Bellerive, Issue 21: Interlude

Bellerive 2020

Issue 21

Cover Art: Blue Afternoon by Nonni Adams

Pierre Laclede Honors College

University of Missouri–St. Louis

Staff Acknowledgments

ART

NonniAdams* & Brianna Petty

EDITING

Molly Motes*, Shelley Pittman, & Cat Hill

LAYOUT

Cullen Landolt* & Justus Naumann

FACULTY ADVISOR

Geri Friedline

* Denotes committee chair

Current and past copies of Bellerive issues are available to purchase for $7 each or two for $12.To purchase, contact Geri Friedline at (314) 516-7874 or via email at friedlineg@umsl.edu.Alternatively, visit theTriton Bookstore. Please note that limited copies are available for each issue, and once they have all been sold, no further copies will be produced.

All University of Missouri–St. Louis students, faculty, staff, and alumni are invited to submit original creative works that have not been previously published. Submissions are accepted from March 1 through October 1.We invite eligible individuals to submit up to 5 poems, up to 2 prose pieces (each at 4,000 words or less), up to 5 digital images of photography/art, and up to 2 original music works (as audio files).

To learn more about submitting to Bellerive, inquire at BelleriveSubmit@umsl.edu or visit www.facebook.com/BellerivePublication.

Submissions review is a blind process.Submitters’names are not disclosed during review. The new issue of Bellerive is launched at a reception in Provincial House each February. This open reception also kicks off the next issue’s submission period.

Offered every fall, the Bellerive Workshop course is open to Pierre Laclede Honors College students interested in all aspects of producing Bellerive.The class focuses on all steps of publishing: reading and selecting works to be included, copy editing, communicating with submitters, designing layout, digital image editing, and marketing and selling of the publication. Individuals in the class choose which areas of contribution best suit their interests and talents.

facebook.com/BellerivePublication

Table of Contents

v Introduction

1 MALIK LENDELL | Sow

2 L.H. VARNEY | Sidewalk Weather

3 BRIANNA PETTY | Tears from Above

4 AMAN CHISHTI | Green Girl

6 TAYLOR WEINTROP | Seed by Seed

7 NOELLE MCGUIRE | beauté naturelle

8 B. READY | Induction into The Secret Society of Tiresian Seers

9 JESSIE EIKMANN | No Hounds (For the Young Artemis)

10 NONNI ADAMS | Blue Afternoon

11 SEAIRA LETT | Shh

12 KIANA | The Tempest

13 MALIK LENDELL | The Symphony

14 NATHANIEL HUNTON | Orient Me

15 TAYLOR WEINTROP | questionable faith

16 MOLLY MOTES | Lost in Another World

17 NONNI ADAMS | [I want a love like the Für Elise...]

18 CAT HILL | You Deserved a Piano

20 BRE E. | Equal Respsonsibility

21 SAMANTHA FAIRCHILD | Dancing With Color

22 C.J. ACOSTA | The Duality of Tears

23 B. READY | The Land of Wannabe

33

46 BOBBY MEILE | The deviled eggs whisper to me

47 EMILY DICARLO | Declaration of War

49 MELANIE GUZMAN | Squirrel Monkey

50 CULLEN LANDOLT | micromorts

52 NOELLE MCGUIRE | ami de l’homme

53 AMAN CHISHTI | Distance

54 DANA PIERSON | Kingshighway

55 BRIANNA PETTY | Focus 56 AMAN CHISHTI | Today, and Every Day Before It

57 KAI PERRY | stary lora

58 GERI FRIEDLINE | Gold Rush

60 NOELLE MCGUIRE | La Barrière

ALLISON

Introduction

With great pleasure, I introduce Interlude, a collection of creative and artistic works that offer a welcoming space to pause and ponder, enjoy respite and refreshment, and take a welcome break between the choruses and verses of daily life.

From cover to cover our featured authors, artists, and musicians have filled this space with sights, sounds, drama, and humor that reflect the darkness and the light of the outside world, but at the same time remind us of the resilience and imaginings of our inside world. Each work in this collection lives up to the title Interlude, by reminding us that we can manage the doors and windows of our lives, and that pausing and opening them can be both peaceful and productive.

Though this year our inside world has been particularly challenged by outside world events that led to lock downs, social distancing, and other strange and disorienting experiences, this book reminds us that art provides a passage for liberation, human connections, and familiar and comforting shared experiences.Through art, the indomitable human spirit continues to shape and create the world.

As we celebrate Issue 21, I’ll take my own brief interlude to reflect on statements made in my introduction for Issue 20: “We are in this together” and “You have taken Bellerive and our readers to new heights.” Creating this book has left me with fresh understanding of these words and deeper admiration for our submitters and staff members.

Thank you to all those who made Interlude possible—those behind the scenes, those starring on the pages, and those who created the amazing book you hold in your hands.Thank you Nonni, Cullen, Molly, Justus, Bri, Shelley, and…Cat for a truly memorable experience.

Interlude is a perfect entry to a new decade of Bellerive.When you’re ready for a break—Come on in!

MALIK LENDELL

the time of daisies; the hand preparing the earth. there, my first lessons.

L.H. VARNEY

Sidewalk Weather

watching the rain fall through the streetlight

if not for wet hair and wet feet

i might think, there is the only place the water touches

Tears from Above

BRIANNA PETTY

Green Girl

My name means peace in Persian. Impure serenity. It sings water through sterile swaths of desert; it asks you if you’ve eaten breakfast today. It means kiss-stained laughter— an open wound. A green girl’s green dream.

My mother named me for strength. Pretty doesn’t matter when a healthy baby follows the corpse of a fetus, the length of his little body inverted as if in prayer. The imprecise geometry of memory flickers between his heaving sternum and my still one.

Two bells like her childhood springwater— her comfort from the tender tissue of grief, untainted sweetness against mourning. Love is a red-running casualty.

In my head

my name is weightless— one solitary, languid limb bringing me to the world’s doorstep warm and wanting. It is a red-purple artery rupture; it is a clean procession through clouds.

Outside it is ugly. I am accustomed to the disgraceful arch of mispronunciation— a black hole, an altar for the jilted. I hear it like birdsong in foreign airports. I taste it like the dense bloom of virtue.

The world would rename me something more graceful. Feminine, more compassionate— softer around the edges. I’d be easier to swallow then and wouldn’t the world love that.

Seed by Seed

The art of becoming requires learning to be fluent in natural disasters.

With embers in our veins and thunderstorms in our eyes— drought by drought we are learning the value in planting the garden, even when faith runs dry.

The art of becoming can mean wandering adrift. A tangled process of wavering and weaving, revisiting and revising shelved dreams.

Sprout by sprout we begin to recognize that we are rarities— endangered species composed of wildfire hankerings.

So, become like the tree with strong roots laughing at the winds that cannot see the beauty in falling leaves.

Induction into The Secret Society of Tiresian Seers

Be my Christina, my palindrome born of doubled yolk. My, you are as slight as I am bold; the unearthed strap begs fitting. It’s not what you think—well, unless you are thinking the same thing: to be arranged as naturally as seven symbols set symmetrically. Save, when the mirror hits me, I accept: balanced equations rest, oddly, both relieved and unrelieved.

JESSIE EIKMANN

No Hounds (For the Young Artemis)

We can carry on our backs a quiver of “no”s in every language, every idiom poised to fly past our faces, deliver poison, but what good is it if, to them, cum is muscle & antidote? & the back-up plan? The stag thing? Now they have antlers, honey, multi-pronged penises to scan your skin for weak spots.The banter just stalls them, feeds them, gives them hope. Trust me, the hunters I’ve caught peeking at my nakedness wouldn’t hesitate to grope harder if not for the shrieking, piss, vomit, the various defenses that lurk beneath.The one in the park responded not to protests or winces but a desperate sprint in the half-dark with pants still pulled down to the shins. The one at the club even more brazen, using liquor to sneak his way in my clothes, rough fingers appraising my breastbone, almost nipple—until I spewed salad remnants on the rug & he suddenly lost the will, slithering away like the filthy slug he was. My point is, if you’re going to run, the forest won’t hide you.Try the garage, & make sure there’s something worth throwing in there. Give him a barrage of hammers, nails, pickaxe to the chest, because in this story there are no hounds, or if there are, they come at his behest foaming, snarling, & determined to surround you. It is your ankles that must fear the teeth, your ears assaulted with the hiss of go ahead & shoot that arrow,dear; it’s just a pointy kiss.

Shh

Our secret love is like a whisper

Practically silent, it snuck up behind me and slowly I perceived its presence as its sweet scent approached me, passing over my shoulder and I turned To see its source: her smooth skin, Warm like the spring afternoon as I survey a sunlit lake, pretending to search for something in the glistening sand, but in my mind I fixate On her soft eyes, Shy and sincere they stare towards me, hesitant circles the shade of two shots of espresso that restore me after a sleepless night in solitude of fantasizing About her silky lips, Suddenly she kisses me with them and they whisper in my ear a secret not seeking to be seen, serenely it stays behind her shut door and waits For silence, Discreetly she extinguishes it as she sings me to sleep, her voice a cautious song sparrow clinging to a sprig of cedar as the sound fills me With the sensation of peace.

Our love is patience and practically silent like a secret softly whispered between shy and sincere girls not seeking to be seen, Showing restraint and serenely staying put until the door is shut and the lock is secured. In just seconds I must disappear, But each time I inhale, its sweet scent remains, and practically silent I whisper our secret to the crisp spring evening, so discreet I’m sure that no one sees.

MALIK LENDELL

The Tempest

Somber clouds of disappointment

Replace strange rays of Golden bliss a breeze like a whisper

Comes from the west, the trees take on a dark, Ominous face the Dying grass cowers in the foreboding winds; it

Comprehends what is

Soon to come

Nature glows against the Blackened heavens the Thunder resounds the Lightening slashes the Rain falls.

The Symphony

His hands fluttered in the air as they conducted an orchestra of raindrops and thunder.A cackle frilled up his spine and a crack of light frayed the cloudy sky.The rain stirred and it pattered on the concrete and grass.The bellowing thunder complemented the rain’s arrhythmic melody. Perhaps, his summoning worked as he waved more intensely in the air like a lunatic conductor of a prestige. He marveled at his masterpiece.

He believed himself to be a talented artist (as anyone who could control the weather would). He kept waving his imaginary baton, and imagined violas, violins, and cellos layering upon this already magnificent composition. He was not finished. He threw his hands in the air to prepare for a finale. He had it all planned out.

But it was too late.The rain stopped.The clouds cleared. His arms fell and dangled to his sides.

NATHANIEL HUNTON

TAYLOR

WEINTROP

questionable faith

I don’t know much about religion. I am a hybrid of half-filled cups, 2/4 lost, 1/4 observer, and 1/4 cynical. My parents tried, but neither judaism nor christianity ever had the right answers for my questions or any answers at all for that matter.

I figured faith was a fallacy.

The trivial does not serve me. I do not care whether the chicken or the egg came first, instead I want to know why no one can answer me this; which occurred first, the word of god, or the man that wrote the word of god then convinced everyone that god created us.

Sometimes I wonder if I will be going to hell for being a “bad jew” or “failed christian.” I question what hell even looks like for a non-believer.

I have a feeling it doesn’t look much different than the world we already inhabit.

Monsters pass by us on the streets every day, is it so much to assume I have no reason to be scared?

For now, I am keeping my head attached to my body, and my faith rooted in the Earth. I’m tired of interrogating god. Tired of my inquiries disguised as prayers getting tangled in the tree branches above my head. So, I stopped aiming them towards the sky.

NONNI ADAMS

Lost in Another World

I want a love like the Für Elise

To flow past fingertips in perfect harmony that’s left on the edge

Watching and waiting for the dive into a downward spiral

Knowing it will rise again, Only to fall

He speaks a foreign tongue and with gusto shouts, “We’re walking on water,” as ice cracks and soft slacks

A breeze blew past my easel and we danced.

Dew drops cartwheel blades of grass

My body sticks to the mattress.

I wonder if I am decaying.

She huffs the words beautiful and ridiculous in the same tune

Those who are happy find solace in the most ridiculous of things

Now where does beautiful fit in?

Shadows rest on the man’s trench coat beside me

I wonder why he frowns with such bitterness

Do you not see the smile on her lips as she dares not look at you

The way his hand finds grips on dips between metal and face

She told me next time the sky is grey to look into her eyes

But to wish a cloudy day is a waste.

