TIGER PRINT 2025-26

St. Agnes Academy

Kathy Xi ‘26

tiger prints

2025-2026 | Art & Literary Magazine | Vol.1 N.S.

tiger prints St. Agnes Academy Art & Literary Magazine 2025-2026 | Volume 1, New Series

tiger prints 2025-2026 | Volume 1

Welcome to the first volume of the new series of Tiger Prints. It’s been a

few years since SAA had an art and literary magazine, and I’m excited that we’ve brought it back! Having a place to showcase student work isn’t just a way to celebrate the talent at SAA — it’s a way for us to understand each other better.

When I saw Kathy Xi’s (‘26) painting Through the Looking Glass, I knew it would be the perfect piece for our magazine’s cover because it captures so much of what I think the creative process feels like as a teenager. Sometimes I feel like the goldfish in the bowl, small and confined, peering out at a world that seems enormous and out of reach. Other times, I feel more like the schoolgirl on the slide: poised at the edge of adulthood, carefully balancing the most delicate thing I own — my identity — while also trying to see the world through it.

Student pieces, like the ones in this issue, capture what we are seeing in the “looking glass” of our high school years in a way nothing else can. Every piece in this magazine offers a different view of something we felt was meaningful enough for us to look at closely through that lens, whether it was as universal as the wide sky above us or as unique as a glimpse of our own reflection.

Thank you to everyone who submitted their work and helped bring our art and literary magazine back to life. And thank you to all our readers! I hope you find something in Tiger Prints that leaves its mark on you .

-Avani Yaltho ‘26

EDITOR-IN-CHIEF Avani Yaltho ‘26 DESIGN EDITOR Layla Yaltho ‘28 FACULTY SPONSOR Vanessa LaWare

writers & artists Aleeza Morris-Khan...................................................................13 Aleida Klimko................................................................................26 Alexis Doudna..............................................................................23 Ana Castro.......................................................................................8 Anaiya Nasir....................................................................................3 Ava Lynch.......................................................................................29 Avani Yaltho....................................................................20,24,32 Caitlin Que.....................................................................................35 Copeland Fulbright...................................................................17 Danica Du.........................................................................................5 Elisa Feng.........................................................................................10 Elizabeth Lee.....................................................................................1 Emma Ali.........................................................................................37 Eriana Salinas.........................................................................14,28 Grace Carrillos...........................................................................4,17 Jessica Wang.................................................................................4 Juliette Garber............................................................................33 Kaitlyn Kimble..............................................................................22 Kathy Xi...............................................................................cover,27 Layla Yaltho...............................................................................11,33

Leah Alexander.........................................................................22 Leah Pittman-Laplante..............................................7,25,31 Lily Gaidosik................................................................................40 Lily Gillespie.................................................................................37 Lily Webber...................................................................................34 Lucy Jones................................................................................12,24 Margaret Roddy.........................................................................6 Micaela Lim.................................................................................34 Mila Dimitrov..............................................................................35 Molly Coffman....................................................................30,36 Molly Lewis........................................................................18,21,38 Monika Condon..........................................................................6 Morgan Feng.........................................................................15,16 Nina Liang................................................................................9,20 Penelope Kennon......................................................................2 Sophie Da Silva..........................................................................41 Sophie Gerard............................................................................19 Sundari Vanodia..............................................................29,39 Tiffany Do.....................................................................................42

Because I Am a Girl Elizabeth Lee ‘27 I am a storm taught to whisper, a wildfire folded into lullabies; my laughter stitched with sunlight, my silence heavy as unshed rain.

Because I am a girl.

I have learned to bloom in tight spaces, like a rose pressing through concrete ribs, petals soft but stubborn; a quiet rebellion against the world’s weight.

Because I am a girl.

They told me I was glass— fragile, see-through, meant to be handled gently, but I became a mirror instead, reflecting back every doubt they threw at me.

Because I am a girl.

My heart is an ocean with shifting tides, pulling moons and memories alike, and though they call me “too much,” I know even the sea refuses to apologize.

Because I am a girl.

I carry galaxies in my chest, not to hide them, but to set them ablaze, to light paths no one thought I could walk, to become the gravity that holds my own world steady.

Because I am a girl.

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Penelope Kennon ‘28 2025-2026 | St. Agnes Academy

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Mr Whitman, Am I America?

Anaiya Nasir ‘26

Am I allowed to join your happy chorus, or must I mute my song?

Am I allowed to dance with your feet, or must I shackle mine?

Am I allowed to laugh with you until our ribs ache, or must I remain staid?

