"The Rejection" by Kimberly C

March 28th, 2018 will always mark a turning point in my life, the day I received my Harvard rejection letter. I had been eagerly awaiting this day. As rank one in the senior class, three year varsity volleyball player, member of numerous clubs, and avid volunteer, my friends and family constantly assured me that good news would come to me on March 28th and all my hard work would pay off. They told me that I had done everything right and there was no way Harvard could turn away a student like me. I was so excited and nervous to begin a new chapter in my life, that I could hardly sleep in the months leading up to the decision. However, upon seeing the letter, I found out that the new chapter in my life wouldn’t include attending my dream school.

            My initial reaction was to be disappointed in myself for not being able to be considered an ivy league worthy student. I reread the letter over and over again. I had convinced myself that I read the letter wrong the previous time, and if I kept reading it, the decision would eventually turn into an acceptance letter. It didn’t. I began thinking of every mistake I could have made, the question “why wasn’t I good enough?” lingering in the back of mind. I drove myself crazy looking for every fault I could possibly have that would lead this school to think I wasn’t a great fit. In my mind and my heart I truly believed that Harvard and I were two halves, that, if brought together would create perfect harmony. Obviously, the feeling was not mutual.

            As I began to think more, my sadness grew into anger. I guess I had at least expected a Harvard scale rejection, but my rejection letter looked exactly like a letter from just any college. I felt like I wanted more from them yet all I got was a classic, cold and impersonal letter. It was completely anticlimactic, no huge triumph and no real tragedy (I would still attend a 4-year university), just an empty feeling and dissatisfaction. I became even more upset upon rereading one specific line of the letter. It said, “I hope that receiving our final decision now will be helpful to you as you make your college plans.” This phrase filled me with a rage that could incinerate a forest instantly. In a moment when my dreams had been shattered and my heart felt like it had been torn from my body, this phrase felt like someone poured alcohol into that deep open wound. Harvard’s rejection did NOT make my decision easier, if anything it was harder. I was forced to choose from a few colleges that were not my dream school, which was extremely painful for me to do. I can’t imagine how they could possibly believe that denying me admission would simplify things for me. Initially, I was disappointed in myself but after some thought I was also disappointed in Harvard for not being more considerate. A school of that caliber should at least have the decency to change their rejection letter a little bit to be a bit more sympathetic.

            To get through this, I had to, of course, mourn the loss of my potential future as an ivy league student first. I wouldn’t get the bragging rights and the esteem that came with going to such a prestigious school as Harvard but I also couldn’t dwell in “what could’ve been” for too long. I had to move on with my life. In order to accept this decision, I had to hold on to one of my most treasured beliefs, everything happens for a reason. Some may consider it cheesy or cliche but this phrase will always remain with me. In the grand scheme of my life, I just wasn’t supposed to go to Harvard and I learned that Harvard is just a name. My true worth doesn’t stem from what the board of admissions thinks of me. It comes from my ability to overcome adversity and constantly get stronger with every experience. A piece of paper does not have to define the rest of my adulthood, I have the ability to choose what alternate path I will now take. Harvard will always have a place in my heart as my childhood dream, but I know now that my ability to succeed despite this setback and the accomplishments I make as an adult will say more about me than a Harvard education ever could. I plan to attend Boston University, which is just across the Charles River from Harvard. So Harvard, I guess you haven't seen the last of me quite yet.

"Life" by Marcela M.