He tells me every day he falls more and more in love with music

And less and less with me

I write poetry you see

And he says,“it was beautiful, is that what art is like?”

The way you look at me, It is without.

I finally speak words, While he speaks is a monotonous nothing, And then it falls together in perfect harmony.

[I want a love like the Für Elise…]

You Deserved a Piano

I don’t know how to start this, Something‘bout two years later, or maybe just too late. You know what they say about hindsight; well, now I see clearly. And I can’t kiss you in the rain; They say that’s vain, and maybe it’s true, But just the same, I’d take the chance to.

I put you through hell, and well, I’m hoping That you’re openTo finding heaven with me. So, I’m sorry.

[Chorus]

Let me sit by you at the piano, play the one I know. I know I never told you, but you wrote my favorite song. Can we start over? Pause it and rewind. Make up for lost time, Because time has made me forget how you smiled When I said your first name wrong. Well, I’ve changed, and if I have just this song to prove those words… Well, I play guitar, but you deserved a piano. You deserved a piano

Said I was fine when you asked me, And I said, “Fuck you!”Well, trust me, I was a mess. That’s timing, I guess we go back and forth; so—tag—you’re it.

Well, stupid girls say stupid things, and diamond boys, They offer diamond rings.

Well, stupid girls wake up and end up at diamond doorsteps.

And I’m using these metaphors and pretty stories; They say it better for me, but I miss you.

[Repeat Chorus]

Well, I’ve said it now, so you can shut it down Or get on out of here with me. Give me a moment, or just a little while, or even just a smile; Something to remember you by, Maybe some memories to remember you by. Don’t leave me with just goodbye; well...another goodbye.

I never sat by you at the piano; you wanted me to, I know. I know I never told you, but you wrote my favorite song. Can we start over? Pause it and rewind. Make up for lost time, Because time has made me forget how you smiled

When I said your first name wrong. Well, I’ve changed, and I have just this song to prove those words, and It’s not any good, but you deserved a piano. You deserved a piano

Equal Responsibility

Am I a gaudy candle that sits on your mantle?

Upon the ledge I sit; do you recognize my beauty? How about my worth?

I am a placeholder for something better. You’ve made that clear.

When the time comes: you’re going to throw me in a box.

Either you’ll tuck me away, in the attic of your mind Or rid me from your history.

I think it’s the latter, since you lit the wick.

Burning bright and quick, I am hot wax dripping down brick.

What a mess we’ve both made.

Dancing With Color

The Duality of Tears

that thing we’re all supposed to learn when we read about the conch or about Kurtz

the duality the loss of innocence

or well, that thing we were supposed to learn

maybe you were like me and could always guess the endings to the sad stories so you never read them.

you never learned

like me, you had to live your life you had to see those things the duality of man and the loss of innocence

you saw it in the red and blue aisles in DC you watched it unfold on the streets of Saint Louis most importantly, you saw it in the mirror

you learned that you were capable of love and hate

you were capable of ignorance and brilliance

The Land of Wannabe

you learned that every gorgeous sunset meant the end of a beautiful day and that sunset leads to night

the night where monsters and shadows blend in with the darkness, where fear is easily overwhelming.

that same night has its own terrifying beauty. its beauty in the stars, in the sounds of the trees and branches falling in the void we call “nighttime”

its beauty in the bright and inconstant moon

the moon that controls the tides of the world and the tides of our emotions, if you let her.

and then you cry and weep at the mosaic of color reflecting off the skyscraper during a sunrise you weep and wipe the tears away and you wonder

am I crying for the new day? or the beauty of the colors?

or am I crying because the terrifying beauty of night is over?

We don’t bell curve or Punnett square box people.We will not control group or gather data or hypothesize.Today’s answers will not fit where we’ve stretched by tomorrow.We know that correlation need not infer causation, that time is a construct, and that there are devils in every dimension.We will have no has been will be—only what is.All Derrida aside, maybe radical acceptance, maybe fanatical defiance; but, ultimately, provocation must come from within and not from outsiders impostering absolutes.We breathe for ourselves, when where and how.We join and disjoin. Go big or melt down. Shine or swallow. But we do be all or nothing volitiously. It is a taste impossible to forget which is why you cannot visit; only stay. Once your memory learns the alternative of an unsentenced life, leaving would be no more possible than a return to wearing your first pair of shoes.

C.J. ACOSTA

SAMANTHA FAIRCHILD

The Day My Life Changed

DANA PIERSON

She A Found Poem

Now she—she did not think herself a genius by any means, for that title was claimed by the smart but kind husbands of her day.

Rather she—she was the voice of inspiration her husband stifled, sweet tempered and—well,

She says—she writes but a few words on the matter, since—if a woman is the heart of compromised affairs, Then would not a woman’s poem, upset a man’s world?

KAYLA DANIELSON

Dragonfly

you are made of wildflower honey— southern pecan creamer and lavender eddies that illuminate when waltzing with sunlight your courage consists of moon dust and meteors curiosity and creativity f l o w through your veins like the milky way yet you stay grounded as roots flourish in your bones and flower petals fall from your fingertips

bravery becomes you waves of azure sea inhabit your eyes beneficence is built by the lighthouse in your heart while self-realization stands in the ever-expanding abyss that although deep— never remains murky

freedom rests on the wings of dragonflies whose ancestors built cities in your soul on foundations of happiness and made you Eternal—

MELANIE GUZMAN

DANA PIERSON

Colored Embers

so a god be damned America ain’t too beautiful her eyes bleed age-old rotten Confederacy but—wait Missouri lines, ties shoot down Ozark trials, bail Miss—iss—ippi!

loud, proud tainted colored rye burning throats black boy young, only begun breathe—masked—stature of light colored embers heroes of anAmerica beautiful.

NATHANIEL HUNTON

Lane Ends, Merge Left

What if I want to merge right? Hmm?

Maybe I want to turn away

From the latest batch of semis and tailgaters

And just go over here into this cornfield

Get out and stand in the sun

Take in the blue sky and the circling hawk

Admire the cornstalks and through them reach Deep into the cycle of life

But it would be unfair to the farmer

Who probably lives in perpetual debt as it is

For some nut to drive a Honda through his crop

And the ditch wouldn’t be kind to my tires

So I’ll merge left

For now.

This time.

An American Summer

Beating drums and gunshots ring the sky ablaze from restless flames. Death to the American dream— a fallacy of broken promises, the false narrative pushed throughout history. Equality is an old wives’ tale bleeding through the textbook seams.

We were taught to respect the badges and the lying congressmen. Told to idolize the greedy businesses turning deaths into dollar signs and marketing ploys.

We are chanting “SAYTHEIR NAMES” as lady liberty cries at the senseless deaths starting to mound at her feet. There can never be justice in a concaved society— where race makes someone more or less than those that stole this god forsaken land.

With ruthless vigor we fight day and night. Star spangled battered bleeding and bruised, enough of the white man telling us which version of history is true.

Omitted killings and nameless faces linger in these American cities. Graveyards of children who only dared to dream. Is this really America— land of life, liberty, and the free? Is this what the founding fathers meant when they wrote “all men are created equal” only to keep stolen men and women on a leash?

This was the summer of silent cicadas because it was our turn to sing. No justice no peace, we will say their names until America truly is the land of the free.

BLM 2020

MADISON BEIRNE

A Velvet Rope of Exclusion

DEFININGTHE DELMAR DIVIDE

What difference does a mile make?That’s 5,280 feet. If you are a child born in St. Louis, one mile can change the trajectory of your life. The zip code where a child lives is a great predictor. It will likely predict the child’s race, the family’s income, and it often determines where they go to school.The interesting thing is, St. Louisans know that location predicts quality of life. In fact, we have a physical boundary that sections off prosperity from disparity like a velvet rope. Delmar Boulevard is a street that runs through the heart of the city. Locals know it as “The Delmar Divide,” a not-so-imaginary line that defines the boundaries of poverty and splices communities by color.

North of Delmar, 98% of the population is black, the median home value is $73,000, and life expectancy is 67 years. South of Delmar, 73% of the population is white, the median home value is $335,000, and life expectancy is 85 years (Strasser, 2012).These facts are no surprise to people who drive along Delmar and witness the palpable shift.Why does a mile make such a big difference in the lives of children, specifically in regard to their education? Finding an answer requires examination of the causes of the Delmar Divide and how it created pockets that continue to marginalize students of color. Research reveals a history of an education system created intentionally to benefit some and exclude others evident in the form of literacy rates, disciplinary actions, zip code demographics, mortgage lending rates, and many other metrics.These findings unearth a deeply rooted history that continues to impact students.

THE HISTORY OF RACISM AND SEGREGATION IN ST. LOUIS

Our schools are more segregated today than they were in 1968. How did this happen? It should not be a surprise that we are here. Let’s talk about history. Missouri was established as a state in 1821 as a result of the Missouri Compromise in 1820 as a bargaining chip to keep the peace between the North and South in the Senate. Missouri entered as a slave state. Fast forward to 1856 when St. Louis was the center of a court case involving an enslaved black man named Dred Scott who was appealing for his freedom.The case went to the Supreme Court, where a judge ruled that black people, whether free or enslaved, are not

considered citizens by the Constitution (Graber, 2006). Continue moving forward just shy of the 20th century, and we see that separate but equal is lawful in Plessy v. Ferguson and segregation is legal.This pattern continued in St. Louis afterWorldWar II as veterans are returned home. Black residents were met with racial covenants and redlining that prevented them from living on certain blocks and forced them into smaller, dilapidated areas.

Brown v. Board was taken to the Supreme Court in 1954, and suddenly, separate was not equal anymore. Schools were advised to desegregate “with all deliberate speed” and yet, many did not attempt to desegregate until forced years later. It is not a surprise that schools remain segregated today.This system is functioning exactly in the way it was intended when it was created: to benefit white children and exclude black children from those same opportunities.

THE CREATION OFTHE DELMAR DIVIDE

The history of systemic racism in St. Louis does not happen in a vacuum.We cannot speak entirely in the past tense when talking about this history because a lot of the same issues pervade society today.The Delmar Divide was not an accidental byproduct; on the contrary, this velvet rope of exclusivity was created with intention.As formerly enslaved people and their families began to flee the Jim Crow laws of the South during the Great Migration, there was another migration occurring: white flight from the city to the county.These migratory patterns furthered segregation in housing.

Mortgage denial was a common practice that lenders used to coerce black families into certain neighborhoods in the city. Racial covenants were employed by white neighbors to “stand in solidarity” so that no person of color would be welcome on their block.These racially biased practices were both purposeful and intentional.What is so fascinating is that “many homes north of the Delmar Divide that are valued at $2,000 are structurally identical to those south of the divide that are worth hundreds of thousands of dollars” (Abello, 2019).The history of mortgage lending displays that race was a key factor in where residents would live.Where individuals live is where they are likely to go to school. So, there is a strong connection between segregation in housing and segregation in schools.

ATTEMPTS AT INTEGRATION

Students go to the school located in their neighborhood by default. If children live in a zip code that was intentionally redlined, then

their school will most likely be under-resourced, underfunded, and understaffed. Research shows that black children are five times as likely as their white counterparts to go to a highly segregated school (Garcia, 2020).

A concerned St. Louis mother witnessed the lack of resources at her son’s neighborhood school and wanted him to have a better opportunity for an education. In 1972, Minnie Liddell and other concerned African American families filed a lawsuit against the Board of Education for the City of St. Louis demanding equal opportunity and access to education for their children.The case would lead to theVoluntary Interdistrict Choice Corporation bussing program that gave individual black families three choices: stay in their neighborhood school, choose an integrated city magnet school, or participate in the transfer program (Heaney & Uchitelle, 2004, p. 129).This program sought to provide children in the city with the option to go to the county for “a better education.” Black children in the city were shown that if they wanted to go to schools that were resourced and funded, they needed to wake up extremely early and take an hour-long bus ride out of their neighborhood and into the predominantly white county schools. Some more lessons emerged from this practice: opportunity did not exist in their neighborhoods, our system believed white education is the “better education,” and they must sacrifice sleep, time, and identity to go to a resourced school. A crucial element to discuss when talking about integration is the terminology used to describe it. Using the word “desegregation” may invoke feelings of antiquity tied to the Jim Crow era. Cobb (2014) says, “Today, we are more likely to talk of diversity—but diversification and desegregation are not the same undertakings.To speak of diversity, in light of this country’s history of racial recidivism, is to focus on bringing ethnic variety to largely white institutions, rather than dismantling the structures that made them so white to begin with.” While white folks in power might prefer to use a softer term like “diversity,” this is simply adding in black or brown children physically without regarding their social, cultural, or emotional needs.

