INTRODUCTION
From the OriginalAdvisor 1992-2004
In 1002 the Wl'iitfield community had far liad fewer of ever5rthinH, inctuding students, and thathas always been integral to Whitfield is ethos. Itwas in that atmosphere tl-iat a motley creating an art and literature magazine to
Our first issue was put togetlier and publishing - and very nearly a deal of faitl'i, courage, and persistence hrimble by our current standards, became an institution atWlutfield.
The magazine was academies, there was a then went silently rmcelebrated: and excellence. More than a fostering courage, a a
C,redit for the tlie time to learn new integral to being a no better than its who had the a awards at the print taken up that a valued
activities and sports tl'ian we enjoy now. In fact, we classrooms. A wonderful thing thatwe had tl'ien a forward-looking, student-centered a dozen students approached me about shidents and teachers.
budget, knowledge of layout, desi,gn, operation took manyhours, a Hood resultwas remarkably meager and proud becarise the Secret Voice to athletics, tlieater, and of the cornmu-iity that a of beauty, b ecame a vehicle for over the years, put in and literature are as ma,gazine would be faculty members priblication traditional have iS
Larry Hays, Faculty
PERSPECTIVES
VOL.XXX11N0.2 2024-2025
Editor-in-Chief Dylan Weiss '28
Submissions Editor Nina Hill '27
Assitant Editor Diana Hunigan '25
FacultyAdvisor Curtis Erlinger
General Staff
Isabel Aymerich '25
Akio Cagle '26
TomAs Casado '27
Harper Charnond '29
Meena Dang '3o
Nora Daniels '3i
Lizzy Forbes '3o
Alexander French '29
Doni Grooms '28
Maggie Harkins '26
Lee Kirkpatrick '29
Sarah Kunz '28
Lilia Long '27
Ellie Mayer '27
Erin Messias '27
Isra Muzaffar '27
Toplier Payne '28
Tessa Politte '27
Lizzie Pruett '26
Molly Rufkahr '28
Emina Sinanovic '28
Emme Starkey '28
Cole Stevenson '27
OliviaWang '29
KaylaWard '25
Grace Yates '28
Layout CoverArt Dylan Weiss '28
Maura Harkins '28
TABLE OP CONTENTS
Bradley, Caspian '27
Bosanquent, Grant '30
Cagle, Aiko '26
Cochran, Kaitlin '26
Dang, Meena '30
Davidson, Rosie '26
Eggebrecht, Ashley - Faculty
Ehimare, Isi '28
Erlinger, Curtis - Faculty
Evitts, Elle '27
Harkins, Maggie '26
Harkins, Maura '28
Hays, Larry - Faculty
Hill, Nina '27
Inazu, Hana '27
Kourbatova, Sophia '28
Mayer, Ellie '27
Mella, Zoe '25
Pruett, Lizzie '26
Shocklee, Lydia '29
Shoghi, Edan '30
Siddiqi, Maaz '30
Tillman, Tarnir '26
Tolch, Amelia '30
Toolan, Maeve '26
Wang, Olivia '29
Weiss, Dylan '28
Worsena, Derek '29
Zanzie, Lilly '28
Artists of the Month
Kunz, Sarah '28
Messias, Erin '27
Muzaffar, Isra '27
Norfolk, Mikki '28
Politte, Tessa '27
Tredway, KAt '28
The Bird in the... The Blood... Untitled
The Intergalactic Chomper
Polo, See
Dreams Vs. Nighhnares
Temple of Sinwava
The Technogarchs
Sketch
Kitchen Meditation
Fall Haiku
What if, Jar, Shoe
New York Asters, Purple Ink
Introduction Flowers
Untitled I'm Scared of ending up Alone
Doberman Acryllic
Joop
Untitled, Untitled
Sea Spray, Waterfall
The Last Shot
Untitled
Untitled
Togther in Basketball
Untitled
Fairytale, What is Beauty?
Sonder, Nature's Death
The World We Live In
That Auhimn Breeze
Pushing Up Dasies, Tears Over Fears
Cicadas Under Concrete, Untitled
Memory, Spray... The Ghost
The Girl
Space
Light Shower
Cicadas Under Concrete
Erin Messias, Class of 2027 necemberxrtjstof thewonth
Can't you imagine the life of a cicada
Waking vampirically from a hundred year slumber
Climbing with purpose through dirt and grime
Only to hit something unknown
A conglomerate slab walked day by day
Placed to protect, yet uncaring ofyour corpse
You sing melodic cries for your siblings, your lovers, your colleagues
Maybe they call for you too
They scream and yearn for others in the same sea of rot
To feel some instinct of togetherness
But are left in the dark, alone
The same as you
A sense of abandonment seeps into the ground
Yet just a few feet away, others make it through
They see the warm sun, and cling trees like a newborn
Unbeknownst to their family buried alive in graves of soot
They stretch their crystal wings while yours stay veiled in soil
Deaf to the cries from mute mouths
Your suffering is suffocated
Your fate has been sealed in granite and cement
There is nothing more to be done
Maybe we are all just cicadas under concrete
Flowers
Nina Hill C,lassof 2027
Pushing Up Dasies
Sarah Kunz
of 2028
Sonder
DylanWeiss, Class of 2028
Tuesday March 4, 2025
There is an abyss of blue, That holds my deepest fears, A place, whose words are spoken by the mOOn.
