The Meadow
John Tucker, 6th Grade
The meadow is calm
The meadow is relaxing
The meadow brings peace
~Sahus Bhandary, 6th Grade
A Woodland Middle School Publication
Board of Education
Joseph Parisi, President
Marcee Rubinstein, Vice President
Joseph Danenza
Scott Eckers
Brian O’Flaherty
Jeffrey Rosenking
Melissa Tell
Administration
Leon J. Campo, Superintendent of Schools
Anthony Russo, Assistant Superintendent for Personnel and Administration
Cindy Munter, Assistant Superintendent for Curriculum and Instruction
Mary Ann O’Brien, Assistant Superintendent for Business and Finance
Patrick Pizzo, Assistant to the Superintendent for Administration and Special Projects
Woodland Middle School Administration
Jim Lethbridge, Principal
Christina Egan, Assistant Principal, House I
Patricia Graham, Assistant Principal, House II
Terrence Chase, Dean of Students
2
The Meadow
The Journal of the
Woodland Middle School Literary Club
Mrs. Caterina Largana & Mrs. Ellen Ruoff, Literary Advisors
Contributing Writers & Artists
Kelly Aguilar ‘16
Priyanka Amin ‘16
Samantha Beltran ‘18
Sahus Bhandary ‘18
Brianna Bourne ‘16
Megan Carroll ‘17
Jennifer Chan ‘18
Olivia Curet ‘16
Marabelle DeLaurentis ‘16
Lizzie DeRiggi ‘18
Alyssa Fong ‘16
Erin Hart ‘16
Michael Howery ‘18
Chris Ignatiou ‘18
Ali Jacksi ‘17
Dua Jafri ‘17
Sachin Jojode ‘18
Mike Kulikowski ‘17
Hayden Maitra ‘17
Myla Mcleod ‘17
Madison Muggeo ‘16
Tushar Nazmul ‘18
Allison Obiem ‘16
Elizabeth Ohw ‘16
Janki Patel ‘18
Shivani Patel ‘16
Anjali Ramsaroop ‘18
Crystal Richardson ‘17
Lindsay Segal ‘17
Ryan Skoros ‘17
John Tucker ‘18
Yana Vilchynskaya ‘17
Kaylee Wicks ‘16
Nicholas Xhindolli ‘18
We would also like to thank Mrs. Back, Ms. Cassard and Mrs. Purdy for their contributions.
Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt,
and poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen.
~Leonardo da Vinci
3
Broken
What lies beneath the surface
when you look, all you see is a smile.
All you see is a happy teen.
But what lies beneath the surface
Beneath the surface lies scars.
Scars of a person looking for an escape.
Scars of a person who has tried to find peace.
What lies beneath the surface are tears.
Tears of a person who has cried herself to sleep.
Tears of a person who has been rejected.
Beneath the surface lies a heart.
A heart that has been
broken,
beaten,
damaged,
walked on
and thrown to the side.
A heart that has been forgotten.
You will never know what lies beneath the surface.
Smiles are easy to fake.
But beneath them there is
pain,
hurt,
scars,
tears,
broken hearts
and tortured souls.
Souls so terrifying they have become black.
That smile is fake, but the pain is real.
Smiles are just as easy to fake as anything else.
These are the things that lie beneath the surface.
They are the things that the rest of the world doesn’t see.
Next time you see someone
Try and figure out the things that
Lie beneath her surface.
~Allison Obiem, 8th Grade
~Sachin Jojode, 6th Grade
You’re a Star
For a star to be born
There is one thing that must happen.
A gaseous nebula must collapse.
So collapse.
Crumble.
This is not your destruction.
This is your birth.
~Erin Hart, 8th Grade
4
Summertime
Summer is a time to relax and have fun,
adventures begin under the sun.
Children are cheering, playing and
expressing their excitement.
They jump in the pool,
avoiding the scorching heat by staying cool.
As the summer winds down,
they think about one last time to hang around.
Jennifer Chan, 6th Grade
~Janki Patel, 6th Grade
Love
Lost in time
Over the years
Very sad when it
Ends so soon.
Claustrophobia
Restrained! Trapped! Stuck! Confined!
Some of the few words that are on my mind.
Tight! Scary! Help Me! Fear!
