The Mini-Marque 2016

MINI M ARQUE

Digital Artwork | Jackson Singhal | 8

A Note From The Directors: The concept of this year’s magazine was inspired from the realization that every student and faculty member has their own culture, which shapes the everyday lifestyle at St. Mark’s. Ancient civilizations form a connection between everyone at 10600 Preston Road. We all come from our own unique background, from unique religions, and from unique lifestyles. Our stories evolve through religion and family.

From Asia, to the Americas, to Mesopotamia, to Greece and Rome, we all are deeply connected through our roots, but we have our own beliefs and dreams. Around the world dozens of cultures have set a rendezvous for St. Mark’s School of Texas. Everything from Ancient Mayan temples, that remind us of our ancestors, to a ring that has gone through five generations and takes us back to our roots. Every story, poem, relic, or tradition all relate back to a common ancestry.

10600 Preston Road provides a haven to express our own opinions, to talk about our heritage, and to share our background. Our cultures inspire new ideas and inventions that have benefited the world as a whole. Paulo Coelho once said, “Culture makes people understand each other better.

And if they understand each other better in their soul, it is easier to overcome the economic and political barriers. But first they have to understand that their [neighbor] is, in the end, just like them, with the same problems, the same questions.” Our background and culture makes us who we are, and it connects us to our school, community, and world with traditions and ideas. We hope you enjoy our exploration of the Ancient Civilizations of St. Mark’s with us.

- Sam and Charlie ‘20

GALAXY

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The stars that cover our universe shine, From millions of miles away.

Each like our sun, But with its own history.

The universe is mystical and unimaginable, Its realms we cannot comprehend.

For thousands of years, Civilizations all around the world, Viewed the stars above them, As idols, guidance, and pictures.

What we cannot believe, We do not understand.

So what lays billions of miles away, Is still a mystery to us.

POETRY | HENRY STACHE||8

BEYOND

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Tab le of Contents

MESOPOTAMIA pg. 8 - D. Xi “Neolithic Revolution” pg. 9 - J. Singhal “Blink” pg. 12 - B. Elliot “How the Moon and Stars Were Formed" pg. 18 - S. Yajnik "What's Lying Ahead..." pg. 19 - J. Ivarra "The Anger of The Red Man"

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Photo | Sam Ahmed | 8

Greece and Rome pg. 23 - I. Gupta "Greek Fire" pg. 25 - P. Sullivan “Family Spirit" pg. 27 - C. Rubarth “The Hellhound” pg. 29 - J. Mahowald “Backwards” pg. 32- S. Thirunagari “The Wrong Path” pg. 33 - S. Ahmed “Addition” pg. 35 - A. Geng “Autumn” pg. 36 - S. Sweet “Emperor”

Tab le of Contents ASIA pg. 40 - B. Wang "Choo Choo!" pg. 45 - E. Ellis “The Truth About the Great Wall" pg. 47 - W. Lee "A Postcard from India" pg. 50 - B. Elliot "Inside Looking Out" pg. 51 - B. Meyer “Telling Tales” pg. 53 - J. Thompson "The Old Man and the Boat"

The Americas pg. 57 - D. Ardilla "My Theme for Humanities 8" pg. 60 - C. Katz “19 April 1775" pg. 61 - F. Omonije “FIsayo” pg. 64 - J. Singhal “Filler Poem” pg. 66 - M. Antes “The Tree” pg. 68 - Z. Mehta “Do You Have Hope?” pg. 70 - S. Musco "Life Through the Eyes of an African-American Teen"

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Photo | Brendan Goldaber | 8 Digital Artwork | Rohit Vemuri | 8

SECTION

Ancient Mesopotamia was the beginning of the present age. It represents creation. The plough, the wheel, the chariot, were just a few of their innovations. The Mesopotamians advanced writing, mathematics, astronomy, and medicine. All that we learn today traces back to them. They were bold explorers, and creative geniuses. They changed not only our understanding of the world, but the universe as well.

As Marksmen, we are greatly impacted by the Mesopotamians’ teachings, and strive to follow the path of our ancestors.

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Neolithic Revolution

nonfiction | Darren Xi | 6 Photo | Rahul Vashi | 8

A t the dawn of our evolution, the invention of farming, discovery of fire, and creation of religion brought us over the threshold to modern human-like behavior. To begin with, a big step in our development was farming, which introduced many ideas that altered the early human ways. Farming allowed early humans to stay in one place and form civilizations. It also got rid of hunter-gatherers so acquiring food was much safer, so the population grew intensely. Lastly, when the Neolithic man farmed, there became a surplus of food that they could use to domesticate animals. Next, early humans discovered fire, which improved their living conditions significantly.

Fire brought heat and warmth to the stone age people and helped them stay warm in the winter so they could travel to many colder places and eventually migrate around the world. Plus, it provided light so that people could stay up late at night in essence, doubling productivity. Fire also provided healthier food which made fewer people get sick, so the population rose. Finally, religion created many abstract ideas that eventually matured into the thought of afterlife. The Neolithic humans believed in gods and goddesses associated with the four elements: water, fire, earth, and air.

They believed the gods and goddesses were responsible for natural forces such as rain. So then, the early humans made the connection that the gods and goddesses were happy. Then there would be more rain, and in turn, a more abundant crop. In conclusion, the invention of farming, discovery of fire, and the creation of religion 8 brought us over the threshold of dominance on planet earth.

There once was a child A sad child All around him he saw Things he wished to look away from Graffiti Broken things Dreamers reduced to beggars One day he came across A pair of glasses “Can’t hurt to try” He put them on…

Nothing changed Until he blinked And the gray clouds rolled away.

Another blink The walls were clean and shining.

Blink The streets were empty of traffic.

For many days he continued on Setting the world right in his own way He never stopped to think of the others

Setting the world right in his own way He never stopped to think of the others Where they went when he blinked his eyes.