            A few months before my (half) sister’s wedding, that took place in February this year, her dad had been diagnosed with cancer. She had waited till she was settled into her career, stable and happy with the right man but wasn’t aware that she’d be worrying about the possibility of her dad not being there to walk her down the aisle. Though feeble, he agreed to do so regardless of how he felt that day knowing he’d be quite tired. The week of my  eighteenth birthday, which was also the weekend prior to her wedding, I had learned my maternal grandfather was diagnosed with Leukemia. The next time I saw him and the probably the last time I’ll see him was the day after the wedding when he had decided to go back home to Arizona for the time being. He was never one to enjoy going out if there was a party nor did he ever say much unless he was complaining but this time that he visited he was different. When he talked, he spoke about how happy he was with his life and talked to me about all that he’s done while prior to his diagnosis he would always made remarks about how much he wanted to die and no longer wanted to be alive (in a jokingly yet somewhat serious manner). At the wedding was the first time I recall ever dancing with him and ever witnessing him dance with a genuinely happy expression. Though he has lived quite a long life, seventy-two years old, he could’ve been a lot happier if he acted as joyful as he was during that week. After seeing the sadness in his eyes and hearing that he wishes for another year, after being told he only has two more months, in order to fix paper work for my grandmother and make she sure is settled back in Mexico with the rest of my family, I learned how quickly life can be taken away. My sister’s dad and my grandfather had not thought about life with a possibly soon expiration date.

            Though they’re older and we are young, we oftentimes find ourselves invincible. We think that an accident could never be us and cannot envision ourselves in the place of someone else who has endured something. Our lives can also be stripped away just as easily. We should live always treasuring the moments we have and spending it with those who we love and love us back. This is quite cliché but live is short and we should take advantage of every opportunity because we just never truly know what lies ahead for each of us.

            With that being said, most of us are going off to college. Some are going much further than others and regardless of the distance, don’t forget about your parents. Try and keep communication with them and anyone else important in your life whether it’s a close friend or other relative. It’s important to keep contact and remind them that you’re thinking of them every so often so one day there are no regrets of wishing you spoke to someone more often or called them just a little bit more. It never hurts to show someone you love them.

"Blank Generation: The Quintessential Album for Nihilists, Poets, and Everything Inbetween" by Joey R

            Foreword: Everyone that knows me personally knows that this is definitely the most influential album to me as a musician, writer, and individual. Granted that the 40th anniversary edition LP came out last November, it’s fitting that someone should bring this album up to speed with the current generation. You may see this piece and feel that the length of it is daunting, so I headed a paragraph in bold if you want to get straight into the album analysis.

From left to right: Bob Quine (guitar), Richard Hell (bass, vocals), Marc Bell aka “Marky Ramone (drums), Ivan Julien (guitar)

            Blank Generation is the debut studio album from the band Richard Hell & The Voidoids in September 1977 under Sire Records. The Voidoids were an offspring of the breeding grounds of the early CBGB club scene in New York. Although they didn’t break through on through to the other side of the mainstream platform like other members of the scene such as Blondie and The Ramones, The Voidoids held more influence on the development of the early punk movement with their sonic attacks, vivid and symbolic poetry, and the look of torn and safety-pinned together clothing Richard so often sported. As underground and subversive as the CBGB musical movement was, Blank Generation is one of the albums from the era that has cemented itself into the lives of the musicians who simply don’t give a damn about sounding perfect, the poets who are compelled to write about the flashing images in their souls, and others who voraciously seek something beneath the surface of what they encounter.

           

Track Listing:

1. “Love Comes In Spurts”
2. “Liars Beware”
3. “New Pleasure”
4. “Betrayal Takes Two”
5. “Down at the Rock and Roll Club”
6. “Who Says? (It’s Good To Be Alive)”
7. “Blank Generation”
8. “Walking On The Water” (Originally by Creedence Clearwater Revival)
9. “The Plan”
10. “Another World”

            Now since this is an assignment for AP English and not an article for Rolling Stone or Creem Magazine, the analysis of this album will focus more on the lyrical content and literary devices present within the songs. I’m refraining from going off on a whole ramble about the free-form style, the peculiar atonal loveliness of Bob Quine’s guitar playing and Richard’s voice but I implore you to listen to this album if you are looking for the refined mess of punk inspired by jazz, garage rock, and more. You won’t regret it.