-Lizzie DeRiggi, 6th Grade
Some of the things going through my ears.
Regret! Sadness! Anxiety!
Only when I’m in a tight space I see.
Getting out of here is best in my belief.
~Crystal Richardson. 7th Grade
5
Imagine you were a Munchkin. What would your
story be?
My Sweet Life
by Olivia Curet, 8th Grade
I don’t remember when I was made. My mother says that I was the most beautiful Munchkin in the
oven. Sometimes I feel upset that I am just a Munchkin and not a big, round doughnut like my mom.
Her name is Boston Crème. She was lucky because my grandparents decided to make her even more
special and gave her sprinkles! I get jealous of her because I am just a plain old Munchkin filled with
jelly. At first it made me happy to think I was filled with something so sweet until I was put on the
shelf. It turns out nobody likes jelly!
I asked my mother why she hasn’t been chosen yet and she said she will never leave my side. One day
little girl walked into Dunkin’ Donuts and wanted to buy some Munchkins. She chose a chocolate, a
sprinkled and ME!!! SOMEBODY FINALLY CHOSE ME, A JELLY MUNCHKIN!!
I was so happy until I looked at my mom. She told me that she would never leave my side, well now
I’m leaving her. All of a sudden I wished that I hadn’t been chosen even though I have been dreaming
of this day my whole life. The man at the counter picks me up and puts me into a bag. I am screaming
in protest. He asks the little girl’s mom, “Anything else?” She replied, “I’ll also have the Boston Crème
with sprinkles.” THAT’S MY MOM! I still get to be with my mother!!! Out of all the doughnuts in the
store the little girl and her mom chose us both! Life is really sweet!
The Life of a Munchkin
by Brianna Bourne, 8th Grade
Nothing. That’s all we have been since we were created. Just a little piece of unused dough
that always got thrown away. Never good enough; left for stray dogs to sniff out of garbage
pails — if we even got that lucky. Most of us are left to rot, never seeing light. Forced to live
and have nothing happen, until we become one with the earth. It was our sad fate of darkness until someone gave us light. And someone did. Suddenly, we weren’t being thrown
away like scraps, but used. We were decorated, frosted and filled with delicious jelly and
cream! And best of all sold! We were sold to people! They actually enjoyed us! We no longer
have to live the long, dark fate of our ancestors but a new one! A creamy, delicious fate. And
best of all, today’s my turn! Today's the day I live my ancestor’s dreams. To be eaten, to be
loved! Today, I'm being sold!
6
Mr. Doughnut
The Box
by Nicholas Xhindolli, 6th Grade
by Anjali Ramsaroop, 6th grade
My name is Mr. Doughnut. I am a
chocolate doughnut. I don’t want to brag, but I
am the most popular doughnut and I have many
friends. Some are glazed, jelly or powdered.
One day my friends and I were playing
when we heard someone say, “I want that one!”
It wasn’t my friend talking. It was a HUMAN!!
Everybody started screaming. It was total chaos.
We were put into a cramped box. The next thing
I heard was a car engine revving. We didn’t know
what was happening, but we figured it was bad.
Then we were placed on a kitchen table.
The humans opened the box and started to
choose their doughnuts. We were terrified! It was
hard to watch them eat my friends. Just when
thought I was safe, a hairy hand reached in and
picked me up. I said a prayer. Then BOOM! I was
dropped to the floor. Covered with dog hair and
dust, I survived being mashed to pieces! I was
about to be thrown into the …
Dark, sweet and warm. I am in a room filled with others
of my kind. I am a Munchkin.
I was made by a kind man who deeply cared for his
Munchkins and doughnuts. I usually enjoy being in this
dark, sweet and warm place, but I knew not of where I
was going. Like the night, it is dark. Like candy, it is sweet.
Like a cozy fireplace, it is warm.
My friend told me that this was what Man called a “box.”
How to get out of the box? I was stumped. Not an actual
stump of a tree, just ... you know stumped, confused.
Light
One day, just as I woke from a canyon-deep sleep, I
opened my eyes to a light as bright as the white powder
they use to dust the doughnuts. The box had magically
opened itself! I did not have any shimmering coating or
dancing sprinkles like the other Munchkins and doughnuts, for I had seen my reflection in the Man’s sunglasses.