Diversity is measurable, but inclusion is a feeling.The question remains: is today really all that different from 1954? “For the tragedy of this moment is not that black students still go to overwhelmingly black schools, long after segregation was banished by law, but that they do so for so many of the same reasons as in the days before Brown” (Cobb, 2014). Reaching the feeling of inclusivity requires much more than physical integration. St. Louis schools today are disproportionately funded and the children who need it most are being left behind.

THE CURRENT STATE OF ST. LOUIS SCHOOLS

Did bussing work? Let us address this question by first making meaning of it. If “work” means did it occur, then yes.The program began in 1983, but by 1998, a total of 14,500 students, the maximum number, were transferred to the county. If “work” means did it end segregation in schools, the answer is a resounding no.As we know,America’s schools are more segregated today than they were in the late 1960s. Bussing was a one-way street. No white county students were going to school in the city.

Meanwhile, the students of color who entered the county school faced new kinds of challenges. Being one of few black students in a white space can be a jarring and uncomfortable experience. Statistically, 80% of our nation’s teachers are white. Current findings conclude that implicit bias is an issue that all educators face, and the lack of training impacts outcomes (Anderson, 2019). Racism permeated the county schools where many black students described feeling alienated or isolated (Heaney & Uchitelle, 2004).We should not dismiss the power of crossracial relationships for students, however.There is a strong tie to educational outcomes when students are integrated. Breslow,Wexler, & Collins (2014) argue that “integration doesn’t just mean access to better schools, it can also mean a better chance of earning a degree…for every year a black student attended an integrated school, their likelihood of graduating went up 2 percentage points.The longer that student stayed in school, the greater his odds.” Research also supports that while there are numerous benefits for students of color in inclusive settings, white student’s achievement rates are virtually unaffected (Brooks, 2013). Whether or not children of color are in their periphery, white students will continue to find success in standardized test scores and aptitude tests.

School is often the first institution that an American child will experience. Let’s be frank, school is a bureaucracy and it is a business. In Missouri, the state and federal government as well as school districts fund schools using a formula, yet those students in North St. Louis are chronically and drastically underfunded. Findings conclude that the racial composition of schools is the indicating factor for funding gaps (White, 2015).

Compare the funding metrics for a school in Clayton, a wealthy county suburb just outside of city limits, to the funding metrics for the entire St. Louis Public School District.The revenue per pupil in Clayton is 43% higher (Missouri Comprehensive Data System, 2020).Property taxes are used in the formula for school funding.The higher the value of homes, the higher the funding is for the district.The housing disparities

that exist between North City and South City and the gap between the entire city and county is just as stark. If housing is so enmeshed in systemic racism, why is that a part of the funding formula?Again, it all comes back to that real estate adage, “location, location, location.” This phrase connects back to the point that this system is not actually broken, because it is carrying out its intended function with ease. This truly encapsulates the difference one mile can make.

This difference is further exemplified when we compare two schools in proximity to Delmar Boulevard. Captain Elementary is 1.15 miles South of Delmar Boulevard. Ford Elementary is one mile north of Delmar Blvd. Children who are born just 5,280 feet north of a street have a completely different life ahead of them than children who live 5,280 feet south.That is not fair to any child.

EQUITY IN EDUCATION

People have spent a lot of time clarifying this problem of inequity in education. People have considered research, had a quick history lesson, and talked numbers. Equity in education is more than research or numbers though. Equity in education is about human lives and more so, the lives of black and brown children in St. Louis. Many terms are thrown around to describe positive recommendations for schools. Some include equality, diversity, social justice, restorative justice, and equity. Equality is treating everyone the same and diversity is the physical presence of people of color.These optical examples will no longer suffice to serve students of color.The chosen word here is equity because it goes beyond equality and diversity. Equity is a shared value of justice so that students are given what they need.

Students of color often need more than white students because “schools where poverty is concentrated are systematically associated with numerous barriers to educational equity, including high rates of teacher and staff turnover, outdated and unchallenging curricula, limited extracurricular offerings, low achievement and poor graduation rates” (Orfield et al., 2012, p. 39).This is not to say that St.Louisans are powerless to assist in establishing equitable education.There is hope.

According to Orfield et al. (2012), “many things can be done, at all levels of government and in thousands of communities, to move towards a new vision of educational and social equity” (p. 84).To overcome years of systemic racism in housing and education requires a lot of passion, practice, and persistence.

One of the first steps is creating awareness.This will lead to advocacy and ideally, will change policy at the local, state, and federal levels to support these students. Students should all have the right to quality

education.The fight for equity will involve schools, teachers, families, churches, non-profits, community institutions, organizations, foundations, neighborhoods, and government to all come together and find the same courage that created this system to dismantle it.

On a macro level, it is not surprising that this educational system benefits the wealthy and white children when it was created to serve those very people foundationally. On a mezzo level, the “achievement gap” is perpetuated by a lack of resources to primarily black and brown schools.These schools often rely on the generosity of others to supply their classrooms with desks, books, and basic supplies. Property taxbased funding exacerbates this gap. On a micro level, school is the first institution that children experience. Historically, this institution was not created equal, or with black and brown children in mind. Every individual child should have the right to an equal education, otherwise the system cannot be described as democratic, public, or just. One mile should not determine the quality of a child’s life.

References

Abello, O. P. (2019,August 19). BreakingThrough and Breaking Down the Delmar Divide in St. Louis. Retrieved May 19, 2020, from https://nextcity.org/fea tures/view/breaking-through-and-breaking-down-the-delmar-divide-in-stlouis

Anderson,T. (2019, February 28). School segregation, then and now. Retrieved from http://www.stlamerican.com/news/local_news/school-segregation-thenand-now/article_ff31161a-3ae7-11e9-b097-1bc6a45598c9.html

Breslow, J. M.,Wexler, E., & Collins, R. (2014, July 15).The Return of School Segre gation in Eight Charts. Retrieved from https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/front line/article/the-return-of-school-segregation-in-eight-charts/ Brooks, J. S. (2013).Antiracist School Leadership:Toward Equity in Education for America’s Students. Information Age Publishing.

Cobb, J. (2014,April 16).The Failure of Desegregation. Retrieved from https://www.newyorker.com/news/news-desk/the-failure-of-desegrega tion

Garcia, E. (2020, February 12). Schools are still segregated, and black children are paying a price.Retrieved from https://www.epi.org/publication/schoolsare-still-segregated-and-Black-children-are-paying-a-price

Graber, M.A. (2006). Dred Scott and the problem of constitutional evil. Cambridge: Cambridge UP.

Heaney, G.W., & Uchitelle, S. (2004). Unending struggle: the long road to an equal education in St. Louis. St. Louis, MO: Reedy Press.

Missouri Comprehensive Data System: School Report Card. (2020). Retrieved July 14, 2020, from https:/apps.dese.mo.gov/MCDS/Reports/SSRS_Print.aspx?Reportid= 94388269-c6af-4519-b40f-35014fe28ec3

Orfield, G., Kucsera J., & Siegel-Hawley, G. (2012, September). E Pluribus Separa tion (Rep.). Retrieved from https://civilrightsproject.ucla.edu/research/k12-education/integration-and-diversity/mlk-national/e-pluribus...separa tion-deepening-double-segregation-for-morestudents/orfield_epluribus_revised_omplete_2012.pdf

Strasser, F. (2012). Crossing a St. Louis street that divides communities. Retrieved May 18, 2020, from https://www.bbc.com/news/av/magazine17361995/crossing-a-stlouis-street-that-divides-communities

White, G. B. (2015, September 30).The DataAre Damning: How Race Influences School Funding.Retrieved from https://www.theatlantic.com/business/archive/2015/09/public-schoolfunding-and-the-role-of-race/408085/

Bottle Pop Blues

When Emptiness Prevailed

I want to feel, I think, I can’t.

Bubs & suds

Lime juice, just right I only go out if you’re with me

Like embers in my stomach, warm Replenish my hearth, fill me with fuel

Give me the power to waltz, to scream and be a force of nature with you, shouldn’t this wind feel colder? Smoke doesn’t burn, you’re inside, we’re outside, feels like a dream. I’m spinning. Why does fire taste so good if it burns my throat? The pit of ash in my soul, the falsest feeling of hope Candy treat, so sickly sweet, I’ll consider the regret later, too late, when you painfully force your way. How have I not learned our little dance yet, clueless I’ve started mixing you around with others, potions, I’m a witch. No, but I am corrupted.And I like it. Corrupt me all you like, until the end of the night. It is true. I want to escape so badly, to run away, You’re cheap and you’re filling, a plane ticket is neither. So until that time, this round is on me.

Berries and Vanilla

I can’t watch that sitcom anymore. Do Jeff and Britta end together or do they throw some plot twist? I can’t watch it, I’ll just pause it to call you And tell you something I will just apologize for. That ice-cream drive-thru was my favorite place; Now I think that I might’ve forgotten the taste. It just feels weird, not like I miss you or I wish you were here. But the other night, I found a perfume and the scent brought me back to October. You and I, and blueberry wine spilled on your shirt, I’m sure you wished that I was sober. I’ve had that bottle forever but still the blackberries and vanilla Takes me back to those better times.

[Chorus]

Like your sheets in the morning

Or your backseat when it’s pouring down rain. It’s the same perfume I wore the first date and the last Oh and all the time that passed between the two. You said berries and vanilla smelled like me... Now they smell like you.

I swear to god I’ve come to hate

The road to the park bench looking over the lake.

That’s where you’d hold me; that’s where you told me that Distance got old and we could start again. But speaking of that lake, I know that you took her there the very next day, And I’m sure she loved it and found it enough that You barely showed up If you showed up in the end. Well, I found your sweater in the closet and It smelled like the candles in your room, Your hands in theTV light, and my perfume.

[Repeat Chorus]

You turned the silver linings into blues, You ruined silver BMWs. Trade the vanilla for some new perfume: “Product free of memories”

[Repeat Chorus]

They smell like you, Berries and vanilla smell like me, but I smell like you. So...now they smell like you.

Cloudy vs. Clear Thoughts

Anemone dance under pixie pirouettes as dew crystals glisten in my brow— a midsummer sultry.

My pronounced jaw, frigid with anticipation, speaks a soliloquy from breath to ear.

My tensed muscles trace skin. I give a disheveled whimper.

Ripples now parade my gilded mane; A taut, bleached complexion is all that remains.

A penumbra fell over my tortured gleam. Mutilated by lust, I sculpt my self-rotting body.

Sanguis.Mortis.

BOBBY MEILE

Declaration of War

of knowledge, of power, of glory, if only I lean in close and heed their words. “You don’t have to do everything we tell you to,” the deviled eggs suggest.

“Listen to our advice, reflect on what we say, and reject it if you feel we lead you astray.”

Unsure of what to do, I consult with the angel and devil food cakes on my shoulders, avatars of my conscience. One of them reassures me that the eggs speak true. The other regretfully concedes that the eggs do speak true, but maintains that not all truths are hard boiled, that mustard and paprika can mask a fouler taste.

Knees weak. Eyes shut. I swallow, the texture firm, with a hint of brimstone on my tongue. The screams, for me to stop and reconsider, are muffled, grow faint, go out of hearing, are still felt somewhere deep inside.

Many years have passed since the last uprising.The youth of the western land of the county who had once run amok, clean heads scorched in the sun with their blades swinging wildly, have forgotten their now rusted weapons buried in the hearts of their homes. Now those youth settle for their mundane chores; taming small house-beasts, teaching their offspring the proud old art of folding laundered garments, and participating in the ancient tradition of pitting energetic children against each other for sport.

On such an occasion, sweat strips spray tan off of Helen’s sharp, angled cheek; the finest surgical-sculptor spent hours emulating the features of the fairest woman in the land, known by the name of Angelina Jolie, to remake Helen in just the same fashion. Her golden hair spills to her shoulders in perfect ringlets from the elastic ribbon tied at the peak of her head. Her lips painted to match the rosy tint of her blush are pursed in outraged, intent study. Out on the field, Brighton, Helen’s only child and protégé has incurred the wrath of the opposing force’s general: Caden, son of Cathy, whose mother retains the title of Helen’s life-long arch-nemesis.The battle-judge issues a proclamation—an infraction due to ungentlemanly conduct—in the form of a yellow handkerchief. Caden bears no blame and subsequently, Brighton takes the fall for his fellow soldiers.