            The poetic influences on Richard Hell in writing these lyrics are entirely varied throughout genres and generations, but are primarily rooted in the influence of French symbolist poet Arthur Rimbaud . For example, the name “Hell” isn’t there to sound edgier than his actual name Richard Meyers, but is taken from the prose piece “A Season In Hell” (this is one of Rimbaud’s most profound works that touches on existentialist undertones and is highly recommended for all who embrace harsh poetry and philosophy) that is littered with complex diction and syntax to evoke tones of resigned, fatalistic hopelessness. This highly provocative piece is somewhat autobiographical to Rimbaud, a technique that Hell commonly used within his poems and lyrics. It is undeniable that the French symbolist movement of literature is evident in his writing.

           

Now, onto the actual portion where the album is analyzed. For sake of length and your attention, “Love Comes In Spurts”, “Who Says?”, and “Blank Generation” will be discussed in brief.

“Love Comes In Spurts” sets a vulgar and irreverent view onto love that is expressed through sexual interactions. The fourth stanza contains the lines, “I just can’t get wise to those tragical lies. Though I now know the facts, they still cut like an axe,” exclaiming in the fifth that, “Love comes in spurts, in dangerous flirts, and it murders your heart. They didn’t tell you that part, baby.” This harsh tone takes a stance that is unapologetic towards the conventional views of love we all know. The rhyme scheme of the song as a whole is AABB BBCC DDDD EEFF DDGG DDDD EEFF DDGG DDDD DDDD which adds a sense of bounce and motion to the vocal melody. As the opening track to the album, Hell takes a frustrated approach to love and promiscuity, hinting that the society around him confuses one as the other. This frustration about the life around the speaker in these poems becomes further prevalent in the rest of the album in underlying messages.

            “Who Says?” furthers the fatalistic hopelessness of the album through the exclamations of the frustration of existence. The chorus opens with, “Who says it good, good, good, to be alive baby? Same ones who keep it a perpetual jive, baby.” Hell takes a critical stance against the previous and current generation of the time in the post-hippie era that promoted an ideal world despite the obvious faults within the real one. The bleak tone gathered from the lyrics alone coupled with the almost mocking tone in the sung vocals is ironic in a way due to the self-deprecation insisting that happiness is a lie sold by the most effective deceivers. The song furthers some of the sneering mockery and satire that become notable in underground music though the actual instrumental composition itself. Tonally, the song is very bright, upbeat, and “in your face.” The instrumental sections combined with the lyrical content gives off a sense of flippant nihilism that seems to not care that life is falling apart around the speaker. “Who Says?” is the acceptance that life pretty much sucks, but preaching about how good it is is only self-righteous and dishonest.

            “Blank Generation” is the anthem of at-first nonsense that intrigues further analysis to come to the realization of, “Holy f*ck dude, this song slaps musically and poetically.” Instead of flippant indifference to life, “Blank Generation” centers itself in the rampant hopelessness and becomes a fatalistic empowerment of existing despite the nothingness that ensues. The song starts off blaring the unforgettable lines, “I was saying let me out of here before I was even born, it’s such a gamble when you get a face,” letting the listener know immediately that the speaker is deeply rooted in dissatisfaction with its nihilistic tone and exaggeration. The chorus takes the turn of the speaker acknowledging the philosophical predicament they are in but owning it completely. “I belong to the Blank Generation, and I can take it or leave it each time. I belong to the Blank Generation, but I can take it or leave it each time,” speaks of this ambiguous state of being that is left down to choice of how to continue, leaving the song completely open ended to myriad interpretation. “Blank Generation” became an absolute underground hit because it became symbolic to the disenfranchised and disillusioned who felt that they were in a vague state of living in society.

            I could go on forever about this album, (so if you ever talk to me about it, oh boy I hope you’re ready) but for the sake of this essay, I won’t go any further. The poetic elements present in Blank Generation are heavily focused on tone and the scenes and emotions that can be depicted and felt from each of the songs. For poetic analysts, it’s either a gold mine or an absolute nightmare. For people who actually think life is beautifully meaningless, I present you this album. For everybody else, you can take it or leave it each time for all that it’s worth.