Nor was I squishy. I was just … well, plain. But somehow
today I felt different. I felt like I could be anything.
“WAKE UP!!” I jumped, startled. “Wh… What?”
I asked. “You were sleeping!” my friend said.
“You missed the party. You said you were tired
and going to take a nap. You were sound asleep
and I couldn’t wake you.” I was disappointed I
missed the party but relieved I wasn’t
somebody’s dessert. From now on I will go to bed
early without eating a doughnut so I don’t have
crazy dreams.
Fill
Today I would get decorated just like everyone else!
They’ve told me stories about how scary it is at first, but
when you get dipped into the icing a second time it feels
… soothing. I got to experience this myself and I think
they exaggerated a little bit. I liked getting all dressed up,
but it was a lot of work.
Later that day …
I am put on display. The bright lights of the store …., I am
nervous! I am excited! A nice-looking family chose me
and several of my friends. I was bursting with pride. Little
did I know they were going to eat me!
Danger
When my time came, I was ground into a mushy paste
and plummeted to my death along with a cold-white liquid. Goodbye, cruel world.
John Tucker, 6th grade
7
All in Day’s a Work
by Marabelle DeLaurentis, 8th Grade
Darkness. That’s all I see. The soft, squishy skin of the
others. That’s all I feel. Sweetness. That’s all I smell.
I know where I am. We all do. One might think we
would be scared, but in reality we aren’t. We have been
prepared for this. I have been prepared for this. It started when I was just a little
piece of squishy, fluffy stuff. Then I got a shape. A perfectly round ball. Sadly, I left
my friends. We went separate ways. I got a new wardrobe. A nice sweet clear coat.
I felt alive.
I was then put into a temporary house with others just like me. They became
my new family. They taught me all I needed to know. Hours went by and some of my
family left, but in return new ones come. I remember being in their position. I feel so
old.
Then as I was about to lose faith, I saw a gigantic object coming toward me. It
had the same golden color as me, but it wasn’t round. It had five sticks coming out of
it. Rather abruptly, it picked me up. I felt as if I were flying. My family in my house
said goodbye. I knew what was coming. I was placed in a new home.
That’s where I am now. In the darkness. Except now we are moving. Everyone
is shaken up and are yelling at each other. I have pieces of others’ clothing on me and
some of mine have rubbed off on them. Powder got mad about that, but I am fine.
It was then everything changed. We stopped.
Light. That’s all I see. I was momentarily blinded. The piercing feeling of one of
these five-pronged objects poking my skin. That’s all I felt. Air. That’s all I smell. No
sweetness. I knew this is where it happens. This is where I do what I am meant to do.
What I have been trained for. I do my job as a Munchkin.
What’s your favorite Munchkin?
8
Syncopate
The clock on the wall ticks.
The bell of the school rings.
The whistle of the train blows.
The endless pattern
of life.
Our everyday lives revolve
around the metronome
known as life.
Fake
Schedules
Punctuality
Neatness
Stereotypes
Groups
All express
the uniform needs
of society.
Big smiles, no denial
Sisterhood we always would
Share lies amongst our hive
Deep inside we never hide.
Constant judge, I hold a grudge
Not so kind, they closed my mind.
Try a dress and just impress
I hate this me, just help me please.
Daily we play
perfectly in time
with the unwavering beat
and do not stray from the path.
Society
may want you
to stay on beat
but you should syncopate
your rhythm.
Syncopate
the rhythm of your life
to make it unique.
Syncopate
the rhythm of your life
to make it yours.
Or
you may as well be
the ticking clock
the ringing bell
the sounding whistle
that align perfectly
with the metronome
without a thought
or a care
in the world.
-Alyssa Fong, 8th Grade
They don’t care, they only glare.
Drawn smiles, cried for miles.
My looks they laugh, one more half
Secrets they share, just not fair.
I’m crying inside, please hide,
I turn for hope, they won’t cope.
They all leave before I’m at ease,
I’m all alone, where’s the phone?
Be
Fierce
Lazy
Enthusiastic
Silly
Realistic
Unique
Outgoing
Be
YOURSELF
No smiles, pure denial
Sisterhood, it never stood.
Sharing lies is just their crime,
Deep inside I will always hide.
