LIT February 2017

LIT

P B S - H SA' S L I T E R A RY M AGA Z I N E

@@e@@ $LOVE?$ @@i@@ W H AT I S

THE

FIRST ISSUE

ISSUE NO. 1 F E B R UA RY 1 3 , 2 0 1 7

¶ ELIAS JOHANSSON-MILLER

¶ ENGLISH 9 HONORS

¶ ANONYMOUS

Love & Trump & Romeo & Juliet ¶ E S S A Y

On Romeo & Juliet ¶ E X C E R P T S

A Little Story Not So Little ¶ N A R R A T I V E

¶ ANONYMOUS

¶ ELIAS JOHANSSON-MILLER

¶ CORINA GODOY

¶ ANONYMOUS

Love, Self ¶ P O E T R Y

My Love ¶ E S S A Y

Untitled ¶ C O L L A G E

¶ CORINA GODOY

¶ D A L I C I A C H E AT H A M

A Letter to My Future Self ¶ L E T T E R

BLM ¶ E S S A Y

Beauty of Love in Life ¶ P O E T R Y

¶ LESLIE GARCIA

¶ H E C T O R N AVA

Will You Be My Valentin? ¶ C O L L A G E

Psychosis.1 ¶ N A R R A T I V E

¶ MADISON CARROLL

¶ ANONYMOUS

¶ DANIEL SARMIENTO

¶ S TA F F

Melting Ice ¶ P H O T O G R A P H Y

Love ¶ N A R R A T I V E

Hey...Bye ¶ P O E T R Y

Dear Reader ¶ L E T T E R

TABLE OF

CONTENTS

2 3 4 5 6 9 10 11 12 14 15 17 18 20 22

Dear Reader,

What often makes us happiest about being in a school is the opportunity to be creative and to see students and staff alike strive to express themselves and communicate with others in authentic, magical ways. We see the brilliance of PBS-HSA’s scholars on exams, essays, projects, and presentations, but we wanted to find another way to showcase your talents, to ferret out the doodles, photographs, invectives, verses, and stories you might find more innate joy in doing than in your homework (It’s okay. We understand. We do the same thing.)

So here it is, the first literary magazine. A home for your genius. A labor of love.

We are grateful for our students who submitted their works for our inaugural issue. We are proud of their artistry and creativity and are thrilled to share their gifts with you. Our hope is that their bravery in the act of publishing is echoed many times over by you, our reader. Please keep an eye out for opportunities to be in our next issue and to participate in the editorial board.

Sincerely, Elias Johansson-Miller & Debbie Kim 2 ¶ F E B R UA RY 1 3 , 2 0 1 7 ¶ L I T

Hey… Bye

DANIEL SARMIENTO ¶ 12TH GRADE

It’s over when you learn to forget.

It’s over when you don’t know how it felt like.

It’s over when you’re no longer made happy by the thought.

It’s over when you can stare blankly with repercussion.

It’s over when acknowledgement isn’t there anymore.

It’s over when it’s too silent on a Wednesday at 2 am.

It’s over when you can wake up rested.

It’s over when indulgence in an activity for an extended period of time goes uninterrupted.

It’s over when laughing masks the slight pain in chest.

It’s only ever over when my dreams aren’t made up of you.

It’s over when I can finally embrace and dismiss this incident with little sighs under breath and a brief explanation.

L I T ¶ F E B R UA RY 1 3 , 2 0 1 7 ¶ 3

Love

ANONYMOUS ¶ 10TH GRADE

Mommy, I may not have grown in your womb for nine months but you carried me for a month and seven weeks.

God had their plans for me, which was look after you from above. I know at night you cry because you didn't carry me in your arms but in your heart. I am just your little angel who protects and cares for you everyday. I'm sorry you lost me. I was too precious to be in this world. You didn't feel me kick or move, but you did hold me when we said our last goodbyes but we will soon see each other, and I will call you mom for the first time.

Just because you're not with me doesn't mean you made me a mother. It just means you were too perfect for me.