           

           

"The Medical Dream Is For Me" by Rachel A

 

I always had the dream of becoming an anesthesiologist ever since I was in middle school and over the summer of 2017 I had a life changing experience that solidified the goals I plan to reach in my life. I attended the National Student Leadership Conference for medicine and healthcare, held at Georgia Tech University, and honestly when I found out my Mom signed me up for this trip I was very annoyed. Of course when the program came to an end it was pretty evident that “mama knows best.” This program made me grow personally because I was exposed to many leadership exercises where I met so many genuine people and made life-long friends. The hands-on activities such as: dissection, suturing, drawing blood, and a variety of medical activities were really cool and gave me an idea of what is to be expected as a doctor. During the conference I participated in lectures with Dr. Richard Marfuggi, a well-known plastic surgeon, and enjoyed field trips to the medical school Emory and the Center for Disease Control and Prevention, which solidified my interest in the medical field . Being a part of this program was an awesome educational experience because despite the challenging manner of the conference I gained a wealth of knowledge about what is expected as a medical expert in the United States and the steps one must take to ensure a successful career in the medical field. This career choice is nothing to play with and requires a lot of motivation, patience, and determination but thankfully I was assured that my pursuit to become an Anesthesiologist is the career choice for me. The idea that we graduate next month is unreal, we are about to begin the rest of our lives and reach unlimited amounts of success. Growing up and joining society as a working adult is quite difficult and intimidating, but with this educational experience I am ready for my future.

"The Sound of Music" by Katarina S

            Dalia Berman is a percussionist in California, who graduated with her bachelors degree in music performance from California State University Northridge and recently received her masters in world percussion from California Institute of the Arts. Berman, along with her musical education, had been heavily involved in the marching arts; being a member of world-class, award-winning ensembles such as Pulse Percussion, Phantom Regiment Drum and Bugle Corps, The Academy Drum and Bugle Corps, and Mandarins Drum and Bugle Corps. Dalia Berman also happens to be Etiwanda High School’s Front Ensemble Caption Head, AKA, my instructor.

            Someone who has spent several years and several thousands of dollars on receiving a formal education in music had to have started somewhere. As a young girl, around the age of two, Dalia was put into piano lessons by her mother. Typically, those who are put into piano lessons by their parents end up not enjoying it or quitting a few years in, but not Dalia. Progressing towards her high school years, she had participated exceedingly in her school’s music program; playing drumset in jazz band, snare and tenor drums in marching band, concert percussion, and had even learned tuba her senior year to play for the freshman class band. Seeing how immersed she was in her own school’s music program, she found that band students today are much more exposed to outside musical experiences as well as that these cohorts of students tend to actively seek out more opportunities available to them than the student’s at her own high school did at the time.

            At the time that Dalia’s senior year arrived, she said, “I didn’t think it was not an option to go to college, my parents always kind of ingrained that. When it was time for me to pick a school or pick my major; I either wanted to do psychology or music, since those are the two things I like most. And I figured psychology didn’t offer any good jobs for me, so I chose music.” A dramatic flair that the movie industry that has influenced those to believe parents of children who choose to go towards the artistic route are conservative and find the arts to be a waste, is normally expected. However, Dalia’s college major choice was simple, as she found herself naturally inclined towards music, and her parents fully supported her in her decision. In fact, her parents still support her decision today, and had bought her a license plate frame that reads “I’d rather be playing tabla.” as a gift. (Sidenote: the tabla is an Indian percussion instrument.)

            Imagining herself twenty-five to thirty years from now, her first thought was, “Oh my god! Dead?!” However, on a more serious note, she sees herself no longer being a music educator, most likely still continue to play with her friends as a hobby. Along with that, Dalia has recently joined the Army Reserves Band and continues to perform with them, and will most likely still be participating in the program in the next few years.

            As a music educator in this age, Dalia finds motivation in students that are beginning to understand what staff says about having the passion and drive to grow more. Additionally, she perceives the most lasting words of advice she’s gained on her journey as a musician was to not be afraid to challenge yourself and take the opportunities that you’d want to take.