He didn’t know Nor did he care.

He was happy, alone in a perfect world No one to bother him No one to call him names No one to give him chores.

All gone with a blink.

But, as he blinked, he stopped to think There was No one to care for him No one to lift him up No one to be his friend He fell in a heap And cried.

And in his tears, he could not stop.

The world vanished before his eyes.

Blink.

Blink.

Blink.

Photo | Collin Katz | 7

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Photo | Collin Katz | 7

How the Moon and Stars were Formed Fiction | Buck Elliot | 7 Way back in time, when creatures were new to Earth, and humans had not yet come to be, the sky was full of a vibrant color. Splashes of red, blue, and purple mixed in the sky, streaked across it like paintbrushes on a canvass to create a beautiful sight. It was so beautiful, in fact, that every creature would sleep all day in wait for the time when these colors came out. Then they would look at the colors in the night sky, and would stare in awe, watching the colors change and unfold in glorious splendor. There were a few, however, who did not like the night sky, and Coyote was one of them. You see, Coyote loved the night, and he also loved peace and quiet; so when Coyote’s favorite time to relax was interrupted by the sounds of creatures talking amongst themselves and breaking the peace that Coyote wanted, he wasn’t very happy at all.

“I must stop this nonsense,” he thought to himself slyly, “and I have just the idea to do it.”

So Coyote gathered all the night animals, such as, Wolf, Owl, and Moth, and told them his plan to take the beautiful sky away from the adoring crowd. He told them that it would give them all back their peace and quiet during the night. The night animals were skeptical.

They thought Coyote would trick them, but Coyote assured them that he wouldn’t. He did this by swearing a sacred oath to take all the blame if they were caught. The animals then thought amongst themselves, and came to the decision to help Coyote.

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The night animals then waited for four days preparing their plan. Then, on the fourth night, Coyote signaled for Wolf to begin his distraction.

“Everyone, Everyone!” Wolf shouted, running over to the field where all the other animals were nestled. “I have something much more beautiful than even the night sky itself. In fact, it’s so beautiful, you will never want to look at the night sky again.”

The creatures were curious, and they asked Wolf where this great beautiful thing was. “It is in my hands,” said Wolf, “but to see it you will need to follow me.”

Wolf then ran towards his home and Coyote began his part of the plan.

Coyote took a part of his own soul, which was dark and corrupted, and he gave a bit each to Moth and Owl, and said to them, "take this darkness and spread it all over the sky, and blot out the color so that no one will ever be able to see it again."

Moth and Owl then flew up as high as they could and began to spread it all over the color. As they did this, Owl realized just what the color had meant to the animals, so instead of spreading the rest of his darkness, as Moth did, he flew to the cave of the great being and told him about Coyote's horrible plan to take away the beauty from the sky. The being was angry and he told Owl to take him to the night animals right away.

Owl showed the being the way, and he flew towards the animals at once.

The being then saw Moth and he came to him and grabbed him before he could destroy any more of the beautiful color. It was too late, however, and all of the color had been painted.

"Moth, what have you done?" the being said. "From now on, you and your next of kin will be forever cursed to fly towards the light, be it dangerous or not."

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Photo | Collin Katz | 7

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Of course we know that this is why moths always fly towards the light.

He then flew down to the ground and stopped Wolf and the large crowd behind him. "Wolf, I am disappointed," he said. "I thought you were better than to participate in this awful plan of ridding the sky of its color. For this I will give you the curse of walking on all fours.�

Only then did the other animals realize that the color of the sky was gone and that the beauty they would never see again. The animals cried and howled on the ground in pain. To them it seemed all beauty was gone from the world. The great being felt bad for the animals, so he took a part of his own soul which was light and good, and sprinkled it over a few parts of the sky, which created the stars. "There is still not enough," he thought, so he took even more of his own soul, packed it into a ball, and put it up into the sky, creating the moon. Then he turned to the animals, who were still too busy sobbing to notice the new beauty in the sky. "Look, animals, and see that I have created new beauty for you." The animals saw the moon and the stars, and were somewhat satisfied. The great being then moved on to find Coyote. He found him cackling near his home in the forest, obviously satisfied with his evildoings. "Coyote!" said the being in a loud booming voice. "How could you have taken the beauty out of the sky, when you know how much the other animals had loved it. For this, I will banish you to live in the mountains, and you and your next of kin will be cursed to forever howl at the sky during the night." Coyote was then cursed, and that is why he always appears to be howling at the moon. The great being then left to go back to his home. He was very tired after using up most of his soul, and he would sleep for a long time. From that point on the moon and stars have inhabited the sky, replacing the beautiful colors. Sometimes you can see a little bit of the spirit of the lost 15 colors in the night sky. We know it today as the Aurora Borealis, or the Northern Lights.

Photo | Collin Katz | 7

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Photo | Josh Mysore | 7

What’s Lying Ahead...

Poem | Shiv Yajnik | 7

Purple mountains frame the sky, Blue and green waters lying below, A small wooden boat gliding by, Drifting off under the sun’s glow, A fiery light from the distance, Chills the scene and the soul, Because it is our ignorance, We don’t know what we don’t know.

Sometimes sitting in silent wonder, Not knowing where my life will go, My thoughts begin to wander, To the warm and fiery glow I stare at the light without a blink, Knowing now that my future lies ahead, And now came the time to think, About the future that is unsaid

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The Anger of the Red Man Fiction | Julian Ivarra | 7 Photo | Collin Katz | 7

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Long ago, the Earth was engulfed in darkness. There were no people, no animals, and no plants. Mountains were nowhere in sight, and oceans were nonexistent. The only thing the Earth had was a single volcano. This volcano had no noteworthy or distinctive features; it was an ordinary, plain volcano. One day though, this volcano erupted. Ash and lava spewed out of it, but nothing significant happened.

