All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the author.
To the youth drawing strength from their ancestors to advocate for themselves. Your roots and your words are your power. Be powerful!
Acknowledgments
Thank you to the young poets who submitted your powerful words to this publication. Special thank you to the numerous schools that provided us the opportunity to present our poetry workshops for your students during the 2023-2024 school year. We look forward to partnering with you for the upcoming school year. We greatly appreciate the financial support from Caring for Denver Foundation, Bonfils-Stanton Foundation, Latino Community Foundation of Colorado, National Endowment for the Arts, Colorado Gives Foundation, Poetry Foundation, and individual donors. With your investment, we can publish, celebrate, and distribute books of poetry written by underserved youth as part of our programs in schools (workshops and student presentations), to encourage creative expression that reduces isolation, increases self-confidence, and increases the use of poetry and spoken word for coping and resilience.
Foreword
Welcome to “Our Words Are Powerful,” a yearly youth-written book of poetry from the Denver area edited, published, and distributed by Words To Power. Previous themes have included:
• “Our Ancestors Speak Through Us” (2023)
• “We Are Here For A Reason” (2022)
• “The Struggle Is Real, So Is Our Resilience” (2021)
For 2024, the “Our Roots, Our Words, Our Power” theme inspired insightful submissions from 133 youth, the vast majority of whom participated in Words To Power's poetry workshops (see wordstopower.org for more information). Volume 2 is a collection of poems from those ages 15 and older. We know you will find the power in these words as motivation for your own growth.
Words To Power conducts highly engaging and culturally relevant spoken word poetry workshops for Brown and other underserved youth in elementary, middle, and high schools in the Denver metro area and throughout Colorado. We partner with schools to produce poetry events with multiple participating classes coming together to share their spoken word with each other. Words To Power publishes a yearly youth-written poetry book, with most submissions coming from our workshop participants. Every summer, we host a book release event with contributors reading their poetry for their families and the greater community. Words To Power also collaboratively organizes quarterly community open mic events featuring youth who consistently participate in our programs.
The Words To Power logo draws inspiration from many sources. The overall structure is modeled after a corn plant, as our workshop curriculum uses it as a metaphor. The raised fist reminds us of our power to create change, as social justice movements before us have struggled to achieve. The scrolls on either side pull from Indigenous books in Mexico, as symbols of speech (thus the accompanying image from a codex of people talking to each other). Taken together, our words and power come from our roots.
Legacy by Adali Zermeno (age 15)
I am a teenager who will soon become an adult to carry my father’s legacy. I will never forget the beatings my mom gave me and my brothers before she would tell us, “no seas asi.”
I come from a family with dreams to be as wealthy as a rich man’s house. The struggle makes me push through con más fuerza.
In the mirror, I see a kid who will soon be so rich he cannot pull his pants up. With my hands, I will make this come true.
In my dreams, I imagine myself on a little kid’s wall. Even with my struggles, I will soon go far. Once you learn how to gain control, you will soon thrive like a flower with no water and no vines.
We Unite by Adali Zermeno (age 15)
With our voices, we can see how strong we are when we are united. Our words will give inspiration to young ones who will soon unite.
In our hands, we have the power to lift up someone who is down.
We reach out like we will soon be the next God. We throw out the negative and come in with the positive.
Together, we are stronger and more powerful. In this way, more people will hear us out con nuestros padres y madres.
We are people who will soon be looked at as parents and heroes to our kids.
Our roots will be so strong, we will be an army full of positive and grown-up kids.
All My Life by Aidan (age 15)
All my life, I have been the little one. I will always remember I come from a big family where the bond is strong. In the mirror, I see someone who belongs. In my dreams, I imagine doing greater things. We have the power to do everything. In our hands, we carry opportunity. Together, we can expand on this possibility. We are our own people. We will accomplish our goals. I just hope mine come with peace, helping those I love be at ease.
Coffee by Alejandro Steffani (age 15)
In the mirror, I see a coffee plant, planted by a young woman with determination to see it thrive. Her red hands were scarred with burns, day after day, struggling with money. But deep in her soul, she knew that the plant was hopeless without her. With that thought, she allowed it to begin to live in a better condition than what she experienced. Nurturing came from a man who could provide more water and compost, making the plant thrive through the dirt, cement, and injuries on his hands. With the experience gained from growing the first plant, they were able to plant two more with a better environment and more resources. Even if that meant more weight on their backs, it would all be worth it to see the crops rise, produce more leaves, grow strong roots, and most importantly, provide coffee.
In a Flash by Alexander Hurtado (age 15)
I woke up to gunshots at night, hoping everyone was fine. My grandma was traumatized. Thinking of revenge, knowing exactly who it was, I tried my best not to cry. I started checking around my room. Four bullets had flown in, all hitting the ceiling. But I did not think that there were another five: one in the living room, two in my parents’ room, and one in my sister’s room. I continued looking and found another by my bed, as I saw life flash before for my eyes.
My Parents’ Dream In Me by
Ashley Esparza (age 15)
I am my parents’ babosa, the only daughter and youngest of three kids. I come from immigrant parents who came from Aguascalientes. Their sacrifices show me that nothing comes easy and everything is earned in this life. In the mirror, I see a future first-generation college graduate. In my eyes, I see myself being the first daughter to accomplish my parents’ dream. I imagine myself walking across the stage receiving my parents’ award. With the sacrifices they made, I believe in the end, it will all be worth it.
Danza
by Axel MC (age 15)
As I mark each of my steps, I envision my ancestors preserving the ways of our people, making sacrifices for the future generations. I give all I have to honor and represent what was stolen, to reimburse and to replenish. In the midst of the movement, being nervous is unavoidable. But with the thought of influencing the youth, my body just flows with the beat. Releasing trauma and thoughts of stress, I feel welcomed and a sense of belonging building from each moment, giving a purpose to keep moving.
Red Water by Azucena (age 15)
Hand in hand, hold on to me, and I will hold another's. Each of us, in our hands, will create a path. Like roots within the forest, we will intertwine, connect, become one power.
Bind yourself to me. I can make you a promise, a promise to never let go, never cutting the tangle of our roots.
I promise to overcome, outlast, leave the hurt behind.
Let us tie our vocal cords together, become the voice of one, the only voice needed for all left behind, slowly connecting to us to make this voice have the highest power.
Let us mash together our ideas. Let us be one history, one victory, one future, the present, and the gift of now.
Tell this story of yours and mine. Hold my ancient hand in that of yours just born, be a story in which I can live as well.
Flowing in your veins shall we run,
the rivers that carved out the cliffs and mountain ranges, shall carve out the stories of ours, running hand to hand in lengths from 6 feet down to the further future.
Bind yourself to me and be my guide, as I blindly run trying to find the purpose of which I dream of.
