The Shield 2017 Dorman High Schoolâ€™s Maganize for Literature and the Arts
â€œThe true miracle lies in our eagerness to allow, appreciate, and honor the uniqueness, and freedom of each sentient being to sing the song of their heart.â€? -Amit Ray
Hadley Ancell Class of 2017
Dorman High School’s Magazine for Literature and the Arts
The Shield The Cavalier Editors Sarah Biggerstaff • Hope Culbreth • Haley Mainville
Creative Writing Staff Hadyn Allen • Shelby Bourgeois • Sydney Duplay • David Hawkins • John Lee • Alexandria Roehrs • Antavian Williams THE SHIELD IS PRINTED BY FLORIDA SUN PRINTING.
Thomas Cunningham page 7 Megan Shackleford page 8 Hannah Couch page 10 Sandra Ramos & Rebecca Wolfe page 12 David Goncharuk & Bethany Hardin page 13 Sandra Ramos & Anna Seebeck page 16 Sandra Ramos page 17 Emily Felton & Rebecca Wolfe page 18 Anna Seebeck and Nick Smith page 19 McKayla Jackson page 20 Kennedy Henjes page 21 Anna Seebeck page 22 Corey Henderson page 23
Lex Cooper.....Ethnicity & Ethnicity Series 1. 2017 page 28 Taylor Logan.....I Canâ€™t Breathe page 29 Natasha Kovalevich.....Equality page 30 Rae Docherty.....Mi Madre page 31 Lex Cooper.....American Hijabi page 31 Kayleigh Witt.....Future Plans page 32 Alyssa Story.....Curious page 34 Mary Hope.....Rest page 35 Jessie Deguzman.....Tea Under the Sea page 35 Tamya Stewart.....Marley page 35 Ryan Turnipseed.....Antique Tea Party page 35 Maddie West.....Into the Garden page 37
Maddie West.....Fox & Scratchy Smelly page 38 Maddie West.....South Manhattan page 39 Alex Davis.....Self Portrait page 40 Mary Hope.....Fear page 41 Mackenzie Blaakman.....Solitude page 43 Zaray Lopez-Rodriguez.....Life After Death page 44 Amanda Camp.....Set it Free page 45 Emily Hutchinson.....Monkey page 46
Sreya Pudi.....2016: St. Moritz Switzerland page 9 David Hawkins.....Praise Before The Fall page 14 Alexandria Roehrs.....The Life of Rome page 10 Alexandria Roehrs.....Ode in Glorious Technicolor page 11 Sydney Duplay.....Happiness page 15 Tre Williams.....Me page 17 David Hawkins.....Stars page 20 David Hawkins.....Remember When page 21 Sydney Duplay.....Ballad for Pooh page 22 Shelby Bourgeois.....Home page 23 John Lee.....Love page 23 Louisa Hucks page 24 Ember Hang page 25 Ahlyn Foster page 26 Ali McCall page 27 Jalen Fowler.....Untitled page 29 Shelby Bourgeois & Alexandria Roehrs.....Desert Lilies page 36 Sreya Pudi.....Drowning Pool page 42 Each Dorman High School student is encouraged to submit original art and literature to The Shield. The pieces are judged and selected anonymously by the editorial staff. The staff reserves the right to edit for grammar, clarity, and sustainability.
: s r o t i d E e h t m o r F r e tt A Le Each page of this magazine conveys more than the talent of our peers. The Editors of The Shield sincerely believe Dorman High School’s photographers, artists, and writers unite our student body through their works. By capturing moments in a day at Dorman, these talented individuals aim to show what they see— whether they are photographing Friday night’s football game or depicting social injustice. This literary magazine showcases each of the photographers’, artists’, and writers’ talents as well as the world through their point of view. We feel that when we see these unique perspectives, we learn to appreciate the beauties of life as well as our peers and feel unified as a student body.
