As this semester comes to an end, I want to take a moment to thank the Department’s faculty for the extraordinary work they have done. It has been a hectic semester with many ups and downs, but your dedication and collaboration have made a difference in my work as the Director and in the students’ lives.
Every effort you have put into your classes has contributed in ways that will continue to resonate with your students long after the semester ends. Thanks, with all my heart for everything you do!
Also, I want to congratulate all our students for the hard work. The challenges you faced, the lessons you have learned, and the growth you have experienced are all part of the tremendous journey you are on. Keep believing in yourself, stay curious, and welcome the opportunities ahead. Remember that each step towards your goal, no matter how small, is a victory. You got this!
Rest and recharge during this upcoming holiday season. Merry Christmas & Happy New Year!
Dr. Jennifer Alicea Chairperson of the English Department
In our Epigram, we showcase examples of good writing. You are capable of producing Epigram-worthy material.
At the end of the semester, we remind you of the poem our elementary school teachers used to recite to us (and it still holds true!):
You can never rest,
Until your good is better, And your better, best!
- Professor Pier Angeli LeCompte, PhD
Discography POEMS
By ENGL 4021 Students
The Strong and “Gorgeous” “Anti-Hero”
Poem inspired by the discography of Taylor Swift
I identify as an “Anti-Hero,” being completely made of “Bad Blood.” Yet, I feel “Gorgeous,” because there is nothing wrong with being different.
“I Knew You Were Trouble” and “Guilty as Sin.” Once again, I find myself in a “Delicate” situation.
I live currently in “My Wildest Dreams,” “So High School,” if you ask me.
My true best friend is “ME!”, the only one who knows my favorite color is from that “Cardigan.”
You are so lost: you don’t realize there is “Daylight” everyday. That is why “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together.”
Life is going “All Too Well” for me, but it also feels like the television show “Blank Space.” “You Need to Calm Down,” I repeat to my reflection. If I could change my name, it would be “Lover” or “Enchanted.”
Love ChangesYou
Poem inspired by the discography of Drake
They say “Girls Love Beyoncé” But I’m caught “In My Feelings,” Trying to feel “Unforgettable.”
You see, “You Broke My Heart,” And now I just “Laugh Now Cry Later.” Living here at “8 a.m. in Charlotte,” Wishing to be at “Virginia Beach.”
Thinking you were “U My Everything,” I realized “Girls Want Love,” Love that tastes like juice, Love that tastes like “Passionfruit.”
I’m hating the “Daylight,” But loving the nightlife. The “Stories About My Brother,” Are now replacing my showtime.
Life is “Too Good” Even when people are cruel. Just “Love All,” that’s my rule. I’m changing to be someone new. Now I’m “Energy” because of you.
By: Lorenis Silva Soto
ENGL 4021 L30
By: Marisabel González Acevedo ENGL 4021 MC0
EIGHTH HALLOWEEN WRITING CONTEST AND AWARD CEREMONY
By: Dr. Lourdes Ortiz Soto, Coordinator of the Halloween Writing Contest and Award Ceremony
On November 15, 2024, the English Department proudly celebrated the EIGHTH HALLOWEEN STORY WRITING AWARD CEREMONY. This event has significantly enhanced students' communication skills, vital for their personal, academic, and professional growth. It offers a unique platform for students to showcase their English writing skills through original, spooky tales. This year, this event was a remarkable success! Twenty talented authors submitted their horror stories by October 28, 2024.
An esteemed judging panel, including Dr. Pier Le Compte Zambrana, Prof. Alejandra Zapata Torres, and Prof. Frances Torres Labastide, carefully evaluated the entries. The judges are unaware of the names of the participants because they are required to submit their stories with a pseudonym. Scores of each story were registered in a validated writing rubric. Judges shared that these bone-chilling stories get better by the year making their decisions tougher.
Thirty guests attended the ceremony including students, our Chairperson Dr. Jennifer Alicea Castillo, and faculty members.