Helen starts from her seat, startling Precious, her snow-white pooch napping beneath the throne.The numerous bangles on her wrists glistened and clinked with her fury. Making such wild gesticulations as to attract the judge’s eye, Helen curses the skies above and demands justice for her son’s army.The judge takes no more than a moment’s notice of her and returns to his duties, but Helen does not relent. Eventually, the judge has no choice but to try to assuage Helen’s fit of rage.The judge seems almost swayed by Helen’s passion, but Cathy, who has been watching from afar, decides to apply her own persuasion to the judge. She marches over to the middle of the field to face her contender. She barely begins her impassioned speech before Helen directs her ire to Cathy.An awed hush comes over the spectators, and even the young soldiers stare in morbid curiosity.Already, Helen’s face was flushed from her exposure to the sun, but now it burns with self-righteous fire as she belabors on her son’s behalf.

The two women seem less like vain mothers than they do

The deviled eggs whisper to me,

vengeful goddesses of eastern fables.Their voices rise above every other sound on the battlefield as each tries to outdo the other for pitch, volume, and expletives, insulting each other, each other’s sons, husbands, and visible outlines or straps of undergarments. Not even the battlejudge dares to come between the two lionesses fighting for dominance. Devils spring from the earth and dance around them, but when Cathy dares to traverse topics unspoken of, Helen brings forth Hell. No one, no mortal, devil, or divine being has the courage to remind Helen of the tragedy three years ago of her burnt cookies at the bake sale.

Plunging into her Prada tote, Helen draws forth the keys to her carriage, a gleaming white Mercedes Benz CLS—last year’s model. In a show of utter disgust and haughty disdain, she saws through her dyed golden locks to sever the length of her hair and thrust it into Cathy’s eyes. Helen unleashes an unholy roar, the sun retreats behind the clouds, and the ground at their feet shakes with mighty tremors. Cathy recoils, retreats, and positively cowers with fear.The soldiers take their appropriate sides on the field and join in the cacophony.The spectators either stare in fear and wonder or make their own hurried retreats to their carriages, abandoning thrones, refreshments, and even babes as they run to avoid the battle.They know there will be nothing but carnage because Helen’s hair and roar...are a declaration of war.

MELANIE GUZMAN

Squirrel Monkey

micromorts I

“Enjoy the movie!”

“Thanks, you too!” II

artsyalex98 is Online

> yo

artsyalex98 is Offline

III

“Are you from ten I see?”

IV

Sent, 12:54am.

> i got a bottle of wine and a bad idea. interested?

Mom - Read, 12:55am.

V

“Yeah— ”

“It’s like what does she even see in him, y’know?”

“Yeah, but— ”

“I know, I know. She’s no saint either. Remember the barbeque?”

“Yeah, but I think— ”

“I mean, God! How can she sleep at night? That’s why I can’t go to those things—I hate drama.”

VI

“No, miss Clarke, I did not do the homework. I already know how to sentence my structures.”

VII

“So a priest, a boy scout, and a lawyer...wait, no.A priest, a boy scout, and an accountant walk into a bar...wait, no.They’re on a plane. So a priest, a boy scout, and an accountant are on an airplane, right? And the priest says...wait, no. I think a priest, a boy scout, and—”

VIII

Sent, 4:03pm.

> sounds good to me!

> can i lick you up at 7?

“Sorry, what?”

“I said if I—”

“What?”

“I said if I—”

“I can’t hear you!”

“I SAID IF I SQUEEZE REAL HARDTHENA LITTLE BIT COMES OUT BUT I BLEED ALL OVERTHETOILET BOWLAND IT HURTS TO SIT FOR A COUPLE DAYS.”

MCGUIRE

Distance

He sings meThe Beatles and John Mayer, rustled serenades over FaceTime audio, stirred tenor like a country verandah in July. Impervious, my boy is, to his own charm and cantata, unaware that he is the hypothesis of color, his sternum my perfect margin, my love for him at once: quantifiable. Untouchable.

This feeling is peculiar, nonlinear, it barrels out of me like sea meristems willed it, I testify, I persist under a flowered sun: I love him.

For a second he is here with me— his hair an undeniable garden (how he advances the night’s percussion through my blood but doesn’t even know it)— and our bodies prolong the stars.

AMAN CHISHTI

DANA PIERSON

Kingshighway

daddy doesn’t walk alongside Kingshighway he says the cars go by too fast and they zoom on past, forgetting they’re people trying on living but i walk alongside Kingshighway hearing the holler of an engine’s country rap, low whistles of boys smirking between cigarette laced teeth

maybe my skirt may be hiked too high sneakers scuffed with bubblegum tar, yet i adhere to the sun day’s heat making lemonade pop allowing the invigorating breeze of whizzing, spinning cars cool me off as i walk alongside Kingshighway.

Focus

BRIANNA PETTY

Today, and Every Day Before It

How could anyone look at her, and not love her, I marvel, methodical girl who only eats the egg whites and not the yolks, please. I watch her in ten-second yoga— onetwothreefourfivesixdone— plucky hair flirting with an invisible wind, voice unfurling in crescendo as her knees start to give out. Girl who has been told she is a vessel of incalculable dysmorphias, girl who watches The Lion King on loop so she, too, can learn nuance, be it from perky television animals— come exactly as you are.

You are a vision of will with your too big backpack and your songs disappearing into October clouds, your checklists and calendars and overflowing packs of multicolored markers, my heart leaning into itself at the Sharpie stars on your sneakers.

Gold Rush

Morning sun shafts my windshield.

Blinding bolts—

Drawn, Like lightning, To the stark black bark Of a forty-something oak

Sparking, Fissure veins

To rush toward blazing aurum, A leafy lode framed by crisp azure

Feng shui fire...

My twenty-something mind longs to linger

Electric globes stope my drift.

Conditioned compliance— Dragged, Like a laggard

To the testy tri-color Of everyday concrete Staking, Serpentine claim On the serendipitous strike And no-fool’s inner glitter

Sheng chi serenity... My fifty-something spirit loots this lease

Assaying red...awaiting green

ALLISON CHRISTMAN

I am

From candle-filled rooms and dusty sports memorabilia lining the bookshelves.

From Steak‘n Shake chili and green bottles of Pert shampoo.

From the “so clean it looks like no one lives here” household. Room smelling of Febreze, bleach, and alcohol.

From tall elephant ear plants that hide the windows just so that no one can see that the family relationships are the true mess that will never be cleaned.

From trivia games and laughing too loud.

From my Lohmann teeth and my Christman attitude, I am a perfect bundle of both maiden names.

From the always needing to be 20 minutes early, and refusing to be walked upon but letting her do it anyways.

From “suck it up buttercup” to “if you’re not bleeding or throwing up, don’t bother me.”

From 7am Catholic mass and bow your head to pray because I said so.

From the hills of Ireland and the broken-down walls of Germany. Grandma’s pecan pie, and Gus’ pretzels.

From the slammed doors, and hushed screams.

I am from the generation who has been told that mental health means nothing.

GUZMAN

Mind of Mine

The girl who sits at the desk just opposite of mine always makes faces at me as I work.And her desk has too many pictures of family, I think. I don’t have any pictures on my desk. Don’t get me wrong—I love my family, but I don’t need them staring at me while I work.The girl, she also insists on keeping a window open. I keep two work sweaters in my left-hand desk drawer.

That day, she kept looking at me as if I smelled of leftovers that had been left out in the sun too long.And every few minutes she would make a sound like a siren.You know the default alarm on iPhones? Her siren, it is just as startling as that noise that yanks me from my dream life each morning. I just can’t catch a break with this girl. She reminds me of Jason Blood from elementary school. Everyone insisted that he was so shy and quiet, yet he always used to whisper to me while I was trying to read or take a test.The girl’s siren isn’t new, you know.A couple weeks ago, I had asked her to stop.

“You’re being a bit distracting,” I said.“Could you please stop making so much noise?”

“I’m sorry, but I didn’t make a noise.”

I decided to let it go there but then she sounded her siren again.

“Beee dohhh eeeee.”

“Please! Could you just stop that while I’m working? I can’t get a thing done.”

I understand that I raised my voice a bit, but the way that she glanced at the other woman—the one she always giggles with—it made me retreat into my chair. Her friend shrugged her shoulders. Neither of them responded to my outburst, so I left the room for a coffee break. Later, I had heard her talking to her phone about me, calling me a freak. So now I can’t ask her to stop anymore. Just like with Jason Blood. I stared at the clock until it hit 12:15. It was a nice day. I thought I’d take my lunch out to the park.

Carrying the sleek grey lunchbox I’d bought at aWhole Foods, I made my way along the lake. It was one of those days where the shaded areas have a shiver-inducing chill, but the sunny areas are nice, requiring nothing more than a sweater. I’m sure I could paint an image of the lakeside from memory.The bushes that bloom pinky-purple Abelia flowers towards the end of spring, they sit near the benches that look out on the water. I had to look that up, you know.Abelia. I want to plant those in

my yard someday when I have my own house.Anyway, those will be blooming in a little over a month, I’m sure.The benches look a bit uninviting, the wood worn and the iron rusting, but they curve a bit on the seat, making them quite comfortable. My favorite bench was taken that day by a woman reading The Yellow Wallpaper, so I sat at the next one just five meters down.

It was a good bench too, still close enough to the water that I could hear its soft sounds, but not too close that I felt overwhelmed.The sound of the water shuffling felt like tickles all over me, keeping me just slightly chilly.

As I bit into my chicken salad sandwich, I watched a little boy pick up rocks and lob them into the lake.The boy must have been the woman’s son (though neither paid much attention to the other). He was really giving an effort, the boy. Roughly every fourth rock found its way into the water, whether it bounced in or traveled from his hand straight through the air and into the water.

“Shhh.” I heard it, the soft noise trying to interrupt my thoughts, but I kept my focus on the feat of the young boy.

The boy, his next throw forced a grunt out of him. I mean he really lobbed that thing, but it landed about a meter shy of the water.

“Shhh.” It was getting louder.The man in the bush was getting insensitive. “Shhh.” But, I let him go on. No reason to let this ruin my lunch.

By the time my sandwich had just a quarter left, and the boy had missed his sixth throw in a row, the man in the bush began to shriek. That’s okay though.This happens. I just shook my head at him and watched the boy’s next victim sink straight to the lakebed. I finished my sandwich in peace and watched the water until my lunch break was over.

Back at work, it seemed as though I was living a day I had already lived before.And not like déjà vu. I just do the same thing every day.That bitch at the desk opposite of me giggling with the other one. Her dirty looks and the open window.Watching the clock tick till six.

That night, I missed the bus. I could feel the air cutting around me as I walked home. Much chillier on that walk than it was at lunch. The air, it leaked through my clothes and moved close to my skin as if there was only enough room for me to squeeze through. I wished I had brought one of my work sweaters with me.

Many people would be bothered by this long of a walk, I think. I really don’t mind. It fills my day. Not much else I would be doing this time of night, anyway.All was well until I saw the man sitting in the street up ahead. He was wearing a brown coat that pulled his shoulders toward the ground. I began to sweat and tried not to look at him.

“You shouldn’t be outside,” he said.

I avoided eye contact and pretended I hadn’t heard him.

“Silas, you shouldn’t be outside.”

I really should know better than to give him attention. He’s always going on like this, you see. He always speaks in warnings and I’ve never told him my name.

“Silas, get out of here.You shouldn’t be outside.”

“Isn’t it too hot in a big coat like that?” I croaked out, then began to speed up.

He let out a grunt that sounded close to a cackle. “Mind your business, you rat!”

I kept quiet, squeezing my eyes shut as his hollers got further and further away.

At home, I put a frozen dinner in the microwave. I ate at the table, amongst the buzzing, and watched the shadows dance around my kitchen.

Perpetual Unfolding

A LOVER’S HAZE

Sparks

Sparks that light up the inside of my eyes, Gentle, their pulsing figure pulls me into the unknown,

A halo

The edge of a chasm beckoning in a sweet, rhythmic song, Pulling me towards the inevitable fall,

Like a dream

The melody is lost to me until its grace returns, Its ghost, a mocking reminder of what has been forgotten,

It bleeds danger

Like a siren out at sea, The waves peak with her verse, and crash with her chorus,

I cannot help but sinking deeper, The sting of worry and doubt is faded, The future, by the present is sedated,

It is sugar dissolved in poison, An elixir I consume with a gluttonous fervor, Sickly syrup remaining on my breath I release a single murmur, “I love you” I can barely manage, My response to the kiss I, so delicately, was granted.