~ Kelly Aguilar, 8th Grade
~Marabelle DeLaurentis, 8th Grade
9
The Luckiest Man Alive
by Olivia Curet, 8th Grade
Gregory Andersen is about to turn forty years old. Instead of being excited about hitting
the big “4-0” he was rather depressed. Greg lived in a small apartment and had a boring job that
earned him just enough money to pay his bills. Greg had realized that his dream of having
enough money so he could spend it on whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted was just a
fantasy. What Greg Andersen didn't realize was that his boring life was about to change.
On the evening of Greg’s birthday his brother Steven decided to treat him to
dinner. After they finished eating, Steven brought out a cupcake with a candle in the middle.
He said, “Happy Birthday, Greg. Make a wish.” Greg was taken by surprise. Of course his wish
wasn’t going to come true, but it should still be a decent one, shouldn’t it? Greg closed his eyes
and thought to himself, I wish to be the luckiest man alive.
The next day Greg, who had forgotten about his wish, woke up and went about his normal
routine. He methodically ate his breakfast and put on his coat. He had to run out of his apartment
building to catch the bus, which would be arriving any minute! He looked down at his watch
which said 8:07 am. Greg knew without a doubt that he had missed the 8:05 bus. He slowly
walked to the bus stop and sat worrying on the bench. He let out a sigh. He was going to be late
and Mr. Smitty, Greg’s boss, was going to have a fit. All of a sudden, Greg heard a loud “HONK!”
He looked up and saw a taxi parked right in front of him. The driver lowered the window and
shouted, “Hey you! Call for a cab? It’s already paid for!” Greg was absolutely surprised. Who had
called him a cab and paid for his ride? Greg hopped right in.
When Greg got home from his average day at work, he checked his mail. There was a letter
from his mother. It was a birthday card with a scratch-off game card in it. Of course. The same
thing every year. He plopped down on his couch, pulled out a penny from his pocket and started
to scratch away at the card. He had won a hundred dollars! He couldn’t believe it! He checked the
card repeatedly. Greg had never won a scratch off in his life! Even though it wasn’t a lot of money,
it was still something. He went to the nearest 7-Eleven and collected his winnings. Greg decided
that he was going to try his new-found luck at gambling with his earnings. He strutted into the
casino with confidence and sat down at a slot machine. He put in a quarter and pulled the lever...
JACKPOT!!!!!
10
An hour later, Greg found himself sitting in the casino’s cafe with his pockets full of
cash. For the first time in his life, he felt important. He had realized that his birthday wish had
come true! Greg Andersen: the luckiest man alive. Greg's life isn't over, it had just begun. He had
money and could do whatever he wanted. The next day he quit his mundane job and went to
the mall to buy a new suit. After all, he needs to make a good impression once he wins his
millions. The casino was as busy as ever. Greg was on a hot streak. So hot that people started
to question Greg's luck. Many of them were accusing him of cheating! He decided there was
no reason to hide the truth and he told everybody about his wish. Within an hour Greg had
become famous. The Luckiest Man Alive: Greg Andersen. It was all over social media. Greg had
everything he wanted.
Later that night, Greg became quite bored. He had made a lot of money of course, but
not nearly as much as he wanted. He was well-known now so nobody wanted to risk playing a
game of poker against Greg. "Come on don't be shy!" he shouted to the crowd around him.
"Play a game or two!" Nobody moved. Greg knew he had made the mistake of letting
everybody know about his luck. Then a fragile man slowly walked into the room. He took the
empty seat across from Greg. The crowd gasped. The stranger had very pale, transparent skin,
almost ghost-like. Greg believed the man to be ill and needed to play for money to pay for
medical expenses. He felt bad for the old fellow. "Look buddy, you don't look so good. I have
been known to have very good luck tonight and I don't want to do you any harm. If you need
money, I would be more than happy to lend you some." The man responded, "Thank you, but
I don't need money. I would just like to play some poker if that's alright with you." Greg
nodded his head and the card dealer dealt the cards.
Greg decided this was the last game that he would play, so he anted up and put every
single penny he owned on the table. He thought after he won, he would give the poor guy
sitting in front of him some cash to help him out. Greg confidently glanced at his cards. Three
aces. He was sure to clean this guy out. Greg flipped over his cards. The crowd applauded and
looked to the other man. He seemed unsure of the cards in his shaking hands. He sighed and
said, "Seems like your luck has run out." The old man flipped over his cards. Four kings!