Am I allowed to be whole with you, or must I be severed?

Mr. Whitman, Am I America, for I sense her pain, yet she cannot mine?

Mr. Whitman, Am I America, for I can forgive, yet must never be forgiven?

Mr. Whitman, Am I America, for I am to prostrate at her feet, screaming in apology for the terror of those who unrightfully symbolize me, even though she is unable to hear me, see me, feel me, And know that it's not me, know that they are not me.

Mr. Whitman, Am I America? because America is me.

Based on the poems “I Hear America Singing” by Walt Whitman and “I, Too, Sing America” by Langston Hughes

Jessica Wang '27 Dear Nostalgia, The first time I heard your name, I pronounced it slowly as I let each syllable roll off my tongue the same way that dollar-store craft brushes had once swept across my forehead, painting my face when I was a child.

Nos-Tal-Gia. You were a stranger to me, a beautiful girl in a short royal blue skirt and wavy raven hair that rippled in the summer ocean breeze.

You were a dreaming girl who protected a childhood best friend in the heart-shaped locket around your neck.

Didn’t you promise to love her forever?

I didn’t know you, but when you spoke to me for the first time, your eyes sparkled like the sun’s reflection on a pond, and your rosy-red blush somehow made me flush even harder.

Yet when I traced your silhouette on the dusty photo frame buried in my drawer, my heart felt colder than the glass as I drew in a breath as sharp as the pain that your memory causes me.

Nostalgia, how I once longed to know you!

How I longed to be your friend, to paint your serene smile onto my own lips, dust myself in your glitter, and douse myself in your lavender perfume that had once made me sneeze.

I had longed to know you.

But now, I think I know you far too well.

2025-2026 | St. Agnes Academy

Grace Carrillos ‘27

Dear Nostalgia

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Danica Du '27

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Margaret Roddy. ‘28

Niña en una idioma differente Monika Condon '28

Cuando era chicita, yo hablaba Español perfecta.

Ahora, me cuesta mucho para decir un oración básica.

La niña chiquita no me preocupé por la gramatica.

Hoy, tengo pena hablar porque yo se que no habla perfecta.

Si, ahora esta mas dificil para hablar.

When i was a child, I spoke Spanish perfectly.

Now it takes a lot for me to say a basic sentence.

That little girl didn’t worry about grammar.

Today, I get nervous to talk because I know I don’t talk perfectly Yes, now it’s harder for me to talk.

2025-2026 | St. Agnes Academy

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Scraps Leah Pittman-Laplante '28 Given scraps, what can be done?

Some only get scraps, The stem of the vegetable, The bones of the meat.

Mothers with five mouths to feed, A father halfway out the door,

A hand too large, a head too small, Puzzle pieces that don’t quite fit, All cut from different fabrics of time, Pictures that used to be whole, Glued together to make something new, Yet old.

They never quite complete each other, They appear as an afterthought, A rushed collage of scraps glued together, The divide is clear in the sharp lines, It’s easy to sneer at the rags stitched together.

It’s hard to appreciate the beauty in creation, The talent for innovation is brushed over, Eyes skip over the chaos, Searching for something cohesive.

It isn’t comfortable, It is crowded, Too convoluted to glance over, You cannot see it without time.

It feels like the aftermath of a crash, Twisted metal and broken glass, Victims carted into ambulances, Mangled and cut up,

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They will be stitched together again.

You wonder what happened, You take a looking glass, Trying to go back in time, Searching for the second before collision, And you become a part of the chaos, You become the person lying on a stretcher, You are immersed in the collage, Trying to find your bearings.

So next time,

You skip over that piece, Because it is uncomfortable to see, But it lives in the back of your mind, And you know what living with scraps is like.

Ana Castro '27

2025-2026 | St. Agnes Academy

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Nina Liang ‘ 27

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Elisa Feng '26

Layla Yaltho ‘28

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To become a candle Lucy Jones '28 The first time you laughed because of me, it felt like an anachronism— I was fluorescent lights, you’re a pocket watch (I hum in the dim hallway, stu(r)dy what makes you tick) I saw all of your teeth at once Nobody thought I was funny before you The sound of your laugh is famil(y to my own)iar, now, Made soft by roughness, ordinary and verdant And you sit beside me and we share clemen(cy)tines, peeling open soft citrus scabs that sting acidic And we forget what we know and remember forgetting The air here is crowded with the pocket lint of subjects and verbs and You mo(u)th Something half-obscured by flickering light, Laugh fluttering and the sound of it drips waxen into my bloodstream I blink and miss you— I don’t want to burn you up so I am learning to move slow like the thaw of the winter I am learning how to become someone who can love you the way you ought to be loved I am learning to be warm

2025-2026 | St. Agnes Academy

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Stars,Parties, and Whiskey* Aleeza Morris-Khan ‘27 December 17th, 1925.