Four days after the first eruption, the volcano erupted once more.

Again, nothing happened. Four days after that, the volcano erupted again, still bringing the same results: ash and lava. After another four days, the volcano erupted for the fourth time ever. This time, something was different.

No lava erupted out, only ash. Suddenly, a red figure emerged from the volcano. It landed at the bottom of the volcano and halted the ash fall. This figure, The Red Man, walked around for a little while. He then decided to climb back up the volcano. It took him four days to reach the top, and once he did, he found a wand. The Red Man waved the wand around in the air. A single human appeared. The man was confused and scared. The Red Man told him he was from the volcano, and that he had created him. The Red Man experimented with the wand to see what it could do.

Suddenly, he felt his stomach get warm. He waved around the wand in an attempt to solve the pain, and a single ear of corn appeared. The Red Man put the corn in his mouth, and the burning stopped.

Later, he began to feel his throat get very warm, like his stomach had earlier. Again, he waved his wand, and a lake appeared at the bottom of the volcano. The Red Man and the other man climbed down the mountain, and put the lake’s contents in their mouths. The burning stopped.

The Man requested to use the wand to try and create more things. The Red Man said no. He said he would make everything they needed to live.

Eventually, The Red Man started creating more humans, more water, and more corn. He made houses for the people, along with clothing. The Man still wanted to try out the wand, so he stole it. He waved it up and down four times, and a single bolt of lightning struck the Red Man. He fell to the ground, and a mysterious force carried him up and into the volcano. The Man took over the settlement, and started making things the Red Man would not make.

He made animals,trees, and mountains. The villagers soon began to show great respect towards him. The Man had soon made a thriving community where everyone was happy and treated well. Four years later, the volcano erupted.

Enormous amounts of lava spewed out, and traveled down the mountain. The lava soon reached the village, and it burned nearly everything. The fires were very hot, and the water from the lake was not enough to stop them. The Man eventually had to use his wand to ensure the safety of everyone.

The Man later realized the Red Man had probably made

the volcano erupt, and that burning his village was his revenge for his murder.

The villagers then moved far away from the volcano, and brought whatever was left of their old village. They set up a new village, and were soon prosperous.

It was like no fire had ever burned down their original village. Four years later though, a lightning bolt struck a house in the village, and set the village ablaze. The Man had to use his wand to stop the fire.The Man remembered how he had killed the Red Man with a lightning bolt, and assumed that the lightning bolt was probably sent by the Red Man as revenge. Despite what had happened, the villagers decided to rebuild their village in the same location. Again, the villagers had made a thriving community, and got on with their normal lives. Four years later, another lightning bolt struck the village, and another fire broke out.

Again, it was stopped. After that incident, lightning bolts rarely hit the village anymore, and fires that did break out were because of human error rather than a lightning strike.

The Man and the villagers now thought of the fires as the anger of the Red Man, and told the villagers it was the Red Man getting revenge. The villagers taught their children that fires happened when the Red Man was angry, and those children taught their children that same lesson. Now, fires are regarded was the anger of the Red Man, who still desires revenge for his murder.

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GREECE &7&* ROM E

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Digital Artwork | Charlie Rubarth | 8

SECTION

The Ancient Greeks and Romans developed the basis of the culture in use today. The foundations of most modern art, philosophy, political systems, and educational ideas originated from the Greco-Roman Era. The students at Saint Mark’s School of Texas study the Greeks and Romans from the second graders acting out The Iliad and The Odessey to the Upper schoolers’ tenets of the Leadership and Ethics Council. The Greek and Roman cultures ushered in a new era of cultural advancement which continues to this day.

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Greek Fire Poetry | Ishan Gupta | 8

Digital Artwork | Charlie Rubarth | 8

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Napalm, Napalm The Greek fire The ultimate weapon Of the Byzantine Empire

It murders and murders But never goes on trial It keeps on riding For thousands of miles

Please, Please Don’t start a war We’ve done nothing wrong I can’t stand it anymore

It burns and burns Goes without end Yet it never heals It never mends

Why, oh why Must we suffer We want our past ways Of food and slumber

We must break this pattern Go take a stand But if they’ve taken over Constantinople What chance do we have?

We try and try To put it out We throw enough water To cause us a drought

Wiser and wiser We intended to be But now it’s all about The fight for peace

Napalm, Napalm The Greek fire The ultimate weapon Against all our desires

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Fam i ly Sp irit Po etry | Paul Sulli van | 8 P hoto | To by N wafor | 8

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The wind in the breeze flows unhindered But without guidance it wanders Blowing out fires, rain and storms Slowly losing speed, it transforms Bestowing its power into animate objects Giving shape to thoughts and complex subjects Finally, its power is controlled And into my family it rolled From gentle giants to small riots The wind gave to us its finest We heard its cadence through wind chimes It told us through riddles and rhymes to be kind And although tangibly it is long gone And its power is almost drawn We still feel its influence that we try to ascertain But only through us its power is maintained So I will let you in on a little secret That this is our family spirit

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Th e H ellhoun d Po etry an d D i gital Artwork | Ch arli e Rubarth |

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Please, be wary As he draws near, Else your carcass he’ll bury Reeking of fear.

His gaze is a mirror Of all your sins.

It grows ever clearer As you lie in his inn.

The immortal sentinel, The watchful eye, High on his pedestal, Knows when you’ll die.

His paws leave a trail Of misery and pain.

As you become frail, Your strength he will gain.

Torture he brings to us, His eternal prisoners, Anguish he sings to us, The harsh executioner.

Flee, for he approaches With his glowing, red skin.

Upon us, death encroaches Wiih a malicious grin.