            Dalia Berman, in my personal opinion, is a brilliant and talented musician and has the degrees to prove so. Still, she is also ridiculously inspiring, funny, and most importantly - a role model.

" How to Make Croquettes" by Marc B

Ingredients:

3 ½ pounds of beef roast

Water

3-4 bay leaves

Salt

Pepper

1 large onion, sliced and separated into rings

3 ¼ cups of flour

1 pound of margarine

2 ounces of Maggi seasoning

1 large handful of dry Parsley

1-2 dozen eggs, beat 4-5 at a time for dipping the croquettes

1 large box of cornflake crumbs

Foil

oil , for deep frying (peanut oil is best for this recipe but any will do)

Gulden’s Mustard

Directions:

1)    Add first 4 ingredients into a large Dutch oven. Cover with water and boil until roast is done and tender. Keep adding water as needed during the cooking time. The roast should always be covered with boiling water until it is done.

2)    Once the roast is done, remove it from the broth in the Dutch oven. Set the roast aside to cool completely. When the roast the roast is has cooled down, shred it and set it aside.

3)    Scoop the onions and bay leaves out of the Dutch oven. Discard the onions and bay leaves but save the broth and keep it warm on a low fire. You will need it for the croquette “dough”. You may also need to add boiling water to the broth in order to have enough for the dough.

4)    In a large heavy pan (like a cast iron Dutch oven) over a medium fire, melt the 1 pound of margarine and stir constantly until golden brown and then put the fire on low.

5)    Using a wooden spoon to stir, slowly begin adding the 3 ¼ cups of flour, stirring constantly. Keep adding flour until the mixture pulls away from the side of the pan.

6)    Now slowly add the broth by cupfuls and stir it constantly. [ When you have added enough broth, the dough will not stick to your hand.] When the dough is very “shiny” (this should be after adding approximately 4-8 cups of the broth), turn off the fire.

7)    Add the Maggi, the parsley, salt and pepper, and the shredded roast. Mix well until all the ingredients are well dispersed throughout the dough.

8)    Spread 2 large, overlapping sheets of foil on a table or counter. Dump the croquette dough out of the pan in which you blended it and smooth it out over the ¾-1 inch thick. Let the dough cool until it is cold to the touch and lifts easily away from foil when a corner peeled back. The dough should feel slightly greasy to touch, it should NOT stick to the foil nor to your hands.

9)    Clean your hands so you can begin rolling the croquettes. Beat 5-6 eggs in a bowl and in another bowl, pour it half full of cornflake crumbs. Take a pinch of dough that is just slightly smaller than a Twinkie and roll it into a round oblong shape that resembles a fried mozzarella cheese stick.

10)  Once you have finished rolling the croquettes you will 1st dip in cornflake crumbs, 2nd in the beaten eggs, and 3rd again in the corn flake crumbs.
Place croquettes into a foiled lined pan with 2 inch edges and seperate the layers with foil. Keep them refrigerated until ready deep fry and serve. They will last 1-2 weeks in the refrigerator and can also be frozen prior to frying them for long term storage. If they are frozen make sure to thaw the croquettes before frying.

11)  Deep fry them in hot oil until the crust is crispy and a medium golden brown. Drain on paper towels. Serve them hot with Gulden’s mustard, or mustard of your choice.

