2013 Reflections Literary Magazine

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Gulliver Preparatory School 6575 North Kendall Drive Miami, FL 33156 305-666-7937 www.gulliverschools.org

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Table

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Contents

Poetry 5 6 9 10 12 16 18 23 24 27 31 32 35 37 38 40 42 44 46 48 51

“As You Walked Away,” Daniel Paez, Grade 12 “Losing Control,” Megan Stoyanovich, Grade 9 “Forgotten Toy,” Carolina De Paoli, Grade 12 “Empty Shells,” Carolina De Paoli, Grade 12 “The Future,” Lauren Schrager, Grade 12 “Leap of Faith,” Stephanie Rubin, Grade 12 “The Brook,” Madeline Benn, Grade 12 “Beautiful Bones,” Madeleine Harris, Grade 10 “Life is a Blur,” Gabriel Magalhaes, Grade 12 “The Colors Within,” Jessica Rolnick, Grade 9 “Shanti Town,” Gabriella Sharp, Grade 10 “Time vs. Life,” Jonathan Leeds, Grade 12 “Dreaming,” Amber Calzadilla, Grade 12 “Me?” Carolina Gomez, Grade 9 “A Glance,” Cristina Valencia, Grade 12 “The Veil,” Matthew Elgart, Grade 12 “Detroit,” Aaron Quint, Grade 12 “Boys of War,” Madeline Benn “Treasures Within Me,” Sarah Hernandez, Grade 9 “I,” Alina Anderson, Grade 12 “II,” Alina Anderson, Grade 12

Photography 1 20 42 2

“The Opposite Spectrum,” Valeria Orozco, Grade 12 “Rainbow Bridge,” Alanis Kupatt, Grade 9 “The Way I Feel,” Valeria Orozco, Grade 12

Original Artwork Cover 4 7 8 10 13 14 16 22 25 26 28 30 32 34 36 39 41 47 49 50 52

“One Fish, Two Fish, Three Fish,” Savannah Vieth, Grade 12 “Julia,” Paola Martinez, Grade 12 “Expectations,” Jasmine Johnson, Grade 12 “Stained,” Ilana Lowenstein, Grade 12 “Peaceful Invasion,” Valeria Orozco, Grade 12 “Ambition,” Valeria Orozco, Grade 12 “Why Are You So Blue?” Paola Martinez, Grade 12 “Me!” Tiffany Hequin, Grade 12 “Recovery,” Paola Martinez, Grade 12 “Crystal Gulp,” Detail, Valeria Orozco, Grade 12 “Chromatic Ego,” Valeria Orozco, Grade 12 “Street 666,” Denise Campbell, Grade 12 “Blown Away,” Tanya Salami, Grade 12 “Sunrise,” Nikita Kulkarni, Grade 12 “Childhood,” Tanya Salami, Grade 12 “Three Sides,” Renee Die-Girbau, Grade 12 “Mirada Enigmatica,” Carolina Illera, Grade 12 “Breeze,” Rachel Franklin, Grade 11 “Squished to Remember,” Tanya Salami, Grade 12 “Chaos,” Adrienne Cassel, Grade 12 “Botanical Garden,” Valentina Wakeman, Grade 9 “I Remember That Afternoon,” Mollie Dixie Beek, Grade 12

Digitally Manipulated Photography 18 34

“Washed Out Memories,” Ilana Lowenstein, Grade 12 “Childhood,” Tanya Salami, Grade 12

Digital Media 45

“Self-Portrait,” Adrienne Cassel, Grade 12

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“Ivan’s Lesson,” Rosaline Van der Weerden, Grade 12 “Bonjour America,” Theo Dartois, Grade 12 “A Beautiful Sadness,” Asher Zundel, Grade 12

Prose

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Paola Martinez

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Lauren

As You

Walked Away

By Daniel Paez

As you walked away, Your hair moved across your back

from side to side, Your hips swayed like a pendulum.

They reminded me of the day I first saw you.

You were beautiful and still are.

As you walked away, I longed for your touch, Your arms wrapped around my waist.

Your lips interlocked with mine.

Our bodies pressed against each other.

As you walked away, I remembered your laugh, The way you would crinkle your nose.

I remembered your smile, How it would make me smile.