With a blurry dream, I may be blind, but I can still feel the water, the warm river, soft on my skin taking me downstream towards my disposal ground. Gone will I be, like those before, forgotten, but living will be my story.
Bind yourself to me and drag me out. Take my hair into your hands and braid it. Return us to our roots and nourish the young. Ancient hands give a kiss to the newborn hands, ingraining the stories told by ancient mouths, skin to skin, life to life, kisses of life.
Bind the pages to leather. Finish the stories with beauty, cover and cover.
En la Vida y en la Muerte
by Briana Rojas Tapia (age 15)
“La muerte es hermosa. La vida es breve y valiosa. La muerte le da valor a la vida.” My nona used to say this, as her wrinkled hands amasaban el nixtamal in that peculiar room with lo rojizo del adobe and the heat of the fire para el comal.
As a child, I never thought of las palabras I was told. My nona’s words would fly away from my mind, as I only cared about not falling as I ran and not having to endure el dolor de aquel líquido morado. If there was something worse than “Yo te dije,” it was the burning sensation en la rodilla, knowing a tear would break my facade.
Now, I am older, and my nona is accompanied by la catrina, dancing an eternal baile en el más allá, because la muerte es hermosa. La vida es breve y valiosa, pero parece que no lo entiendo después de tantos años because I am lost in the world away from my life.
To a Little Raindrop by
Briana Rojas Tapia
I feel a little raindrop run down my face, washing away my sadness. Maybe that is why I like you because we are similar. My life is just like those gray clouds that embrace the sky. It all seems dark and gray. But inside, it is just a beautiful combination made of positivity and negativity. Just like in chemistry, it searches for its missing piece. You have seen all the things, from war and death to water splashing by those laughing voices. You have seen all the things, but still you come to us with that miracle my eyes would not stop seeing: to raise us from our falls, to show us the beauty of life, to become a friend who embraces us in our worst days.
(age 15)
Sunflower by
Delilah
Contreras (age 15)
I am a sunflower.
I wonder why I do not look good like the others. I hear bees buzzing around me. I see other plants being taken care of.
I sit alone in my own grass. I want to be taken care of.
I want to be by and like the others. I am a sunflower.
I pretend to feel strong and like the others. I barely receive any water to help me grow.
I worry I will be unwell and die.
I cry to be watered and loved by someone like I see for others. I am a sunflower.
I understand people forget about me.
I say and think how you can forget. I dream of being watered and fed.
I hope to be strong and well like everyone else. I am a sunflower.
A Debt by Eduardo (age 15)
I am the hard work of my parents. I carry the future they want me to have. I come from a Mexican family, with a dad who will break his back to take care of us. Their sacrifices have helped me immensely, providing a roof over my head, food on the table, and a dream for the future. In the mirror, I see someone who will try his best to repay his father for everything he has done. On my shoulders, I carry this debt and responsibility. In my dreams, I imagine me as an adult, with money and a good house for my parents, even though there will be people trying to stop me.
The Arts of Music by Elijah (age 15)
I am Elijah and I have a unique music taste for my age. I will never forget my username chatni1.
I come from Houston, Texas, where my people live. Their love is like blue crystals. In the mirror, I see Mac Demarco and John Coltrane, both very successful music artists. In my eyes, I see red, black, and green big money.
In my dreams, I see myself being a very good drummer and playing in a cool jazz band. I believe I will be a musician!
Sueños by Fernanda Lopez-Medina (age 15)
Yo soy hija de padres, padres que sueñan poder ayudar y darles a sus hijas sus sueños, los sueños que ellos quieren ver cumplir, sueños that will help them and carry them, carry them through su vejez, vejez en cual ellos vivirán en México, México, su México querido, cual los vio crecer y soñar, los sueños de salir de la pobreza, la pobreza que ellos han vivido. Vivieron una vez así y no quieren vivirla otra vez. Day after day, they break their backs, for a chance for us to survive.
I Am Still a Kid by Genaro Araiza (age 15)
I am a kid who wants to take care of family and friends. I will never forget the people who had to make sacrifices for me. I come from a family that experienced a lot of struggle, but from that struggle, I became successful. Their sacrifices were not for nothing. In the mirror, I see a happy kid who wants to make his parents proud. On my shoulders, I carry my parents’ hopes for me. In my dreams, I imagine me having a loving family and friends in the future. I have the power to make this a reality.
Dreams and Resentment by Isidro (age 15)
I am the strength of my culture. I will never forget the importance of the sacrifices my family has made to make me who I am. I come from the wisdom that flows within my people. Their determination pushes me to fly towards my dreams in the sky. In the mirror, I see the beauty of inspiration and motivation. With my culture, I glow in resemblance to the struggles and success of my ancestors. In my dreams, I imagine me and my people bathing in the success that we deserve.
The resentment some might feel for our culture does not stop us from our goals. We use the unfairness of others’ actions as motivation
to keep going and prove them wrong.
With our voices, we speak up and advocate for ourselves while also inspiring those who come after. In our hands, we carry the strength and determination to reach for our dreams.
Life's Wonders by Jayla Brito (age 15)
I am my family's pride and joy. I will always remember the sacrifices my parents made for me. I come from a family that places very high expectations as weight on my shoulders. The struggle makes me want to become better, to keep them from constantly asking for too much. In the mirror, I see the opportunities waiting for me as I grow older. I surround myself with positive mindsets that push me toward my future. In my dreams, I imagine the person who will, in the future, provide for my family. I have the power to make a change, to make this world a better place, and to make this future come true.
A Kid Looking for Dreams by
Jonathan Ortega (age 15)
I am a little boy who comes from the dark, looking for light, having dreams to become. I will always remember where I came from and the roots of my parents. I came from a little town with low standards, planning to move on, looking for a better life on the other side. I get inspiration, de mis padres, los que me apoyaron de chiquito a grande. In the mirror, I see the future, leading me to a better life, having dreams to succeed. En mis manos, tengo decisiones en que descubrir que en el futuro se puedan cumplir. In my dreams, I imagine a better me, a much more powerful me, a kid who plans to help his family. Even though there is a long way to go, there is no way that we cannot be bigger than all.
With Our Words, We Are Powerful by Jonathan Ortega (age 15)
With our voices, we can inspire people to be someone in the world. Our words are the key for them to believe, as kids going for their dreams. We have the power in our words and speech to be the best we can be. Together, we bring strength, power, and unity to convince our community. Our motivation is our ancestors who were brought into this world. We are Mexicans who come for a better life, hoping to help our family and friends. Our roots will soon grow bigger and stronger.
Alcanzando Sueños by
Joselyn
Yo soy capaz de cumplir los sueños que mis padres desearon alcanzar. Growing up with struggles and learning from my pain becomes the motivation that keeps me going.
Vengo de una familia de bolsillos vacíos con muchos sueños que no pudieron ver logrados. Pero como primera hija, vengo a cumplirlos. Vengo a ver los destellos en sus ojos, como una estrella en la noche brillando cada vez más fuerte.