The most exciting part of this event was the announcement of our FIVE WINNERS and the awarded prize money. Each winner had the opportunity to read a fragment of their masterpiece stories to the audience. We thank the Puerto Rican University Professors Association (APPU) for generously sponsoring $300 in prizes for the top entries. The winners of this year’s Halloween Contest were:
2
Alejandro M. Santiago De Jesús
3rd PLACE: Norberto Santiago Vázquez
1ST HONORARY MENTION: Charylee Feliciano Quiñones Scary Little Pumpkin $30.00
2ND HONORARY MENTION: Diego López Rentas
We would like to acknowledge and congratulate our twenty outstanding participants, encouraging them to join us for next year's 9th Halloween Writing Contest and Award Ceremony. These participants include:
José Yadiel Colón Colón, Roberto A. Pagán Toledo, Carolina Colón Hernández, José Emanuel Reyes, Alyani Cruz López, Héctor Rodríguez Torres, Charylee Feliciano Quinones, Amanda Sanabria Rosado, Ian Yael Ferrer Rovira, Barbara Santiago Colón,
Valerie Figueroa Ortiz , Alejandro M. Santiago De Jesús, Elybeth Gómez González, Leemary Sánchez Serrano, Diego López Rentas, Norberto Santiago Vázquez, Luis Maldonando Feliciano, Ashanty Lee Torres Maldonado, Dana G. Ortiz Ortiz, and Diego Torres Pérez.
All contestants received certificates and enjoyed fun photo sessions while sharing snacks and refreshments with attendees during our closing event.
We extend our gratitude to the judges for their exceptional collaboration, and we appreciate Dr. Alicea’s presence and support for all our department’s academic activities. We are also thankful to our English Department professors who contributed treats for our students and guests.
Don’t Cry Mommy
By Leemary Sánchez Serrano
Oliver was tired of the yelling. Every day, his parents would argue about everything, especially about him. They said he wasn't doing well in school, and mommy always seemed upset. But tonight, was the worst. She called him a “failure”. He didn't know what she meant exactly, but he knew it wasn't good. So, Oliver made up his perfect plan, to leave. Maybe, if he left, they will realize how much they loved him and stop fighting. Maybe they'd come together to find him. He grabbed his stuffed animal, a small black cat named Shadow, from his bed, put it in his backpack. Then slowly sneaked outside.
The street was eerily quiet, and Oliver shivered. He hated the dark, but it was better than hearing his parents argue. As he walked, a black cat appeared in front of him. It looked just like Shadow. Oliver was surprised, but it seems friendly. It moved ahead, as if leading him somewhere. “Maybe this cat is my angel”, Oliver thought, following it down the road. The cat led him to a park where an old man was sitting on a bench. He had rough, scarred skin, and tattered clothes. When the black cat approached the man, he sneezed loudly and roughly rubbed his red eyes.
“Filthy cat” he muttered under his breath. The man turned his head slowly revealing the other side of his bruised face.
“You shouldn't be out here alone, kid” he rasped, grabbing the boy’s arm. His grip was rough and cold.
“Come on kid. Let's get you home before the monsters find you." He released his arm from the old man's grip. The black cat hissed loudly. Oliver didn't like the way the man looked at him or the way he talked about monsters. “He was a monster”, he thought. The boy ran away as fast as he could.
After running forever, Oliver slowed down. The black cat stayed close and watched him with green glowing eyes. Up ahead, a lady was standing next to a car, smiling warmly. “She looks like my teacher, Ms. Johnson”, he thought. She had soft eyes and a gentle voice.
“Hey there sweetie”, she kindly said. “Are you lost? I can help you to find your way home.”
Oliver was tired and scared. The woman seemed nice, so different from that scary man. She offered him a blanket and a drink. He felt a little relieved.
“Why don't you come with me dear? I'll take you somewhere safe”, she said, while opening the door of her car. For a moment, Oliver thought about going with her. She was friendly and unlikely a monster.
He looked towards the black cat. His back was arched and it hissed, making the boy hesitate.
Something felt wrong. His stomach tightened. He entered the car and he noticed the doors were locked. Also, the woman's smile was too wide. The cat hissed again, but louder than before. That’s when he knew… he needed to run.