In this great play of life , each person can take center stage by embracing their talents
Thomas Cunningham Class of 2017
Thomas Cunningham Class of 2017
Megan Shackleford Class of 2017
2016: St. Moritz, Switzerland Frosty Boreas brushes through my hair As I bask in the golden sunlight And become one with this good earth. Church bells chime in the distance of the quiet town And I hear the calling of my name as the train starts to leave, But I donâ€™t care. I have found a place of my own in the upper limits of sky. As oxygen fades away, I vanish into thin air. Sreya Pudi class of 2018
Hannah Couch Class of 2018
The Life of Rome He took my hand and ran with it. We stopped before the fountain; he just stood there, staring up at the water glowing in the school’s shadow. I was baffled. This stupid boy, whom I hardly knew, had the audacity to lead me here of all places. “Radiant isn’t it?” he tore his eyes away from the fountain to look at me. “It’s beautiful.” The mist gently settled upon our faces as his grip tightened on my hand. I felt his lips pressed against my forehead as we stood there for what seemed like forever: as if I’d known him for a hundred years before, as if I’d have known him for a hundred years more. By morning, it was summer. He turned on some motown and we made sandwiches. The windows were opened; the breeze swept into his kitchen with the scent of honeysuckles from the yard. With his hands around my waist, he swayed us to I Want You Back. “Won’t you please let me, back-in-your-heart…” his deep voice sang high in my ear. I spun around and kissed
him. My fingers smeared sliced avocado down his chin, prompting him to break away as we broke into laughter. He brushed his nose against mine and whispered, “I love you.” I shook gently in the autumn dawn. He wrapped his jacket around me. The night was just starting to crack open when we climbed onto my roof. We flickered and burned in silence like the sunrise over my neighbor’s house. My heart sunk as he cradled my jaw and kissed me, as if the time had stopped, as if all of us was suspended within something greater for that limitless instant. He let me hold him open—his heart and soul in my hands—as his blood and his mind and his passion spilled out and soaked into our little forever. I looked into his face, the moon still faint in his smile, and I promised to always hold him—”until my fingers turn to dust, until the poetry and the symphonies and the constellations fall from the heavens, until our time starts again.” And just for a moment longer, I held him. Alexandria Roehrs class of 2018
Ode in Glorious Technicolor When I was twelve, I couldn’t factor polynomials—failed the whole chapter. Part of me is still deeply ashamed of this, despite the fact that I can now factor without difficulty. For too long, I woke in cold sweats, A devilish beast chasing me through my dreams to no end. It is a tragedy how we’re grown as if these distractions are most important. We’ve been locked up for all we’ve known, just waiting for the walls to move. We once danced upon these walls, sang of the sky and our hearts. Yet we hate ourselves and we cut ourselves and she killed herself, for what? I crave an escape from this prison just long enough to feel the sunrise upon my face. I covet a purpose greater than science and poetry and any god can dream up. Instead, I’m left with this hesitant speech in his absence, A yearning for the breeze of the valley, A tangible happiness not yet touched by the likes of greed. To those that walk under a brighter sun than I, How truly paramount are chemical decay and y-intercepts and that book we all read when we were fourteen by that drunk who died alone? Where have the stars and the angels and our minds gone? Look toward the horizon, my friend. The years have gone. Join me in the chorus as the trumpets lead the way, As the towers of clouds collide against the walls, As the tsunami tides wash over us, As we see from the blind; We are divine.
Alexandria Roehrs Class of 2018
Beauty is found in the spotlights.
Rebecca Wolfe Class of 2019
s of 20
David Goncharuh Class of 2019
as well as in the shadows...
Bethany Hardin Class of 2018
Praise Before The Fall
David Hawkins Class of 2019 I stop mid-sentence with a deep breath. The cliff face is overwhelmingThis isn’t where I want to be. I’m not quite there yetI guess I got some traveling left to do. Try walking a million miles in my shoes. You don’t know how long it took for me to get here. Its amazing I made it this far. I have an aptitude to push people. They are just trying to help But their attempts run astray. Maybe its me. I’m locked and loaded Ready to jump, Ready to leap for everything I’ve ever wanted. I think Getting this far Causes a person to rethink things. I’m not sure where this goes. For better or worse My doubt won’t leave me alone But my hope won’t leave me at all. Praise for the people able to smile Even when tears rain down from the sky. Praise for the people who hold the largest hearts While daggers are thrown at them from every direction. Praise for the poets on the edge of humanity and obscurity. I’m beginning to worry That this could be the end of my journey. This could be my curtain call, The conclusion to a story with no climax, A moment where roads meet Yet roads divide. The rain shines In two emerald eyes. The cliff awaits Someone who is brave enough to fall.