As you walked away, I realized how much I need you.

And how much you don’t need me.

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Sometimes Life goes by too fast You have to pause and notice To see the people around you Sometimes Life speeds by, you ignore The people that mean the most, Everyone is just a blank face No emotions, only blurs speeding by Sometimes They aren’t speeding by You are the only one You are the blank face Life goes by too fast to appreciate Those who matter the most...

Losing

Control...

By Megan Stoyanovich

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Jasmine Johnson

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Ilana Lowenstein

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Forgotten Toy

By Carolina De Paoli

Waking up in the sun’s rising flames, Body bare, I pick up fabric around the floor.

Sighs, I am getting sick of these games.

Aches are no longer worth this bore.

Door locked, I toss the key outside, It lands in some plant? I don’t know.

I try not to remember where he resides, But my reappearance makes memory grow.

In the evening, my fingers click on the keys.

Another rose is placed in front of me.

Rolling eyes, my mind cries pleas.

My only desire is the gift of his body.

He speaks of jewelry and tomorrow.

Yet, I still fear of meals for tonight.

I hope his eyes open in sorrow.

When this toy flees in nostalgic delight.

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Empty Shells Valeria Orozco

By Carolina De Paoli

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Feet dragged in a monotonous flow.

The Earth pulls me slightly down below.

Destination unknown and journey prolonging, Continuing only for the sake of continuing.

A wildcat jumps from the bushels and weeds.

Glances at me, then pounces on a flock and feeds.

To the left, a meadow, with unpredictable dangers.

To the right, the sea, adventure to all strangers.

In drowning we lose happiness and strife.

The mystery of the deep is simply a second life.

As energy leaves the casket it has taken, It slips into the egg of a clown fish now awaken.

From shell to shell, our souls do jump.

Each remembered as much as the rest of the clump.

Well if a termite is the same as a fisher, Why not change shells now to that of another?

More than knowledge, or joy, or ecstasy, The thing that holds me is simple curiosity.

Will I be a remembered? Will I find a lover?

Let me play Life until this body hits Game Over.

Nelson

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The Future

By Lauren Schrager

In the future I see Endless possibilities.

Creating a new identity, Being whoever you want to be.

Remember when we were young and we Wanted to be astronauts, fire fighters, teachers of P.E.?

We all knew what we wanted to be With such certainty.

Now when asked, it’s a little more important Four years and our future’s supposed to be in focus?

I don’t know what I want to be, So stop asking me.

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Valeria Orozco

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Ivan’s Lesson Paola Martinez

By Rosaline Van der Weerden

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If I had to state one thing that I have learned during my eighteen years of existence, it really would have to be that any event, big or small, has the potential to significantly impact the rest of one’s life. Yes, that statement would probably sound very obvious, but a person doesn’t truly realize it until it is experienced first-hand. If only low atmospheric pressure, warm water vapor, and strong winds had not happened to combine off the coast of Cape Verde in the fall of 2004, then category-5 Hurricane Ivan would have never been born; if Ivan had never been born, then Grand Cayman would have never been struck, devastating my home and forcing my family and me to move to Miami and start a new life. This was the domino effect of events that caused a circumnavigation in the path of my life.

It took Hurricane Ivan just eight hours to change my life forever.

I was pulled out of school and sent with my family to a shelter where Spam and generator-powered movies were my sole consolations for three days. After the worst of the hurricane passed, my family and I returned to an unrecognizable home on an unrecognizable island; everything was in shambles. It did not take long for my father to decide that a move to Miami would be best.

Ironically, the actual move was more traumatic for me than the hurricane itself. I was never able to bid adieu to all my friends and my island life; I simply found myself the next day in a new city so much larger and more intimidating than the calm island I had known.

As a 10-year-old girl, to be wrenched out of her comfort zone without preparation and be forced to adapt to a new life was anything but a cakewalk. My life in Cayman had been like a bubble: a perfect little school and group of friends, and weekends spent swimming and playing on the beach on an isolated paradise in the Caribbean. But Ivan shook me into reality, teaching me a valuable lesson—that “perfect” does not exist and a complete deviation in your life can occur at any moment.