Oliver followed the cat down a quiet path, out of breath. They ended up at a graveyard. The cat stopped at a small tombstone; its eyes were glowing a blueish green in the darkness. The boy stared at the stone confused, because it had his name on it. He knelt down, brushing the dirt away, and saw his birthday and followed by the year of death.
"How can this be?" he whispered.
Suddenly he heard a soft cry and recognized her voice. His mother was sitting by the tombstone, holding shadow, the same cat he thought he had with him. Tears rolled down her pale face as she said:
"I'm sorry Oli, I'm so sorry…”
Oliver's heart ached as he watched his mother cry. He realized now she loved him all along.
She wasn't mad at him; she was sad and hurt.
“Don't cry, mommy”, he whispered with a sad tone, even though she couldn't hear him.
The black cat rubbed against his leg. Then Oliver felt peace wash over him. He wasn't alone.
The cat had been guiding him to his freedom.
1st Honorary Mention
By Charylee C Feliciano Quiñones
Do you know what Halloween is? I suppose we all know that it is a celebration that is only celebrated on October 31st of every year at night. Where everyone dresses up for fun and the little ones go ‘trick-or-treating’ for their candy. Most of us like to celebrate Halloween, in a unique or common way. Let me tell you a simple Halloween story, it is about a young mortal, I still remember his name, Angel…
It all started when the sun started to go down, making a beautiful sunset, everyone started to turn on their terrific lights, decorations and attraction to start the Halloween Festivities, in this neighborhood is their specialty. It was always the same, young and small mortals leaving their houses, with their best costumes with the basket for candy, they started their ‘trick-or-treat’ towards the houses for the treats. I didn’t see anything out of place, everything was the same every year… or so I thought. Then, I saw group of little mortals alone, strange, I thought normally the older mortals were always with the little ones. Afterwards I didn’t give them any importance, but a young mortal dressed as a Halloween pumpkin caught my attention
Anyway, I kept walking past the living, watching them enjoy the night. I thought it would just be like any other Halloween, but I saw the young mortal dressed as a pumpkin again. This time he was alone. I passed by him, he looked sad and lost, but then he turned in my direction and said: “Wow! That costume of yours looks so skeletally great! How did you make it look so real?” I stopped my steps and turned to him, wondering how he could see me? But I decided to play along and said “What can I say, I’m a professional…” he replied “You can call me Angel and look at my costume, I’m a pumpkin!” I looked at the young man, his costume had red spots, just like on his head under his hat, and replied “I see, you’re a scary little pumpkin…” the little mortal just looked at me curiously said “Really? I really don’t think I’m scary…” I looked at him from head to toe, he was definitely a Halloween pumpkin, but to make it more interesting, he had some red spots all over his body, especially on his head
Changing the topic, I asked him the following question: “Little one, what are you doing here
alone? Don’t you have any friends?” After I asked him, he looked around and said “Well, I don’t know, I think I got lost, but I don’t remember…” then he lowered his head with sadness and concern. I looked around, I didn’t see his friends from before, maybe he got separated from them for some reason. Turning my gaze towards the young mortal and said: “Don’t worry young one, I’ll help you find your way…”
The young mortal called Angel looked at me with his innocent smile while replying “Thank you sir, it would be a great help!”
The little one told me that the last thing he remember was a mansion. In this neighborhood there is only one, so we started walking, until I saw the last house, the mansion, but I noticed, something was wrong. When we got closer I saw a crowd of mortals wearing costumes outside the mansion, I couldn’t understand what they were saying. I stopped with Angel, he asked me: “Sir, what’s wrong, why are we stopping?” “Do me a favor Angel, can you stay here? I don’t think it’s safe let me check what’s going on…” then Angel looked at me and nodded.