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Poetry | Jamie Mahowald | 7

Photo | Sam Ahmed | 8

Backwards

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Hello I just want to say I don’t know why you would think that I’m trying to disappoint you Because honestly I care what you think about me And I could never say that I’m good at this And I can’t say That you’re not good But what I will say is Your view on me Creates My attitude Do you have a problem with that?

But all I want to tell you is: If I’m making you not want to be friends with me I’m sorry I will have an entirely different attitude on you now Now read this end to beginning.

s d r aw k ca B I will have an entirely different attitude on you now I’m sorry If I’m making you not want to be friends with me But all I want to tell you is: Do you have a problem with that?

My attitude Creates Your view on me But what I will say is That you’re not good And I can’t say I’m good at this And I could never say that I care what you think about me Because honestly I don’t know why you would think that I’m trying to disappoint you I just want to say Hello 30

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Digital Artwork | Charlie Rubarth | 8

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The Wrong Path Poetry | Sai Thirunagari | 7

They have kind friends, Helpful and supportive.

But the desire to be more famous lurks within, The yearning and dream of popularity stretches to two paths, The unchallenging paved road of unkindness, Or the arduous dirt trail of sympathy.

The new route they select, Initiates the pushing, shoving, teasing, and laughing, An alteration into the opposite of themselves, Like the duality of man.

Many are lured into the trap of this road, Unfortunately, it changes them for the worse.

Close and amiable friends drift away, Only the others who are similar to them remain, They taunt and sneer at the harmless students, And transform into a defect of society.

They need to revert, And amend to acting friendly, cooperative, and beneficial.

We must direct them onto the righteous path.

We must nudge them onto the rocky trail of consideration and compassion.

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Add icti on

Po etry | Sam Ah med | 8

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It is there for you 24-7, Viewing social media, gaming, surfing the web, Connecting you to friends and family, Just a screen created for entertainment, And almost a necessity now, It can take over your life, It can help you in a crisis, It can occupy your attention, It provides happiness, amusement, And is an addiction for many, Disconnecting you from human interaction, Just a screen, but a gateway to addiction, Consuming every second, every minute, every hour, of every day, Anxious for someone to post, Checking if someone snapchatted or texted you back, You forget who you are and what you will become, It becomes your identity, It is your phone.

D i gital Artwork | Ch arli e Rubarth | 8

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Autumn Poetry | Alex Geng | 6

Autumn is the time of cheerful feast, It is the time for a change.

Leaves turn red and gold, The breeze has grown stronger, colder

Autumn is a time for festive joy, For good spirits and happy times.

Autumn is a time for a bright, clear sky, It is a time for preparation for the coming winter.

This state of time is truly wonderful, People rejoice in autumn.

Autumn is really a great time, A time for all spirits to climb.

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emperor Poetry | Shane sweet | 6

If I could be Emperor I would dress in robes of fur I would get more slumber And receive many gifts of myrrh.

If the country will be mine The everything will be just fine I pledge to be benign And I’ll go sail the Rhine Many times I’ve been told My idea was worse than mold I’d have to be extremely bold But it was better than gold

Photo | Toby Nwafor | 8

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Digital Artwork | Brendan Goldaber | 8 Digital Artwork | Meyer Zinn | 8

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SECTION

From the Taj Mahal to the Great Wall of China, Asia is the most cultured and advanced continent in the world because of its bright, artistic people, exotic food, and their intricate heritage. Asian people make many significant contributions to the world today. Asia is the epicenter of religious thought and technological innovation. It has been an inspiration for the rest of the world, helping us grow and prosper.

Photo | Sam Ahmed | 8

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Choo Choo!

Fiction | Benny Wang | 7 “All

aboard!” the conductor bellowed as the last of the passengers scrambled to their seats.

Brian was not excited, not one bit.

Why did his family have to ride an old-fashioned train instead of a high-speed bullet train? They were in Tokyo after all; it was 2013, not the 1900s. When Brian pestered his mother about his dilemma, she would half-heartedly reply, “Because your baby brother can’t handle it. Besides, enjoy this beautiful experience.” Yet another problem in his burdensome life was his childish brother. The little child always seemed to hold a grudge against Brian. As Brian gazed out the window, he wondered why his family had even come to this boring trip. The airplane flight was tiring enough, now they have to ride a train slower than Brian’s brother crawling. Just when the ride could not get any worse, the lights flickered for a second, and then flicked off.

For a minute all that was in the

air was silence. No one moved, no one spoke, and no one panicked, like the world was frozen in time.

Out of nowhere, a conductor emerged from the train door. With remarkably exceptional English, he instructed, “Sorry about this.

There has been a problem with the lights.” As the passengers glared at each other, Brian ignored it and continued to observe the sky. The stars looked beautiful in Tokyo, the radiant light forming constellations, it was truly remarkable. Still, it didn’t change the fact that his family was taking this useless train ride to some other Japanese town.

What a way to spend two weeks of his summer! He was sure that his friends were back in America enjoying smoothies and actually having fun. At that moment, the lights came back on and the train began to move.

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“Wow!” was the first thought Brian had when he saw the gleaming skyscrapers that pierced the sky. “Brother, let me see,” Brian’s little brother Tim ordered.

Brian leaned back uncomfortably, Tim mushing his nose against the window. Wishing to explore the train, Brian excused himself and shuffled towards the back of the car where the stairs to a viewing deck were located. However, he took a wrong turn and found himself facing a door with an “Electrical Room” sign. Curious, Brian opened the door.

Upon opening the door, Brian felt a blast of heat. “Am I in a sauna?” Brian wondered aloud.

The room was dimly lit by red lights, and smelled like fresh paint.

In front of him was a hall that seemed endless, going as far as he could see. Brian, overcome with excitement, started to run to the end, his feet splashing against the puddles of water. After what seemed like ages, Brian 41 reached a vast, yet still barely lit room. At the center of the

room was an odd-looking machine.

On the front of the machine print read, “Extremely Dangerous Prototype. Do NOT activate unless given permission.”