Origin - Yuzuru Hanyu

Yuzuru Hanyu

Winter is Spiteful

Purveyor of persistent pucker and pinch as shrinking skin shrivels into gooseflesh, trapped in the sadistic static sting of worsted wool while ice pelts a vulnerable cheek with barbed wire bites

And bitter winds burn, first chapped skin and brittle lips— then naked nostrils and lusting lungs

And swallowed freeze fuels a malicious inner glacier— numbing limbs, drugging spirits

Life suspended in eerie sterile daylight, like fluorescent anesthesia sinking from the ceiling of a doctor’s office, until frostbite numbs an exposed soul to hypnotic haze and un-lucid limbo

CULLEN LANDOLT

Absolute Value

Swirling blues and blacks No, I am not a good girl; They get A’s in math.

SARAH JANE MATT

Mystery Mutilation: The Case for Alien Involvement in Unsolved Cattle Mutilations

It is late July, 2019.An Oregon rancher at SilviesValley Ranch drives out in the early morning to check on his cattle.When he arrives, he finds five bulls dead on the ground.This in itself, while tragic, is no unusual occurrence; the result of an animal attack, most likely. However, upon closer inspection, the bulls are found to be missing only their tongues and genitals, and the removal of these items has been performed with perfect, surgical precision. Even stranger, the area is entirely bloodless, and not a single track can be seen around them in the dust.1 Animal attack is no longer a suitable explanation.Authorities are contacted and find no leads.The cause behind the killing and mutilation of these five cows is a mystery—and they are added to the count of thousands of eerily similar unsolved cases that have occurred in the US. In every case, authorities were unable to explain the phenomenon, leaving farmers to ponder the causes on their own.This essay will examine the facts and the speculations about these unexplained cattle mutilations.Theories abound regarding possible culprits, including secret government organizations, and possibly the most popular accusation: aliens.While at first glance the consideration of extraterrestrial involvement may seem like a frivolous inclusion, with such mysterious circumstances and lack of explanation on any side this theory is as valid as any other—and perhaps the most impactful if proven true.

While the causes of the cattle mutilations are shrouded in mystery, the facts are clearly documented, and must be examined before fingers are pointed at any suspected party.With over 10,000 cases reported in the US since 1967, there is plenty of precedent to study.2 In the 1970s alone, nearly 40 cows were found along Highway 81 in incredibly similar and equally baffling conditions.3 While the specific details may vary

1 King,Anna. “‘Not One Drop Of Blood’: Cattle Mysteriously Mutilated in Oregon.”

https://www.npr.org/2019/10/08/767283820/not-one-drop-of-blood-cattle-mysteriously-mutilatedin-oregon (accessed 16 April 2020).

2 Bickel,Amy.“Recent Cattle Mutilations Bring Memories of 1970s Attacks.”

https://www.capitalpress.com/ag_sectors/livestock/recent-cattle-mutilations-bring-memories-of-s-attacks/article_9c7a8b05-2b95-5e13-a8ca-db189ea9aef6.html (accessed 16 April 2020).

3 IBID.

slightly case by case, the basic scenario is almost always the same.The cow is found dead in the morning, stripped of certain body parts in an extremely deliberate manner. Udders, genitals, and tongues are the most frequently targeted parts, but it is also common to find cows missing eyes, ears, lips, tails, and other specific bits and pieces. Natural causes and attacks by wild animals can be immediately ruled out, due to the increasingly unusual facts: each missing piece seems to have been removed with surgical precision using a sharp object.4 While it is unknown what tools were used for this process, this evidence seems to suggest that the act was performed by a human—or at least a being with the ability to precisely wield tools.

Not only does evidence point to the use of tools, these implements in some cases seem to be highly specific. Many bodies show odd circular wounds cut or burned into their foreheads with an unknown implement. In a 1975 case, a calf’s eye was perfectly removed, and the optic nerve was cauterized—time and thought were put into the removal of the eye, and the cauterization implies that the culprit was equipped with medical knowledge and specific tools for the task. In another case where the eye was removed, a veterinarian noted that the eyelashes and eyelid had also been taken, and reported that the cuts were made with a laser.5 To add to the mystery, the sites where the animals are found are often bloodless, the bodies drained of blood, and the ground clean as ever.The ground itself is another wonder. Despite finding the cows in muddy or dusty areas, no tracks or footprints are found around the bodies.Andie Davies, one of the many farmers who has lost livestock to the mystery killers, expressed her bafflement on the blank ground, pointing out that in the dusty Oregon landscape,“everything you do leaves tracks.”6 Mike Durand, another rancher who claims to have lost several cows over the years to acts of mutilation, seconds this point. One of his slaughtered cows was found at the edge of a river, where he says the ground was “all fresh mud, and there were no tracks at all.”7 Whatever tools the mutilators use to commit the act, they are able to make a clean getaway, leaving no trace of their presence. No matter what caused these eerie scenes, ranchers agree that the situation is dangerous; on some ranches after the cattle were found, staff were told to bear arms

4 McDonald, Scott. “Some Believe Aliens or‘NorthVietnamese Army’ Caused Mysterious Cattle Deaths in Oregon.”

https://www.newsweek.com/some-believe-aliens-north-vietnamese-army-caused-mysterious-cattledeaths-oregon-1459824 (accessed 16 April 2020).

5 Bickel,Amy.“Recent Cattle Mutilations Bring Memories of 1970s Attacks.”

6 King,Anna. “‘Not One Drop Of Blood’: Cattle Mysteriously Mutilated in Oregon.”

7 N.A. “Alien Cattle Mutilation.” https://video.nationalgeographic.com/tv/00000144-2f39-df5d-abd4ff7dae690000 (accessed 16 April 2020).

and stay in pairs at all times.8 Whether spoken or unspoken, there is an obvious concern: what would happen if the perpetrators of these acts got hold of a human target?

While for most people, the thought of a human subjected to this form of mutilation is just a terrifying “what if,” many people firmly believe that it has already happened.While several different incidents have been reported over the years, the most prominent of these cases is that of Air Force sergeant Jonathan Lovette.After going missing in the desert, his corpse was discovered ten miles from where he had gone missing, fully nude and graphically mutilated. Similar to the cases regarding cattle, his tongue, eyes, and other less modest parts were removed, reportedly with a high level of surgical skill.9 Though he had been missing for three days, his body was reported to only have been exposed to the desert for one or two days, leaving no clues as to where he could have been for the omitted third day.Allegedly, the body was also noticeably well-preserved given the amount of time it had been dead—a symptom reportedly shared by many of the slaughtered cattle.10 The noted similarities between Lovette’s case and the cases of the mutilated cattle leave theorists searching for answers; however, shocking as his story may be, the government report regarding it is shrouded in mystery.The report was supposedly made by an Air Force organization called Project Grudge, and theorists refer to the report itself as “Project Grudge Report 13.” However, according to the U.S. government, Report 13 does not exist.The only knowledge about the report comes from two men who claim to have read and analyzed the document.11 Their separate accounts corroborate each other quite closely, but the 600-page document has still never seen the light of day.To some theorists, this begs the question of whether other cases of human victims have been hushed-up by the government.

The idea that the government may not be sharing all it knows either about human or cattle mutilation sparks thoughts of a wider conspiracy in many minds. Secret government involvement is a go-to conspiracy theory for many unusual events such as these, and cattle

8 NPR: King,Anna.“‘Not One Drop Of Blood’: Cattle Mysteriously Mutilated in Oregon.” 9 Bertram, Colin. “The Dark Connection Between UFOs and Grisly Mutilations.”

https://www.history.com/news/ufos-aliens-animal-human-mutilation-lovette-cunningham (accessed 16 April 2020).

10 Swancer, Brent.“Bizarre Cases of Mysterious Human Mutilations and Strange Deaths.” https://mysteriousuniverse.org/2017/06/bizarre-cases-of-mysterious-deaths-and-human-mutilations/ (accessed 16 April 2020).

11 Bertram, Colin. “The Dark Connection Between UFOs and Grisly Mutilations.” The two men in question are conspiracy theoristWilliam Cooper and former Green Beret captainWilliam English. Both separately assert that they were tasked with analyzing Report 13.

mutilations have caught the attention of numerous conspiracy thinkers. In many of the cattle cases, the killings coincided with reports of mysterious helicopters flying low in the sky.When the FBI investigated these claims, they reported that there were indeed unknown helicopters in the area around the time of the killing, with no flight plan and no identification.12 To some, this indicates government involvement in the situation. Chris O’Brien, author of a book on the subject titled Stalking the Herd, theorizes that the helicopters could be a sign of “environmental monitoring” by a shadowy arm of the government.13 Whether the government is the perpetrator, the investigator, or simply a silent witness of the events varies from theorist to theorist. O’Brien sees little reason why they would choose to kill these cattle, though, outside of perhaps some form of population control or extreme disease-prevention measures. However, the same lack of obvious reason behind the attacks applies to any of the possible suspects.The nonsensical nature of the mutilations is a part of what makes them so baffling. It is difficult to see how anyone could benefit from disfiguring cattle in such a way, leading some to propose more supernatural theories—including extraterrestrial visitation.

Bridging the gap between mutilated cattle and aliens may seem like a leap of faith to some skeptics, but to many ranchers, visitors from beyond are deemed the most likely culprit. Ranchers whose cattle have been victimized are often quite confident in their belief that the acts were committed by alien beings. Mike Durand asserts that his slaughtered cattle were taken up by aliens into their spacecraft, mutilated while on board, and then dropped back into the field where they would later be found.14 One alien believer suggested that the ranchers search for a hollow in the ground under the corpse, indicating that the cow was dropped “from a great height.”15 These claims are not made without basis in fact; the mutilations often coincide with other strange circumstances that are attributed to alien sightings. Many farmers report seeing strange lights in the sky around the time of the killing. Durand is again quite positive on this point; he states that each time one of his cows has been targeted, there has been a sighting recently beforehand of bright white lights in the sky, distinctly different from ordinary airplane lights.The lights persist for a long moment, traveling across the sky, and then simply vanish.16 He is certain these lights belong to UFOs. Secluded ranchers are not the only ones giving credit to the aliens; among the theories

12 Bickel,Amy. “Recent Cattle Mutilations Bring Memories of 1970s Attacks.”

13 IBID.

14 N.A. “Alien Cattle Mutilation.”

15 King,Anna.“‘Not One Drop Of Blood’: Cattle Mysteriously Mutilated in Oregon.”

16 N.A. “Alien Cattle Mutilation.”

associated with the government lie concerns that the military has knowledge of run-ins with alien beings.

If the analysts of Project Grudge Report 13 are to be believed, the military may have good reason to believe that extraterrestrials are implicated in the mutilation of Sergeant Lovette. In fact, Project Grudge itself was an Air Force program dedicated to the investigation of UFO sightings in the U.S., a predecessor of the better-known Project Blue Book.17 According to the account of Report 13, Project Grudge was involved in the Lovette case because of the testimony of MajorWilliam Cunningham, who accompanied Lovette the day he went missing in the desert and claims to have seen the moment he was taken. Cunningham insisted that he saw Lovette gripped around the legs by a long flexible arm, which pulled him up inside a silver disk in the sky before it rose away into the clouds.18 He added that as he saw this happening, he attempted to rush to Lovette’s rescue, but found himself paralyzed by an unknown power that lifted as soon as the craft rose out of sight.19 Cunningham was afterward detained on suspicion of foul play, but the military did detect the radar signature of an unknown aircraft moving in the area, which proved impossible to identify.20 Given the condition in which the body was found, it does not seem probable that Cunningham could have been the perpetrator of the act; therefore, he would have little reason to come up with such an unusual story as a lie.The unidentified aircraft signal means there was indeed some mysterious craft in the sky that day.Whether it was human or alien in origin, one thing is clear: the situation is bewilderingly strange.

