or interactions that they’ve personally had with them. Being prejudiced shows an absence of respect for others (or other groups), an absence of the respect which is necessary to make a fair judgment about individuals. I love Hotchkiss. I love this community, and therefor I am always judging it. That’s not “complaining.” That’s not “making trouble” or over-exaggerating. That’s my privilege as a member of this community. That’s what anyone who actually loves this place should be doing. No matter how great this school can be, it’s not perfect. And though Hotchkiss can’t be “perfect” for everyone, we should always want to help our community grow and evolve. It is unfair and incorrect to say “If you don’t like something about Hotchkiss, just leave.” Since when are we all supposed to just accept the things that bother us or give up? Since when is it best to just carry on like sheep, never speaking out, expressing zero love or care for our school? One of the basic lessons we learn -- even as children -- is that when something or someone upsets us, we should speak up. Not only is this a necessary part of loving yourself, it means you care enough about others to correct them when they are in the wrong. So no, love is not blameless. Hotchkiss is not blameless. No one -- community, no person -- truly is, so I won't stop speaking out. I won't stop critiquing, or loving, or helping my community.
26 | Love
Caring for others - Anon, Freshman
Love has no limit, it is pure, compassionate, constant and ever reaching. - Alice Sarkissian-Wolf
Baby don’t hurt me - Almost everyone who filled out the survey
Happiness. - Aba Sam
Chris Theo - Anonymous
The feeling of seeing the world in a new way caused by another person. - Regan McCall
Love is the ability to see that there is “God in every man” (Quaker belief). This leads to respect for all and the ability to reach out, even to those who dislike or oppose us. (It’s also a state of delirium that makes life wonderful.) - Anon, Teacher
Judgment free - Anon, Junior
What Is Love?
Love is that warm feeling when you know you’re special in the eyes of someone else and without that person you wouldn’t be happy. - Anon, Senior
Love is happiness. Love is joy. Love is pride. Love is belonging. Love is accepting. Love is laughter. Love is passionate. Love is impartial. Love is genuine. Love is family. Love is unique. Love is shared with an individual or with multiple individuals. - Daekwon Blair
Mutual understanding, respect and support; allowing the other person to be who they are, their best selves - Anon, Staff
Mutual acceptance of one another and appreciation of emotional bonds - Canning Malkin
Love is compassion - when you truly recognize that every other being with feelings wants happiness and wishes to avoid suffering, just as you do. - Ms. Wynn
Love is sticking up for someone no matter the circumstances, it is unconditional, it is sacrifice, it is gives you the feeling that no matter what you are never alone, and most importantly it’s a beautiful element of our lives that we should share with one another - Anon, Freshman
When you are willing to put someone else’s interest above your own unconditionally. - “Benedict Cumberbatch”, Senior
Love is a choice people make to express unconditional caring for one another. - James Herring
27 | The Hotchkiss Spectrum
It’s an invention of society. - Anon, Sophmore
When you find someone worth suffering for and can’t be without. - Georgii Gleesh
Mean-spirited acts and thoughts - Anon, Teacher
Love is not something that goes on and off, and it is not a one-time thing. “Hooking up” once does not equal true love, and neither does a one-time fling. Love is a commitment and a connection that is developed over time. - “Bea”, Sophmore
Superficiality - Anon, Junior
Disrespect and dishonesty - Anon, Freshman
What Is Not Love? When a person makes me anxious, makes me feel like I’m walking on eggshells, makes me change in ways that aren’t authentic to me, any form of emotional or physical abuse. - Anon, Staff
Thomas Ruggles Pynchon
They inspire me!
A temporary and superficial attraction; an exaggerated self-regard. - Anon, Staff
Love is not selfish, love does not crumble in the wake of a storm - Anon, Freshman
Acting intentionally in a way that will harm others - Ian Duncan
Admirable, passionate, imperfect
Disconnection; egotism - Anon, Teacher
Discrimination, lack of compassion for partner or the disadvantaged class, unkindness, control, lack of attention. - Anon, Teacher
Smart, funny, beautiful
Honest, funny, adventurous
Wild, annoying, generous
Makes me smile
Describe Someone You Love In 3 Words
Unconditional, bold, empathetic
I hear all the time, “the opposite of love’s indifference.” But honestly, at this point in time, it is plenty accurate to say that the opposite of love is hate. Or maybe lack of empathy... not even trying to understand what connects us to our brothers and sisters. - Anon, Junior
Affectionate, passionate, supportive
Fluffy, feline, purr
Alway there, helpful
Loyal, trustworthy, supportive
Caring, genuine, altruistic
28 | Love
I love the education I am receiving here at Hotchkiss, for the education here is many times better than that of my previous school. Also, I love the very unique community that Hotchkiss has. - Anon, Freshman
The relationships you build with not just students but teachers as well - Canning Malkin
The people - Emma Swenson
The people. I genuinely enjoy seeing everyone when I get here in the morning. - Anon, Staff
Teaching students - Alice Sarkissian-Wolf
Community, learning, diversity of perspective - Anon, Teacher
Community life - Anon, Freshman
Friends, views, bonding time with my 20 “brothers” - Anon, Senior
What Do You Love About Hotchkiss?