I got closer to the crowd of costumed mortals to see why they were all gathered in one place. After passing through them, seeing the scene, there was an artifact that moves on wheels, the mortals called a car, but it was in terrible condition, I saw inside a mortal with a wolf mask who is just beginning adulthood and looked disoriented, then my gaze went to a bottle of edible poison that mortals called alcohol next to him. There were others helping him, but when I looked further ahead of the car, I saw him, I saw Angel, but on the ground, motionless, seeing his companions crying, an older mortal hugging the body crying, I think it’s his mother…
At that moment I only went back to Angel, the one who was away from the crowd. He says: “Sir what’s wrong? Can I go with my friends now?” Lowering my head, it turned out that the red spots on his clothes and head under his hat weren't part of the costume. This is the hardest part of my job… “Come on young one, I will show you the way…” How can you explain to a young mortal, I mean a child, about the meaning of being Death...?
3rd Place Winner
The Clock from the Other Side
By: Norberto Santiago Vázquez
The clock hands moved steadily in Professor Marín's study; a scholar known for his obsession with time. Among the antique treasures in his office, one piece stood out for its peculiarity: an old, worn pendulum clock that had never worked properly. The students called it The Clock from the Other Side because of the mysterious Latin inscription at its base: "Tempus non fugit sed manet" Time does not flee but remains.
The stories surrounding the clock were as varied as they were disturbing. Some claimed it had belonged to a 17th-century alchemist; others said it was retrieved from an abandoned cathedral where strange phenomena occurred. But there was one thing everyone agreed on: no one could fix it, and those who tried never made a second attempt. Whispers in forgotten languages, strange shadows, and eerie echoes were just part of the legend.
Clara, a curious quantum physics student, had heard the stories. Yet, her scientific mind dismissed them as mere superstitions. One night after class, she stayed behind in Professor Marín’s study to investigate the clock herself. The hallway lights flickered as she walked, and the echo of her footsteps filled the empty building with an uneasy rhythm.
The clock looked different that night, its aged wood casting a faint, almost imperceptible glow. Clara turned on her recorder, determined to document anything unusual. When the clock struck midnight, an icy chill swept through the room, and the lamp beside her flickered before plunging the space into darkness.
Then, she heard a low whisper, rising from the shadows like a forgotten breath. The words were unrecognizable, yet hypnotic, drawing her closer. Mesmerized, Clara approached the clock, her trembling fingers brushing against the cold glass.
The pendulum stirred unnaturally, abandoning its familiar arc to spin in eerie, deliberate circles, tracing invisible patterns. The clock hands, instead of moving forward, began to tick backward pulling not just through time, but into an endless void of darkness.
As time rewound, Clara’s reflection in the glass began to shift. Her mirrored image moved on its own, staring back with a vacant expression that twisted slowly into a grin a smile that was not hers. Fear gripped her, but her feet felt anchored to the floor, as if the clock itself had rooted her in place.
The whisper grew louder, more insistent, and the walls of the study dissolved into shadows. Clara tried to step away, but the clock pulled her closer, as though her reflection on the other side was reaching out, tugging her into the abyss. Her body seemed to melt into the darkness, and though she wanted to scream, no sound escaped her lips.
When she opened her eyes, she found herself in a distorted version of the study. The room was engulfed in silence, and every object felt slightly off subtly wrong, as if reconstructed from a broken memory. The shadows stretched and twisted unnaturally, and Clara felt an overwhelming sense that she was not alone.
The clock still stood, but its hands now spun wildly out of control. In its glass, Clara saw herself or something resembling her but behind the reflection loomed shadowy figures. They were fragmented, mere silhouettes of people, trapped between time and space, caught forever in the grip of the clock’s curse. They were the others, the ones who had crossed over before her, never to return.
Desperate, Clara tried to manipulate the clock, seeking a way out. But each attempt only pulled her deeper into a nightmarish cycle. Each version of reality she encountered was more distorted than the last. Her heart sank as she realized she was trapped in an endless loop, a prison where time had lost all meaning.
Meanwhile, in the original world, Professor Marín found the clock stopped at midnight. A fresh crack marred the glass. He knew what had happened, but he never spoke of it. Clara, like the others before her, was lost in the folds of time, and he alone held the terrible truth: no one taken by The Clock from the Other Side ever returned.