"Our Future" by Jalynne R

Dear T,

2 years, 7 months, 29 days and counting that I have spent with you being a part of my life (as my boyfriend.) Who knew that us being “just friends” would eventually lead to me being with my High school sweetheart. It’s been so easy for us, always seeing each other at school, having the same lunch for 4 years, almost being in all of the same classes and always hanging out on the weekends. Our senior year is almost over with only 6 weeks left. Everything that we have become so familiar with is about to end and everything with us is about change. You are the type of person that goes with the flow of everything, you always tell me, “We will worry about things when we get there,” but I am COMPLETELY opposite of you. I need to have a plan and be in control of it or else I can't function. It's difficult for me to sit back and let the world do its thing while I have to wait patiently. However, this bump in the road we are about to face isn't the type of thing that I am able to have a plan for. You and me are going to different colleges, we will be starting our careers pretty shortly, you have a job that takes up most of your time now and in two short years, I will be studying abroad. I know deep down that we both want the same end results, to be together, but that is difficult to do when we have such different paths ahead of us plus many challenges awaiting us too.  I will admit, I used to be afraid that we would be torn apart against our wishes to be together but you and me have an unconditional type of love that can’t be taken away. We have something special, something important and I will continue to be endlessly fortunate for you. You have taught me so much during this relationship of ours, stuff that no one else could have ever taught me. You showed me that love is deeper than just three words, that love requires constant effort, commitment, and emotion. You taught me that it’s okay to have disagreements because not everybody is perfect and as long as at the end of the day we still remember we have love for one another, we will be okay. You've shown me that even when i’m being petty and annoying, that you will be patient with me and reassure me that you aren't going anywhere. The vibe we have when we are together brings me the most joy that I could possibly imagine, a vibe and energy that I can feel in my soul. You have proved to me that love at first sight does actually exist and that it is absolutely possible to find love at such a young age. Your embrace is so welcoming. You make me feel safe, you make me feel alive and the most important thing of it all… you make me feel at home. So my love, even though these years to come will be the ultimate test for us, I know we can do this and I know without a doubt in my mind that we are going to do well. We are both determined and very strong-minded individuals, we have our eyes set on something wonderful, something special together. Regardless of how hard or impossible things may seem,, they won't be because I’ve got you, and you’ve got me. You and me together, we will forget what we have been told and we will take on the whole world together, hand in hand. Always remember that the bible says love will always last, and with you, I am absolutely sure of that.                                                   

"The Night in the Forest" by Jullian R

     In the countryside, where the smallest of towns are hidden, and where nature is embedded into the cloth, that are those tiny towns. There lay a lonely home, no neighbors found but an enchanting forest. In that home a child rests by his open window, gazing up at the night sky waiting for the sounds of the forest to tell him a story of true magnificence, that would allow his little head to lay and fall into a deep sleep. As was every night before, the forest outside the child’s window would speak telling him stories as he would sleep, however on this night the forest was silent. The child restless and unable to slumber, decided that if he could reach closer to the forest that maybe the story he seeked would be told and he could return to bed to sleep once again. So his journey began, as he left his house to go request the forest for a story he desired for his slumber. The stars were even brighter as he began his trek, night had fell onto the child, but the sky was the deepest blue and gave the child comfort as his undersized legs carried him along on his adventure. Eventually, he reached the outside of the forest where the densest of trees stand, almost as a barrier to all the mystic phenomena that occur behind those trunks. As he arrived looking up to the trees, the silence that fills the cool mountain air is deafening. Soon almost like a cat sneaking up on a mouse, a breeze picks up and the child looks up in utter disbelief, As he felt the wind picking up around him and the trees start swaying back and forth as if they were dancing, it was an invitation for the young child into the joyous occasion. So he did, the leaves off the ground began to circulate around the boy and lead him into the forest. It was apparent then, that the trees began to sing to the child, a song of softness and comfort as he enters the forest to delve deeper for his search of his story that he would enjoy at the side of his bed. The child has finally entered into the forest, the trees begin to quiet down, and the sounds of a creek begin to occupy the little child’s ears. As he breathes out, his breathe is caught in the cool winter air, as if it had belonged to the night sky. The trees began to speak again, though not of a story, but of directions to follow the sounds of the creek. So the journey continued, the child began to to follow the ever growing sounds of the stream of water. The sounds grew and grew, almost as if the child became apart of the stream itself. Following along the stream, the child sees fireflies hastily flying after one another as if they were after something too. Soon the whole forest around him was lit up by these small insects. The boy thought to himself, and felt as if the night sky itself fell upon him on this walk to wherever the creek would lead him. The fireflies finally dispersed, falling into the night sky, but not before the young child had reached the end of the creek. In his astonishment he had found that it lead to a waterfall, and the moon sat comfortably above the seemingly abundant source of water, while the water lit up by each star in the sky glistened and flowed it’s way to the child’s hands. Rocks that seemed to be carved out by those of the renaissance age, seemed to hold this waterfall together. The child began to run up and down following the water as they were playing a game of tag, one trying to outrun the other. The child ran as if the night had no end and the sky would stay a deep blue forever. Finally after some time had past, the child heard something rattle near a bush. Startled the child immediately began to retract back into the forest. As he stepped slowly it had a appeared, a lowly deer searching for its food. A smile wider than a mile appeared onto the child’s face, as the deer noticed the child the two made eye contact for what had seemed forever. Eventually the deer drew back, into the forest. At that time, the child finally realized it was time for him to head back. Following the creek back, the trees began to hum a song to the child. As the song grew in loudness, so did the child’s urgency for sleep. He eventually reaches the edge of the forest back to his home, where his journey started. The trees began to take their place back, slowly beginning to stop swinging and humming. The trees stopped, but the child gazed one last time in utter amazement. The short walk finally ends, as he reaches his window and climbs back into his room where his bed lay. As the child begins to lay his head, he decides to look out at the forest one more time. There he sees the deer from earlier, with a small pause he give the dear a slight nod and a smile. From there, the deer begins to turn back as he slowly trots back to the forest as the trees begin swinging again in a jolly manner. The young child then lays his head to rest for the night safely in his bed, he realizes the forest did indeed grant him a story. A story only found in the countryside, where the smallest of towns are hidden, and where nature is embedded into the cloth of this tiny town. Satisfied, he shuts his little eyes as the he slowly falls into sleep, goodnight.