In the mirror, I see a valley with ups and down con días soleados y oscuros como un día de tormenta. Con mucha frustración, pero también con mucho autoestima, vio como llenar los sueños de mi familia y los míos. Con mucha esperanza y fe en Dios,
I imagine myself fulfilling my parents’ empty pockets. I will give them the life they deserve, never forgetting the example mis padres mexicanos left me. Crecí pobre pero honrada, con mis manos llenas de muchos sueños y logros cumplidos.
Sanchez Bautista (age 15)
Oh Music by JT Guerrero (age 15)
The universal refrain, oh music, you surround my everyday life. You are a universal language that can fill our hearts with joy and light, or a melody that can make a miserable night. Oh music, as the beautiful guitar strums, you press piano keys like typing an essay. I am at peace. Oh music, from the gentle wave of a lullaby to the energetic beats of Hip Hop, you comfort me in times of downheartedness and celebrate with us in times of delightfulness. I will always hear you, oh music.
Respeto y Poder por Junior (15 años de edad)
En nuestras voces, podemos ver sentimientos como enojo, tristeza y amor. Ellos alcanzan muchas cosas porque los sentimientos los puedes usar para motivarte.
Yo soy una persona que tiene mucha paciencia y mucho respeto con los demás. Siempre recordaré que a todos los merecemos mucho respeto, sobre todo a las personas mayores.
En nuestras manos, tenemos sangre Mexicana. Los mexicanos tenemos el poder de hacer que méxico sea un lugar más seguro y más grande.
United Imagination by Kelly (age 15)
In my dreams, I imagine everyone coexisting as a tree with different roots in one land supporting our strength. Like a soldier searching for a paradise, our determination will continue fighting, no matter the odds.
In the mirror, I see a version of a mountain, rather than a pebble, who has been inspired by someone's past letter.
I come from their sacrifice of a mask hiding an event. Yet, it is not too late to upgrade our honesty, as the sun keeps moving.
In our hands, we carry responsibility other than for ourselves, for we have a chance to fix what has been broken in the past.
We need to make a lot of effort with each other, to open our reality, not some fantasy.
Heritage by Kiara (age 15)
I shape the dream my ancestors imagined, the dream of having the strength to go after who they wanted to be.
I come from generations of enslavement where you would only be who you were assigned to be. I come from a home where you shaped the person you wanted to be, a home where high expectations were the goal, a goal of getting my family out of the hole.
In the mirror, I see the sacrifices and determination my mother made, her words cemented into my head:
“Go do something with your life, be great. It is okay if you ache, pero has algo.”
Everyday,
I am reminded of who I am, where I come from, what I look like.
My curly hair loudly announces my Dominican heritage and my brown skin shows my Mexican traits.
“Go back to where you came from,”
they yell down the street, not knowing back home is where I really want to be.
Someday, I will make it back home, but not without causing one heck of a blow.
My achievements weigh on me, just like the chains they put on my ancestors, as I embrace my curly hair, my brown skin, my culture, and my heritage.
With my voice, I will speak of who I am, and who I will be. I will help those who need reassurance about who they are.
Together, we can achieve a future where kids like us will not be discriminated against.
We can finally live at peace within ourselves.
Mirror of the World by Kimberly Lara-S. (age 15)
I am the daughter of parents who traveled day and night to bring their children the fate of a red string within a location that made the light reach the ground. This exact light brought the family together, like how the sun and moon coexist. The stars align to make a bridge, to finalize their moments simultaneously, a panorama of the beauty of a never-ending cycle of creation and termination. I come from a home I call a haven, an escape from all the rivers and mountains I have yet to reach. Once the doors open to the place everyone calls home, one with unlimited resources if treated correctly, earth shall protect its inhabitants from the never-ending vacuum of space. There is yet to be another oasis that decides to house as many species as Earth. The pieces of Earth, however, are slowly falling out of place. The scale of stability is tilting out of favor for the human race. The destruction created by people
is drowning from the inside. To get the puzzle back together, the plant of resurrection needs to adapt to the ashes of the perishable. In the mirror, I see the wings that will take me to a sanctuary, a place where everyone wants to reside. No calamities would ruin the peace. No injustice would break a person’s heart. No aspects would ruin one’s life. This place would welcome all, but no one thinks it is real enough. This dream people may say is impossible, yet one can only hope that they can go one day. In my dreams, I imagine world peace that will never be reached by humans. Whether they would be kind and respectful or wise and diligent, there will always be a side unknown to everyone. We never know someone unless we are that someone.
Dear Bed by Maria (age 15)
My lovely bed, so warm and cozy, I look forward to see you. Light pink and white, I have my loudest dreams with you. So energizing with the feeling of nostalgia, I am afraid to get lost in you. I begin everyday with you. I am so sad when I leave your side, daydreaming about when we will reunite. I am hopeless without you. I end every day with you so joyfully.
Amazing by Mayra Coronado (age 15)
I am amazing with kids. I wonder how long I will live for.
Will I live as long as Queen Elizabeth? I hear I can do it, but can I really? I see myself being happy around the people I love and babies. I want true happiness in a relationship like in Disney movies. I am amazing with kids. I pretend to be happy at my worst moments. I feel loved around friends and little kids.
I touch my hair when I am nervous to calm myself down. I hope to do well in school, as a good example for kids. I cry for loved ones who have died.
I am amazing with kids. I understand that not everything is easy in life.
I say I will make it in life and do good things. I dream big about my future, like a big bag of cotton candy. I try to do good in school so I can be someone in life and be a role model for these little princesses and princes. I hope I do good in life and make great things happen. I am amazing with kids.
The Cape Blooming with Affection by Miguel Guillen (age 15)
I am the hero of my parents' sacrifices. They gave me a cape blessed with love. I come from a family full of stars for me to reach. I hold the power of my ancestors to inspire me for the future I pursue. In the mirror, I see a kid with a reflection of his parents’ dreams, a kid who desires to finish what was once started. In my dreams, I imagine taking my family away from ruins, using the wings they built on me to fly as high as they could take me.
A Young Hispanic Boy by Nathan Martinez (age 15)
I am young Hispanic boy surrounded by people who also want to make something out of themselves. I feel inspired seeing people encourage others to never give up, and as one of my goals is to inspire people too.
I come from the trenches of Denver, not knowing what I want to do with my life and how I will make my ancestors proud. I come from the roots of hard-working people, which make me determined to push through any little hard spot in life.
In the mirror, I see a young Hispanic man trying to be someone inspiring, trying to make the people who struggle to support me proud.
In my dreams, I imagine being successful, carrying the roots of my ancestors. With their sacrifice, they inspire me to find the strength to reach out and be something in life.