Prohibition, a law installed by United States Congress orbidding the manufacture, transportation, and/or sale of any alcoholic beverages, with an exception for medical and sacramental purposes, was in full effect.

He watched the fish twirl around one another in the deep lake below him, their tails whipping high and low with the lake’s tides. He leaned closer to the edge of the silver-tinted banisters, which wrapped around his house like a strict prison for his wellbeing. A long opera cigarette holder lay between the tips of his leathergloved fingers, blowing short steam with the sky’s clouds painted on midnight’s borderline. Midnight became a crow, flapping its onyx feathers across the Brooklyn Bridge. Even from afar, he could shut his eyes and fly away, disappearing into the city he called home.

The extravagant banquet table stood in the center of the ballroom; food glossed as if it was made to be admired, not eaten. Rosé champagne bubbled over.

Colorful paper strings stretched throughout the room. Candles, tall and short, lit into the greatest fire of the night. Lavish chandeliers, glittering like a thousand diamonds, brightened the room even more. The dark, clouded shadows that always seemed to follow him faded, and the orchestra launched—strains of mixed instruments: violins drawn by bows, pianos pressed lightly by fingers, flutes blown, trumpets buzzed, saxophones piped.

She arrived at the last call. Her soft face was painted with makeup that made her emerald eyes pop, lips plumped as with cherry syrup. She had let her dark hair fall to her ears, with a giant feather placed like a quill in an inkwell. She wore a black, slim, loose dress bedazzled with jewels and silver feathers that hung delicately at the bottom. Shiny strands of pearls dangled over her neck and ears, and long jade-black gloves adorned her up to her elbows. A picture-perfect lady.

“Don’t you look all dolled up?” he mumbled with a grin as she joined him on the balcony.

She brushed an air kiss up to his jaw, almost reflexively, like a bad habit she forgot to break. *Edited excerpt from longer work 13

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“I thought you hated high society,” he added.

“Everything but the whiskey,” she said, a glint of amusement in her eyes. “It’s about the only honest thing in the room.” Her hands settled on her hips as her heel tapped lightly against the floor. “Well then, do I have to go find it myself?”

A quick glance around the room, and then his hand disappeared into his jacket, returning with a slim flask. He poured slowly to stretch the moment; golden whiskey splashing into the silver cup.

“There. Something you can trust.”

The large doors to the balcony swung open with fanfare. Then a sharp beat. A high note. Someone sang, their voice rich and vibrant, echoing out of the room.

The chorus followed.

He offered his half-filled cup near hers. “Here’s to the risk.”

With a clink of crystal glasses, memories darkened to be forgotten.

Her red lipstick curved into a shiny smile as she raised her glass to his. In the distance, New York’s city lights peeked under the sky’s covers. “To the risk.”

The tiny flappers floated across the stage. The performance had begun.

Eriana Salinas '27 2025-2026 | St. Agnes Academy

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Morgan Feng '26

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Morgan Feng ‘26 2025-2026 | St. Agnes Academy

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Yo Soy Me

Copeland Fulbright '28 Yo soy mi nombre y la ropa que yo uso, Yo soy como me veo y que yo hago, Yo soy que me hace feliz, yo soy como caminar el camino yo tomo.

Yo soy como los amigos que tengo, Yo soy la persona que yo quiero a ser, Yo soy una estudiante, una niña y una amiga, Yo soy que yo encantar.

Yo soy que me gusta hacer, Yo soy honesto y amable, Yo soy diferente de todos los personas, Yo soy yo todos los días.

I am me I am my name and the clothes I use, I am how I look and what I do, I am what makes me happy, I am how I walk the path I take.

I am the friends I have, I am the person I want to be, I am a student, a girl, and a friend, I am what I love.

I am what I like doing, I am honest and kind, I am different from all people, I am myself every day.

Grace Carrillos ‘27

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Molly Lewis ‘26 2025-2026 | St. Agnes Academy

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Doll

Sophie Gerard ’28 I stare As silence surrounds us My fists grip onto my skirt It’s puffy and extravagant And makes me feel dolly Which is odd I stare As silence surrounds us He works on my hair Which isn’t much It’s short and choppy But he works all the same I stare As silence surrounds us And nerves swirl in me He looks at his work Before calling for the Doctor I stare As silence surrounds us And as the doctor takes him away He turns to me and says “What do we say?”