"The Race" by Alejandro Q

It was a hot noon at Central Park, the easy ups were pitched in the grass and along the small spaces of shade that existed. We all waited anxiously for our turns to go up to the line, to prove ourselves for the last time. My heart was pounding like a drum in  my chest. My mouth was as dry as the desert. The hot summer sun beat down on my shoulders. I stood waiting, readying myself for the signal from my coach. The team and I had warmed up earlier, I had felt shaky the entire time. We were called up to the start line, we said a prayer hoping for everyone’s success we got in line, tense, silent, I looked over briefly at the other schools, but I knew better, my only competition was myself, to not give up or give in to the nagging in my head that was sure to come in the following minutes.

“BANG” the racing gun shot out. I took off sprinting down the hard dirt trail. My legs and arms were pumping in rhythm, “left right left right left right” I mentally told myself. I came around the first mile the clock read 6:15, seeing my teammates paces in front and behind me, we ran as a pack, we wanted to the whole race, but not all of us could keep the pace up. First it was John, then Bob, and then I fell behind, I couldn’t keep up the breakneck pace. “Not fast enough,” I muttered to myself, speeding up, signaling to my teammates behind me to keep pace with me, to try to stick together, pushing ourselves to not fall behind any further. I saw other racers pass us, one by one, we tried to stay with them, and managed to pass a few, but our  energy was fading fast. The two mile mark was nearing, 12: 45. We were invigorated by our falling time, we began sprinting trying desperately to catch up to the group ahead, but our limbs were too tired and our breaths too ragged. We set our sights on the the finish line, a few minutes, seconds away, I was falling behind, my teammates urged and pushed me to keep the pace, “just a little longer” they promised. John pointed a few yards ahead of him, a pair of runners, “we can’t let them beat us.”  With one last burst of effort and determination we ran to catch up, John passed me on the last little hill, he beat the pair, Bob and myself managed to pass one on the final sprint to the finish line. 19:02, 5 seconds from a personal record, minutes away from contributing to the team placement, but it was over and we had run our hardest.