Ivan taught my family and me to shrug off material attachments and learn to live in congruence with the unexpectedness of life. In the end, only the abstract holds true permanency—love, the bond of a family, the resilience of one’s character. As for the tangible, we must simply appreciate it while we have it, while never forgetting its ephemerality.

In less than a year, my life will undergo yet another transformation as I go to college. Keeping Ivan’s lesson in mind, I will strive to make the best out of everything, adapt to any new challenges I may face, and be a responsible young adult and student. With all these past experiences under my buckle, I look forward to taking on the next chapter in my life that lies ahead.

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Leap of Faith

By Stephanie Rubin

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Tiffany Hequin

You must risk everything to get everything.

Jump without looking down.

Dive with your eyes closed.

Fall without your arms outstretched.

Release what you think and want.

Become who you are.

Let go of your fears, Let go of yourself.

Push through the darkness Until you reach light.

Put words to your feelings.

Let your intentions be known.

Don’t do it for the big things, Do it for the small.

Use the words to give you the things That can’t just be letters on a page.

Do it for the things that can only be felt.

For the midnight messages, The hand steady on the wheel, The glance that takes away the fear.

Give all of yourself to become yourself.

You will think in two instead of one.

You smile at what only you know to see, You laugh at what is meant only for you.

Feel comfort in entwined fingers, Safety in gentle arms, Happiness in sparkling eyes, And fear is nowhere to be found.

Push the darkness away for yourself and for him.

The rewards of your bravery are not measured in gifts, In photographs, in letters, or in words.

The greatest reward is found after you bravely say the words.

When you can communicate without them.

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The Brook

By Madeline Benn

Finding ourselves by the raging river, Churning and rushing, the forest grew thinner.

Other sounds were seldom heard Not even the chirping’ of the bird.

But deep in the forest where no one goes There is a path that no ones knows Beside a brook that slowly trickles Amidst the meadows, pines and thistles.

The brook wanders through the wood She takes her time, like she should As if she had a hundred years But in the end she disappears.

Some shall wander where she goes She is the brook who no one knows Most, they stay close to the river Where the forest is much thinner.

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Ilana Lowenstein

But if you wander a little further To where the forest grows and You may find the tiny brook And if you like you could take a look.

Follow until the sun sets low, Among the trees, and in the hollow Walk until the forest clears, For that’s when she will disappear.

Into the forest no one knows Where she hides or where she goes.

But once the mighty river starts The brook always does depart She thrives where the sounds are free And where nature comes to be Alone and peaceful by itself Without the bother of anyone else But if you’re lucky and find her here Do not disturb her or let her hear.

Follow until she disappears And let her sounds fill your ears.

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Bonjour America Alanis Kupatt

By Theo Dartois

As I ran to my gate at the airport to catch my flight to Miami, I knew that it was the last time I would be in France for a long, long while. I also knew that this change would affect me greatly, between trying to adapt to a new country and having homesickness for the land that I loved. It definitely would be a challenge, and a challenge it was, a challenge that I accepted in 7th grade.

I vividly remember arriving in the most humid city of the world—that was my first indicator. Then, there was my first day in school. I walked into my American history class, trembling with fear and apprehension, and I slowly gave my schedule to my teacher so that she could check to see if I was in the right place. I timidly squeaked out the English that I knew, “I am a new student, my name is Theo, I come from France,” and that was all I could utter in that first conversation. Thankfully, I was seated next to a French speaking student which helped me regain a bit of confidence, but it

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was nothing compared to my usual comfort zone of having a French teacher in front of me. I definitely was that “fish out of water,” an expression that I had only heard of, never experienced.

After three months of suffering through piles of homework, decoding each question and using the beautiful invention known as the internet to answer questions on the amendments, for example, and other diverse history-related topics, I finally started understanding what I was learning, reading, and hearing. I eventually could read these questions with no translation and the homework started taking less time. And, after six months, I came to the sudden realization that I was then able to speak and develop ideas on my own while writing or talking.

I had become fluent; I had become truly bilingual!

Without a doubt, this achievement was a huge relief for both my family and me. School became considerably easier, and I was well on my way to perfecting my English, which had always been an ultimate goal, yet knowing, of course, that my accent would always be noticeable.