"That's impossible!" Greg yelled. The crowd started to go wild. They screamed, "You cheated!"
The man sitting in front of Greg shook his head and said, "I don't cheat. You can check me for
extra cards or even look at the surveillance footage. You will find nothing." Greg was furious.
This man had just taken all of his money and dreams. "How did you do that? I am the luckiest
man alive! There is no way that you could have beaten me!"
The man laughed. "You are the luckiest man alive, but who said I was alive?"
11
Babum. Babum.
The beat of our hearts.
The schedules we live by.
The clock’s ticking.
The uniformity of life.
Michael Howery, 6th Grade
Organized.
Consistent.
Steady.
We follow the beat
of the things we call life.
Mostly without question.
-Alyssa Fong, 8th Grade
Dance
Discipline, control
Hard-working, practicing, sweating
Expressing oneself, moping around
Resting, procrastinating, slacking
Inattentive, dull
Laziness
-Olivia Curet, 8th grade
12
Hayden Maitra, 7th Grade
Election 2016
I am a Republican!
I am a Democrat!
Vote for me for President!!
No! Vote for me!!
I know more than you!!!
I have better solutions!!!!
Shush, be quiet!!!!
Don’t shush me!!!!!
(Both parties arguing, not listening,
not resolving problems)
I will make this country great again!!!
What’s wrong with this country today?
(Sigh. No solutions, just arguing.
American people are desperate for a good candidate.)
~Sachin Jojode, 6th Grade
~Marabelle DeLaurentis, 8th Grade
13
The Triangle Shirtwaist Company Factory in New York City burned to the ground on
March 25, 1911. It is one of the most tragic incidents in America’s industrial history.
Neglected safety issues, such as locked doors, and management’s lack of responsibility, led
to the deaths of 146 textile workers. Although devastating, this tragedy brought attention to
the dangerous working conditions factory employees endured. Shortly after the fire, laws were
passed that protected the safety of workers.
On the following pages, seventh-grade students remember those workers who perished on that
fateful day more than a century ago. They also acknowledge the struggles of the textile workers
in Lowell, Massachusetts , of which they read about in the novel Lyddie by Katherine Paterson.
A memorial is being planned for the site of this tragedy. For more information you may visit the
Woodland Library or go to www.pbs.org.
14
Work
The shirt I’ve sewn
The shirt I’ve made
For you to own
And me to create.
I put my sweat and tears
Into the stitches
Because of my fears
Of drastic switches.
My job is hard.
My job is tough.
I always come home into the dark,
But the money is never enough.
Should They Say Something?
13-hour day, low pay, dust in their lungs.
No breaks.
If they don’t say something,
they will suffer.
I cry my tears.
I sweat my pain.
For my fears
Will always come back again.
But if they do, there may be
consequences.
They wonder.
Should they say something?
The next day
I come to work.
Then I see the bright red flame.
Growing bigger and bigger in the corner of a nook.
A fire started.
They were not warned.
They tried to leave,
But no doors were unlocked.
I become scared.
It’s hard to breath.
This is what I feared.
Is this the day I’ll drop to my knees?
Many fled to the windows.
Jumping, trying to
Survive the fall.
Many dead.
Should they do something?
Will I make it?
Will I live?
The room is lit.
The elevator I will miss.
I step to the window.
Not caring for more.
I won’t be a widow
And I won’t work no more.
Something had to be done.
People should not die like this.
Only after fire laws were made.
But was it worth all of them dying?
Or should they have said something?
~ Myla McLeod, 7th Grade
I think as I turn my back
And let the air carry me
To a sudden death.
Now I am free.
~Yana Vilchynskaya. 7th Grade
15
Words of Those Who Remember
Working, protest
looms, sound, air
fire, death.
Words of those
who remember.
Working.
Wages so low they want
to protest.
Protest.
Better working
conditions is all they wanted
and yet this factory
went down in flames
taking 145 women with it.
Looms.
Looms so loud and
dangerous.
Sound.
Sound so loud you can’t
hear yourself think.
Air.
Air so dusty spreading
disease.