Fixing My Broken Past by Ocean (age 15)
I am the ashes from my family’s broken past, the stripped power from my ancestors, the traditions stomped into the ground, like they did not matter. With my voice, I can rediscover my sense of self, the self who died in the era of school shootings, the self who understood her culture, the self who was not clouded by the traumas of my past. From my hands, I can let the past run free, no longer weighing me down in the bottom of the ocean, suffocating me with the alcoholic father who destroyed my family, or my Abuelita, who neglected and left my mom cultureless, my mom who wanted to forget her culture because it left her with terrible memories she did not want to force onto us. I am grateful for my mom but sometimes, I wish she did not marry that white guy, the white guy, my father, who told her she could not teach her kids Spanish. I am grateful for my dad but he is weighing me down in my journey to self-growth, my journey to rediscover what makes me Mexican.
I love my mom but now I do not know much about being Mexican. I guess the traditions she had,
she left in Mexico when she fled. I love my family but they are constantly weighed down in the past, unable to move on, unable to break the chains of each and every broken generation. We said we would not be like our parents, but here we are becoming our mothers who birthed us, losing a piece of our culture with each year that passes. I will not be my parents. I am from our broken past but I refuse to let my future stay broken. My future is different from their past. I am from our broken past but alongside you, we can rediscover what has been forgotten.
Dreams by Pamela (age 15)
I am the girl with big dreams and big hopes. My dreams and hopes are pretty simple: to not worry about money, and thank God for all the blessings he has given me.
I come from my parents' sacrifices, giving me strength, making me realize that I need to be someone big.
In the mirror, I see a person who tries her best, gathering my habits and releasing the ones that can never lead me to lasting happiness and freedom.
In my dreams, I imagine a successful person. Being successful is not easy, but with the right mindset, si es posible.
My siblings, family, and ancestors me dan el poder.
Hopes and Dreams by R.R. (age 15)
I am the root of strength from my ancestors. I carry the dreams for my people hoping for a better tomorrow. I come from dreams of a land where reality wakes you up, to reach out for hope. I can touch determination and motivation. I will never forget my roots. I choose to keep pushing for a better tomorrow. I surround myself with better people so I can bring out the better version of myself.
With our voices, we can find strength to motivate our future. Together, we reach out to the power inside us, the dreams we will never forget. This way, we find the strength to be a better person. In our hands, we hold power to unite and build a better community. We are the roots of inspiration. We can give motivation to our younger generation. The power we inspire can unite us together and build community. We will always remember where we come from. Our ancestors’ determination will not be forgotten. We will carry their legacy.
Hopes and Sacrifices by Ruben (age 15)
I am the hope of my parents, the dream of inheritance. I want to represent the culture, so do not think of me as a vulture. I carry the hope of my family, with failure of 5, I will succeed, hoping we can thrive. I come from a place of hardship, a place of struggle, a place where many choose rebuttal. Their sacrifices give me inspiration and hope, poetry and singing help me cope. In the mirror, I see a Xicano with flaws. I have made mistakes like the characters in Jaws. In my dreams, I imagine a life without pain but it is what we must go through, even though it is a strain. With our voices, we can change the way some view our kind, and have a more positive state of mind. Our words can help influence this, I like to go to the mountains and fish.
In our hands, we can make this possible, DBZ tree of might being cannon is not plausible. Our future relies on the power of words, but it brings out both the best and the worst.
Podemos por Sanders Morillo (15 años de edad)
Con nuestras voces, podemos hacer maravillas, podemos ayudar a personas a mejorar sus emociones. En nuestras manos, nosotros podemos salvar almas que buscan otros caminos, podemos ayudarlos a ir por un buen camino.
Juntos podemos lograr cambiar al mundo, hacer que las personas se quieran tal y como son. Somos personas maravillosas, podemos hacer de este mundo mejor con personas que sean sinceras, razonables y que valoren.
I Am by Sara (age 15)
I am my family's hope. I come from my mom’s stomach. I love my mom. In the mirror, I see this person. In my dreams, I imagine being rich and having a mansion. I love my family. I will try hard for them. Their sacrifices will be worth it.
Success by Saul Garcia (age 15)
I am the hopes and dreams in my parents’ eyes striving to make it farther than they did. I carry my parents’ hopes and dreams like a torch through life’s maze, lighting my way to see through the haze.
I come from the language of my mother and my father. Together, they teach me the ways of connecting my people.
In the mirror, I see a child who has changed into a powerful person. With my voice, I can bring the dawn of a new day, inspiring others with every word I say.
In my dreams, I imagine building the foundation that holds up my family, each effort a stone laid with care, a shelter of strength beyond compare. Hopes rise like towers touching the sky where my aspirations fly.
Brain Rot by Uriel (age 15)
I am the next Albert Einstein, the only one immune to the brain rot of this generation. I come from MLG trick-shot videos, something that actually motivated me to do something for the world. I did not grow up like today’s kids, who lose brain cells every time they stare at a screen. In the mirror, I see a winner staring right back at me. I see a brain that has not been touched by the horrors of what is Skibidi Toilet and talking chicken nuggets. In my dreams, I imagine a world where society’s expectations are ignored and do not influence kids to do things like looks-maxing. With our voices, we can bring the future back from the darkness. We have tools in our hands but are not using them. So, until we do, taking the first steps is what matters. Together, we can reject the caveman mentality and make the world a place for liberty and justice for all.
The Future by Yamilet
Martinez (age 15)
I am my parents' future dream. With my voice, I can encourage my people to speak up and feel no guilt for saying something. Our words can be the start of something big and give us new hope. We build a connection with each other, because we share the same struggles. Together, we are on a mission, sacrificing to build a better tomorrow. I am the new voice. We all have the power to say something y tal vez cambiar las cosas.
With our voices, we can show them the importance of our culture. Our struggles are our motivation para seguir adelante.
Ode to
Seshollowaterboyz by Alexander Ponce (age 16)
Through the heart of the underground scene they came, Seshollowaterboyz light the way. With beats that thump and rhymes that soar, they craft their tales, forevermore.
Xavier, Bones, Eddy, and Chris, their energy ignites, impossible to miss. From cyphers to stages, they command, their music a force, a sonic brand. Memphis’s sons, their voices and verses speak loud, the streets and shows they crowd. Through highs and lows, they stand tall, their legacy etched in the underground hall.
Xavier, Bones, Eddy, and Chris, this is for you for keeping it real, for staying true. In the beats we embrace, they find their voice, forever echoing, Seshollowaterboyz rejoice.
To My Dear Kids by Angeles Chagolla (age 16)
One day, the light was turned off, turned off like there was nobody else here needing to see, turned off like there was nothing left to do, turned off like announcing this is the end.
I wondered where the sun was. I wondered where did I lose my mind. I wondered if it was just a dream. I wondered if there was something more to stay alive.
But one day, I looked up. One day, I looked for you, until one day, I just found you. I saw the light and I woke up from my dream.