Built with time, from sky's soft tears. The earth's largest mystery, In front of our misty eyes, Spun with anger, downpour fills the road to flee.
Waves the only sound, halting cries The world silent, except the words of riptide.
A destination with meaning to go, Where deepest secrets confide, And hide in the mysterious flow.
The place you can vanquish, with no attention, you're hit with waves of anguish.
Nature's Death
DylanWeiss, Class of 2028
'ThesdayFebruary -n, zoz5
Sunlight casts rays upon the dewey ground the true ones price WaS paid ' before they could make asound. A pasture of flowers dew supplying growth they sit for hours before weeds take lives of both. Growing up with flowers they know the other's roots but weeds are sour and kill the good with brute. Now the flowers lay in nature's tomb inscribed with names of who they fell to.
The Bird in the Moonlight
Caspian Bradley, C,lassof 2027
Why is this town so quiet?
Every step I take thumps, as though the ground is hollow, rotting from the inside. This town was rotting from the inside. know this spot. I was here twelve years ago on Halloween. I remember it clearly.
The day this town was cursed by the bird in the moonlight.
I remember walking along the dark, cobbly streets in my costume, handmade by my mother and finished mere hours before I had set off on my journey. I loved birds, so so much... if I could've died and become one, would've risked the world. It was a chilly night, recovering from days of non-stop rain. I had a pillowcase, with a few handfuls of candy in the bottom, soon to be filled with sweets. Nothing is actually scary about Halloween. Or... that's what they thought.
That's what they all thought.
It started with a scream.
Down the block, the streetlights started flicking off, the light from the moon our only compass. A girl behind me, whom I thought I knew, had screamed. A bloodcurdnng, pain-stricken, terrified shriek that silenced the other children and parents as we all turned to look at her.
'It worft come off!" she yelled, whining and sobbing as she clawed at her bunny mask. Blood spffled from scratches she dug into her cheeks as she tore at the mask, desperate for freedom from its grasp. Soon, there were more children. One after another, children started screaming as their costumes fused with their flesh, masks and ears and garments, all of them tearing and clawing in desperation, pleading with whatever evil was forcing this curse upon them...
The girl with the bunny mask was writhing on the floor, sobbing as her skull shifted, molding to her mask, her eyes and mouth melting into place... I turned in circles, watching as everyone around me twisted, squirmed, and shrieked, their once-cheery costumes becoming horrifically formed into their skin, deformed and mutilated until they were barely recognizable anymore, no longer smiley and cute.
I looked down at my own garments, melting and ripping as the beak began to fuse to my skin, the paper feathers on my arms pricking into my flesh, blood welling up like morbid tears. My sloppily-made shoes were warping the structure of my own feet, and I grew three toes, clawed at each end. I did not cry, I did not fear. I wanted this... so I simply smiled.
I look around the street once more. I see the first girl in one of the windows, watching me. Her eyes are filled with pain. hear footsteps behind me. The other children have come to say hello... The deer, the snake, the moth...
"Hello, friends. Trick or treat..." I murmur, smffing.
"Trick." said the moth, her voice muddied and sputtering with the blood stuck in her throat.
"Trick. It's always been a trick." hissed the deer, his hooves clicking on the cobbles.
'Trick or treat'. A simple phrase, no? There's nothing nefarious about it. And yet, as it had back on that fateful night, 'trick' has a deadly ring to it when it's spoken here. The bunny vanishes from the window, the window of the room of the home of the curse. The home without life, the home with no light. The others
start to riot, excitement and anticipation bubbling inside their mangled figures, shrieks of delight rising in volume and quantity, and I soon learned why.
My bones twisted, shattering, crushing from some unseen force. It hurt like hell, but I didn't scream. After all, it's my fault this all happened, isn't it? As I drifted off to my calm, quiet release from this place, I only had one question remaining.
Why is this town so quiet?
I'm Scared of Ending Up Alone
Sophia Kourbatova
Class of 2028
The Memory
Isra Muzaffar
Class of 2027
The Spray of Light
Isra Muzaffar
C,lassof 2027
Untitled Lizzie Pruett
Class of 2026
OliviaWang C,lassof
2029
Fairytale
Raised by fairies
Taught inside books
I cast myself a princess
In wait for happily ever after
You look like the prince I've been waiting for
Handsome, kind, upright, Amazingly brave on your horse
Just as I picture in my storybook
I thought I would finally kiss someone who isrt't a frog
But you ended up being the apple
Poisoning me just after the prologue
I began pondering all over again Wondering when it's my time
Fairytales show you what's on the pages,
Never beyond
What is Beauty?