4 ¶ F E B R UA RY 1 3 , 2 0 1 7 ¶ L I T

melting ice

MADISON CARROLL ¶ 10TH GRADE

L I T ¶ F E B R UA RY 1 3 , 2 0 1 7 ¶ 5

psychosis.1

H E C TO R N AVA ¶ 11 T H G R A D E

August 15, 2056 The sun shines through the fused silicone glass onto the metal floor. The alarm sets off at exactly 8:00 AM, and an electronic voice of a woman over a holographic screen says: “Good morning, Mr. Wolf, lady Cecilia has requested your presence at The Leonard Raschke.”

Denton wakes up and stops the alarm, gets his coffee from the automated coffee maker, which leaves a lingering smell of hazelnut, turns on the radio, and gets into a warm shower.

“Good morning, people in the Celestial, today’s date: August 15, 2056, 8:10 AM,” says the radio host in an optimistic tone. “Hope you didn’t catch cold this morning because there is going to be a big party at The Leonard Raschke celebrating the opening of the Celestial’s new section, The Garret Callahan, named after our newest Captain. Hope you have a wonderful day.”

Denton gets out of the shower and dries his body with the nearest towel. He looks into the mirror—he rubs the towel across his rectangular face as he cleans the water from his beard, his medium-sized brown eyes spaced evenly apart, sitting below flat eyebrows. He wipes the last bit of water from his refined nose, keeping his thin mouth closed, as he then proceeds to comb his hair. He combs his short, black, straight hair into an alas hairstyle, leaving a few strands of hairs on his broad forehead. He walks out into the living room and presses a button on the wall; a sudden shift in the wall’s structure makes it go inside, opening a hidden room that shifts outwards revealing a closet with Denton’s clothing. He grabs his black and yellow onesie-esque space suit that has the Celestial’s logo embroidered on the left side of the chest and puts it on. He walks out of the room slowly while looking back and having a slightly weird feeling that something is off, but he brushes it aside and continues to go to the party.

Once there, he notices the place has a 60s aesthetic and the people there are dressed in that fashion, rather than having a proper space suit. The place is a big room that curves around the spaceship’s main elevator, giving an appearance of a donut. It has large panels of curved, fortified glass on the left side from top to bottom, giving an amazing view to the dark and lonely outer-space.

Some men are around the bar drinking with friends, couples dancing to “Bad Moon Rising” by Creedence Clearwater, and others sitting around round tables zigzagging across the room.

6 ¶ F E B R UA RY 1 3 , 2 0 1 7 ¶ L I T

This feels weird, I’ve never heard this song before, and yet, it feels like I have, Denton thinks to himself as he walks between the tables and dancing people. He spots the lovely lady Cecilia, who is wearing a long red dress that reveals her thin, smooth left leg, and he walks up to her. Her dress looks like a fiery red maple tree, and her long, warm mocha colored curls rest on her left shoulder, as she drinks from a cup of wine. She turns around and sees Denton.

“Look who finally decided to get up. Had fun last night?” says Cecilia with a smirk.

“What’s with this whole setup?” Denton replies, worried.

“I had fun too,” Cecilia responds sarcastically. “Why, you never went to a party before?”

“Multiple, but none like this.”

“Ha, it’s a celebration to the new captain of this space station, a real big fan of old times,” Cecilia says.

Soon after, a man dressed in a space suit similar to Denton’s enters the room.

“Denton, nice to see you are finally here!" he shouts loud enough to be heard over the music and across the room. “Come, I need of your assistance.”

“He is the new captain. Careful with what you say,” Cecilia says to Denton.

Denton quickly walks over to Callahan, who starts to walk out of the room and into the hallway.

“Morning, sir. What can I do for you?” Denton says as he reaches out for a handshake. Callahan follows the gesture and continues.

“I need you to head out to the engineering room to fix a few ventilation tubes. You are capable for the job right?” Callahan turns to Denton with a smile.

“Of course, sir. I’m one of the best engineers in this station.”

“Good to hear. Now, head down there, and you’ll find the tools you need on a table to the right.”