“Wakey, wakey,” you said, with your deep voice.
“It is time to wake up,” you said, motivating me.
I opened my eyes, and there, there were you, the sunshine, Felix Yongbok.
But you were not alone, and I was not alone. Then we both listened to “Americano~” and we laughed and smiled as he sang, Hwang Hyunjin, who was not a joke, who was more than a precious stone.
I was now awake and I was happy, but what about the sweetness? What about the warmth that melts the ice in my heart, that erases the cold in my room? “Our Aegyo will make you melt!” said Hannie and Binnie, and now I was melted I was happy and I was giving to my heart.
Everything was good outside, but what about the inside?
The heart was full, full with one big empty spot. But I was good, good because I love you. Then “Why?” I asked, my brain said, “You are not enough.” My body said, “I am not enough,” and then two answers came up,
“You are enough!” Seungmin said, “You are beautiful,” I.N. said
Now, I could give love, Now, I could smile to life. Now, I was alive! But now, there were creatures that did not like that. Now, I walked afraid. Now, I had doubts.
Now, I ask: “Is this really ok?” “Be as you are… They won’t get close” Chris and Know said.
Now, I was in the center Now, I was not cold. Now, I wasn’t sad Now, I was not afraid.
Now, I could not stop loving. Now, I was breathing, leaving, and finally existing, existing in the same world where they were, where I am.
A Memory by Arianna Atkerson (age 16)
The cheerios stained my mind, my memory.
You began to fade. You were everywhere. Now, you are nowhere. My heartaches with the memories we made. A needle pierced my skin, feeling like you were here again. It is just ink and skin.
I will never forget the time we had. It will never be enough, the ocean in your eyes, the sound of your laugh.
I will never forget the time we had, forever and always in memory, never to touch again. The cheerio stained my mind and now, my heart again. Your life may have been short, but I will love you for EVERY second of mine.
Stars by Briana (age 16)
Bright, shiny, you are so beautiful in my eyes. Only visible at night, you are always there with your calming presence. At night, when no one is around, I go outside to enjoy your company. You always listen, sometimes looking at me. You tell me to make a wish. So, I close my eyes while you twinkle in the sky. I make my wish as you shine so bright. The light in the dark, you bring peace to my soul, as you always have.
Recuerda por Del Refugio (16 años de edad)
Nuestras voces dirán historias sobre experiencias y errores, sobre horrores.
Y cada sufrimiento individual será mezclado en una cúpula.
En nuestras manos, reposa la responsabilidad, de honrar aquel monumento, hecho de las lágrimas de los que se quedaron atrás.
Together, we shelter ourselves from something so cold as ICE, because we walk to the opulence, being aware of misery.
Somos voces luchando en la algarabía, diciendo testimonios de esa agua turbia.
Mientras vamos por el camino, guiados por veladoras, escuchando oraciones devotas de quienes las custodian.
Así que cuando al rezar pregunten, “¿Dónde están los ángeles?”
Diremos, “somos los ángeles!”
Somos las golondrinas buscando una primavera.
Orange Cat by Diamond (age 16)
I am like an orange cat. I wonder about the aspects of the world, wondering about my purpose in life. I hear loud or small noises anywhere near me. I see everything around me. I want the affection or attention of someone.
I am an orange cat. I pretend to be bigger than what I really am. I feel any sense of danger or excitement. I touch others the way I want to be loved. I worry about being abandoned. I cry so quiet that no one can hear my whimpers.
I am an orange cat. I understand other people's behaviors. I say something to get someone’s attention. I dream of being loved and getting the affection I want. I try to make others notice me by making quick movements or sounds. I hope someone will notice me.
I am an orange cat.
Dear Crocs, I Love You by Diego C. Rivera (age 16)
I love how comfortable you are on my tootsies. Your comfort brings me warmth, brings me happiness, like a cozy fireplace on a gloomy day, like warm soup. You are as comfy as a silk sheet bed, like your couch when you are tired, like a new car. I truly love my Crocs to the moon and back. I put them on when going outside or wear them as slippers when walking inside. But either way, dear Crocs, I love you.
Motivation for Change by Esmeralda Lopez (age 16)
We speak for ourselves, because no one else will help. Our sacrifices matter. We express those feelings that hold us back from change. We reach out to the stars to have the right to express and not be judged. Together, we work for the changes that will take time but success is not far. Our strength comes from the news of our hard-working parents losing their jobs for being “aliens” in a country that is about “Freedom.” It has us quiet, overpowered by those who make us look like the “aliens” in this amazing but failing country.
Oh, Sun by Estefani Rodriguez (age 16)
You give me delight. You are happiness in the sky, lighting up my world. You are a shining star, yet so far from love. It is time for the sun to shine and light up people’s lives. Not even the clouds can stop you from lighting up the world. Your brightness strips off a whole night’s darkness. You can see everything, but nobody can look at you. Your beautiful sunsets make me daydream.
Dear Wrestling by
Gabriel Sisneros (age 16)
The first time I stepped into that padded room, I was timid.
I was not sure what to make of it. But after a few days, I felt peace and happiness.
You kept my life interesting with thrill and excitement, but also bliss.
I found calm in your storm of madness, keeping me sane and content.
But…
Injuries that were formed by us started to keep me away from your peace.
I started to feel nothing and lost without your bliss, submerged in insanity.
I became bitter, not knowing if anything would be fine.
I blamed you for turning our cake, once so beautiful,
into something dry and stale.
Our shining light became dim and started to flicker on and off.
It hurt to see you give everyone else a bliss that shined, while darkness corroded my soul.
Then… You came back to me, shining your beautiful beam of light on me.
You gave me that feeling of happiness caped in madness.
I am glad you came back. But now I am happy you left as well.
You showed me that not everything is certain and it can be washed away in an instant.
You are unpredictable. This is the one thing I know about you.
Always, Gabe
Ode to Playing Cards by Gil Duran (age 16)
The dealer gave me a bad hand, something like a dead hand. I spilt my aces, placed my bet, $5,000. King of hearts, my eyes are cold and set. Lady luck sits beside me, fearful of the next hit. With a quiet hum of the shuffler, I drip of cold sweat. Dealer bust, gleam in my eye, I finally won a piece of the pie. I tell the dealer, “See you next time!”
Black and Gold by Gil Duran (age 16)
I am black and gold. I wonder about the future and the stories told. I hear gears change and the throttle press. I see light within the mess. Even with smoke and mirrors, I want to hope, but worry about the words I invoke.
I am black and gold I pretend the weight on my shoulders is not equal to mountains so cold.
I feel the tremble in my hands, my actions taking a toll. I touch hearts and minds, but never my own.
I worry about keeping face, in a melting pot’s rat race. I cry to the winds both west and east, my voice reaching out to find peace. I understand the reason for change. I say one day that I will own a skyline that I arrange. I dream of finer things in life. I try to push pass the problems and the strife.