2nd Place Winner Lord Darkhold
By Alejandro Santiago DeJesús
Oh, Halloween... my favorite holiday. This was going to be the year I would finally have a costume party at my house. Besides the fact that I turned 16, my parents would be out of the house for the weekend, giving me more flexibility to clean and pick up the house. As soon as the weekend before the party arrived, I decided it was time to decorate the house. I went straight to the garage to bring out the spooky decorations: I turned on the dim bulb that illuminated the room and grabbed the ladder to bring down a few boxes. When I got the first box down, I had to blow the dust that had accumulated on them. To my surprise, an envelope I had never seen before fell from the top of the shelf, completely stealing my attention. “Infernal creatures await... screaming in pain... souls...”, was written on the tape that sealed the envelope, in a reddish tone and in a tenebrous typography. Curiosity overwhelmed me and I left everything to discover the contents of the envelope.
I ran upstairs to my room, but it took me longer than usual: since I took the envelope in my hands, the perception I had about time was distorted. It was very strange, I started to feel dizzy and nauseous, but I didn't pay much attention to it. When I got to my room, I locked the door and jumped into bed. I didn't notice the trail I had left on my way to my room, until there was a small puddle of a crimson-like substance on the carpet of my room. I brought my nostrils close to it and a putrid odor flooded my insides. I couldn't help but retch; there was when I realized that my hands seemed to be stained with blood. Horrified, I threw the envelope to the bed, however, I didn't have it with me. I wanted to run out of there, and I tried, but the door was stuck.
Suddenly, a sound coming from my TV brought me out of the trance I was in: a VHS tape was going into the slot, and it was accompanied by a static sound. A supernatural force pulled me to the bed and a pair of sharp claws shut my mouth, making sure that no scream would escape. I felt like I was going to faint: the tape started playing and everything looked black. I was trying to find something in my room that could bring me out of this nightmare, but I was being very naive. The chimes of a clock supplanted the deafening silence that had possessed the room: as the seconds passed, a great weight was closing my eyelids, until, unconsciously, I left that room.
I awoke in a dark and gloomy room, bound hand and foot to a chair, and with a gag in my mouth. A light blindfold covered my eyes, but I could still see several silhouettes in front of me, and most distinctively, a large antique clock at the back of the room, right next to what looked like a door. In addition to a constant shiver, I could feel dozens of gazes on me: eyes made sure to watch me from every possible angle, I could feel them as a cold blast ran down the back of my neck, then my shoulders, then down my spine. I tried to scream, but the paralyzing fear wouldn't let me. In my mind there was only emptiness, the only thing echoing in the room was the desperate ¨tik, tok¨ of the clock. When twelve o'clock struck, a gloomy melody made an appearance: with each chime, the volume became louder and louder, until suddenly, the sound was cut off as if it had run out of
batteries. Again, a mournful silence... but it didn't last long like that: hundreds, thousands of whispers began to be heard and, in turn, reddish, crimson, black eyelids made their appearance. Just when I thought I was going to get up from that nightmare, a pair of sharp claws tore the blindfold from my eyes. The scream I had been holding in for so long escaped: diagonally in front of me were two mirrors pointing in my direction. There were all those eyes, stalking me, but what disturbed me the most was to see how I was looking at myself, with a smile so big that it seemed it would tear my lips and chin. Blood was coming out of my mouth and my eye sockets were empty.
Behind me, a voice as deep and disgusting as the night, pronounced: “Sergei, we just need you to let us in, choose to stay in one of the mirrors and you can leave through that door...”, and bony fingers turned my head towards the door, accompanied by a grotesque laughter. Each letter caused a different vibration... “don't think so much, Sergei, we want to leave this darkness for once...”.
- What do I have to do? - I shouted, desperate to escape from that place.
- Just let us use your body as a vessel, we won't hurt you as much as you think... - he regurgitated from the depths of his entrails.