Determining the cause of these mutilations seems like attempting to explain the inexplicable—perhaps this is why the more supernatural explanation feels the most plausible. If the acts were performed by human means, then it stands to reason that human logic would apply to these cases.There would be some level of rationality behind what cows were chosen, which body parts were taken, and why.Yet, the ways in which the cows are mutilated leaves all investigators without any inkling of what the perpetrators could possibly have been attempting to accomplish. No human reason seems attached to the crimes, nor even human means—how could a human killer take out these cows without any signs of a struggle, surgically mutilate them there on the ground without leaving any blood, and then vanish without a trace into the dusty landscape? On the other hand, if the cows were taken by visitors from above,

18 IBID.

20 IBID.

17 Bertram, Colin. “The Dark Connection Between UFOs and Grisly Mutilations.”

19 Swancer, Brent.“Bizarre Cases of Mysterious Human Mutilations and Strange Deaths.”

the pieces fall closer into place. By taking the cows up into the sky, then depositing them back on the ground when their work is done, the aliens could easily accomplish these mutilations.While research is silent on whether the cows showed signs of being dropped from the sky, this theory would explain the lack of footprints around the animal. It also provides some explanation for the bloodlessness of the scene; if the mutilation was performed inside a spacecraft and the body replaced after the job was done, the blood would be drained in the spacecraft rather than spilling onto the ground.The strange helicopter sightings fit into this version of the story as well.The alleged involvement of Project Grudge suggests that the military has some knowledge or suspicion of alien involvement in these mutilations, and could be performing their own secret investigations of the scenes of the killings. Of course, if these allegations were proven true, it would be quite a shock to the nation to learn definitively of the existence of aliens—one reason the government may choose to keep the knowledge under wraps even if they had proof. Government obfuscation of data could even be called a contributing factor in why the culprits have never been uncovered.

The case of the five dead bulls at SilviesValley Ranch was never solved. The killers of the bulls have never been found, just like in every similar case on record.The ranch has offered a reward of $25,000 for information to help solve the case, but to no avail.21 Ultimately, without more evidence, the truth of the matter is unknowable.The unsolved cases are left to gather dust in the offices of county sheriffs and continue to mystify investigators. However, the investigation persists by those who choose to tackle the challenge; conspiracy theorists tirelessly pore over the evidence, trying to piece together the truth.There is always the answer that has been offered by theorists and ranchers alike—to find the culprits, all you must do is stand under the starry sky and look up.

Bibliography

Bertram, Colin. “The Dark Connection Between UFOs and Grisly Mutilations.” https://www.history.com/news/ufos-aliens-animal-human-mutilationlovette-cunningham (accessed 16 April 2020).

Bickel,Amy. “Recent Cattle Mutilations Bring Memories of 1970s Attacks.” https://www.capitalpress.com/ag_sectors/livestock/recent-cattle-mu tilations-bring-memories-of-s-attacks/article_9c7a8b05-2b95-5e13a8ca-db189ea9aef6.html(accessed 16 April 2020).

King,Anna. “‘Not One Drop Of Blood’: Cattle Mysteriously Mutilated in Oregon.” https://www.npr.org/2019/10/08/767283820/not-one-drop-of-bloodcattle-mysteriously-mutilated-in-oregon (accessed 16 April 2020).

McDonald, Scott.“Some Believe Aliens or‘NorthVietnameseArmy’ Caused Mysterious Cattle Deaths in Oregon.”

https://www.newsweek.com/some-believe-aliens-north-vietnamese-armycaused-mysterious-cattle-deaths-oregon-1459824 (accessed 16 April 2020).

N.A. “Alien Cattle Mutilation.”

https://video.nationalgeographic.com/tv/00000144-2f39-df5d-abd4ff7dae690000 (accessed 16 April 2020).

Swancer, Brent. “Bizarre Cases of Mysterious Human Mutilations and Strange Deaths.” https://mysteriousuniverse.org/2017/06/bizarre-cases-of-mysteriousdeaths-and-human-mutilations/ (accessed 16 April 2020).

21 King,Anna.“‘Not One Drop Of Blood’: Cattle Mysteriously Mutilated in Oregon.”

Image of Nouns

Hardwood flooring and an area rug. Muted blue wall littered with family photos. Worn sofa, ottoman, blanket. Whiskey, glass half empty.

Socked feet, pajamas. Raised hand, protected face. Polished black leather shoes. Raised hand, forehead creased.

A fall, a collision of bone on hardwood. Unclenching fists, tears, and hugs. An apology, a promise, an apology. Two bodies curled up on the rug.

JELENA BASARA TOMASEVIC

Endometriosis Awareness

Everyday

A soft brush packed with brown pigment fits into the crease of her eyelid. She spreads the pigment left to right, blending until she is satisfied. She adds a creamy, jet black gel to her upper lash line, flicking her wrist at the far edge of her lid. She combs through her lashes, meticulously dyeing each individual lash, carefully watching for unsightly clumps. She leans away from the mirror to see her work.

Not bad, she thinks. Definitely done worse.

Dipping her sponge into a thick liquid that is slightly too dark for her skin tone, she bounces the pigment into her skin. She searches out her flaws, finding every blemish, every scar, every bruise. She grabs her next shield, a lighter, thicker pigment on a smaller brush, and pats this under her eyes. She tops the edges of her cheekbones with brown powder, adding a pink powder to the apples of her cheeks directly after. Fiery red and pale pink tubes lay across her desk. She stares longingly at the bold reds, imagining the day she’ll pick one up without her stomach sinking to the floor. She reaches for the palest pink tube, and smears it across her swollen lips. She leans back again, this time checking for any darkness peeking through.

The bathroom door swings open, and he stands, peering at her face. His eyes linger at her neck, noticing a discolored spot she missed. He carefully grabs her hand. Bruises are beginning to form on his knuckles.As he grips her tightly, tears start falling from his eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” he sobs, collapsing into her shoulder. She holds him, so as not to lose her balance. He is being apologetic, more so than before.

“I lost my temper,” he says through tears.“I thought you were going to leave me.”

She wants to tell him that isn’t an excuse. She wants to tell him that he always says that he’s sorry. She wants to tell him that she doesn’t deserve to be his punching bag. She wants to say that this time she is done. His wet eyes meet hers.The walls behind his icy cobalts seem to crack. A look of despair appears. He pleads with her, and she can’t look away. Maybe this time, it’s different, she thinks.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” she swallows the lump in her throat and pats his back to soothe him.

He nods. “I swear I-I’m sorry.”

He pulls her into his arms. She buries her face into his neck.

“For our relationship’s sake, I hope so,” she whispers.

He squeezes her tighter, unknowingly putting pressure on her bruised rib.

For my sake, I hope so too, she thinks.

Machinations

These odd positions towards which I gravitate

Some days drawn with the momentum of a locomotive

Feeling the weight of a fear fraught freight crash into my headspace

Carrying cargo to which my insecurities are the payload

Therein lies the center of my innermost hate as I attempt to reconcile with pain

Splintering and spreading like a crack across a mist stained windowpane

Not too major

None too startling

Save until everything starts to fall apart

The crash comes dead on hitting me centerfold

A searing clip of anxiety fit to rip slick holes through my chest

To bowl my soul over to lay unraveled like the exposed flesh of a centerfold

Piercing pockets in my confidence

Elongating daunting days

I question if I can find a shield from the mental ricochet

Yet there is none to be found

Just bread crumb trails leading to shallow lines uttered to sound profound

Meanwhile my frantic calls resound for salvation

They’re met by the gnashing teeth of a hellhound

Between its teeth is a piece of dangling meat sizzling like my brain in its natural state

An aching mess, a jumbled hovel, another self-fulfilled prophecy

Guaranteeing only one piss poor pathetic reality

Another one on a long list of equestrian pills to swallow

Makes me question if it’s really all that bad to just sit here and wallow

Questions and concerns left unheard and unsolved

Scribbled notations on solutions that could encompass all

Left across the blank acid etched slate of my mind like the wall of a bathroom stall

Such nuggets of resolve that rise above the limit of loathing

Are then pecked out by hungry vultures from the eyes of a stone colossus

Taken home to be treasured like chunks of the BerlinWall

Within those barren sockets remains the force that moves men and mentalities

Masked by infrequent degrees

Simple facades of decency to make believe

That the constructs we erect don’t crumble in time.

Derivative / We Feel Groove!

Hello!

My name is Cullen and I like it loud. Consequently my bedroom contains one keyboard, two guitars, and the microphone that came bundled with the PlayStation 2 video game Singstar. These objects play a very special role in my life as an artist: each and every day, I glance at them on my way to the kitchen.

I suppose I ought to shill.The magic squares above represent the first two tracks from an album of mine. For more moody jams, pop over toYouTube and punch in the phrase “Carbon Copy - All Real Numbers.” That’s my coolguy name and the title of the album, respectively. Thank you for listening, and do take care of yourself.We’ve got a long way to go.

Winter Sanctuary

...Bonus words!

Gigantic, mondo thanks to AJ, the Mott family, and all the other people who keep me from lying in bed all day.This song is yours as much as it is mine.

Excellence in Writing Contest

2019-2020

Announcing the winners of the Excellence inWriting Contest!

Thank you to all who submitted.There were many excellent essays in the running, and everyone should be very proud of their work. Our official contest winners are...

Could Social Media Be a Mortality Salience Prime?

Abstract

1000-Level Seminar: Aimee Pieper

“The Epic Highs and Lows ofVolleyball:An Essay on the Acceptance of Kathoeys inThailand”

Written for Honors 1130: Men andWomen in Non-Western Popular Culture, taught by KateWeber.

2000-Level Seminar: Sarah Larash

“Meritocracy and Democratic Egalitarianism:A BlendedApproach to Equality”

Written for Honors 2010: Equality in the Era of the American Revolution, taught by Bob Bliss.

3000-Level Seminar: Hannah Schleicher

“Organizational Commitment and its Factors: Job Satisfaction, Organizational Context, Performance, and Leadership”

Written for Honors 3160:Writing in the Sciences, taught by AnnTorrusio.

*4000-Level Seminar: Mimi Mead

“Could Social Media be a Mortality Salience Prime?”

Written for Honors 4900: Independent Study, taught by KateVotaw.

* Denotes featured contest winner

Research has found that social media can lead to negative emotions and even depression. However, there is a gap in research when it comes to social media’s possible role inTerror ManagementTheory (TMT). Mortality Salience (MS), which occurs when people are reminded of their mortality, causes individuals to defend their worldviews and attack opposing worldviews, increasing outgroup prejudice and aggression. Outgroup hostility occurs frequently on various social media platforms. Is it possible that social media is acting as the prime to MS? Exploration of current literature shows that there is very little research to determine if social media is a prime for MS, or if it affectsTMT in general. Similarities and patterns in MS andTMT literature support a hypothesis that individuals on social media may be increasing cultural buffers to combat death anxiety. If social media does play a role inTMT, it could have important implications on how psychologists evaluate interactions on social media.TheTempler Scale is explored as a possible MS measure for future research on this subject due to its validity and reliability.

Introduction

Social media has had a profound impact on society. It has changed how people interact with each other. People can share updates on their lives, make new friends, and so much more—all digitally. Social media has become not only a world of its own, but also a part of people’s daily lives. Many studies have been conducted to determine how social media impacts humans, be it their relationships or mental health. However, there is a gap in research when it comes to social media’s possible role in Terror ManagementTheory (TMT).

Mortality Salience (MS), a cornerstone ofTMT, is normally triggered by reminding people of their mortality.This trigger can be through in-person events, interactions, objects, and news articles. MS causes people to become more defensive of their worldviews and, oftentimes, more aggressive to opposing worldviews. Interestingly, these responses

often occur in interactions on social media platforms. It is possible that social media is a death prime. However, research has not been done to see if the reason for these responses is due toTMT or is associated with other factors including self-awareness, death anxiety, cultural buffers, mental health, and social connection.

Self-Awareness

Humans possess self-awareness, which is why they are aware that they will eventually die.Arguably, humans are uniquely aware of their impending mortality and their own physical limitations. Greenberg et al. (1995) explained that the awareness of death has pushed humans to survive. It is evident that humans seem to have explicit and implicit drives to continue existing. Greenberg, Pyszczynski, Solomon, Simon, and Breus, (1994) explained that these drives combined with humans’ unique death awareness create internal turmoil. For humans, the desire for a long life and the subconscious awareness of mortality can lead to terror (Greenberg et al., 1994).