Bre Jackson. If We Could Fly Free. Class of 2017
Sydney Duplay Class of 2018 I have been surviving on this earth and I have learned quite a lot. Through the wisdom of my mother’s voice and some just the simplicity of my own. I cannot coax myself to remember these things from time to time but I hope that my brain still remembers this time: a time when I thought of these happy things: Be kind and seek smiles Be daring and stay for a while Run to run not to leave Only take what is yours to keep Stand up straighter and be braver Make your options even greater Don’t confine to appease Don’t don’t ever stay and plead Love yourself bc it’s much needed Just not too much, don’t be conceded Jump off a ledge, skip a few stairs When you fall, you’ll know who cares Climb your way up, down, and around Silence can be the best sound But don’t be afraid to make a little noise Shake the earth, conceptualize Tears stain temporary just like pain keep in mind that that you aren’t insane Explore your mind and what you believe Smell a few roses, climb a few trees Life can be rough, thoughts make you drown Eyes are blind in a world so small And sometimes love will not defy all But it’s okay in the end because we are all just people In the Jovan-Plutonian Gravitational Effect.
It is in the eyes of all who see it.
Sandra Ramos Class of 2017
k Class of 20
Me My life hasn’t exactly been what it’s supposed to be. Most of my dreams lost in memory. A lack of motivation, can’t find anything that drives me. I try to stay optimistic, but I pour and pour But can’t see the glass half full; it’s always half empty. Who knows, maybe I drink it. I do often blame others for things I’m to balm for. I guess I’m playing a game that’s 4 on 4 but seems like 5 on 4 with the odds always against me, but I keep playing. Why? I don’t know. Maybe because of the assumptions. I try to prove them wrong, but only seem to prove them right. If only they took the time to find me for the truth. Then they would find that they’re not right, not right for reading me like a contract without reading the fine print. If you took time to read the fine print the you’d see that I’m just a lonely kid trying to chase a dream of non-make-believe friends who don’t come and go like movie scenes. But, hey, what do I know? All I know is I am who I am until the day I am not able to be the man I am gonna be, But that’s just ME. Tre Williams class of 2017
Sandra Ramos Class of 2017
Emily Felton Class of 2018
It is in the sounds that surround us.
Rebecca Wolfe Class of 2019
It flows like water through our souls.
Anna Seebeck Class of 2018
Nick Smith Class of 2018
It’s so unfair to compare Anyone else to you To compare any star to the sun I know there’s a thousand stars but to me you’re the only one The other stars may shine just as bright but you’re the only one with me at night You are the only star I ever really see And even when I fail You are the closest star to me.
The moon scares to death I swear my lunar cycle is coming to an end Maybe that’s why I already wrote my deathbed.
I just want to ask why As I gaze into the night sky And your laugh comes to mind A smile marches across my face You’re the only light I was able to find I waited on that street corner waiting for rain But all that journey gave me were scars Those mistakes replay within my crooked brain Because I insist on keeping them like fireflies in jars But your smile makes me forget that pain Because it’s just us and the stars.
David Hawkins Class of 2019
McKayla Jackson Class of 2019
Remember When ______________________________________________
David Hawkins Class of 2019
Do you remember when we’d drive down the same old roads in the same old clothes that we wore yesterday thinking that this moment will never end but it did. We didn’t really understand the complexities of life remember that we were just kids just kids in love in a big world where it felt like anything was possible. That road ended and we found ourselves in different homes in the arms of others yet somehow there was always this connection.