Fire.
Fire started by a cigar
in this factory.
Death.
Credit: “Girls Wanted” by Henry Glintenkamp. Library of Congress
Three women standing across sthe treet from the burned-out shell of a
building from which hangs the sign, "Girls wanted." A policeman
stands guard in front of the ruins.
Death is a sign that
all good things,
all good people
come to an
end.
Words of those who remember.
Working, protest, looms,
sound, air, fire, death.
~Ali Jacksi, 7th Grade
16
The Mill Girls
Lowell, Massachusetts
1840s
Girls work endlessly at the loom
Day after day, no time to stop
Noisy and dirty
Loom after loom
Girls working hard
Bobbin after bobbin
Don’t let the warp thread break
Then they don’t get paid
Open the window, get some fresh air
Print out some pages to read
Then get back to work
The overseers always watching
Break at 7:00 back at 7:35
Dawn till dusk, 6 days a week
Credit: http://lowellmillgirls1.weebly.com/
The Fire
Strikes, Protest.
None of that mattered.
It took 146 deaths
To open up the peoples’ eyes.
Kiss of death
Weaver’s knot
Pull the lever
Change the bobbin
All day! Every day!
Working 13 hours a day
But it still wasn’t enough
To fill the owner’s greed.
No breaks, no leaving, no escapes.
No time to pause
No time to break
When they heard of the fire,
The owners escaped.
Leaving the girls
To burn to death.
They will make them work until
they faint.
~Ryan Skoros, 7th Grade
The fire, starting with just a cigarette,
Left unnoticed until too late.
No hydrants, no way out.
Just the screams of girls who’ll never see the sun again.
Did they deserve this fate?
No, never.
If only it had not taken
146 deaths to open up people’s eyes.
~Dua Jafri, 7th Grade
17
Drip drop, drip drop
The rains splatters on my skin,
on my face, on my hands.
Drip drop, drip drop
The smell of the grass and rain mix
The sky dark grey.
Drip drop, drip drop
One might say it is a horrible day.
But to my eyes it is rather quite beautiful.
Drip drop, drip drop
Its pattern,
one after another.
Drip drop, drip drop
I don’t really understand how anyone can see anything less than beautiful
As the thunder roars and the lightning lights up the sky.
Drip drop, drip drop
It’s almost as sweet as the sound of music
It makes you want to dance and never stop.
Drip drop, drip drop
It’s sad to think that it will be over soon
That this beautiful scene with say goodbye for a while.
Drip drop, drip drop
It will slow to a drizzle, only left in its place are puddles
And you know you’ll have to wait awhile to hear that next
Drip drop, drip drop.
~Allison Obiem, 8th Grade
Black
dark shadow
scaring, daring, hating,
pitch-black, bright
transforming, changing, brighter
blank, light
white
~Tushar Nazmul, 6th Grade
18
Dogs
Dependent
Obedient
Great
Smart
Awesome
Rowdy
Energetic
Mike Kulikowski, 7th Grade
Friend
loyal, kind
sharing, helping, caring
always trustworthy, by your side
barking, jumping, loving
playful, companion
Puppy
~Lizzie DeRiggi, 6th Grade
19
Friendly
Unique
Needy
~ Nicholas Xhindolli, 6th Grade
by Marabelle DeLaurentis, 8th Grade
20
21
Your mind is like a tree,
it grows but you decide
what soil you help it
grow with.
-Megan Carroll, 7th Grade
Apples to Apples
Every year, during the fall,
The apple orchid blooms.
Every year, we go there,
my family and friend.
Elizabeth Ohw, 8th Grade
Every year, we pick apples,
large and luscious.
Every year, the apples taste delicious,
in pies or fresh off the tree.
Science
Every year, so plump and juicy,
Crimson and golden.
Every year, new memories are made,
I can’t wait to go there again.
~Priyanka Amin, 8th Grade
Thanksgiving
Turkey
Mashed potatoes
The parade
The day before Black Friday
Science can hold the answers to the wonders of the universe,
Science is the subject of which I am totally immersed.
Science can baffle and amaze,
Science can ignite our minds, keeping them ablaze.
Science can innovate someone,
Science can satisfy everyone.
Science can range from the smallest molecule to outer space,
Science can contribute in every type of case.