It had only taken me half-a-year to be able to speak and to understand English, but during those six months, I think I learned much, and I know for sure that this experience changed me. For example, it exposed me to new ideas and to think differently, and above all, it made me more confident with myself and taught me to stop thinking that my goals were impossible.

I had the proof that I had learned English and could now write an essay just like this one, and I could keep up with discussions in English with both teachers and peers. In fact, Miami became my “second “home.” I had once thought that no other place could compare with my native France, but I came to feel comfortable in the United States, as well. Also, I became adventuresome and more outgoing.

Vividly, I remember my family’s first trip in the US and our arrival in the arid desert that surrounds Las Vegas. I actually enjoyed talking to people on the plane and anyone else with whom I had the opportunity to exchange a few words. It was this exact opportunity that developed into my avid fascination to immerse myself into my newfound language and savor the many regional accents that I heard for my first time on that flight to the West. English certainly is, indeed, a rich language, and, gratefully, I am a better person for having ventured here and having faced the challenge of new surroundings, conquered it.

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Paola Martinez

Beautiful B ones

By Madeleine Harris

Alone Strive for perfection. weak Desire to be skinny control My body, not yours F A T What I REFUSE to be Nightmares Fill my head I will do anything Starve, Vomit, Drugs What ever it may take frail Beautiful Bones

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Life is a Blur

By Gabriel Magalhaes

Young man sleeps the day away The sun calls out: good morning, good day.

But man turns over and covers his ears Leave me alone, I have all my years.

The clock strikes three and man wakes Checks his phone, he made a mistake.

His lover called and left a text Have a good life, I wish you the best.

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Hung-over and lonely the man sways Over to his cabinet, where the black label stays.

Jobless and broke he looks in the mirror His skin wrinkled, his vision could be clearer.

He sees an old face that

he does not recognize Wasted all his years,

this he just realized.

Valeria Orozco

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Valeria Orozco

The light that burns inside Waiting to shine through I want to speak my mind But I don’t know what to do It’s hard to be respected When you’re looked upon as young But hopefully one day The words can roll off my tongue I hope you see my colors and believe what I say But this will have to wait For just another day and when I speak the truth You will finally see What hides deep, deep down The real and truthful me

The Colors Within

By Jessica Rolnick

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A

Denise Campbell

Beautiful

Sadness

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By Asher Zundel

The first nine months in my new city of Miami and its blood thinning heat and humidity were the longest in my entire life. Having been born and having spent most of my life in Zurich, Switzerland, I felt uprooted from everything I knew, or thought I knew. During my adjustment period, I developed a near-compulsive fascination with the cartoon show South Park by Matt Stone and Trey Parker. Little did I know that the cartoon would open my eyes to a new concept and influence my philosophy and outlook on life forever.

Fast forward one and a half years. My family was shocked by the suicide of one of my friends due to his inability to adjust to his new university. The event jolted me into reminiscing about those dreadful first months in Miami. When my mom asked me how I had coped with the move to Miami, I was reminded that it had been the South Park episode “A Beautiful Sadness” that had helped me.

The episode tells the story of Stan and Butters. Upon being dumped by his third-grade girlfriend, Stan fell into despair and joined the so-called “emotional” or “Emo” students in his school. At the same time, another character, Butters, was pursuing a girl he liked.

She worked at a restaurant that excelled in customer service and satisfaction. He misinterpreted her intentions and was instilled with the false notion that she was interested in him. He was crushed and disheartened when she rejected him.

The scene at the end of the episode shows Butters crying on a curb as the Emo students approach him to offer him a spot in their clique. He politely declines their offer, claiming that he loves life. Noting the confusion on the emotional kids’ faces, he continues to explain, “…The only way I can feel this sad now is because I felt something really good before. So I have to take the bad with the good. I guess what I’m feeling is like a beautiful sadness….”

This resonated with me when I was lonely. I empathized with Butters’ situation. His message spoke to me. I knew how happy I had been in Zurich, and though I felt miserable at the moment, Butters’ insightful observation made me realize that I, too, experienced a “beautiful sadness.”

I realized that we need the contrast of sadness to truly appreciate happiness. One does not exist without the other. My sadness, just like happiness, is an integral part of my life.

The episode allowed me to view my life from the outside in.