I remember when we used to drive and then you used to cry you used to cry into my shoulder and swear that no one would ever love you but I did. What ever happened to back then? I remember your eyes used to twinkle when I called you beautiful even though you weren’t sure you’d ever believe it but I hope I helped you like a bookmark.
“Since the beginning, people have connected through art. Whether it is carvings on a cave wall or songs sung around a campfire, art is unity.” DAVID HAWKINS
Kennedy Henjes Class of 2019
I hope I showed you everything you were worth I showed you your place and I hope that this chapter in your life is a cherished one. I hope when I see you And ask if we can at least be friends you feel awkward but I see your eyes twinkle once again because I know that you remember when.
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Ballad for Pooh I feel like the human embodiment of Winnie the Pooh most days; sometimes happiness takes a hold of me and makes me feel like I can live for a hundred years minus one day. He told me once that life is a journey to be experienced, not a problem to be solved. Who knew that he was helping me with my depression and bipolar disorder from childhood. He is the only boy I have ever loved; he told me that I can’t spell love, but to feel it, to be myself, and that thoughts for others make all the difference. And sometimes he said, “I don’t feel like Pooh today,” and that is me every other day in a mind that cannot make a final feeling it’s final thought. Yet he told me, “You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think,” and yet again I am left to believe that I am beautiful and my life is meaningful. He said, “We can’t all and some of us don’t,” and I too believe that’s all there is to it, so I promised him that I would, even when the darkness scared me to my core. Because how lucky am I to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.
Sydney Duplay Class of 2018
The scent of Spearmint still lingers in the air. With all the kisses that were wiped away, The sweet but firm embraces, Cat hair floats in the breeze, Coffee cups are askew and half empty, The door still screeches and the stairs are still chipped. Your swing still creaks in the breeze; Hummingbirds still come to your feeders. The wind chimes still chime for you. The dirt is still the dirt that our bare feet walk on. The flowers still bloom. The leaves still fall. The sun still shines. The wind still blows. Your fire still burns. My dear, home is not home without you. Shelby Bourgeois class of 2018
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Bright and warm they galloped to the sun. The quintessence of their love bolstered whenever they ran. For they ran to save their love, and themselves. For they would never be accepted â€” Opposing sides making love, forbidden and hated, but to some beautiful and perfected. So they ran, they left behind their homes, their lives, their family â€” For their family was the cause of their calamity. And all they wanted was to live free of the thieves. John Lee class of 2019
Louisa Hucks Class of 2017
Ember Hang Class of 2017
Ashlyn Foster Class Of 2017
Ali McCall Class Of 2017
Our idenities show each person’s individual beauty
\Lex Cooper Class of ‘2017 Ethnicity Series 4. 2017
Lex Cooper Class of 2017 Ethnicity Series 1. 2017
ed l t i t n U Jalen Fowler Class of 2017
Institutionalized manipulation and lies Knowing the system will one day sever my family ties They scream out Reagan/Bush 84’ Then they criticize my culture for trap houses and cocaine on the floor The drugs THEY began to facilitate Would just give the country more reasons to discriminate Stereotypes to half of the people kin to me To the point that hoodies in the dark turn me into the enemy That’s just… Where I’m from… Most brothers are lost and have nothing to follow, But each other The blind leading the blind Heading for coffin or jail I search for heaven As I see them getting lost in their hell
Taylor Logan Class of 2018 I Can’t Breathe
Natasha Kovalevich. Equality. Class of 2019
Through the beauty of art, we see painful injustices
Rae Docherty. Mi Madre. Class of 2017
Lex Cooper. American Hijabi. Class of 2017
32 Kayleigh Witt Class of 2017 Future Plans
Hou s t o n
There’s a problem. I know that we are still ourselves—but together. Your words and your fingers and your truth are tangling t hemselves around me. Still as me, but suddenly with you. He told me he’d be the only one. I can’t shut up but you can’t stop listening. Captain, tell me your problems and your dreams and all your stupid thoughts that you could never say out loud. I wanna feel your breath like the steam off a hot bath, Your cologne like the smell of new rain on concrete, The hairs on the back of your neck like flour through my fingers, Your laugh like brass and neon and cheer together. This is together. No street in Paris or desert in Africa or angel in Heaven could live up to the way you look at me. I don’t go to church anymore because I have all the faith I need when you put your hand on my knee. When you tell me I’m beautiful when I floss. When you blow bubbles in my strawberry milk at three in the morning. The only thing I believe in is the fact that I was put on this earth to love you. If I never bear witness to the capacity of light as I have with you again, I will die content knowing the face of greatness. You have picked me from the garden, thrown me into the sea, All of a sudden I can finally see. All of a sudden I’m not embarrassed of what my house looks like because you’re home. All of a sudden I’m not afraid to fall because I’m so anxious to fly.