Denton walks off to the nearest elevator door and heads to the lowest level, the 5th floor. As soon as the doors open, he notices that the place is empty and that the ceiling is clouded with steam. The room is filled with tubes and coolants for the purposes of maintaining the stability of the station’s core and supplying breathable oxygen and drinkable water. He grabs the mask and wrench on the table to his right, and proceeds through the corridor and turns right to the station’s core. There he sees the massive sphere that contains the station’s energy source, surrounded by big circular panels that emit a big wave of cold air. Some panels seem to not do anything, but they are used to take some energy that is released from the sphere in order to prevent it from exploding and to prevent the loss of valuable energy. Denton walks around in a sealed corridor that goes around the bottom side of the L I T ¶ F E B R UA RY 1 3 , 2 0 1 7 ¶ 7

room to keep away from the dangerous sphere. He then opens a sealed panel on the floor and puts on his mask as he enters. Inside he finds a tube that is leaking pressurized air and proceeds to fix it. While he does that a sound of clashing metal echoes through the corridors. Denton finishes fixing the pipe and goes to check on the noise. He climbs out of the room beneath the core and closes the panel, then walks slowly through the corridor.

“Hello?” he shouts, but doesn’t get a response. He sees that some pipes are broken and leaking water. He then hears more noises coming behind him and turns around. A black goo leaks out of a vent from behind him and starts to pile on the ground. It forms into a human-like creature with no features in its face or body, only dripping goo from its fingers.

“What the f–—” Denton is attacked by the creature that throws its hand, now shifted into a tentacle, towards Denton. Denton manages to evade the attack, but the tentacle hits a pipe behind him. The pipe bursts and an alarm sounds off: “EMERGENCY. EMERGENCY. Evacuate the room immediately! Low oxygen levels in the room!”

Denton tries to run to the elevator, but trips and falls. “Damn!”

The creature grabs his leg and started to pull him towards the core. Denton tries to get himself free by banging the creature with the wrench, but doesn't manage to do much. The creature then throws Denton to the far end of the corridor, shifting his hand back to a regular human hand. Denton stands up and tries punching the creature, his hand just starting to sink into the creature's face. Denton can't free himself now, and the creature proceeds to sink him further in until Denton is completely eaten by the goo.

The sun shines through the fused silicone glass onto the metal floor. The alarm sets off at exactly 8:00 AM, and an electronic voice of a woman over a holographic screen says: “Good 3%!5*)8, Mr. Wolf, lady @1%4$^3! has requested your presence at The Leonard Raschke.”

Denton wakes up and stops the alarm, gets his coffee from the automated coffee maker that is spilling black goo from the top, turns on the radio, and gets into a warm shower.

“Good morning people in the !3&DE^&7#, today’s date: August 15, 2#56, 8:10 AM. Hope you didn’t catch ^&gA$6 this morning because there is going to be a big party at The Leonard !@&6TH%@ celebrating the opening of the Celestial’s new section, The 5^@7&!=> Callahan; called after our newest Captain. Hope you have a 4%*2@%3 day,” says the radio host in an optimistic–static– tone. Denton gets out of the shower and dries his body with the nearest towel. He looks into the mirror– Something’s off. ¶ 8 ¶ F E B R UA RY 1 3 , 2 0 1 7 ¶ L I T

will you be my valentin?

LESLIE GARCIA ¶ 10TH GRADE

L I T ¶ F E B R UA RY 1 3 , 2 0 1 7 ¶ 9

beauty of love in life

DALICIA CHEATHAM ¶ 12TH GRADE

Love is never truly defined For there is no right or wrong answer.

Love has many definitions.

Love is all, Love is everywhere.

Love is, A safe place to land A balloon perfectly trapped in a tree Nature dancing in the wind The sun over the horizon The night sky full of stars Love is infinite.

Everyone has a different perspective We love in different ways.

But can we truly love better after death?

If we have a true interpretation of love We can love thee better after death.