The question that lingers, unanswered.
Is it the golden beam of the sun, The delicate touch of petals in spring, .
The fierceful bow of the waves, Or the silver glow of the tranquil moon?
Does beauty appear only for the eye to see?
Or does it thrive beneath the surface?
People do not see the beauty of ones
Personality
A woman can be pretty but rotten
A woman can be different but kind
The pretty woman is what draws the eyes, Not the heart.
A face may glow like gold, yet transform black.
A heart may be hushed, yet crowded with light.
The world ogles at the charming, But scarcely hears the kind.
Lovely fades; tenderness remains. Not everything that catches the eye
Touches the heart.
Whot if
Maggie Harkins, C,lass of 2026
Tell me, O'flower, O'Flower of Truth
What if, What if, WHAT IF!
What if he finds me?
What if he hurts me agait?
What if he mocks my pain again?
But tell me then, O'Flower, O'Flower of truth,
What if, What if, WHAT IF!
What if he is kind for once
What if he makes me smile for once
What if he takes away my pain for once?
But in what...
In What Such a dream, will he no longer be my pain?
O'Flower, O'Flower of lies, Why have you forsaken me With petals of lies
That scorch my soul
My Petals My Petals
Thine Petals
Thou sent me petals of lies Lies that never would be mine In reality, but only mine in my dreams
The Petals you sent Were meant to soothe the nightmares My nightmares of Him..
Yet all you've done Is damage me more With the lies of your petals, The bane of my existence, False Change.
Class of 2027 ffovemberArtjst of theMonth
The Ghost Isra Muzaffar
Monster Jar
Class of 2026
14's impw+azr+ h slq
WAtn yabt sltq>,
loar brq huras uvt of I+sd[ grauvts ate A- bmtas.
Flwtts
,And rwnbows
y4 wwld wAtrt
7Xtrt is /l(;I law
No kift
/s i+ ni btaa+ifal?
sUq wi+A +At s4ws
FisA in +At river
Swim in +At sKy
Monster Shoe
7'Xz3rass issoR-
Birds 5/W in +At4rtts
/ Kill +At bi(d51
(;bt+ +Ae 4-rags dr:rwn, rAisis a,+4rary 1//5/0/7
UnrtaJ, yd i+ lads ouive
/ will ntver seti+4wrr, / um do wAMaier Atrt
7'Xis is all o.. dra)-sn
Maggie Harkins
Maggie Harkins
C,lass of 2028
Dreams Vs. Nighmares
Meena Dang
Class of 2030
The Girl
Mikki Norfolk, Class of 2028
7anuaryArtjst of theMonth
the Mother hummed a devastatingly beautiful tune she was a noisy person yet always hated hurnrning and whistling and any sound of any kind but it cradled her now.
the Father remained silent hewas always silent, and likedhearingthenothingness. he lived in a world that wanted in the grave for his words.
silence gave him great comfort now.
the Men watched this, they enjoyed how their actions drilled a permanent hole of fear into the People's hearts the Men smiled as Their People begged. but they weren't criminals, nor murders, nor perpetrators. they were here to help. yet as the Dollars rose from the Deaths, the reminder of guilt began to dim, and the money consumed them.
the Mother hiunrned louder to cover her fear the Father became quieter to live longer and the Girl..listened.
she listened as the Men made survival illegal and silence the goal.
she listened as people surrendered to the fear of shackles, unknowing that the shackles were created of fear.
she even listened as the Man spoke to His People about how much he hated her and all the girls like her.
she listened so much that she felt she could no longer hear.
so she prayed. she didn't pray to the Christian God, or the Muslim God, or anyone's God at all. she prayed to herself, hoping to be heard. hoping to be listened to. she prayed,
"if these words are the last breaths i breathe, let these words be true. let the People be free, free like the leaf when it falls from the autumn tree. let the People be free like the speech we once spoke into air we didn't need to pay to breathe. let the People be free like my soul may be when it's held by the moon once more. and if i Die on the way to freedom, or simply in a school long before, leave my body on the steps of Congress. and may our Blood pool at their feet no more."
and when she opened her eyes once more, they glistened, but the world didn't change. except for the one thing that did, she no longer listened.
Polo
Kaitlin Cochran Class of 2026
Lizzie'iPruett
'Ai
New York Asters
Maura Harkins
Class of 2028
7anuary ContestWjnner
The Technogarchs
Ashley Eggebrecht Faculty
0 Muse
Let me conjure them Olympians from their silicone mountain
High above the plight of mortal men
Their thunderbolt algorithms Keep us worshiping
With blood-sacrifices prostrate at their alters
In their dining halls, They feast on the fruit of omniscience Goblets full of ambrosia Delicious indifference
While below a dumb wreckage
Did you know Prometheus, The first spark would lead to this?