I stare As tears threaten to leave “Thank you.”

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Avani Yaltho ‘26

What It All Boils Down To Nina Liang '27

Dishes clinking, bubbles rising, The knife held, splicing, and dicing.

Chatter, bicker, voices spiraling, The pools of oil afloat in my bowl of (yáng ròu tāng).

Pour some bone broth stock, Slander your mother’s span-new frock.

MSG, table set for three, One at peace, two at rivalry.

At last, the fast is over.

Add some more cilantro moreover.

Let the savory umami glide across your tongue, The bear trap has been sprung.

Steam drives upward in a flying car, Cleaved fractions of daikon like splashed stars, Simmering segments of lamb, Conversation quiet, a clam.

Aspersions, quips, all prompt, Sentiment all stomped.

Two castles unwilling to bend, “Oh, I didn’t mean to offend.”

Dishes clinking, bubbles rising, The knife held, splicing, and dicing.

Chatter, bicker, voices spiraling, The pools of oil gripping onto my bowl of (yáng ròu tāng).

羊⾁汤

羊⾁汤

2025-2026 | St. Agnes Academy

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Molly Lewis ‘26

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A Storyteller's Songbird* Kaitlyn Kimble '27

The village had a young girl who was always and forever writing; if she could reach it, touch it with her fingers, or hold it in the palms of her hands, then it held a story. The young Storyteller wrote her stories on rocks and on leaves, on the bark of trees, on the walls of her house, and the ground. The elders in the village believed she should be more useful. Most didn’t understand her passion. Her parents hoped she would grow out of it.

For these reasons, she sat alone most days. disappearing into the forest without so much as a word. Most others never dared to venture deep into the forest, with its strange sights and sounds, surreal plants and animals, and mesmerizing sounds. The Storyteller came and went when she wanted though, listening to the forest, gathering up its stories as if they were the darkest sweetest berries.

There was a strange little boy who lived in the forest. No one knew who he truly was.

The boy, with the stars in his eyes and a love for the trees, was the only one who could get the Storyteller to speak, until stories spilled from her lips and echoed through the forest into the hearts of all who heard them.

The boy would accompany her tales with the most irresistibly delightful song anyone had ever heard, singing until the forest disappeared under the night sky.

She called him Songbird.

And so, the Storyteller and Songbird were a pair to behold. One so inseparable and aligned with the other that many were envious of their bond. As one was incomplete without the other, and no one dared to separate them, Mother Nature claimed them both as her children.

Leah Alexander ‘26

*Edited excerpt from longer work 2025-2026 | St. Agnes Academy

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Alexis Doudna ‘28

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Avani Yaltho ‘26

Artifice

Lucy Jones '28 why are you living through yourself vicariously? where you were once aware, awake, alert, alive, humming hopeful along to the creaking tune of your world turning to the song in the split of a chrysalis, green and new to the murmur of the blood in the working of your hands— you sit static, flickering— you stand by, consumed by fire that does not burn, a beast that does not hunger, desiccated and crumpled by artifice, buried to your eyes in the false music of machinery. and when they replace your bones with bronze, your skull with steel, your eyes with iron—will you then believe yourself stronger? when they come to place metal in your mind, to give you thoughts of titanium and a calling formed of copper—will it be enough? if they change out every piece of wood that keeps you afloat, remove and replace every element of the clockwork that makes you tick, who are you going to be? a copy of a copy of a copy is eating you alive and you don’t even notice. can you be content in this plastic peace?

2025-2026 | St. Agnes Academy

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old soul

Leah Pittman-Laplante '28

I’ve been called an old soul, As if it’s a medal I should wear around my neck, A blue ribbon to pin on my chest, Yet it feels more like weights, Pinning my feet down, Ensuring I don’t escape, I’m weighed down with sins I didn’t commit; Maybe it is the crimes from my previous lives, Atrocities I committed once upon a time, Perhaps I was hateful, And that is why I am pilloried, I wreaked destruction When my soul belonged to another skin, Now I am sentenced to walk on an earth, Stepping over cracks as the ground crumbles beneath me, I feel as if my weight will break it, I was traitorous, Now I am confined to a country that forsakes its people, Perhaps I was gluttonous before, And that is why I starve, I am ravenous for glory, Sick with hunger for fame, I want to be great, I feel the ache of all the poets before me who wrote to be acclaimed, Perhaps if the world knows my name, My enemies who boasted of my faults will be ashamed Perhaps I was nothing in a past life, I am just an actor playing the part, Maybe I do not pay for previous sins, And I simply host a rotten heart.