1 0 ¶ F E B R UA RY 1 3 , 2 0 1 7 ¶ L I T

blm

CORINA GODOY ¶ 10TH GRADE

Black Lives Matter is an important and necessary movement in our country today. Black Americans are 2.5 times more likely to be shot and killed by police officers than white Americans. They are more likely to receive a longer sentence for committing the same, or even smaller, crimes as whites. We do not live in a post-racial society. There is racism embedded all throughout our country’s government, authority, and communities. We can’t say this is not true when the origin of police in the United States, beginning with the 13 colonies, was to present authority and control over slaves. There are murders every day against black Americans by police, some of which are recorded, yet the officer only receives a paid vacation. One might justify the deaths by assuming the victim committed the crime, but that statement alone is unconstitutional. What happened to innocent until proven guilty? A trial can’t be held if the alleged criminal is dead. People bring up amendments and “our founding fathers” only when it is convenient for them, all while contradicting constitutional law. “What about black-on-black crime?” This question has no other purpose but to derail discussion about black lives. There is no real concern on how to reduce or stop it. One might as well say, “They kill each other so it’s okay if we kill them, too.” Black-on-black crime does not occur for the same reasons police killings do. Black people are not militarized the way our authority is. A black man will not kill another black man for the color of his skin. Sure, it could be for the color of his clothes - blue, red, anything - but we have to go back further and ask more questions. Why are black Americans so heavily involved in gangs? Many say it’s for protection. Protection from what? Other gangs? Other black people? What will they do? Rob them? Why are they robbing each other? For resources? So they’re low on resources and live in bad neighborhoods. That must be it. This is their fault for living the way they do, right?

But again I ask why. Why do they live in “bad neighborhoods”? Could it be because of white people sending them to live in poorer areas before, during, and after segregation? Could it be because of gentrification? Could it be because those crowded apartments are the only place a black family can afford on one income, since the father or mother are likely wrongfully incarcerated or have been killed by police? Maybe it’s because of managers and real estate agents saying no as soon as they see the color of their skin. We must question every problem to find the root and the solution. What we must not do is question and trivialize the struggles and oppression of black Americans and how they choose to fight it. Resistance matters. Black lives matter.

L I T ¶ F E B R UA RY 1 3 , 2 0 1 7 ¶ 1 1

a letter to my future self

ANONYMOUS ¶ 10TH GRADE

Dear Future Me, How was it? Time, I mean. Did it treat you right or bad? Right now I am fine, but I need you to listen to me.

Ok? Okay.

It is possible that you already know this about me, because you are me and I am you sort of deal. You are wiser than I, but give me a break! This is my first time being 15, and your time being which ever age you are. I persevered through great sufferings like a BOSS!! (Jacksepticeye Reference, great guy!)

At the end, you have learned and discovered where you belong in life, well kinda. This is life so of course, you will go through more rigorous existential obstacles down the path. All this soul-tearing pain makes oneself stronger in the sense of reaching your maximum potential. I know it may be a lot to digest all at once, sorry for that by the way.

Good thing I told you sooner than later... for you are now blessed with a heart for compassionate empathy, a magnanimous soul to accept the unacceptable, an open-minded, precious capability to explore the freedom of learning, and a charismatic spirit that has the ability to drastically influence humanity around me. An appreciative inquiry. Not only do I obtain this energy in me, I feel strongly intertwined with humans. Therefore, I may fancy the purpose in life should not be another concept than Love. Love is a virtue.

Don't say, "Ewww... what do you mean love?” Love for yourself to love anyone and everyone. Love cannot be explained to others with spoken thoughts, writing, not evening logical reasoning. Still listening!? You better future me, or else I going to create a time paradox just to slap you in the face... like a BOSS!!!

A piece of advice for those open to listening, to truly love you must and will truly suffer. You will suffer in Life one way or another whether you acknowledge the suffering and take action to improve humanity one choice at a time or accept suffering as the only choice. You can live with love, but you only exist with suffering. Therefore, I fancy the question to ask oneself is if the price is worth the pain?