I was able to ask myself, did I want to harp on the miserable present and be sorrowful? Or, did I want to look to the future in a positive way, knowing that I will once again be happy, just as in Zurich? I was filled with a feeling of “beautiful sadness.” The episode has continued to be a major influence in the way I deal with difficulties in my life.

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Tanya Salami

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Shanti Town

By Gabriella Sharp

Lifeless earth mock its residents dry barren sinks unyielding Slick sweat beads on black foreheads Drips down darkened backs of native children playing in the heat A mother carries her baby, wrapped in unwashed yellow cloth Adorned with rags, shielded from the burning rays The sun at night, stealing al traces of warmth Children with impish grins race barefoot through the town begging sympathetic tourist for candy A dusty peppermint fished form the bottom of an old purse They bring their treasures home to ee jagged ti n thr No door, nothing to steal Toothless men laugh too loudly as alcohol burns their throats The African Shanti Towns are magnificent

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Nikita Kulkarni

Time vs. Life

By Jonathan Leeds 32

I wish I could say, On this bright, fruitful day, That everything will turn out just fine.

But for I am just a man, Who knows not what is life’s plan, Simply waiting to receive just a sign.

Time is just beginning, Yet the world is always spinning, The sun tells me it’s a new day.

This long day now ended, Time seems to have bent, The sun is now going away.

The night has engulfed us, Darkness, there is a surplus, And I now know what to say.

Time creates a history, And to me, it is no mystery, That yes, it was a wonderful day.

See now I know, That for us to grow, We need to understand this thing.

That time creates life, Gives a man his beloved wife, Letting flowers come up in the spring.

So what exactly is this “time”, Was it explained well in this rhyme?

Well that is for you to find out.

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Tanya Salami

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Dreaming

By Amber Calzadilla

By: Amber Calzadilla I dream and I dream A dream that may be so bittersweet Take me back To the time when all I needed was a little more play time All of my dolls and toy kitchens have turned into books and questions with answers missing Where has time gone?

18 in just a few months College papers and application letters No time for partying, no time for naps Where has high school gone? Four years and it’s almost a wrap I miss being a little girl But I know I will delight my parents as I toss up the cap Anxiously waiting for my diploma I promised I wouldn’t let you down All the fussing and fighting But I’ve turned around I let you down once But soon you’ll see I’m walking down the path of someone you never thought I’d be

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Die

Me?

By Carolina Gomez

I like to write, I like to dream I lose many games, I lose many homes I have saved only memories any other object gone from existence People have told me I am like no other I have forgotten who I am Believing I can do my best, Striving only for the top Places I have been, now gone with no trace Sunsets are beautiful coins slipping into slots Memories appear to be falling through a triangle with no base They all lean on me, staring staring staring

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A Glance

By Cristina Valencia

She noticed him.

At just one glance, One glance that immediately snapped her out of her daily routine.

One glance that rid her of the sounds expelled by a bustling New York City sidewalk.

One glance that made her think “What if?”

Suddenly, as she gained the courage to say “hello,” he was gone.

All he was now was a fragment in her memory.

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Carolina Illera

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The Veil

By Matthew Elgart

Miles and miles behind me Stretching out Farther than the eye can see But I don’t look back And only mere steps ahead Before the end of the path The only one I’ve ever known I shouldn’t be surprised It’s the most common end in the book Wait long enough and it happens to anyone We’re only afraid because we don’t understand Because we’ve never tried it before But when you’re at the end of the road And it’s the only course left to you There’s nothing left to be afraid of So I take the last steps of my journey Past my friends, my family, my memories Leaving what I know to join what I have left behind On the other side Of the veil

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Rachel Franklin

Valeria Orozco

Detroit

By Aaron Quint

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Empty buildings, dark streets, and graffiti on the walls Grey clouds descend over a grey city. Hail smashes the streets Friendly gazes meet with glares Frigid weather shocks the system Pungent smells of cigarettes and weed fill the air A homeless man, whose eyes have a yellow tint, Begins to yell and fight someone. I move away quickly.

Deep brown paint flakes off dilapidated buildings Complete blackness fills shattered windows Smoke from a manufacturing plant billows across the skyline How can anyone possibly live here?

The city is dying Yet while the city may be frail, the people are not.