I hope everything goes according to the dreams I hold.
I am black and I am gold.
The New Change by Jay (age 16)
I am the person you do not want to be. I will never forget everything I had going in my life. Do not get caught up in what your environment is doing, trust me, it is unhealthy. I come from a great family with no bad intentions or people. I also come from a dark, grimy childhood and a dangerous community with a few people influencing the youth to do wrong. In the mirror, I see a person who could have done way better in life, a person who could have been more positive than negative. In my dreams, I imagine a person who can change the new generation, by telling and showing them healthy things.
My Ode to Football by King (age 16)
Dear Football,
I remember when I first picked you up that you were going to be the best thing for me. My body fills up with pride every time I make a catch, my heart beating like it has never done before. Remembering when coach would say “Y’all ready to play?” my body would fuel up with fire, goosebumps riding my skin. Butterflies fill my stomach the first glance I get of the field. My mind runs around in the locker room, hoping I can give this game my all.
I remember how we would group up all in one like a unit. My favorite moment had to be kick return. I loved how my team was able to trust me with the ball. Football became so special to me, coming from a kid who was a gamer to become a kid wanting to be played, like in a video game.
Opening Doors by Luis Vazquez (age 16)
I am someone who wants to help my parents accomplish their dreams. I will never forget the day when we did not have anything to eat.
I come from working my blood and sweat to succeed in life. I get motivation when I think of my dreams. In the mirror, I see the person I will become. In my eyes, nothing is impossible. In my dreams, I imagine soaring through my future. I can see a lot of doors opening.
The Hateful World by Luna (age 16)
I am the pain, grief, and doubt that lives in the cracks and crevices of this world even when you think you are alone. I am always there with you. Whether I am in front or behind, I am always on your mind.
I come from the hate and negative energy that is put out into the world. Therefore, I have no singular birthplace because I am anywhere and everywhere, from the highest mountain to the deepest part of the ocean.
In the mirror, I see a black cloud of smoke, ready to be put out because to be left alone is more dangerous than to be dealt with.
In my dreams, I imagine if I did not exist what would the world be like, how would people act, how would they live without me haunting their mind, creeping up when you least expect. Without me in this world, it would be unbalanced and fall apart.
Dear Spanish
by Majo Reyes (age 16)
It is truly astonishing how I find myself drifting away from you, a companion since my earliest days. You are the sole acquaintance of my kin. As I journey forward, I struggle to part ways with you in my abode. I must carry you along, a steady companion wherever my path leads. Yet, for me to thrive, I must refine you. I must converse in a more refined dialect. However, I cannot advance into the unknown without my roots, my people, their heritage, and their tongue.
To cease conversing with you would be a betrayal of self, yet to persist is to forsake my future, my prospects.
The melodies you weave narrate unlike any other, stirring emotions swiftly within individuals. In our dialogues, I find solace in being authentic, free from the burden of mental translations. I am not alone in my reluctance to bid farewell. It is not your desire either, for you remain by my side, embodied in my distinctive accent, resonating with pride. I hold you in high regard and yearn to unravel your depths eternally, yet circumstances compel me to exclude you from my daily existence.
Sweet
Home,
I Miss You by Majo Reyes (age 16)
In the stillness of the night, memories flood my mind of a place where love and laughter intertwined.
A childhood filled with joy, under the sun's warm glow, where dreams were born and friendships would grow.
The American Dream, a distant call from afar, a journey taken, a soul adrift like a star. Leaving behind the familiar, the known, seeking a future in lands far away from home.
Rainy days and childhood games in the street, no worries, no cares, just laughter sweet. A mother's voice calling as daylight fades, promises made, in memories they cascade.
"Nieta, yo estaré cuando cumplas 15 años y cuando te gradues," she said, but time slipped by, dreams left unsaid.
Friends vowed to be forever close, yet life's currents carried us in the direction each chose.
Now I stand here, a teenager in a foreign land, yearning for the touch of my homeland's hand.
Questions linger, doubts arise: Why did I leave? Where do my loyalties lie?
The past whispers softly, a bittersweet song, of moments cherished, of belonging strong. I miss the flavors, the faces, the embrace of a place that shaped me, my heart's true home base
So, I ponder and wonder, in the still of the night: If I could turn back time, would I take flight, or embrace the path that led me here, in search of a future, free from fear?
Home calls to me, in whispers and sighs, a place of solace under familiar skies.
Yet here I am, a wanderer in a foreign land, holding onto memories, like grains of sand.
In the tapestry of life, threads intertwine, binding me to the past, to roots divine. A journey of self, of growth, of pain, in the echoes of home, I find my refrain.
Dear Darkness by Martin Acosta (age 16)
I remember when I used to fear you, turning off the light in the kitchen and running back, so you could not catch me. I always wondered, what kind of monster you hide inside of the darkness. But you know what, as I grow up, we got used to each other. I feel calm when I am with you. The inspiration comes to me when we are together. When we talk about my problems, you are a pretty good listener. Being in meditation around you always brings me the right answer. Dear darkness.
In My Roots by Oenessa Saenz (age 16)
I am a person who was brought up on burned CD’s and alternative music, running through the streets with the neighborhood kids.
In the hands of my family, we hold onto our childhoods, clinging onto them like fragile porcelain, touching our souls with dirty hands.
Together, we reminisce on what we came from. We connect through what we never had.
With our voices, we can yell, yell to our ancestors on the mountain tops, praying they can understand our problems.
I come from two different types of Native, stepping on two different types of old land. My ancestors conjoin together to make a field of blessing, their sacrifices shining through the wall of forgetfulness.
I look in the mirror and see someone breaking generational chains, reaching out for a bar of imagination to pull me up from reality.
I close my eyes to form pictures of the future.
In my dreams, I imagine walking alongside of success. I have created this world where I am the best. I look to my side and see my family.
We are pieces of a puzzle brought together because we belong together.
Dear My Favorite Lip Liner by Penelope Ruiz (age 16)
Since the day I bought you, I felt as if you would be by my side forever. I use you every day. You complete me. I feel more confident when I have your presence. I bring you everywhere I go, reapplying your vibrant colors to my lips every time you begin to fade. Without you, I feel lost and plain. You add color to my life. Without you, it is a world of black and white. With you, I am vibrant and filled with joy. You are the light of my life.
Ode to Silence by Raudel Ibarra Mendez
Jr (age 16)
My praise to silence, as it instantly puts me in a better mood like the transition from complete silence to water droplets hitting the surface of my body, from silence to the swaying of trees, from silence to the rustling of leaves. I see it too, the silence of watching my own breath on a cold night, the silence of observing millions of snowflakes coming into view. From the satisfying sound of stomping on snow to silence, from the pleasing sounds of waves on a beautiful beach to silence, it is just me with my thoughts in quiet silence. The silence magically makes me forget the worries of the past, present, and future, even the silence on a not so okay day, or the silence on a lonely afternoon. But, just know whether old or young, poor or rich, from earth or not, no matter what, there will always be silence.