Intimidated by the words, Brian decided not to use the machine, but at least interpret how the machine worked.

Opening the front door of the machine, Brian found himself in a beautifully decorated interior.

White banners decorated the long walls, while bright lights brought light to the otherwise dark room. A confusing set of panels were at the front. Clumsily, Brian tripped and pulled a lever down.

The machine made a snapping sound as it started to vibrate rapidly.

Brian was just cradling his head, making sure that he would not be hurt. A luminous light flashed in his eyes, forcing him to shield them. The light continued until the machine came to an unexpected halt. Scrambling up, Brian looked up to the windows, astonished by what he saw. In his face were jungle trees and moss, replacing the room he had seen earlier. Crawling out

of the machine, Brian perceived a similar humid weather. Before he could complain, a creature similar to a dinosaur stepped out from the bushes.

Gingerly, Brian started to edge away from the dinosaur. However, the dinosaur ignored Brian and took a big chomp of a nearby tree, signaling that it was an herbivore. “How can this be?”

Brian speculated. “How could a dinosaur exist?” As he pondered over that question, Brian came to a startling realization. The machine had brought him back in time.

Expeditiously, Brian bolted to the machine, hoping to reverse the problem. A problem of the slightest occurred to Brian. He did not know how to operate the machine. Before he could try out every single one of the awkward buttons, deafening stomps of a dinosaur spread across the jungle. Hoping for the best and wishing that is was an herbivore, Brian turned towards the bushes.

He didn’t exactly strike the jackpot, the head of a Tyrannosaurus Rex poking towards him.

Howling for his life, Brian dashed toward the opposite direction of the T-Rex. Unfortunately, the carnivore chased at him, snapping its huge jaws. It was evident that the T-Rex would catch up to Brian in a few steps, so he jumped to a tree, cowering behind it. It was a fatal mistake. The dinosaur had an excellent sense of smell and turned around, facing Brian. They both knew how this was going to end. Except, it didn’t; the T-Rex peculiarly ran away. Shaking his head in disbelief at his luck, Brian started to head back to the machine. As he was walking, Brian stopped. He thought he could feel the ground shaking. Interested, Brian climbed up the tree with extreme difficulty just in time to see a volcano erupt with ash.

“This is how the dinosaurs died!”

Brian determined. This explosion must have led to the extinction of the dinosaurs! A gigantic cloud of dust must have blocked the sunlight! Quickly, 42 he scrambled down the tree

as fast as a cheetah. His eardrums felt like they were going to burst from the loud sounds of the eruption. It looked like he was free, the time machine about 40 yards away with nothing in his path. Of course, there had to be one last obstacle. Two velociraptors, as quick as lightning, burst from nowhere.

Only adding to his problems, ash had started to fall from the sky. For a tense moment, both the raptors and the boy stood still. Then, the headstrong raptors lunged at Brian’s stomach. Adrenaline rushing through his veins, Brian noticed an opening. Hastily, he leaped forward between the two predators. The two raptors crashed into each other like cymbals. He wheezed and coughed from the ash. In no time, Brian took a chance, locating a lever and pushing it up.

It was the same process, a light compelling Brian to shield his eyes. Just like a snap, Brian found himself back in the dark room.

Wondering how mad his mom

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would be at this moment, Brian decided he would not instigate the fire. Without procrastinating, Brian ran to the hall with his remaining strength. Kicking the door open, Brian neglected the shouts of the conductor and edged his way to his seat. When he reached his seat, Brian was astonished at how calm his mom was. “Mom, aren’t you worried? Brian inquired. “You were gone for a minute,” his mom replied, slightly irritated. Slumping in his seat, Brian was appalled at what had just happened. He wondered how a T-Rex and a raptor could live together, and how Japan could have been a rainforest. Had he traveled to the past or the future?

Alarmingly, Brian glimpsed out the window, only to find that he was underwater. “What!” Brian hollered a bit too loud. Everyone stared.

What had he done? Slumping in his seat, Brian knew he had to return to the time machine, for his trip was not over yet.

Photo | Collin Katz | 7

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The Truth About If I were to ask you right now if the Great Wall of China was beneficial, what would you say?

Over 2,000 years ago, a cruel ruler named Qin ordered that a wall be constructed that would protect against the barbarians, the Xiongnu.

When we look at the difficulties of building the Great Wall, we’re challenged to ask ourselves a question, “Was the Great Wall of China worth it?” I think not. The reasons why the Great Wall of China was a complete waste of time are the harsh environment, high casualties, and the costly tribute to the Xiongnu.

The first reason why the benefits of the Wall didn’t 45

outweigh the cost was the deadly environment. Peasants, who worked seven-day work weeks with little food, worked eight months of winter when temperatures reach 20 to 30 below zero. Not only that, but also peasant farm families were forced to move north and west to colonize the Chinese frontier and to build 4,000 miles of wall. This shows how badly the Emperor treated his slaves and his soldiers. And because of this, Qin wasn’t Emperor for very long.

Another reason the Wall wasn’t worth it was because of the high death rates associated with its construction and maintenance.

the Great Wall Brutal fighting against the Xiongnu occurred for much of 2nd century BCE. One campaign reported 80 percent Han casualties. Such was a terrible cost to pay. With all of these deaths, people started to migrate to the Xiongnu territory anyway to escape the cruelty of the Chinese, totally defeating the purpose of the wall.

The last reason the Great Wall wasn’t beneficial was because the Chinese continuously paid tribute to the Xiongnu. In the span of 52 years, 11.25 million pounds of silk, China’s most valuable resource, was given to the Xiongnu with absolutely no return. Also, the Great Wall of China didn’t help defend the empire because the Chinese conquered the Xiongnu in the end anyways. This

also shows that even with all the tribute, the Xiongnu still attacked and killed thousands of innocent people along the Chinese frontier.