Did your oracles whisper their truths Into the ears of Zeus?
That men would break free from gravity
At the cost of starving thousands
That we would lose our children to Their succulent lotus flowers
That division would be sowed
Slaves to our devices
We love it more than freedom
Hits to our dopamine receptors
While seas of boneless, chubby fingers
Stained blue with cobalt
Harvest our deepest desires
And sell them in exchange for our souls
While Prometheus is ripped open by endless eagle's talons
Chained to his alter of progress
Class of 2028
December Contest Wjnner
Kitchen Meditation
C,urtis Erlinger Faculty
Sketch
Isi Ehimare
See, Kaitlin Cochran, Class of 2026
The Last Shot
Edan Shoghi, Classof 2030
I wake up in the morning and go to the court I put up shots and none of them go in, for my mind has broken I want to be great but there are trials
After putting up 100 shots, I call it quits while everything around me slows while I think.
I don't think I can do this anymore
I look at the hoop and down on my shoes
I quit I can't do this anymore
I ask myself how I could give all my strength and fail I push and push myself until I can not walk
As I fall to the ground I ask why I still do this I answer myself to say I can do this out of all of them
Untitled Grant Bosanquet, Classof 2030
Maybe o maybe you're sucked into screens
Why are you on screens when you could be admiring leaves
Look o look at the beautiful trees
Can't you see the beautiful bees
Maybe you can find the queen
TheBloodofMortalsandGods
CaspianBradley
Classof2027
November Contest Winner
Untitled ErinMessias, Classof2027
At night I put on war paint
I spread it lovingly across my face
Covering every bump and scar
Healing my worn hide
For me to thrive is to reveal your lies
So I rub this act of rebellion into my skin
I trim my claws and shine my fangs
Highlighting the monster
You want me to be
FallHaiku
ElleEvitts, Classof2027
October Contest Winner
Fall
Fall makes me feel cold
I need to wear a jacket
I miss the summer
SeaSpray
LydiaShocklee
Togther in Baskethall
Amelia Tolch, Class of 2030
On the court where dreams take flight, bouncing balls from left to right. With each dribble, hear the sound, As players gather all around. Shoot the three, and watch it soar, Swish through nets, the crowd will roar!
Pass the rock, make that play. Fast breaks lead to an alley-oop display. Defense tight, don't let them score, slide your feet, and hustle more.
The clock is ticking, tension high. With every shot, we reach for the sky.
In the paint, we collide, Chasing wins with every stride.
When the final buzzer rings the call, Basketball unites us all!
Untitled Maaz Siddiqi, Classof 2030
I hear the sound of the ball
Then bomb
The ball goes high in the air
Then goes to the bears Out in the woods
We have lost our ball from the blood
But we will get it back
Just have to find the bear
So won't you come to the woods and find that ball with us
Untitled
Hana Inazu
Classof 2027
Untitled Maeve Toolan Class of 2026
Temple of Sinawava
Rosie Davidson C,lass of 2026
Waterfall Lydia Shocklee Classof 2029
Untitled TamirTillman C,lass of 2026
Tears Over Fears
Sarah Kunz
C,lass of 2028
March
Artjst of the month
Intergalactic Chomper: The Licky Jar
Aiko Cagle, (,lass of 2026
ThatAutumn Breeze
Lilly Zanzie
Class of 2028
ellH!IF)t
Purple Ink
Maura Harkins
Class of 2028
(,overArt, February Contest Wjnner
HISTORY
Whitfield's art and literature magazine, the Secret Vojce, was founded infallof 1992, giving studentstheopportunity toexpressthemselvesinanew and creative way. The original faculty sponsor, Dr. Hays, a mainstay in the English department, conaborated with a small but dedicated group of students determined toamplify thecommunity's creativevoices. For nearly 3o years,the Secret Vojce showcased the artistic talents of Whitfield students.
The Secret Vojce was rebranded as Perspectjves in 2021, embracing the chance to offer both online and physical formats. With this change, the magazine embraced a broader range of artistic mediums to celebrate the incredible diversity of talentwithin our community.
However, in 2024, Perspectjveswasalmostdiscontinued. Itwas the continued efforts of the new leaders and faculty sponsor thatled to another rebranding, giving the magazine an updated theme, blending The Secret Vojce's traditional and artsy style. This renewed vision breathed newlife into the publication, reigniting its mission.
Finally,in 2025, Perspect'ivesintroduced anewmethod ofshowcasingart, creating zines, a miniature magazine halfway through the year to have more consistency in publications. These zines complementthe main publication, allowing artists to showcase their work more often.