I didn't think much about it, I just wanted to run away from that place. That melodious voice was invading my consciousness to such an extent that it was coaxing me until I stopped having control over my own body. I don't know when I did it, but my lips pronounced “I accept your proposal, Lord Darkhold”, and I felt freedom. The silhouette reflected in both mirrors changed: now, they were looking at me with a great sorrow. One reflection was crying with agony, and the other was praying for my salvation. Suddenly, I began to lose my vision: first one eye fell, then the other; a foul smell accompanied the act. I brought my left hand to my nose to cover it, but to my surprise, I no longer had one; and, on my face, a big smile was marked, tearing my lips and pulling my jaw out of place. As I bled from my wounds, my body began to levitate, free of all restraints and I started to squirm: my limbs began to lengthen, breaking and reshaping bones; I grew immense musculature and a thick layer of hair so scraggly, it resembled a bed of thorns. My face was lined with a layer of scales and four horns sprouted from my head.
I vomited a sinister cackle, feeling victorious that I had succeeded in tricking another miserable human.
I am Lord Darkhold, the lord of darkness and suffering. I am lurking from every dark corner, waiting for anyone who finds my invitation and accepts it, regardless of the consequences of their actions. You may ask, where is Sergei? Ha ha, he's rotting down there in the purgatory of the naive. I... I stand beside you, watching you with great glee, waiting for you to hear the chimes of my clock and accept my call.
1ST PLACE WINNER HALLOWEEN STORY CONTEST
Was it Me?
By Carolina Colón Hernández
“Tell them where I am Tell them where to find me…”
It was a late Friday night in Gig Harbor, the kind of night where the sky turns into a suffocating black, with rain pounding like ghostly fingers tapping on windows. 11:00 PM. Ivy’s father, Eugene, stood on the front porch, worried. Ivy had not come home from the football game.
“I told her to be back by 9,” he muttered, his voice in a whisper, as if saying it too loudly would summon his worst fears. “Could she still be at the game?” His eyes darted to the clock. 11:15. Pacing back and forth, the porch creaking beneath him, the rain spilling off the roof like tears.
“It’s the last game of the season maybe they’re celebrating…” He spoke. But time kept ticking, and with each minute that passed, an icy dread crept into his bones. Thirty minutes became an hour. Then two.
Finally, grabbing his keys, he bolted to the car, the rain swallowing his footsteps. He drove down the deserted streets. Everything felt too quiet, as if the world was holding its breath. His pulse quickened when he saw it headlights flashing through the storm.
His heart dropped. Ivy’s car.
He slammed on the brakes. He didn’t care about the downpour, or that his clothes were soaked through to his skin. Ivy wasn’t in the car. The doors flung open, seats drenched, but no sign of her. Panic clawed at his chest as he searched, shouting her name into the storm.
Then he heard it an agonized moan drifting through the rain. Her.
Stumbling, he crashed to the ground, pain shooting up his leg. He cursed, but it didn’t stop him, limping forward toward the sound. He gasped when he saw her motionless in the wet grass, her dark hair plastered to her pale face, blood streaming from her head. Gathering her in his arms, her blood warm on his hands. His leg throbbed, he pushed the pain away, focused on only one thing saving his daughter.
Eugene sped through the dark streets toward the hospital, the car swerving on the rain-slicked road, headlights reflecting puddles like ghostly eyes watching his every move. When he arrived, he burst into the emergency room, screaming for help. “Someone, help!”
Doctors rushed Ivy away, leaving Eugene shaking in the waiting room. Time dragged by, each second an eternity. The storm raged on, but inside, all he could hear was the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears.
Finally, the doctor emerged. “She’s stable. The wound on her head is just a scratch, and her concussion, explains the memory loss.” Cops had gone in her room, asking her what happened, but she couldn’t remember.
Eugene exhaled in relief. But something lingered in his mind, an uneasiness he couldn’t shake. What actually happened to her?
Two days later, the house was quiet. Ivy spent most of the time on the couch, resting. Ignoring the doctor’s orders to rest, she grabbed the remote and flipped through channels until a breaking news alert caught her attention.
“A girl named Beth Anderson, a sophomore at Pierce County High, has been missing since last night. She was last seen at the football game but never made it home. If you have any information, please contact authorities.”