According toTMT, MS results from thoughts of certain mortality, or death awareness (Greenberg et al., 1995). Psychologists have come up with many hypotheses for why these effects occur. Some psychologists believe that anxiety of certain mortality may even be the underlying mechanism of psychological dysfunctions (Iverach, Menzies, & Menzies, 2014). Regardless of the reason for this connection, there can be no doubt death anxiety triggers MS effects.

As described inTMT, the “conflict between humans’ instinctual drive for survival and their awareness of their own mortality” produces existential anxiety that can be difficult to manage. In addition,TMT also states that much of the behavior humans engage in is a result of the need to cope with mortality (Baka, Derbis, & Maxfield, 2012). Research has suggested that the fear of death affects more than just human behavior and the way people carry themselves. Pyszczynski, Greenberg, and Solomon (1999) found that this fear affects human behavior in the ways that individuals are motivated to maintain a positive image within their cultural worldview in order to mask the anxiety associated with certain mortality.As a result, humans with higher levels of anxiety and lower levels of self-esteem may become either defensive or dismissive towards opposing worldviews.Therefore, subconsciously, humans may become overly judgmental and express odd behaviors as a result of their deep and hidden fear of mortality (Pyszczynski et al., 1999).

The late Cultural Anthropologist Ernest Becker proposed that fear of death is caused by the methods individuals use to cope with the subject. He also explained that people must be highly aware of the

cultural factors around them and that the exposure to others’ reactions towards death may produce existential anxiety (as cited in Hardie-Bick, 2015). However, it is possible to help employ strategies to make the world seem less cruel and to become content with the inevitability of individual mortality.As Becker argued, “living with an awareness of the inevitability of death explains why people need to feel they can continue to have influence after they have died” (as cited in Hardie-Bick, 2015). In a sense, memory and impact on the world are how individuals combat mortality. Memory can be immortalized.After all, most people who become famous are not widely known until after their death.

Death Anxiety

According toTMT, weakening people’s convicted worldviews may rapidly provoke their fear of death.Additionally, worldview-threatening information causes death-related thoughts to become more accessible (Schimel, Hayes,Williams, & Jahrig, 2007).With an increase in exposure to terrorist events due to a rapid increase in technology use over the past three decades, people have become more aware of their own mortality and this awareness has even promoted more high-profile violence (Das, Bushman, Bezemer, Kerkhof, &Vermeulen, 2009). In contrast, worries about life after college, the purpose of life, thinking about large physical pain, and giving a speech in front of a large audience do not actually produce parallel effects in response to mortality salience (Greenberg et al., 1994).

Because humans are aware of their mortality, they need a way to buffer their death anxiety.Without a buffer, humans can have extremely negative responses to reminders of death and, therefore, opposing worldviews.As reported by Das et al. (2009), exposure to terrorist attacks increases individuals’ thoughts about their own mortality, and such reminders increase worldview defenses and thoughts of prejudice against those with opposing worldviews. Different groups of people respond to death anxiety differently. For example, there is a drastic difference between responses based on minority or non-minority status. Bejan, Hickman, Parkin, and Pozo (2018) have shown that when minorities experience higher levels of shock while in contact with law enforcement, there is a significant decrease in the number of law enforcement officers who are killed. Bejan and colleagues also found that the opposite is true. When Caucasian non-minorities experience higher levels of shock, there is also an increase in the likelihood that law enforcement officers will experience violent retaliation.

Cultural Buffers

Humans have created culture as a way to buffer death anxiety. Cultural worldviews and self-esteem buffer death anxiety because these factors help individuals believe that they are living up to their worldview’s cultural standards (Jonas, Schimel, Greenberg, & Pyszczynski, 2002). Humans strive to have a continued existence for longer lives. Many times, this struggle can provoke a fear of death within them.This fear explains why they may become defensive about their cultural worldview. It is also why their self-esteem may take a negative hit. Mortality salience effects may be the reason that prejudice, racism, nationalism, defensiveness, authoritarian behavior, and sexual attraction exist (Greenberg et al., 1994).

When humans are reminded of their death, they increase their cultural commitments and related actions to better buffer MS effects. According to the Mortality Salience hypothesis, “reminders of mortality should increase the need for psychological resources that buffer anxieties about death” (Vess & Arndt, 2008). Individuals are motivated by the concept of blocking out death-related thoughts in order to heighten their productivity and quality of life (Florian, Mikulincer, & Hirschberger, 2001). Individuals who are experiencing the effects of MS have a higher need for validation of their own cultural worldview (Greenberg, Simon, Pyszczynski, Solomon, & Chatel, 1992).

Studies have shown that awareness of one’s own mortality will likely increase defensiveness of their own culture (Arndt, Greenberg, Pyszczynski, & Solomon, 1997).This increased defensiveness is known in the social sciences field as ethnocentrism, where some believe their culture is superior to others. Previous research based onTMT concludes that a fear of death increases negative reactions to those with a differing worldview (Greenberg et al., 1992). Past research has concluded that constantly reminding individuals of their mortality increases negative responses to others with opposing worldviews or beliefs. Further, those who agree with and validate individuals’ cultural worldviews gain increased positive reactions from those individuals (Greenberg et al., 1995). Cultural worldviews help to provide the coating of certainty towards mortality, which helps humans to find comfort in a world of uncertainty, especially towards the uncomfortable subject of death.

Fear of death does not affect all equally. Death anxiety can be affected by individuals’ conviction to their worldview, political opinion, level of depression, and self-esteem.The stronger people’s convictions are to their worldview, the less fear and anxiety they show at the threat of their own life (Ben-Ari, Florian, & Mikulincer, 1999). When confronted with the reality of their death, individuals subconsciously turn to

the worldview from the culture they were exposed to early in life (Baka et al., 2012).

Liberals and conservatives (in political terms) have different viewpoints when it comes to thoughts of death. Greenberg et al. (1992) found that due to lower authoritarian levels and more open-mindedness in liberals, conservatives actually may be more threatened by opposing worldviews than their counterparts.

Mental Health

Another factor, mental health, can have a significant impact on death anxiety. Simon, Greenberg, Jones, Solomon, and Pyszczynski (1996) observed that individuals who have been clinically diagnosed with mild depression are more likely to engage in defensive behaviors when exposed to negative views of their own cultural worldview, and that this outcome has been proven to be especially the case after being exposed to their own mortality.What may also increase irrational behaviors is the fact that individuals who are mildly-depressed lose touch with reality while losing faith in themselves and others around them.

Those who had higher levels of depression reported having more defense towards their own worldview and strongly opposed those who went against it (Simon, Harmon-Jones, Greenberg, Solomon, & Pyszczynski, 1994).This behavior is a symptom associated with clinical depression, which frequently includes loss of hope and difficulty maintaining a clear grip on reality.As a solution, Simon et al. (1994) proposed guiding people who are mildly-depressed to contemplate their mortality as a means to see their worldview as important, while also being open to other worldviews that may work for them.

Similarly, level of self-esteem has a great impact on how individuals perceive death (Vess &Arndt, 2008). Study participants with low self-esteem who are reminded of their death have given more positive feedback to those who validate their worldview.According to Arndt, Greenberg, Solomon, Pyszczynski, and Simon (1997), “The mortality salience (MS) hypothesis states that reminders of mortality increase the need for faith in the worldview and thus increase favorable responses to anyone or anything that supports the worldview and unfavorable responses to anyone or anything that threatens it” (Arndt et al., 1997).As researchers have confirmed, the human need for comfort and the certainty of a subject that tends to be very uncomfortable (mortality) becomes a basis for self-fulfilling prophecy.

Social Connection

Social support can also have a major impact on death anxiety. Scientific evidence has shown that social support groups are the most effective way of handling terror and fear, such as the fear of certain mortality, which proves that being “socially disconnected” is the real fear (Baron, 1997).There are four main ways to eliminate or decrease the anxiety caused by worldviews that conflict with one’s own.These are derogation, assimilation, accommodation, and annihilation (Solomon, Greenberg, & Pyszczynski, 1991). Derogation is talking down to groups.Assimilation is converting people to other’s views.Accommodation is accepting that people have different beliefs. Annihilation aims to get rid of conflicting world views by separating or killing those with these beliefs.

Social media may increase MS. Social media has already been found to lead to negative moods and reactions to others. In 2019, research conducted by Sasso, Giovanetti, Schied, Burke, and Haeffel revealed that negative posts onTwitter, followed by a negative mood, could lead to a cycle of negativity. Past-focused events on social media, specifically onTwitter, were positively correlated with depressive symptoms and cognitive vulnerability.The researchers proposed this correlation was due to a negative and “brooding” nature of past-focused events. Participants’ twitter accounts were monitored over a three-month period and the Beck’s Depression Inventory (BDI) and Cognitive Styles Questionnaire (CSQ) were given as pre-tests and post-tests.

An experimental study by Kramer, Guillory, and Hancock (2014) manipulated the Facebook content provided to users and found that reducing the number of positive posts to which users were exposed significantly decreased the frequency of positive words they used in subsequent posts. A similar effect was evident when decreasing posts with a negative connotation led to the use of fewer negative words in subsequent posts. This experiment could mean that “in-person interaction and nonverbal cues are not strictly necessary for emotional contagion” (Kramer et al., 2014). Social media can be a platform for these interactions to occur. Therefore, other emotions, like fear of death, may be spread through social media, which could produce an increase in mortality salience.

There is no doubt that the rapidly increasing media presence in the social environment has changed people’s lives in a big way. Most individuals have used media as a way to find information they want to know in order to validate their viewpoints.The desire for novelty and emotional stimulation has created a heavy addiction towards engagement in keeping up with what individuals want to know (Cappella, Kim, & Albarracín, 2015). Fear of death may be spreading because modern technology has made it easier to become exposed to violent acts easily

viewed on cell phones and other devices (Tarabah, Badr, Usta, & Doyle, 2016).When people are on social media, they tend to increase cultural buffers to manage death anxiety. Thus, the most critical aspect for future research should be focused on investigating direct links between social and death anxiety.

Mortality Salience Measures

Once this research is underway, there must be a way to manipulate or measure MS. Oftentimes, studies aim to trigger MS with a question. For example, in a study by Gebauer, Raab, and Carbon (2017), existential threats were issued using two prompts: (1) “please briefly describe the emotions that the thought of your own death arouses in you” and (2) “jot down, as specifically as you can, what you think will happen to you when you physically die” (Gebauer et al., 2017). However, there are better ways that MS can be measured when researchers aim to discover whether some other object or situation is an MS prime. One of these measures is the Death Anxiety Scale. In a study by Lopes and Jaspal (2015), this scale was used after participants watched a news report on a terrorist attack or watched a child’s sleeping patterns, which was the control.The scale was used to determine the “level of anxiety the participant feels in relation to death” after watching the news report (Lopes & Jaspal, 2015).

There are seven popular scales that psychology studies often use to measure death-anxiety.These scales are the Boyar, Collett and Lester, Dickstein, Handal, Lester,Templer, andTempler/McMordie scales (McMordie, 1982).These scales measure MS, but they do not prime it. Rather, they help determine MS primes.When examining psychometric measures (including internal consistency reliability, test-retest reliability, content validity, construct validity, convergent validity, discriminant validity, concurrent validity, predictive validity, and absence of response set), McMordie found theTempler Scale was the most adequate scale (1982).Although theTempler/McMordie Scale attempted to improve upon theTempler Scale, it did not significantly improve any psychometric aspect of the original scale.Therefore, theTempler Scale would probably be the best scale to measure death-anxiety in future research.

Conclusion

Additional research would shed critical light on increasing accessibility and engagement on social media.The scope of social media and the potential that social media can have in shaping views and manipulating actions validates the importance of knowing if social media increases

Mortality Salience (MS), because it may then lead to certain destructive behaviors associated withTerror ManagementTheory (TMT).These behaviors include defending individual worldviews in ways that lead to attacking opposing worldviews.These behaviors also influence what people think about others based on the content that others post online. People may have positive opinions of those who make posts that align with their worldview. On the other hand, they may have negative opinions of those who make posts that oppose their worldview.Additional research is needed to determine what impact that social media has on death anxiety. Further, additional research may also demonstrate that social media has more in common with MS triggers than previously thought.

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Art Gallery

Bellerive understands the power and beauty black and white art holds and will continue to feature such imagery in our publications, but we also recognize how important it is to be able to see them in the way they were submitted black and white or color. So, to see these photographs and works of art in this way, search the QR code provided to view the original images. Enjoy!