Now, some people would argue that the wall slowly, but surely, paid for itself with increased trade along the Silk Road. Nevertheless, upon closer examination, no amount of money could ever pay for the emotional pain these families went through. And that is why, with the harsh environment, high casualties, and the tribute to the Xiongnu, the Great Wall of China was the biggest mistake China ever made.

Nonfiction | Enoch Ellis | 6 Photos | Sam Ahmed | 8

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A Postcard from India Dear Mr. Clayman,

Hello from an alternate timespan. It has been a blast in India! You should really come because of the advanced civilization, the endless trading, and the open teaching session where you can learn about the many religions. I have visited both Harappa and Mohenjo Daro, and the cities shocked me. Both cities are incredibly advanced, even though they are from around 1700 BC. I was able to enjoy the ancient luxury of indoor plumbing. Also, both cities are extremely well planned.

They have a towering fortress that overlooks the rest of the area.

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Defenders at the fortress can watch over the cities’ brick streets, which cross at 90 degree angles. These carefully-crafted paths are lined with storehouses, market stalls, workshops, and houses. In addition, both of the cities have many public wells where I could quench my thirst.

In ancient India, there is a huge variety of products that you can buy. Although they speak Sanskrit, I have still been able to trade and buy jewelry, ivory, and cotton clothes. To trade and buy jewelry, ivory, and cotton clothes. Did you know that the Harappans and Aryans use high-quality tools and developed their own system of weights and

Fiction and Artwork | Winston Lee | 6

and measures? I know. It is mindblowing! I don’t regret my choice of bringing a notepad and a pen because now I have a way of communicating while trading.

Unfortunately, due to the Himalayas and the Hindu Kush (mountain ranges that block foreigners), there is not a wide trade network from outside of India.This whole timetraveling thing has messed up my perception of “normal.”It has also has given me a better understanding of Hinduism, Brahmanism, and Buddhism. I learned about nirvana and becoming one with Brahma.

You have to reunite your atman, or soul, with Brahma, the universal spirit, by reincarnating. I also had the fortune of meeting the Buddha,

or the Enlightened One, and he educated me on Four Noble Truths and the Eightfold Path.

Going to ancient India is a trip that I don’t regret because of the advanced cities, the buzzing trade network, and the plentiful difference of religions.

I extremely urge you to go to ancient India through this device called the “Time Warp 3000 (costs 10 million cosmic bucks).” If you do want to go, I would happily arrange a dual trip to ancient India with you.

With best regards from about 2000 years ago, Winston

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Photo | Rikhil Manduva | 7

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INSIDE LOOKING OUT Poetry | Buck Elliot | 7

Inside, I look,

The skyline in the distance,

Looking out of my room.

It used to be so bright,

I’ve lived here I while,

But now the gray sky

But soon I must move

Seems ominous, like the night

The workers are coming,

I will move far away,

To take us all away.

Maybe even buy a house.

The neighbors I know

But with the small income each week,

I might never see another day.

I could hardly buy a mouse.

In only two days,

I wonder who will tell the man

We must depart this place in shame

who watches us from the office, next door.

The things we wish to leave here,

I wonder who will tell him,

Is fair for taking, fair game

The residential building everyone ignored

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TELLING TALES Nonfiction and Photo | Ben Meyer | 7

During World War II, my grandfather, Henry Meyer, lived in Nazi Germany. He was not a Nazi, but a Jew. In his teenage years, he was preparing his Bar Mitzvah. Before he could have it, the Nazis launched Kristallnacht and destroyed the synagogue that he was going to have it in. It was very dangerous for him there, so his father tried to immigrate to another country where he would be safer and not discriminated against. Although they did not want to move out of Germany, they had to for their own safety. My grandfather, Henry, was the same age as I am now when he fled Germany. He originally attempted to immigrate into America. However, all those who entered the United States needed a sponsor, but his family did not have one.

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Therefore, the only country that would accept them was China.

Before they got to China, they went to Italy to China through Egypt. Many people died during that voyage because the conditions were so poor. When they left Germany, they put all of their family belongings in a large crate that was of course never seen again. They had gone from a comfortable middle-class existence in Germany to a oneroom flat with no bathroom or comforts. My grandfather stayed a long time in what was known as the Shanghai Ghetto, where families who fled the Holocaust were housed. They endured many hardships while in Shanghai, but my grandfather celebrated the Chinese culture and gathered many souvenirs and artifacts during his time in Shanghai.

Although, he was not technically a citizen, he took on many jobs and responsibilities in Shanghai and eventually rose to a position in hotel management within a Chinese hotel chain. He was originally too young to work there, but he was from Germany,

so he was taller than most of the Chinese people. Using that, he said that he was older than he actually was and got the job.

All of the people in that group also fled from Hitler’s persecution in Nazi Germany. He originally wanted to stay in that region of China, but the invasion by the Japanese forced him to leave.

When the Japanese invaded China, my grandfather inventoried much of the substance of the Majestic Cathay Hotel where he worked. At this hotel, the soldiers brought the Cavalry horses into the lobby of the hotel and devastated much of the beauty of the hotel. It was not until after the war when my grandfather’s inventory was praised. After the war, the Japanese actually had to pay the owners because of the damage they inflicted on it.

Eventually, when the war ended, he finally had the chance to go into America, settling in San Francisco, California.

There he met my grandmother, Margot Meyer, whose family also fled the holocaust. They journeyed from Germany to

England then immigrated to San Francisco as well. How fortunate I am to have both of my grandparents on my father’s side who eventually had a happy ending and were reunited in America. That is how I came to write this story.