This is a poem about a one-sided relationship: Beyond the window you lie, waiting for me Always still and willing for my eyes to see I thought of our future; it leads to my pain Yet still I can’t fight the need to see you again I saw you, housing the desires of another I was forbid to see you, by the will of my mother I cried to you, in greasy palms from which I slipped I laughed with you, with puns glory equipped I wondered if only money would keep you near I knew it wasn’t more, and that’s why I fear You don’t care, but you’ll still stay stocked with my want With sweetness like cookies, so openly taunt My extravagance, my attempts to keep you by my side Oh Snack Bar, in your arms I will die - Hannah Lothian
Hotchkiss’ desire to grow and always be better -- Hotchkiss constantly aims to be all things to all types of people, seeking to answer their pronounced needs, and taking a fair bit of criticism (because it’s not possible to be all things to all people!!) - Anon, Teacher 29 | The Hotchkiss Spectrum
I love living with my friends and I love all of the opportunities - Anon, Freshman
The beauty of the place - Ms. Wynn
Being with so many different people from different places and backgrounds. - Anon, Staff
I would say that it is mostly the people here that I love. I feel as if I have known some of my friends for way longer than I actually have because some people are so genuine. I just love hanging out with my friends and doing fun stuff. - Anon, Junior
Snack bar - Anon, Senior
The community - Alyssa Iferenta
If I had to pick one thing I love about Hotchkiss, it would be the communal atmosphere, which embodies this place we all call home. I’ve repeated this phrase a couple times over the year but we really are just one big happy dysfunctional family here at Hotchkiss. - Daekwon Blair
One definition of love is respect. In order to show love to the black community, one must respect black history and culture. - Anon, Junior
I think that as a people we need to love each other regardless of race, religion, or sex - Anon, Freshman
The key to the civil rights movement is not merely equality. It is unconditional love between all people, no matter their race. That goes for whites to blacks, blacks to whites, blacks to arabs, arabs to asians, asians to whites, etc. It’s not just acceptance, it’s a deep desire to care for all people. - James Herring
February is also Black History Month; how does the theme of Love connect with Black History and Civil Rights?
Civil rights are human rights. I hope that we as a society can be open and willing to have meaningful conversations about the ugliness of the past. As a white person, I hope to see more of us willing to stop and think about white privilege, that it is real, and that acknowledging it is important to understanding current tensions and finding real solutions. I know that this idea is very uncomfortable for some people and they would rather condemn the term rather than own it. However, I want to be part of the solution, not the problem. - Anon, Staff
Love is not something you just have, love is something that takes time and work, it is something that we should all strive to spread throughout our community because love makes every person feel accepted and happy inside and out. - Anon, Freshman
There are a bunch of different loves. Love that fades, love that withstands decades, love of friends, love of a soulmate, love that a chick gives to a mama bird, love of material goods. I love cheese and money. - Anon, Senior
Black Lives Matter is an assertion of love - Anon, Teacher
It reminds me that despite all the bad things that go along with it, there are good things about being black. - Anon, Junior
In the words of Dr. King “Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that.” - Anon, Junior
Be patient with other people. - Anon, Junior
I love my girlfriend. - Anon, Senior
Anything Else? Love is Love. The hearts in Main Hallway are peaceful - I hope all members of our school appreciate the idea and the follow through. - Anon, Teacher
When we’re afraid, we don’t want to share; we believe that society is a zero-sum game that if we give others rights, we will lose. Love casts out fear. - Ms. Wynn
I just wonder why some people in this country are so afraid of love, and are more inclined to hate. Love is scary and it requires you to be vulnerable, but it is so much better than having a heart full of fear and hate. - Anon, Staff
30 | Love
The Spectrum of
love
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