Author Biographies

C.J. Acosta is an alumnus of UMSL and recently found his passion for writing a little over a year ago. He hopes to have his first book published soon and was recently published inTheWrite Launch online literary magazine.

Audri Adams is a proud Honors College alumna, two-time Bellerive staff member, and current employee of the college. She received her BA in history, ProfessionalWriting Certificate, and Pierre Laclede Honors College Certificate in Fall 2017. She then returned to UMSL as a GraduateTeaching Assistant while she pursued her MA in history, which she obtained in Spring 2020. She currently works as the Administrative Associate for the Pierre Laclede Honors College.

Nonni Adams is an art education major. She transferred from St. Charles Community College to UMSL in Fall 2020 with hopes of pursuing her passions for art and teaching. Nonni’s hobbies include painting, photography, and writing poetry.

Madison Beirne is an elementary education andTESOL major and Honors College senior who is passionate about environmental education and social justice. She hopes to pursue a master’s degree in urban environmental education and address environmental racism through research-based practices. She is also an avid tree climber, bird watcher, and bug toucher.

Aman Chishti is a public policy administration major with minors in biology, chemistry, psychology, and political science. She serves as the Comptroller of Student Government Association and

President of the UMSL chapter ofTau Sigma, and she works as an organic chemistry research intern and writing tutor on campus. In her free time, she enjoys volunteering at a free clinic and women’s shelter.

Allison Christman is a senior in her undergraduate program studying to be an elementary school teacher. In her free time she loves to read, write, take pictures, and sing. She also plays three different instruments.Allison has played the clarinet since 6th grade. Her sources of inspiration mainly come from either nature or anything pertaining to her past.

Rita Csapo-Sweet is an Associate Professor of Media Studies and has been teaching at UMSL since 1991 in the Departments of: Communication;Theater Dance and Media Studies;Theater and Cinema Arts; and the Honors College (since 2019). She is also a documentary filmmaker whose work has been broadcast on cable television and PBS in the United States as well as featured in multiple nations in the European Union. Rita has co-produced programs on media analysis and criticism with HungarianTV since 1993.The documentary Made in Auschwitz: the Untold Story of Block 10, co-produced with colleagues in Germany, was broadcast on television in Israel, France, Germany and elsewhere in the European Union. It is currently on the international film festival circuit.

Csapo-Sweet has published numerous articles and book chapters on cinema; arts and culture of Eastern Europe; propaganda; cultural/educational foreign exchange; and photography. Her camera is always by her side.

According to Csapo-Sweet, “My work is always at the nexus of: history, random typography, abstraction and propaganda. As a child of the ColdWar, I have been inspired throughout my life by images of conflicting ideologies. I am fascinated by color and texture and layering of text and image.”

Kayla Danielson is a graduate student in the English MA program.

Emily DiCarlo is a senior majoring in psychology and minoring in Spanish and CAST. She is a poetry enthusiast. She hopes to complete her master’s degree in clinical mental health counseling to become a high school counselor.

Bre E. is an anthropology student, cat lover, coffee addict, and, most importantly, a childhood abuse survivor.A major goal in their life is to advocate for those who don’t have a voice yet; proving you can be the person you want to be, even when terrible things have happened.

Jessie Eikmann earned an MFA from UMSL in December 2019. She is trying to get back into writing while also working the midnight shift at the grocery store.Alas, it is not the easiest thing ever. Sometimes she misses the competing voices and noise of workshop feedback. In addition to campus journals, she also has gotten work published in Unbroken and Sou’wester.

Samantha Fairchild is a senior in college and majoring in cultural anthropology/archaeology. She hopes to get her PhD one day and get the opportunity to travel the world. Samantha works on art during her free time. She loves painting and creating detailed makeup looks.

Geri Friedline is an AssociateTeaching Professor in Pierre Laclede Honors College. Geri was an enthusiastic student in the first Bellerive seminar in fall 2003, was a featured writer in earlier issues, and is currently the even more enthusiastic teacher of the Bellerive seminar. Being a part of the production of eighteen issues has been so inspiring, she just had to take a chance to be a featured writer in this year’s issue.

Rachel Gabrian is a senior in sociology at UMSL. She enjoys writing creatively as a form of journaling and self-expression.

Melanie Guzman is a junior at UMSL. Spending time outside and taking photographs of quotidian life is typically what she’ll be doing in her limited spare time. She hopes to maintain this hobby while pursuing a career working within an undecided field of social work.While photography is not her main focus when considering a career, she aims to incorporate creativity into her daily life, encouraging others to do the same.

Jorden Hendree is a studio art major and current Honors College student who is looking to fulfill his goal of attaining his BFA.Art often helps him to express a range of emotion and prose depending on the subject matter, and he often finds ways to try and put an abstract design on his artwork. He hopes to one day work for a professional designer company.

Cat Hill is a junior in her first year at UMSL, having previously studied at Maryville University. She is pursuing a degree in secondary education with a content focus in English. She is frequently told that she likesTaylor Swift too much because the haters are indeed gonna hate hate hate hate hate.

Nathaniel Hunton completed a BA in physics with a minor in mathematics at UMSL. Nathaniel has been among the strongest fans of Bellerive. He has been a student staff member and a featured poet in multiple issues. Nathaniel’s favorite method of work is to just sit down and write, but, unfortunately, this is also his least favorite method. For the record, Nathaniel would like to declare that blinkers are your friends.

Kiana is a junior and majoring in English.Writing has always been her passion.After being diagnosed with depression, she stopped writing. She’s hoping that being back in school will fan that flame and she will once again write freely.

Cullen Landolt is a warm can of Diet Doctor Shasta. However, as a supersenior at UMSL, he might earn his bachelor’s degree in English and fulfill his childhood dreams of becoming a miserable gas station attendant. To his friends and professors:Thank you. Without your relentless encouragement, Cullen’s notebooks would not have seen the light of day.

Malik Lendell is a writer and poet native to St. Louis who aspires to open minds and inspire through his works.

Seaira Lett is currently aTeach for America corps member seeking a master’s in early childhood education. She’s obsessed with language, demonstrated by her bachelor’s degree in Spanish and linguistics and her job as a Spanish immersion kindergarten teacher in Kansas City.After her time inTFA, she hopes to pursue a PhD in linguistics and continue her research on the morphosyntax of Mayan languages.

Sarah Jane Matt is a studio art and graphic design student and a fantasy novel enthusiast. She has a passion for combining art and story whenever possible. Her favorite pastimes are petting cats and collecting shiny things, and she loves listening to musicals.There’s a million things she hasn’t done, but just you wait.

Noelle McGuire is a criminology major and a student in the Honors College. She enjoys photography and writing in her free time.

Mimi Mead is a senior majoring in psychology, with a minor in management and a certificate in workplace and organizational science.After graduating in May 2021, she plans on pursuing a master’s degree in industrial and organizational psychology. In her free time, Mimi likes to draw, play video games, and hang out with her boyfriend. She also loves cats and wants two kittens in the future.

Bobby Meile keeps on keeping on, even nine years after graduating from UMSL. In that long-ago time, he was an Honors College student and a Bellerive staff member. Legend says that he’s still out there, somewhere, writing and reading poetry. Rumors that he’s friends with Bigfoot are, heart-breakingly, pure fantasy.

Kenny Miller is above all else a degenerate. Now that the harsh reality is out of the way, Kenny is an Honors College student pursuing a degree in history and what he’ll do with that is up to speculation. In his free time Kenny enjoys reading, playing ukulele, playing video games, and cherishing the existence of all dogs and some cats.

Molly Motes is a senior studying Japanese and English at UMSL. She loves nothing more than traveling around Japan and learning about other worldviews.

Bridget Muise is a junior at UMSL and has written various short stories and poems, but this is her first to be submitted to be published. She is studying to be a clinical psychologist and enjoys all forms of art as a hobby.

Nicole Newman is a 22 year old senior at UMSL majoring in Spanish and minoring in philosophy. Ever since she was five, her family members encouraged her to dive into her imagination and to never stop writing for recreation. She received a composition notebook as a birthday gift from her great-grandmother every year until her death in 2016. She credits her encouragement in particular for her continuous love of writing.

Kai Perry is a studio art major who mostly focuses on digital art. He one day hopes to become a children’s book illustrator.

Brianna Petty is a junior pursuing a degree in biology with hopes of working in conservation or with animals. She has had a fascination with taking pictures since she was little and aspires to sell prints of her photography and handmade jewelry at some point in the near future.

Dana Pierson writes.

Kristina Pratt is a senior at the Honors College and is excited to complete her bachelor’s degree in English. She loves to write, read, and explore. Kristina has high hopes of writing a best-selling novel that can help people the same way her favorite books have.

B. Ready is currently creating works of poetry and fiction which focus on thirdculture perspective, free-range philosophy, and the transgender experience. He enjoys drumming, meditating, and catching waves.

Jelena BasaraTomasevic is an MSW student. Her dream is to create a more accepting society through social work and a creative lens. She has a specific interest in using art as a medium to develop communication among communities.

L.H.Varney writes at home, alongside his wife and a dog who’s scared of the dark. One day, he’ll teach high school English.

TaylorWeintrop is an English major looking to leave a mark in the world of literary studies.With her sights set on graduate school, she hopes to one day completely change the status quo of how English studies is taught in high schools around the country.Writing has always been her passion, and with her growing and intensifying interest in political science, she is sure that one day her voice will be used to pursue a more ethical, compassionate, empathetic, and interdisciplinary humanity and society.

Staff Notes

Art Committee

The Art Committee is full of one thing—dedication.We are dedicated for issue 21 of Bellerive publication to proudly show off the amazing works of art from the university including, students, faculty, and staff. Whether it be transforming your art from spectacular color to inspiring black and white, or piecing together a cover which encapsulates all of your hard work, we were honored to be a part of this remarkable project. Creativity, passion, and drive is what we put into Bellerive and hope it shows! So, cheers to a wonderful publication and an equally wonderful team!

Editing Committee

To insert a comma, or to not insert a comma, that is the question:

Whether‘tis nobler to fix the grammar

That matches that of the mighty Gregg,

Or to stick to the author’s original intention

And by so doing, publish them.

Every single one of us is so grateful to have read so many wonderful submissions.We toiled countless hours of our lives away typing, typing, typing. Our spines became one with the computer chairs and our wrists formed a hunch that can never be undone. Our brains fried from the grammar rules that jabbed with their mighty sword. Our weary troops led by the wise Sage Geri prevailed against this powerful foe, allowing us to spread the great manuscript: Bellerive Issue 21.

The HighWitch of the Court Shelley, the Priestess of the Gregg Temple Molly, and the Royal Zoom Jester Cat have at last completed their greatest quest...

And thus, became editors.

Layout Committee

Bellerive’s lucky number is one million—one million spelling mistakes, one million cups of 3am coffee, and one million instances of “Why won’t this mother-effing computer do what I tell it to do?” Because it’s true, really. In our scrambling to produce issue 21, this class faced every tragedy from paper cuts to war crimes.

It’s enough to make any sane person tear their hair out. It’s enough to make any sane person take one look at Gerianne Friedline and sprint in the opposite direction. Now, speaking from the finish line, we’ve only one more secret to share:

It was worth it.

From the top left, moving clockwise: Gerianne Friedline, Molly Motes, Cullen Landolt, Nonni Adams, Shelley Pittman, Justus Naumann, Cat Hill, Brianna Petty

Special

Thanks to our alumni

Though you have moved on from UMSL, you remain a valued part of Bellerive.You’ve been published by us, and sometimes you’ve also been Bellerive staff members.You complete the cycle of writers at all stages of development.You inspire with your continued pursuit of creative endeavors and your willingness to share your creative works.

to our readers

Your purchase of this volume signifies an investment in the future of Bellerive and supports the Honors College’s goal of promoting excellence in the arts.We hope you enjoyed this issue and continue to be a patron of ours.We can’t operate without the continued support of readers like you, and we hope that you will enjoy Bellerive for years to come.

to our future submitters

We look forward to and welcome your creative works. If you’d like to submit your previously unpublished poetry, prose, art, and music to the upcoming issue of Bellerive, you can find our submission form at facebook.com/bellerivepublication. Our submission window is from March 1 through October 1.

to our current and future contributors

We can’t thank you enough for your financial support of Bellerive. Your helping hand literally publishes our book. If you’d like to be a part of benefitting Bellerive, please visit bit.ly/givebellerive, and select “The Bellerive Fund.” Thank you!

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