Science can make scientists test the unknown,
Science can trigger our minds to be blown.
~Shivani Patel, 8th Grade
Give thanks to people in your life
Awesome food
Meeting up with friends old and new.
~Sachin Jojode. 6th Grade
22
Smooth and cold
Slippery and refreshing during summer
But not fun to fall on
Summer
Samantha Weir, 6th Grade
Ice
Sunny and hot
Fun and good times swimming
But not fun without an air conditioner
Winter
Dark and cold
Blizzard
Snowy and ice skating fun
Blowing Snow
Lying in the drifts
Igloos being made
Zipping gusts of wind
Zig-zagging cars moving by
Air that is very cold
Rows and columns of snow
Delightful memories
But not fun to walk home in
~Tushar Nazmus, 6th Grade
Janki Patel, 6th Grade
Winter
Winter is snow and holidays,
family gatherings and fun.
Winter is colorful lights and ornaments,
decorating the Christmas tree.
Winter is sparkling snow,
gleeful sounds of playful children.
~Janki Patel, 6th Grade
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~Shivani Patel, 8th Grade
Kaylee Wicks, 8th Grade
Fire and Water
Fire
Hot, Flames
Burn, Cook, Lava
Heat, Bright … Flowing, Ocean
Bay, River, Refreshing
Pool, Puddle
Water
~Chris Ignatiou, 6th Grade
Walking Home from School
Walking home from school,
Scars
leaving my friends and teachers behind.
Hoping to see them again, the next day.
Then summer comes leaving my friends
I think everyone has scars.
Maybe not on their elbows or
on their knees.
and teachers behind.
Hoping to see them again, next September.
Friends and teachers.
~Tushar Nazmul, 6th Grade
But,
on their hearts, souls.
Between the cracks and crevices
of the little universe
they’ve created inside themselves.
My Friend
My friend is nice,
My friend is kind,
My friend is exciting,
~Erin Hart, 8th Grade
My friend is my friend.
My friend is hardworking,
My friend is interesting,
My friend is jumpy
My friend is my friend.
~Anjali Ramsaroop, 6th Grade
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The Leagle
by Sahus Bhandary, 6th Grade
Have you ever heard of
the majestic animal the leagle?
Legend has it that this
ferocious, yet graceful beast
guards the heavens keeping
them safe for the gods.
The leagle was born out
of a conflict. A lion and an
eagle, who were mortal
enemies, were constantly
fighting. A god with golden
hair and mythical powers,
named Zoos, was incensed at
the creatures’ behavior. He
came down from the heavens to
John Tucker, 6th Grade
teach them a lesson. “Bow before me,” Zoos bellowed. Terrified, the lion
and eagle stopped fighting. “I am fed up with the fighting,” said Zoos. “With the head of a
lion and the body of an eagle you shall become a leagle.” He snapped his fingers, thunder
clapped and they morphed
together. “You will remain connected to each other until you become friends,” ordered Zoos.
He returned to the heavens leaving lion and eagle confused.
“What just happened?” asked Lion. “We morphed together!” said Eagle. “Wait,
did you just speak out of my mouth?” asked Lion. “Now what do we do?” Eagle replied,
“If I recall, Zoos said we have to befriend each other and learn to accept each other’s
differences.”
Over the next few weeks, the leagle worked as a team finding a place to live and food
to eat. They began to appreciate each other. They used each other’s strengths to better the
world. Zoos reappeared. He was quite happy with Eagle and Lion. “ Since you have obeyed
me I shall change you back,” said Zoos. He snapped his fingers, thunder clapped but
nothing happened. The leagle could not be changed back. Lion and Eagle accepted their
fate. They remain the closest of friends and years later could not imagine being apart.
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How the Bat Came to be
by Sachin Jojode, 6th Grade
One foggy night a minor god was watching Earth from Olympus and saw a
dark, unknown cave. The god went into the cave to explore. He was amazed at
what he saw. Astonished, he thought, “Whoa! This place is awesome. I will
make it my hangout. It is humongous.” From that day forward, if the god didn't
have any tasks he would come to the cave to relax and investigate. The deeper
into the cave he went, the darker and scarier it became. Being a god he knew
nothing could hurt him, but he went reluctantly into the most deep and secret
part of the cave.