Henry Meyer

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The Old Man and the Boat Poetry | Jodie Thompson | 6 Photo | Sam Ahmed | 8

The old man fished in his boat And he sure knew that it would float, As he threw his bait out, which was hot pink, He knew that his boat would not sink, And there he was by the calm ocean blue, And he hoped he would catch a fish or two, As he felt the jerk of the very sharp hook, He thought in his mind that it was a snook, When he saw it jump and then the splash, He knew that fish was about to dash, He knew it was a keeper and it would be good to eat

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After all, his family could use some meat.

It finally came after a tug of the line, And he could finally see its beautiful shine He reeled and reeled until the fish was in, And then he saw the sheer size of its dorsal fin.

He looked up to see the setting of the sun, And knew that that would be the only one, He wrote the coordinates with a pen, So that he could come back again.

As he sailed back to the distant shore, He wished he had caught just one more, So he pulled out his rod and hoped for another snook And not ten seconds later, he felt the shake of the hook.

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Digital Artwork | Jackson Singhal | 8 Poetry | Alam Alidina | 7

YOUNG. NEW UNIQUE SECTION

We are the children; the upstarts; the rebels.

We are the land of opportunity.

We are where your dreams become reality.

Anything can happen here.

We see beyond the horizon, Beyond the purple seas, Beyond the snow-capped mountains, Into eternity.

And while we are the end, We are also the beginning.

The last discovered; the least tamed.

Birth. Life. Death. Renewal.

THE AMERICAS

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Photo | Shaan Mehta | 6 57

MY THEME FOR

HUMANITIES 8

The instructor said Go home and write A page tonight.

Based on Langston Hughes's "Theme for English B" And let that page come out Poetry | Daniel Ardila | 8 of you-- Then it will be true.

I wonder if it’s that simple?

I am fourteen, free and born in the U.S.A. I went to school there then home which lead me to this here institution I am the only piano playing, tennis star in my class The road from home is worn from constant travel Through a forest the over a creek, Past a mansion, lake, and then I come to the house the turn that I take to get home, then up to my room, sit down, and write this page: It’s not easy to know what is true for you or me at fourteen, my age. But I guess I’m what

I eat and play and sleep, parents, I understand you, understand me---we three---you, me, talk through this page (I hear family too.) Me---who?

Well, I like to play, sleep, relax, and be happy.

I like to learn, read, hang out, and understand more everyday.

I like an adventure for a Christmas present, or time---free time, fun time, or play time.

I guess being me doesn’t make me NOT like The same things that other folks who are different crave.

So will my page be unique or special that I write?

Being me it will not be bland or dull.

But it will be a part of you, everyone I love You are special to me--yet a part of me as I am a part of you all.

That’s unique.

Sometimes perhaps you annoy or bother me Nor am I always perfect.

But together we make it work, and that’s true!

As I learn from you all everyday, I guess you learn from me--Although you’re different---and have unique experiences--These make us even more similar.

58 This page is not just for me it is for humanity.

Dear Diary, Last night, a man rode in on horseback announcing that the British were coming.

Sadly, the rumors were true. Every light in every house lit up like candles on a sconce. It was obvious that nobody would be sleeping that night. Orders were being yelled at for every militiaman to set out for the green immediately. My husband and son grabbed their guns, and set out like all the other men. I feared that I’d never see them again.

I sat in the bedroom crying, as the sounds of gunshots rung through our once peaceful town, Lexington. Hours passed and many more tears were shed. I stepped out onto the front porch to find seven other women mourning over their husbands’ dead bodies. There was one body lying in the middle of the green that didn’t have a woman sobbing over its shoulder. Then, I recognized the face. It was my own son, Connor. There was no time to grab shoes. I ran out to the body and collapsed into the puddle of blood surrounding him, my dress and feet stained with blood. I dragged what was my son into the house and onto the settee.

Then, I heard a knock on the door. I didn’t feel like answering it until I heard the voice of the knocker. It was my beloved husband, Thomas. I opened the door in tears. He told me that they had defeated the British and that there were going to be plenty more battles. I was happy to hear that we won, but I don’t think I will be ready for my husband to leave again any time soon. I can’t lose my husband too.

I believe everyone in the town is permanently scarred knowing that Lexington will never be the same. If anybody else were to die, it should be for this cause. We don’t need these scoundrels. I’d rather die than be ruled by this heartless king.

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Your humble servant, Nancy Wright

19

Photo | Henry Schechter | 6 Fiction | Collin Katz | 7

1775

APRIL

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F I S A Y O 61

Fiction | Fisayo Omonije | 6 Digital Artwork | Jackson Singhal | 8

walked into math class on Halloween Day, and II looked for a place to sit. I figured I would sit

by Amos and the Maxes, but something drove me to try something new today. I figured I would mix it up a little since I have been friends with them since first grade. I looked around for a vacant seat and saw one next to Julian and his worshippers.

Don’t do it, don’t do it, I thought. But then, I found myself drifting towards them. I would have turned back, but I had “crossed the Rubicon” at this point, so there was no turning back.

“Hi, is this seat taken?” I asked.

“No… who even are you?” Julian said.

I then took off my robot mask and revealed my face. “It’s me, Fisayo.”

“Oh, sick costume dude!”

“Thanks, you too,” I said with my most convincing voice, trying to decipher the puzzle that was Julian’s costume. He clearly saw the confused look on my face.

“Oh, my costume. I’m a were-piglet! Isn’t it cool?”

“Yea…” I fibbed.

I then sat down, and almost exactly as I sat down, a kid with a Bleeding Scream costume sat down next to me. I then heard Julian whispering.

“Yea, his face… UGH! I have nightmares about him, you know? My life would be better if he just died!”

It was at that moment that I realized that they were talking about Auggie Pullman. Now, don’t get me wrong, he’s a very nice kid. But that dude’s got some seriously bad face action going on there. Rumor has it that if you touch him, you have the Plague. (I don’t participate in that, by the way.) I try to stay kind of neutral in all of these situations, you know? But if I had to pick a side, I would stay on Auggie’s side, just because he can’t help looking like he does.