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Aleida Klimko ‘26 2025-2026 | St. Agnes Academy

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Kathy Xi ‘26 27

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Eriana Salinas ‘27 Eriana Salinas ‘27 2025-2026 | St. Agnes Academy

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PORTLAND, OR Ava Lynch '27

Al aire puro, cielos vacantes, montañas nevadas, Animals everywhere you walk, Family from afar who love to talk, Hacer kayak en aguas azules, nadar en el río de Clackamas, reírse con mis amigas.

Desayuno, almuerzo, y cena al aire libre todos los días, Pizza ovens and food galore, Food truck parks and restaurants to explore, Portland es divertido, Portland es un loco, Portland es el major para las comidas.

Padres, abuelos, la familia y amigos, All together in our favorite place, Children and animals running around playing chase, Portland es el sentimiento de amor sin peligros.

Sundari Vanodia '28

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Molly Coffman '27 2025-2026 | St. Agnes Academy

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Treading Water

Leah Pittman-Laplante '28 When the flood waters came, I took one last look at all my stuff floating around the room and went under. The cold water encased my head, I only heard the rush of it in my ears as my lungs began to burn. I didn’t try to save anything; it was all too far gone, yet I couldn’t help but stay, refusing to move on.

I stayed beneath the flood, determined to drown with everything I loved. I swore I wouldn’t come up for air until the sun dried every last puddle up. I sank below the black cold and took my final breath of water to take my soul. Better to drown now than try to live after everything I had ceased to exist.

The water called to me, and the icy cold numbed the stinging pain, and it filled my ears, blocking out every other sound; a final mercy.

They say that when you die, your brain stays alive for another seven minutes and replays your life. I wonder what my last glimpse of life would be like. What memories will haunt my final moments before I die? Perhaps my mother, who always wore a blue ribbon in her hair and used to sing me to sleep, I’m glad she won’t be alive to weep for me. Maybe I’ll see my father again, shrouded in shadow, just before he disappears, slipping through my fingers like nothing more than air.

The relief overpowers any desire to breathe; all I feel is the peace as I allow the flood to carry me around. No one ever talks about how nice it is to be fully embraced and carried the way only a wave can achieve. There’s nothing quite like the sensation of being free, nothing as good as that feeling.

When the bright light appeared, I was ready.

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Avani Yaltho ‘26 2025-2026 | St. Agnes Academy

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Layla Yaltho ‘28

Juliette Garber ‘27

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Micaela Lim '27 Lily Webber '26 2025-2026 | St. Agnes Academy

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Caitlin Que '26

Reverie

Mila Dimitrov '27 her mellifluous voice hidden beneath the vines of uncertainty ivy grew like tears drawn to her face words painted on her delicate skin lost in reverie, she says a knife from within

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Molly Coffman '27 2025-2026 | St. Agnes Academy

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Emma Ali '27 Lily Gillespie '27 37

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Molly Lewis '26 2025-2026 | St. Agnes Academy

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Sundari Vanodia ‘28

Little Specks Lily Gaidosik '28

If you left, it would be my fault.

It would be because I failed you.

Because I wasn’t good enough to save you.

Because you believed no one cared.

That no one thought you mattered.

But I care.

I care, Because if I didn’t care I wouldn’t want you by my side.

But I do.

I want to see you at my birthday.

I want to see you at the next dance.

I want to give you your birthday present.

I want to see you excited for the end of the school year.

I want to be there with you when we apply for college.

I want to see you when we are reminiscing about being young and new and full of life.

I want to see you at graduation, wearing a cap and gown.

I want to see you move that tassel to the other side.

I want to receive Christmas cards from your dorm.

And I want to see you at my wedding.

And I want to see you with my kids.

And I want you to hear this poem.

And I want to see you, standing beside me, for as long as I have eyes to see.

Because you matter to me.

You are one person.

A speck in a sea of humankind.

And yet, this person.

This other speck, sees you.

Because to this speck, your light shines brighter than any other speck.

And this speck couldn’t live if that light went out.

2025-2026 | St. Agnes Academy

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Seabird Sophie Da Silva ‘26

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Tiffany Do ‘27

2025-2026 | St. Agnes Academy

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St. Agnes Academy | 9000 Bellaire Blvd |Houston, TX 77036