I Am Me by Raudel Ibarra Mendez Jr (age 16)
I am a teen. I wonder if I will change for better or worse. I hear constant ridicule around me. I look at my phone and see phonies. I want school to be a memory.
I am problematic. I pretend to be outgoing. I feel like a blank board. I touch my phone and lose myself. I worry about being a burden on ones who will be buried. I cry, knowing I will bear the burden of the ones I will lose.
I am a son. I understand my education takes action.
I say I am fine, but I lie. I dream to leap unimaginable heights. I try to be me. I hope to be praised. I am just human.
The
Better
Tomorrow by Shantell (age 16)
I am the strength of my family’s sacrifices. I come from the struggle that makes me powerful, ignoring the voices in the past that are trying to hold me back. In the mirror, I see the scars that will heal in my future. I reach out a hand to lift up those who have fallen. I carry the light of a better tomorrow.
Dear Music by Xitlali (age 16)
The music went out and through my ears. As the music grew louder, my mind became quieter. Each time I listen, I feel relaxed, happy, sad, mad, annoyed. But music is the one that is there. Listening every time and any kind, YES, YES, YES, “You help me,” l said. Anytime and anywhere, I can listen to you with friends, jajaja. We vibe to the music, singing loud and proud. YES, YES, I love music.
Ode to Baseball by Yarel Almazan (age 16)
The ball is thrown. You can see the stitches, the grip, and texture of the baseball. The crack in the glove is loud when I catch it. You feel everything: the gloves’ texture, the bat hitting the ball while standing still, running, and jogging. You go through everything: wrist pain, shoulder injuries, tournaments for the best players, winning to be the best, getting points from a home run, running to first base, sliding home. The final score went from 14-15 to 16-15.
Lukewarm Christian by
Abigail Santos (age 17)
I am a lukewarm Christian. I wonder why sweet and bitter water cannot flow from the same fountain. I hear this every sermon on Sundays. I see people praise and worship like they do not leave the temple to do the same wicked things. I want to not be like them. Instead, I want to lift my worship and hope to make my Father proud. I am a lukewarm Christian. I pretend to not see any of these things because we are taught that it is “none of our business.”
I feel this guilt when even I clap my hands because I know I am not worthy of being there. I touch my face, wiping the tears from my eyes after what I think is his presence fills me. I worry when the day of his return comes, what I have done will not been enough. I cry when I picture him saying, “Depart from me I never knew you.”
I am a lukewarm Christian. I understand the things I do are not righteous
but the battle between my spirit and my flesh is so real.
I say that I am going to change but nothing ever does. I dream to be like that sister in Christ who can lift her hands like nobody is looking. I try to be like them but the guilt just fills my head. I hope to be worthy like he says I am. I am a lukewarm Christian.
Tales Of An Aries by Josh (age 17)
I am silent like the late nights. I am quiet like the black bird in the sky. I speak no words, remaining shy. I am different from the light in the sky. I would rather ride alone, no time for a fight. I am silent within the waves of love and from the spirit of never giving up. I come from the sun, shining bright upon the land, from the grains of sand I hold in my hand. In the mirror, I see the person I want to be. In the mirror, I see the lies they say about me, the pain and the hurt it causes me. I want to be the person I have always wanted to be, someone to be proud of me. In my dreams, I imagine a paradise, a place where I surround myself with my voice and words. In my dreams, I imagine a world of peace, a place where I can be me. The anger I feel
takes over me. The pain from the past haunts me forever. The memories of Sam follow me forever. It was so absurd when I heard that he used a blade to say his words. He was like the breaker of words, always loud everywhere he turned. Now, that fire has burned, died off in a yearn. The happiness has faded. They say, “tell me, tell me the stories of your past, why the pain varies.” So, let me tell you the tale of an Aries.
The Missing Puzzle Piece by Monica (age 17)
She is the result of fatherless love. She carries the daddy issues on her back, shouldering the burden. Her heart is as fragile as glass shattered, leaving her standing on shards of broken promises. In the mirror, she sees a hopeless little girl staring back with tears in her eyes wondering why her puzzle is missing a piece. In her dreams, she sees a loving father tucking her in to sleep. She reaches out to empty arms, leaning in then suddenly falling for any misfit piece that she thinks will one day fill the empty void of the missing puzzle piece.
What Are We Left With by
Reesa Salazar
Franco (age 17)
The crying, the weeping, the wounds, there, deepen, talons in the back, a sacrifice that must be had. Her heart, it screams. Only light seems to leave. The lemons given by life are to be squeezed into her eyes. The smile that was given, taken away, and stuffed in a prison, one where she cannot go unless she reaps what she sews. The bite of cake turns into a bitter wake. The maggots feed off her living flesh until almost nothing is left. The sun was taken, eclipsed and forsaken. But when it is all done and her bearings are gone, her heart still tearing. The numbness is all too caring. What will she be left with, an empty corpse and a cross necklace.
Same Struggle as Us by Rosalyn Gonzales (age 17)
They say, "You do not know where you are going if you do not know where you come from." Resistance runs deep within our blood, yet our people are still stuck in a rut! Our youth are confined within walls that only speak of Lincoln, Jefferson, Washington, and Adams.
You probably never heard of Luis Jr. Martinez, Ricardo Falcon, Florencio Granado, Una Jaakola, Carlos Zapata, and Neva Romero!
Say their names loud, for we should be proud!
They were not just "Mexicans." They were Chicanos who stood in these streets of Aztlan in solidarity with everyone including the Black Panthers, American Indian Movement, and Puerto Ricans! This is ALL of our battle.
I dare to say, quit all the ignorance, stop trying to play oblivious!
A new generation is awake and aware. Now, you will listen to the demands we declare!
Enough of this fake equality, enough of your stereotypical history, enough of you cheating us out of our Indigenous roots, and most of all enough of the lies, spilling from your colonized mouth, that are forced upon our people 9 months out of the year!
Enough!
This is not new to us. They were killing us in the streets just because. We are not asking for much, just the opportunity to be surrounded by people with the same struggle as us.
The Legacy Of My Story by Ugene "Cowboy" MarcialCoenen (age 17)
My father used to tell me these stories, stories of his past, stories that made me think of how cool a life he lived. They constantly made me ponder how time passed so fast. So, I started to think, "What of my own stories? What of my legacy?" I fear that I already lived my story. I hurt people who did and did not deserve it. I helped people in the same manner, but what of me? What am I going to be remembered by? Will I be remembered by my hate, my truth, my mistakes? What will it be with the ones I loved, the ones who detest the taste of my name in their mouths? I wish to inquire: my time, was it well spent? Did I do everything I wanted? Did my curiosity get the better of me? But no, I cannot control what you think of me.