“He’s just such a, like a, ugh! I can’t even describe it!” proclaimed Julian.

“You guys, I think we should just stop with all the...”

“Hey, stay outta this, Fisayo!” Julian barked.

I heard a raspy-like voice butt in, and I instantaneously knew it was Jack Will.

“He’s been following me around this entire school year! ...like I’m his friend or something! He is so annoying!” he said.

That baffled me. I thought that they were friends! Wow, Jack must be a really good actor!

“How about he does us all a favor and vanishes off the face of the earth!” Julian announced.

“Yea!” Jack bellowed.

Then, all of a sudden, I saw the Bleeding Scream kid get up and bolt out of class. He left his backpack. I saw what was on it: Star Wars.

My throat became dry, my stomach wrenched, and I felt like I was going 62 to hurl when I realized that August Pullman was the Bleeding Scream.

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Filler Poem Poetry |Jackson Singhal | 8

This is a Poem Of Fillers and things That fill up spaces Occupy Dreams Live in the background Serve as a Placeholder For Things To Come Lorem Ipsum Dolor Est. Photo | Kathan Ramnath | 8

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As the tree hunches sorrowfully under the light of a thousand stars, it believes its little existence is meaningless in its huge world.

Yet each time a child climbs its branches, or a finch lands on its autumn leaves, the tree finds itself distancing itself from Earth.

It feels no longer part of the rapidly-spinning and changing planet, but a shimmering diamond in the stone of the universe.

A living, learning creature, hoping to be seen just once by the eyes of giants.

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THE TREE Poetry | Mason Antes | 8 Photo | Kathan Ramnath | 8 Digital Artwork | Jackson Singhal | 8

The tree, now brimming with hope and determination, reaches toward the stars.

Abruptly it is pulled back down to Earth by its firmly planted roots, the roots of bigoted oppression seeping from all the jeers and hate the tree endures.

It is ripped away from its dream and placed back where society believes it should be, deeply rooted in the ground.

For society believes it is that: just a tree.

But what the hatred doesn’t notice is the tree’s desire for more, for knowledge, for compassion, 66 for admiration.

That is why it belongs in a place amongst the stars.

Photo| James Singhal | 6

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Do You Have Hope ?

Poetry | Zubin Mehta | 6

If you have happiness then you still have hope If you are proud of who you are then you still have hope If you hate war and violence then you still have hope If you enjoy helping others then you still have hope

If you love your family then you still have hope If you live for friendship then you still have hope If you never give up then you still have hope If you have fun every day then you still have hope

If you have a best friend then you still have hope If you are living life to its fullest then you still have hope If you are not self-centered then you still have hope If you care about the world then you still have hope If you find humor in everything then you still have hope If you find time to relax then you still have hope Hope is something that will give you strength in the worst of times, something that you must never let fade 68

Why is it that when I walk down the carpool line some people give me bad glares Maybe it’s my height, my build, or my hair I stand out sort of like a shark fin in the ocean As soon as people see me, I can start a commotion You see me at the store Saints snapback cocked backwards People see me, they say “Another wannabe rapper” But if you knew me you’d know, it’s not the rhymes that I’m after My people have been given a bad reputation Criminals, killers, thieves, people call for a reformation I can’t claim that all my kind are innocent But I want to be treated like a regular citizen I shouldn’t have to say my life matters I shouldn’t have to tell you that the hate is what batters While I was making this art to find inspiration I saw Charleston in a new light, one of separation I saw men years my senior insulting my heritage, my family which made a deep scar I hurt because those people are blind to what they are I believe people are taught, not born, to see race So if we want to heal the divide take away that space

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I know that there will always people that hate, but one day, we will have peace

Life Through the Eyes of an African American Teen

Poetry | Semaj Musco | 7 Photo | Brendan Goldaber | 8

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Special Thanks David Dini John Ashton Warren Foxworth Nick Sberna Suzanne Townsend Ann Dilday Paul Di Vincenzo Kendall Murphy Jason Lange Ryan Parker Danielle Clayton Lisa Brandenburg Dean Clayman Lynne Weber

Staff

Meagan Frazier (Adviser)

Submissions

Geoff Stanbury (Adviser)

Sam Ahmed ’20 (Director of Submissions) Josh Mysore ‘21 Gabe Bines ‘21 Sarbik Saha ‘21 Benny Wang ‘21 Rahul Vashi ‘20 Ishan Gupta ‘20 Toby Nwafor ‘20 James Shiao ‘20 Paul Sullivan ‘20 SeMaj Musco ‘21

Design

Charlie Rubarth ‘20 (Director of Design) Jackson Singhal ‘20 Collin Katz ‘21 Tamal Pilla ‘21 Rohit Vemuri ‘20 Alam Alidina ‘21 Meyer Zinn ‘20 James Singhal ‘22 Aayan Khasgiwala ‘21

The 2015-2016 Mini-Marque used the following fonts in its publication: Archeologicaps Blogger Sans Brioso Pro Caviar Dreams CF Civilisation Maya Champagne and Limosines Charlemagne Chin Chan Franklin Gothic Medium Korean Caligraphy Marathon Marathon II Mesmerize Montserrat Pompiere Rugamika Samurai Times New Vespasian Ubuntu The Mini-Marque is a multimedia magazine created by the St. Mark’s School of Texas Middle School (grades 5-8). The magazine is designed using Adobe InDesign, with most graphic art created using Adobe Illustrator (CS6 and Creative Cloud). Some pictures and graphic art were adjusted in Adobe Photoshop. Publication work was done on Mac Minis and personal laptops. We chose the theme of Ancient Civilizations in order to allow an equal opportunity for all grades to contribute work. As always, the Mini-Marque is free of charge to students, staff, and families.

Cover Photo | Rikhil Manduva | 7