It is not that important! I hope you understand what I am telling you, and I really got off topic here. I wanted to let you know the meaning of life is ambiguous, as are the participants of humanity. Anyways, how are you? :)

1 2 ¶ F E B R UA RY 1 3 , 2 0 1 7 ¶ L I T

You, Present ME

P.S. A lovely friend once bewildered a powerful question, “How to live?” I have no clue… I am in the process of living. Yes, I am alive and living. ¶

L I T ¶ F E B R UA RY 1 3 , 2 0 1 7 ¶ 1 3

untitled

CORINA GODOY ¶ 10TH GRADE

1 4 ¶ F E B R UA RY 1 3 , 2 0 1 7 ¶ L I T

My love

ANONYMOUS ¶ 10TH GRADE

Teen relationships aren’t all that easy. Parents may not approve of who you’re with, or like my dad said to me, “You’re too young.”

My experience with my relationship was pretty rough. My dad doesn’t like him, not really sure why. We hid our relationship from my dad, but he found out about us twice. We didn’t care... we were in love. Timmy was tall, skinny, he smelled like my favorite cologne (Blue Polo), he had really nice hair, and he also knew how to dress.

Timmy bought me anything I wanted. I would always tell him not to, but he’d buy it for me anyway.

I always feel safe with him, although I rarely see him. My dad stopped letting me out after he found out about us.

The first time he found out about our relationship was because of my mom. I live with my dad, and one day I went to visit my mom. We talked and it got to the point where I told her about me and Timmy. Guess that was a mistake.

A couple of weeks passed. I was on my way to a doctor’s appointment with my grandma when she got a call from my dad. He was yelling so loud through the phone, I was confused as to why. Once they got off the phone my grandma stared at me and said, “Como puedes confiar la más que nosotros?” That means “How could you trust her more than us?” At that moment I felt the whole world end for me. I never thought they’d find out. I planned on telling them after my grades went up. I honestly thought I could trust my mom, she was the only one I confided in about my relationship.

When my dad got home, I waited for him to yell at me. I was wrong. He sat down on the couch and told me he was upset and wished I hadn’t told my mom first. He took my phone away and said I couldn’t go out out until I gained his trust back.

My relationship with my dad wasn’t the same after that. We wouldn’t even say “Hi” to each other at home.

After some time passed and we began to talk, he gave me my phone back and let me go out again.

When I told Timmy what happened, he wouldn’t stop apologizing. He blamed himself. I told him not to; after all, I’m the one that chose to talk to him. We thought of breaking up, but we couldn’t stand to lose the memories we had made, the good times and the bad times.

Months went by, and I remember everything clearly. I was on my way home from seeing my aunt and cousins. It was really hot outside. I got home and left my phone in my room. My dad went into my room and L I T ¶ F E B R UA RY 1 3 , 2 0 1 7 ¶ 1 5

grabbed my phone. He started going through my messages, and I realized I forgot to sign out of my Instagram account. He saw a picture I posted of me and Timmy. Oh man, was he mad. He gave me a speech I felt lasted forever. This time it was even worse. Summer was here, he didn’t let me out with friends at all. It was the same, awful routine every day.

I also had an iPod my dad didn’t know about, until one day his girlfriend saw me using it and snitched me out.

I was constantly getting lectured, and it was annoying. My dad was always talking mess to me about Timmy. But Timmy didn’t give up on us; as long as he had me and I had him, we were happy.

Summer was ending, and school was right around the corner. I began getting close to my dad again. He thought me and Timmy were officially over. It hurt me to lie to my dad because we’ve gone through a lot together.

Once school started and I got my phone back, you can already guess what I did. I texted Timmy.

He was excited and asked if he could see me after school, and I said, “Yeah, of course.” We hadn’t seen each other for two whole months, and I missed him so much.

I’m glad that he has come into my life. He tries his best to make time for me and make me happy. I am thankful for him and always will be. ¶

1 6 ¶ F E B R UA RY 1 3 , 2 0 1 7 ¶ L I T

love, self

ELIAS JOHANSSON-MILLER ¶ STAFF

Dear Past Self, Don’t worry - talk to her.