So let me tell you what I want to be remembered by. I want to be remembered by my pen, the tool I used to speak without my mouth, the thing that allowed me to be like God, creating worlds of my own. I am putting love and hate into the creatures. Remember me by my words, the quotes I cited to bring smiles to my audience. Remember me by the stories, stories of how I earned my wisdom, how I put up my fist with a pen in it and a feather sticking out. Remember me by my name. Do not leave it on a stone. Put a quote on it, the quotes of a dreamer because the realistic was always so dull. Remember me for what I stood for, that I had a semicolon on my body because I never quit despite a tongue’s attempt to seduce me into a grave. Remember me by my beloved whom I will see on the other side of paradise sitting next to Chief Joseph, Martin Luther King Jr., and the men who lived, loved, and left a legacy
as beautiful as their souls. Let me sit among them. Let me breathe among them. Let my heart rest knowing what I did despite human flaws. I was made in the image of power. So, until my time is done, I will raise my pen, I will scream with my pen, I will shout from the heavens. I AM A POET.
I AM A POWERFUL POET. I AM STRONGER IN SILENCE THAN EVER BEFORE. I NEED NOT FEAR MY TONGUE. I AM ME.
Just Breathe by Ugene "Cowboy" Marcial-Coenen (age 17)
What can you rely on?
What can you trust, the air that you breathe filled with gas and dust? Ash and hail, it falls constantly, but to breathe is to calm. It is to feed your brain, giving it room to grow, giving it purpose in life. For with every breath comes a life, a moment of peace. Because it is short lived, we crave it even more. We wish a breath would never end. The beauty of a breath, it is amazing, it is real, it is pure. Thank you, breath. Thank you all. Just breathe.
Man’s Curse by Saul R. Chavez (age 18)
Ever since Europeans arrived, way too many people have died. Kinda funny how they believe that they have the most beauty. But in reality, they have brought nothing to this world except death and destruction. I mean, yes, they later brought an industrial age filled with factories and technological advancements. But is that really what the world needs, instead of love and compassion? Sometimes, I just close my eyes and imagine what this world would look like if we never had it. When I open my eyes, what I see is drastic hatred and inequity filling the streets. I look up to God and ask, “What happened?”
The so-called Christians and Catholics ironically have spread the devil’s message, Buddhists and Hindus oppressed, still try to relieve the tension, cleanse your mind, avoid all evil. They try to teach this lesson. As I think too far ahead, I bring it back and ground my thoughts. After the civil war, slaves were “freed” but not so much. We have entered a new age, have not advanced with love,
only with lust. It almost seems like a joke. The dollar reads, “In God We Trust,” but do you really? At night, I pray and ask if he can hear me. What if God is a woman? Will the misogynists care if she is pretty? I have too many questions. My mind is never quiet. Humans are a virus and I really wish I could fight it. America, what a beautiful nation. They tell us to focus on the “truth” but we are surrounded by fiction. After the civil war, the U.S. started the “reconstruction” of a place that since the beginning of time, never needed any fixing. The trauma of our ancestors outweighs materialistic drama. Just imagine Native kids being stripped away from their mommas and the war cries, letting them out when the Chief dies. Gorgeous brown skinned bodies on the floor, the blood puddles are knee high. Now,
Mother Nature hates us, working with Father Time to try to change us. Nature pleads: “Why won't they stop hurting me!? Can’t they clearly see that I'm DYING!? Is my thunder, tears, and destruction
not enough to show that I am CRYING!?
God, please just let me drown them again it is starting to be too much.”
Father Time steps in and says, “Not too fast now, my love.
Will they change their ways any time soon? If they do not, you may kill them all with a monsoon.” She replies, “I do not know how much more I can handle. Humans have evolved to give back less than they can take. They are narcissistic, materialistic, overly obsessed with business, cutting down my lungs to make bills that do not matter and releasing smoke into the air. I try to stop them. but they simply just do not care.”
Nature and Time freeze and they feel a cool holy breeze. They see a bright light and feel the energy of a higher celestial being. They stare patiently and expect words to emerge. But God says nothing and the piercing eeriness of silence only gets worse. It is our curse.
Construyendo el Futuro por Ariana (18 años de edad)
Vengo de un país donde el cielo es gris, donde la comida nos enorgullece, donde los bailes típicos se vuelven pasión, donde se te pinta el pecho de los colores rojo y blanco, llamado Perú.
En el espejo, miro una niña y a la vez alguien grande, que quiere salir al mundo, atrapa con el que dirán, que quiere enorgullecer a sus padres y aprender de sus errores.
En mis sueños, imagino tiempos de mi vida en la que recuerdo momentos, pequeños momentos en los cuales la felicidad me inundó, por que de eso se trata de crear nuestra felicidad.
Juntos podemos definir el futuro basado en nuestros sueños y metas, dejando todo el odio en el pasado y recogiendo pequeños fragmentos de felicidad. Mi mayor tesoro diría yo.
Somos lo que construimos con valores, con dignidad, con empatía. Pero eso nunca termina. A lo largo de la vida, construirnos se vuelve rutina, cambiando constantemente por situaciones que te rompen o te puede construir.
A Flame by Donovan Vigil 2nd (age 18)
I am a self-ignited flame of hope in a dreadful void of darkness. I keep lit under hateful rain. I stay warm in the lonely fog that tries to dim the flame. I come from very loud and quiet days, some were scary and some were birthdays. In the mirror, I see hope and strength with baggy eyes and funny hair. In my dreams, I imagine lighting up this void with gifts of joy and memories with smiles.
Inspiring Heros by Mariela Madera (age 18)
I am a dreamer, yet I will never forget where I come from.
I come from a difficult family where they live in a world where they speak without thinking about what they say. In the mirror, I see goals, happiness, money, and love.
On my shoulders, I keep my loved ones alive and proud.
In my dreams, I imagine moving on from the past and being a new person for the world.
I choose this path to become someone’s hero and inspiration. With our voices, we can change the world and inspire people. In our hands, we have the power to become a hero for others. Together, we can move forward and change people to become better and stronger. We are powerfully gifted, blessed, and loved.
Gran Motivo por Camii Saucedo (19 años de edad)
Soy alguien que le gusta soñar despierto porque sé que habrá un momento donde lo voy a lograr. Yo vengo de la tierra del zacate, de mi lindo Zacatecas, cuna de tradiciones, donde la música llena corazones.
Con mi voz, voy buscando un buen futuro para mi familia. Tengo presente los consejos y la humildad de mis viejos.
En mis manos, tengo la fe y la esperanza.
La familia, para mi, es lo primero.
Humilde siempre fue mi hogar, tengo mucho que agradecer.
Juntos podemos llegar al éxito no importa la edad. Mi gran motivo es mi familia.