Alexandria Roehrs Class of ‘2018
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Tamya Stewart. Marley. Class of 2017 Ryan Turnipseed. An Antique Tea Party. Class of 2019 Jessie Deguzman. Tea Under Sea. Class of 2017
Mary Hope. Rest. Class of 2018
DESERT LILIES Abloom, she edged upon womanhood, Blossoming into her own, Clipped from the wonder of her youth, Dazed with loss and confusion, Embraced by the tragic loneliness of responsibility, Flooded with crimson sorrow. Gone are the days of childish playthings, Homeless within the home she made, Ignored, denied an opinion, a vote, Jerked away from an education, a future, Kissed by the sweet lips of depression, Locked away in the kitchen, in the bedroom. Mothers and sisters and daughters, Never seen, never heard, Oppressed by their fathers, their husbands, their presidents, Pruned from hours over the soapy dishes, Quivering in the footsteps of men, paid less for harder work,, Regardless of the protests, the murders, the neglect, Sacrificing her own dreams, her own will, Thirteen year old girls, catcalled on the street, Unable to speak up, unable to be heard, Virgins in the light of darkness, Wilted youth, desert lilies, Xerophytic in dry isolation, Youth trapped in discrimination, tweets and speeches and whispers in the hall, Zeroed out by the very people they made within themselves. Shelby Bourgeois and Alexandria Roehrs Class of 2018
Into the Garden. Maddie West Class of 2019
Fox. Maddie West Class of 2019
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Self Portrait. Alex Davis Class of 2018
Fear. Mary Hope Class of 2018
Everything turns point blank. For that one moment between life and death. Timing is nothing. I am nothing… but then, I can see a million stars in your eyes. Thank you for saving my life. The wind howls And my halcyon days are gone. A tempest rages on, Crafting a shipwreck in the depths of my unconscious mind. A prophecy clouds my eyes. Mark my words, You will soon ascend the throne of ice And my sword will be yours. I am always on the winning side. Thank you for giving me my time Because I almost drowned. The water was clear and blue, and my heart bled from a bullet wound. The water turned a red rust; But, you pulled me out So in you I trust. I can’t tell you about my ardent admiration Because you fear emotional attachment. You have a warped heart Cold like your throne. Because you have already broken, Can’t you see that you have become your worst dream? Hopeless. And I will be surprised if you make it until you’re 20, Broken little puppet, Strings strong and pulling you In a massacre dance Battle for power. You love yourself… only yourself, Fearful that someone else will break you completely. Can I tell you to put your heart in my hands? Can I call you a coward? Marionette of glass, Masterpiece of your own, Dance for something that won’t last at all Until it melts you away, Until you are in the drowning pool.
Because you are ignorant And if you can only learn from experience One day, your heart will bleed from a bullet wound. The water blue turns a red rust. You think you’re dead. You think you’re done. This time, I will pull you out And you will see That everything turns point black For that one moment between life and death And that the quest for power is incomplete. So trust in me.
Sreya Pudi Class of 2018
Solitude. Mackenzie Blaakman. 2018
Zaray Lopez-Rodriguez Class of 2018
Amanda Camp Class of 2018
Emily Hutchinson Class of 2018
Acknowledgments The Shield Editorial staff gratefully acknowledges the following people: All students who submitted work, Amy Workman and the Art Department, The English Department, Austin Baker, and Ken Kiser.