Love, Self

Dear Future Self, Don’t worry - talk to her.

Love, Self

L I T ¶ F E B R UA RY 1 3 , 2 0 1 7 ¶ 1 7

a little story not so little

ANONYMOUS ¶ 9TH GRADE

Like any human being I woke up today, well a breathing human being because if you're not breathing you’re dead and when you’re dead, you’re dead. I had just realized it was 12 o’clock. I had slept in for way too long. Yay! I could finally say “Good Afternoon” to absolutely nothing. Note the extreme sarcasm. Me being me I lied down doing absolutely nothing then I remembered I was invited to this Quinceñera; surprised I even got noticed even more surprising I was invited. So I thought to myself, “Why not go see a girl in a big poofy dress?” So I got up; I didn’t know what to wear so I wore my “IAMGAYUSA” long sleeve. I’m gay ok so now that this out of the way, let’s go to this party. £ I walked in. t was like nothing I expected. I was expecting it to be so trashy but my thoughts lied to reality, and reality proved me so wrong. I looked up and saw a chandelier; it was gorgeous. It immediately stole my attention; I couldn’t explain what it looked like. I snapped myself out of it and then continued to look for a for a seat. I saw an empty table and went straight to it.

I sat there by myself; I prefered to be by myself. I sat there for a few minutes and then a waiter came. With a husky voice he asked, “What would you like?”

I wasn’t sure how to respond to him so I quickly thought and answered: “Surprise me.”

“As you say,” he said.

He turned around and walked away. I then saw Alisha in her big poofy dress; the color was champagne - very interesting. I'm not sure who but somebody dimmed down the lights so she could begin her grand entrance. But I shortly realized there was a girl across the ball who was staring at me. She was wearing a white dress. I didn’t know what it was but she stole my attention. She immediately reminded me of the chandelier, but this time I couldn’t snap out of it. I then threw her a smirk and then she threw back a smile. Instantly I died inside; that was too much to handle. She then got up and went up a couple of stairs. I followed. She led me to an empty part of the building.

There were just two young souls trying to figure each other out. She then turned around and looked at me. She was an angel. I thought to myself, “How could an angel like her let a devil like me come close to her?” She then ignited the conversation; with a weak and shy voice she said, “Hi.” 1 8 ¶ F E B R UA RY 1 3 , 2 0 1 7 ¶ L I T

“Hello,” I said.

She looked at me and smiled and then continued to say, “You’re a little wierdo for staring at me.” She had a smile that could light up this whole ball room. It was something I had never witnessed nor had ever felt in my existence.

I then smirked and said, “Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy my eyes on you.”

She shoved my arm and tried to cover her cheeks and smile. But she failed. I could obviously tell that she was blushing. Then she looked at me with a bit of a serious face and said, “So tell me now how many girls do you flirt with?” Her eyebrow was raised.

Then I gave her my realist smile and said, “None, I just decided to take the risk of falling in love with an angel tonight.” The devil in me decided to come close and whisper into her ear, “Would it be a sin to fall in love with an angel tonight?”

She proceeded to grab my hand. As my hand was entwined with her I lost myself in her eyes. I then pulled her closer as I was still lost in her eyes. I said with love in every single word, “Let my eyes meet with yours the way the horizon meets with the heaven sky and let my lips give you of the most pleasant treats you will ever receive.”

Then she gave me a kiss. At this moment I knew I could never come back to reality again.

This is a weird story ❣ As I say love you ❣ before anybody ❣

L I T ¶ F E B R UA RY 1 3 , 2 0 1 7 ¶ 1 9

on romeo & Juliet

PBS-HSA 9TH GRADE ENGLISH HONORS CLASS ¶ 9TH GRADE

Love is the affection towards another Love is affection towards the way someone is as a whole rather than only their appearance Love is a deep feeling of happiness towards someone or something Love is when you have known someone for a really long time, when you are able to do weird things with one another, when you stay by each other’s side through thick and thin Love is something people feel Love is painful Love is gracious Love is being there Love is being there, in good and bad times Love is strength Love is togetherness Love can be really tough Love is unstoppable Love is a difficult, but beautiful, thing When you are young, you believe that you are in love just based on the beauty of someone Love is difficult Juliet doesn’t have a say in marrying Romeo This story is crazy!