Ivy froze. She knew Beth they went to the same school, even shared a class. Confusion clouded her thoughts; she couldn’t remember anything from that night. Just then, her dad walked in and saw the TV.
“Ivy! You shouldn’t be watching that!” he snapped, turning it off, desperately snatching the remote from her hands.
Something was off. She hadn’t been the same since the accident. That evening, Ivy laid on her bed, eyes half-closed, drifting in and out of sleep.
She heard it.
A voice. Faint, but unmistakable. A girl’s voice. “Tell them where I am Tell them where to find me…”
Her eyes snapped open, heart thudding in her chest. She blinked, disoriented, only to see… Beth, standing at the foot of her bed.
Beth’s voice was soft, like a breath carried on the wind. “Tell them where I am He’s moving me…”
Ivy lunged for the light switch. The room flooded with harsh yellow light. But Beth was gone.
“It’s just the concussion,” she told herself, squeezing her eyes shut. The next night, it happened again. Beth, pale and bruised, kept appearing at the edge of her vision, whispering, begging.
“Find me.”
By the third night, Ivy couldn’t take it anymore. She woke in a cold sweat, Beth’s final words echoing in her mind.
“I’m at the shed. Quick, he’s moving me.”
Something inside Ivy snapped. She couldn’t ignore it anymore. Throwing on her coat, she went outside, careful not to wake her father. Stumbling through the darkness, making her way to the old shed near the woods, just a few yards from their home. Its door hung slightly open, a faint light flickering inside.
Ivy’s breath hitched when she saw a figure moving inside. She crept closer, pressing herself against the rough wood, her heart pounding.
She saw him. Her father.
“Dad?” she whispered shakily, stepping forward.
But then she noticed Beth’s lifeless body lying on the floor behind him, her pale face twisted in a final expression of fear. Ivy stumbled back, choking on her breath.
Her father turned; his face grim. “Ivy, you did this. The night I found you she was already in your car. Dead...”
English Olympics
At the UPR Ponce
By: Dr. Jennifer Alicea Castillo
The first ever English Olympics were held on Friday, September 11, 2024. The following six high schools participated at the event:
• Ponce High School
• Jardines de Ponce
• Dr. Pila
• CROEV
• Josefa Vélez Bauzá
• Vocacional Bernardino Cordero
Every school was represented by four students (one per grade). The event consisted of two rounds of exercises related to themes and skills such as grammar, elements of the short story, reading comprehension, poetry, and syntax, among others. During the event’s recess, Prof. Anayarí Batista, Admissions Office chairperson, and Dr. Eva Cabán, Division of Continuing Education and Professional Studies chairperson, presented UPR-Ponce’s academic offerings and special programs and opportunities for high school students.
Dr. Paula Cruz served as the mistress of ceremony and Dr. Lourdes Ortiz was in charge of presenting the exercises. They were excellent, and I am grateful for their collaboration. Also, I want to thank the department professors who served as judges: Dr. Pier Le Compte, Dr. Michelle Méndez, Dr. Edda Rodríguez, Dr. Juan Salomé, Prof. Frances Torres, and Prof. Alejandra Zapata.
The high school participants did an outstanding job. The competition was fierce! Teachers and some parents gave them support during the competition. The winners were:
• 1st prize: CROEV
• 2nd prize: Jardines de Ponce
• 3rd prize: Vocacional Bernardino Cordero
Students from various academic programs helped as ushers for the activity. They were: Firas Daraghma, Yarel Agosto, Leemary Sánchez, Edith Torres, Yiana Báez, Esmeralda Gómez, and Diorimar Zayas. Thank you all!
Finally, I want to thank Mrs. Ileana Torres and Dr. Carmen Nieves, our non-faculty personnel, for their cooperation and support. It was truly an amazing competition full of adrenaline, comradery, and celebration. I can’t wait for next year to celebrate the 2nd English Olympics at UPR-Ponce!
Thank you all for your participation and collaboration in the ENGLISH OLYMPICS at UPRP
See you next year!
Candid Moments at The English Olympics
The participating teams from the schools
THE WINNERS of The First English Olympics at
Candid Moments at The English Olympics
The teachers of the participating schools
The student ushers from UPRP.