My heart hammered in my chest, my lungs sucked in the dry air of the day, hurting with every breath. I felt like throwing up, I walked with slow and deliberate steps focusing on not moving to violently, I needed water and shade, my shirt clung to me from sweat and my knees buckled with my steps and my legs shook when I stood still. I felt someone clap me on the back, I accepted a water bottle from a blur and sat down, I waited and drank slowly, we still had a cool down lap to run. Countless hours of practice, before school, after school, during the summer had all amounted to today. Invitational and league races had prepared us for the pressure of the race. Teammates had encouraged us, laughed with us, trained with us. Coach had talked to us, yelled at us, encouraged us, unified us. We had become a family.

This race had been my first league final in cross country, and sadly my last because I joined cross country in my senior year. I had originally joined the summer training to be with friends and find a way to get in better shape, but I grew to enjoy running greatly. It gave me a way to connect with my dad, he participates in a yearly relay race at work, and I made new friends. Running also was an escape from stress, I could run and not focus on anything but my breathing and the floor ahead of me. Even on the worse running days the training wore me out enough so I would be able to come and fall into effortless sleep. My time of the team showed me what it truly means to be committed to something, and also gave me perspective and a newfound respect for the student athlete, especially the runners, who day in and day out, rain or sunshine (or in our climate, wind), would show up to run and loved every second. It was truly a privilege being able to be part of the team and I really missed out my other years of high school.

"How to Paint Light" by Justin Q.

Being a photographer for about almost 6 years has taught me some interesting photography tips and tricks. With that being said I believe it is now time to teach some of you a very cool and simple thing called “Light Painting”.  Light Painting is a type of photography where in the picture being taken you illuminate a object with a light and the final result is a sweet looking picture with only that single object being lit up and everything else in the background isn’t.

What you will need is:

●      A DSLR Camera 

●      Tripod

●      LED Bar

            - Optional: A cover of some sorts for the LED Bar (In my case I use a Nike Gym Sack)

●      The object you want to light paint

●      Time

Direction to set up your camera settings:

●      Step 1: Turn on your camera

●      Step 2: Turn you ISO all the way down to the lowest # (Mine being 50)

-       Your ISO is basically your exposure, The lower your ISO is the less grain your picture has and the higher the ISO, the more grain your picture will have.

●      Step 3: Set your F/ (Your aperture) to again the lowest it can go (Mine being F/1.4)

-       Your F/ (F Stop) which is your aperture is the control to how much light you are letting in through the lens. The lower your F/ is, the more light your are letting in and vise versa with the higher your F/ is,the less light you are letting in.

●      Step 4: Set your shutter speed to ~20 or 25 or 30 seconds

-       Your shutter speed is how fast or how long you take a picture for, both your aperture and shutter speed control how much light you let in. Faster shutter speed = Less Light / Slower shutter speed = More light.

●      Step 5: Set your camera to manual focus (Switch will be either on your lens or your camera)

-       You want to use manual focus for light painting because autofocus won't be able to focus on the subject due to it being night time and dark.

Now that you have your camera setup, lets get into the actual light painting part.

Directions for painting:

●      Step 1: Get your camera on the tripod

●      Step 2: Setup your object or subject you want to light paint

●      Step 3: Make sure your subject is infocus, you don't want a blurry picture

●      Step 4: Turn on your LED Bar (make sure the light isn’t pointed at the subject / object yet)

●      Step 5: Whenever you're ready click down on your shutter button to start taking the picture

-       Note: you only have that certain amount of time you set to paint the subject.

●      Step 6: With the LED Bar go to the subject and slowly sweeping over or across the object once or twice with the light emitting from the LED Bar.

-       Note: If your picture ends up with streaks from the LED Bar use a cover to prevent that from happening.

●      Step 7: After going over the subject with the LED bar turn it off and run out of frame and wait till the long exposure finishes.

Example of finished product: 

And with step #7 being the last step, your picture should of came out nice and crispy if you did everything correctly. If you don’t get it right the first time try, try, and try again until you get the perfect picture. Have fun out there at night light painting things!