Love is strong Love is a word that is taken advantage of and people don’t know what real love is - I don’t even know what real love is Romeo and Juliet are just like everyone else and fall for someone too quickly and don’t even take time to get to know someone and just want to get together right away This story of romance can be dirty, awkward, and a bit gross Love is a warmth and comfort you feel with someone 2 0 ¶ F E B R UA RY 1 3 , 2 0 1 7 ¶ L I T

Love is comfort because you can act like yourself Shakespeare writes in an amazing, but confusing, way Love is learning from people and caring for them Love can happen in foolish ways IDK Love is a wonderfully stupid thing Love is caring about someone so much you’d die for them.

Ride or die When you someone you put them before yourself Teenage love dies quickly Love can be twisted Love is when two people are happy Love at first sight exists Romeo and Juliet are “in love” Love is an explosion of different feelings Romeo and Juliet are dumb Romeo and Juliet do not love each other Love is caring Love is being committed Notice that he says “both” and not just the Montague or the Capulet family. He blames both families because both of them engaged in the violence, which caused them to perish. ¶

L I T ¶ F E B R UA RY 1 3 , 2 0 1 7 ¶ 2 1

Love & trump & Romeo & Juliet ELIAS JOHANSSON-MILLER ¶ STAFF

There were signs that made me laugh: “Melania, Blink twice if you want us to save you.” There were signs that made me cry: “I am with her. And her. And her. And her. And her. And her. And her. And her. And her. And her.

And her. And her. And her.” There were signs that made me think: “I am no longer accepting the things I cannot change. I am changing the things I cannot accept.”

I didn’t make a sign. I got home last night and was too tired and couldn’t think of something witty. I was also tired this morning when I woke up and went downtown for the Los Angeles Women’s March, one of many protests the day after President Trump happened. I met my friend in the sea of people. He had made a sign: “Love Trumps Hate.”

Can love overcome an unstable megalomaniac? Can love make any real change in the world?

I’m usually a cynical person; I spend too much time thinking about the negative and not enough time thinking about the positive. While the sign “Love Trumps Hate” sounds nice, I can’t help but think that when placed next to the United States government, the outcome will be more like Trump trumps love. Trump is power; power is concrete. Love is a feeling; love is ethereal. Yet, after the Women’s March I had these strangely optimistic feelings.

Maybe, I thought, if enough people loved then maybe they could beat Trump. Is loving enough? Can love - a set of chemical changes in our brain, a feeling - actually do anything?

I thought about Romeo and Juliet, those famous star-crossed lovers, whose story I am currently reading with my 9th grade English Honors class. To them, love was this powerful force that forced them (they really had no agency in the matter) to make life-altering choices: marry, kill someone, take a potion, stab yourself. So, perhaps a feeling can spur action. But can actions from love beat actions from hate?

Here I came back to Shakespeare’s famous play about teenage love. Romeo is a Montague and Juliet is a Capulet; their families have been feuding hard for many years (you might consider them the old-school Democrats 2 2 ¶ F E B R UA RY 1 3 , 2 0 1 7 ¶ L I T

and Republicans). Despite knowing that they are from warring families, they fall madly in love. At the end of the play, their tragic deaths prompt the Montagues and Capulets to begin mending their hate. While one could argue that it is the deaths that ultimately push the families to reconcile, the emotion that set everything in motion was love. Love. Love, when felt deeply and acted upon day in and day out, seems to outweigh hate.

There is so much hate in Shakespeare’s - and our - world. But there has to be more love.

Maybe my friend’s sign at the Women’s March should have said, “Love & Romeo & Juliet Trumps Hate.” ¶

L I T ¶ F E B R UA RY 1 3 , 2 0 1 7 ¶ 2 3

OUCH