The personnel of our UPRP English Department
December 10 HUMAN RIGHTS DAY
By: Dr. Pier Angeli Le Compte Zambrana
December 10, 2024 not only marks the last day of class this semester at the University of Puerto Rico at Ponce, but it is also Human Rights Day.
Human Rights Day is observed every year on December 10 the day the United Nations General Assembly adopted, in 1948, the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR). The UDHR is a milestone document, which proclaims the inalienable rights that everyone is entitled to as a human being –regardless of race, color, religion, sex, language, political or other opinion, national or social origin, property, birth or other status. Available in more than 500 languages, it is the most translated document in the world. (United Nations).
We are certainly living times in which we see inequalities, abuse, oppression, violence, and wars all over the world. As responsible citizens and members of the university community we must think critically about these events; but critical thinking is not just in our minds to be CRITICAL, those thoughts need to be accompanied with action.
Human rights play a critical role as a preventative, protective, and transformative force for good and can empower people and communities to build a better future. The theme for Human Rights Day 2024, “Our rights, our future, right now.” shows how human rights affect people everywhere, every day. Human rights have a tangible positive impact and offer practical solutions. By embracing the full power of human rights as the path to the future we want, the world can become more peaceful and equal
The UPRP community provides service for those in need and we must continue and strengthen these efforts to fight for the rights and dignity of all.
Examine the abbreviated Universal Declaration of Human Rights to find points of intervention:
Article 1 Right to Equality
Article 2 Freedom from Discrimination
Article 3 Right to Life, Liberty, Personal Security
Article 4 Freedom from Slavery
Article 5 Freedom from Torture and Degrading Treatment
Article 6 Right to Recognition as a Person before the Law
Article 7 Right to Equality before the Law
Article 8 Right to Remedy by Competent Tribunal
Article 9 Freedom from Arbitrary Arrest and Exile
Article 10 Right to Fair Public Hearing
Article 11 Right to be Considered Innocent until Proven Guilty
Article 12 Freedom from Interference with Privacy, Family, Home and Correspondence
Article 13 Right to Free Movement in and out of the Country
Article 14 Right to Asylum in other Countries from Persecution
Article 15 Right to a Nationality and the Freedom to Change It
Article 16 Right to Marriage and Family
Article 17 Right to Own Property
Article 18 Freedom of Belief and Religion
Article 19 Freedom of Opinion and Information
Article 20 Right of Peaceful Assembly and Association
Article 21 Right to Participate in Government and in Free Elections
Article 22 Right to Social Security
Article 23 Right to Desirable Work and to Join Trade Unions
Article 24 Right to Rest and Leisure
Article 25 Right to Adequate Living Standard
Article 26 Right to Education
Article 27 Right to Participate in the Cultural Life of Community
Article 28 Right to a Social Order that Articulates this Document
Article 29 Community Duties Essential to Free and Full Development
Article 30 Freedom from State or Personal Interference in the above Rights
“Our rights, our future, right now.”
- Theme for Human Rights Day 2024
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EPIGRAM
Language Bloopers, Blunders, Mistakes, Slip-ups, Mix-ups, Errors, and Gaffes
This is the section in EPIGRAM where we share with you common mistakes sometimes funny, sometimes embarrassing, and many times unforgivable -that people make while trying to communicate in English.
In this installment we have examples of students incorrectly adding –ed to EVERY verb to make it past tense.
Student: “The children singed Christmas carols.”
Professor: “Are you sure they ‘singed’?”
Student: “Yes, Professor; they singed.”
Professor: “SINGED?!!?”
Student: “...Mhmm...”
Professor: “SANG! the CORRECT VERB is SANG!”
Remember there are regular verbs (they take –ed form in past tense, BUT there are IRREGULAR verbs that change differently. Example sing => sang
If you had done what your English teacher told you in third grade and memorized the list of irregular past tense verbs, you would not be in this situation at the university level! Practice your verbs!
Contact
Address:
University of Puerto Rico at Ponce English Department P.O. Box 7186