Today is a football game.

And a so-called dead city comes alive with excitement.

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Boys of War

By Madeline Benn The night is what I fear the most The quiet and the dark.

For lurking in the silence Is a boy who will depart.

Although I cannot see him I know that he is there For even through this blackness I can see his soulless stare.

Whatever he had in him Is gone, and gone for good.

His feelings drained till empty His heart is now no good.

It starts with the first bullet It rubs your senses raw.

And by the end that boy Will have no sense at all.

For he has seen the day And he’s been in the fight.

He’s seen the glowing passion Of a blitzkrieg in the night.

His eyes will show no joy His heart will feel no pain.

His soulless stare will now And forever there remain.

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Treasures Within Me

By Sarah Hernandez

We lose many things in life, Some more easily than others, But as they disappear, Others are saved.

My Pop-Pop has endured in my heart, When he passed people would say, “Be strong for your family Sarah,” I cannot be strong for them though, Not myself, not alone, Not when the one who makes me strong, Is gone.

When I think of him I think of laughter, Vanilla ice cream, Coke, and basketball.

All these memories are wonderful, But my Pop-Pop was beautiful.

He was an expert on basketball and cards, Making people happy was his specialty, I loved listening to his stories, Watching basketball games, and pouring him a glass of Coke, “A lot of ice and a little Coke Sarah,” he would remind me.

I am a very forgetful person, I forget to turn in my math homework.

Set the table, and wash the dishes, But I will never forget my Pop-Pop

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Many years from now I will be wiser, I will be taller and more successful, I may no longer wear my favorite pairs of shoes, Or my special rose gold necklace, But none of this will ever matter Because the real treasure will be locked up in my heart forever.

Tanya Salami

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I

By Alina Anderson Stirring inside with mixed emotion, Where have I gone and who am I now?

Find myself swimming far out in ocean.

Waves large as life try pulling me down.

Try to break free but no telling how To swim to fresh air and take a deep breath; Fully submerged and thrashing around Should I submit and drink to death?

He will pull me closer, unwrap my gown, Take me by hand and lie me to rest below the ground.

Eternal Sleep now acts as a temptress.

She Whispers a promise in tones so sweet, That falling upon her earthy mattress Will bring to me a bliss complete.

Never before have I been so low That these frightening words could reach my ear But losing my grip has dropped me below Where sad nets entrap all who swim near.

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Help me friend, throw down a line From a vessel floating high above To reel me away from this foe of mine And replace it with eternal love.

Or send me a rope so that I might Attempt to climb out of Death’s arms Into your warm and encompassing light Where at last I am safe from harms.

Adrienne Cassel

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Valentina Wakeman

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II

By Alina Anderson

Every day,

There are countless people who Leave this world behind.

Then again, Each rising sun Welcomes a new generation.

Leaves will fall when winter comes

But spring

Will show growth once more.

Tears will be shed and rain will wash Away what once was there.

Then up come the bright Green sprigs of grass To show that all is not over.

For life is a cycle, A chain of events That can only begin at the end.

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Editorial Board Layout Design & Edits Daniela Benavides Gabrielle Beyer Holly Cabrelli Bianca Corgan Candela Coudray Carla De Haro Nicolette DeLappe Maya Dhairyawan Nicole Esquenazi Carolina Fernandez Aaron Finkel Juan Gascon Gabriella Goldman Carolina Gomez Emily Gomez Madeleine Granados Celine Hoffmann Alanis Kupatt Kristabella Manzanilla Estefania Martinez Christina Mouttet Ines Noel Alyssa Pujals Jessica Rolnick Marina Santos Ana Silva Camila Solis-Camara Megan Stoyanovich Caroline Valencia Natacia Zunjic

Adviser Ms. Monica Rodriguez

Editorial Policy

Mollie Dixie Beek

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As the official literary and art magazine of Gulliver Preparatory School, Reflections provides a forum showcasing the wide creative scope of the student body. Works are solicited through art and literature classes, but all students are welcome to submit entries.

Submissions are carefully reviewed and selected by the editorial board. The magazine is part of the curriculum of the journalism program and is completed during the second semester of the school year. Special thanks to Gulliver Preparatory School’s Art and English Departments for their contributions and support.

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