At first it was fine, but things went downhill quickly. The god saw a faint light
of which he headed towards. It was eerie and he smelled a familiar scent.
Monsters were lurking in the corner. He turned cautiously and encountered the
most hideous monster he has ever seen! The powerful god flinched. He attacked
the monster who was no opponent for the god. As he lay dying, the monster
unleashed thousands of black-winged creatures. These flying beasts soon
inhabited the god’s cave forcing him to retreat to Olympus. As the bats
multiplied they took over most of the caves. The bats came to be because of a
god’s curiosity.
Xbox
A - amazing
Video games
R - reliving
Playing, Raging, Gaming
T - thrilling
Family fun for everyone
~Tushar Nazmul, 6th Grade
Console
~Nicholas Xhindolli, 6th Grade
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Dreaming
As I look up at the sky,
The birds take cover
It is going to rain soon
They cry.
As I look up at the sky,
Angels form out of the clouds
Parting the storm
Their radiance creates a lightning shower.
As I look up at the sky,
Now’s the time to play
They take me to their lair
I shall return.
Lindsay Segal, 7th Grade
Astonishing views
Spinning planets
Tales of creation
Rambunctious comets
Orion in the dark sky
Neon colored nebulas
Orbiting galaxies
Magnificent universe
Yellow sun
As I wake up,
I realize I’m going to be late for school.
I get dressed and sprint outside
And as I look up at the sky,
I realize it was only a dream.
~Anjali Ramsaroop, 6th Grade
~Shivani Patel, 8th Grade
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Social Media
by Allison Obiem, 8th Grade
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Credit: https://twitter.com/ThislsDeep
Is social media a pro or a con? Is it helping our generation or corrupting it?
Social media is supposed to be a way for people to connect. It’s supposed to be a
place where people can express themselves. Social media is far from that. Although
social media may have one or two positive attributes, it is mostly negative. It has
turned living into a competition. Whether it’s who has the most “likes” or the most
“followers” or who has the most stuff to show off, this medium has created a
self-important atmosphere. Social media is also the gateway for cyberbullying by
allowing people to hide behind their usernames. Friendships end over ridiculous posts.
Rather than uniting people, it has drawn people away from society. People spend
countless hours on their phones. They create phony worlds from which they can’t escape.
Everywhere you go someone is Tweeting, posting or updating their status.
Our generation has no idea how to interact with one
another. We don’t know how to read body language.
We no longer need to because we communicate through
a four-inch screen! We are “connected” yet somehow
we are still so separated.
We need to unplug our technological lives and
enter the real world. There is so much beauty you won’t
find on Instagram, Facebook, Tumblr or YouTube. You
can find it right in front of you if you just look up. Have
you ever noticed most social media logos are blue? Go
outside your
front door and gaze at the sky’s beautiful shades of blue.
The direction our generation is heading is rather
terrifying. Someday we will be tasked with running this
world. Will we be able to keep it alive through our
phones and social media?
I guess we’ll have to wait and find out. In the
meantime, maybe we should try disconnecting to help
us reconnect.
by Madison Muggeo & Allison Obiem, 8th Grade
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Future
by Brianna Bourne, 8th Grade
As we get older, the age-old question begins to pop up in our minds. What will my future be? We often push the question back into our minds choosing to think about it later
when we’re older and smarter.
Soon days turn into weeks and the weeks turn into months and the months turn into
years and before we know it, we’re being dragged in by life’s pull. Our future has been chosen for us. I don’t want that to happen. No one does, but unfortunately it’s inevitable. The
only way we can prevent this is by having a plan!
I have a plan. The odds that it will work out the way I want it to are pretty unlikely,
but I can still try. I want to attend Columbia University with my best friend and live together
in an apartment in the city. Then after we graduate, we would move to California for a year
and then hop across the Atlantic Ocean to England for a few months. Globetrotting is in our
future. We will go anywhere life wants to take us. By age 40, I want to be married with kids
and pursuing my career as an author.
Although I realize it's completely unrealistic to think that that my whole life is going to
go down a path I made in middle school, I feel it’s better than having life choose your path
for you. If you wait and let life’s
circumstances do it for you, you might end up unhappy.
They say that if you love what you’re doing you’ll never work a day in your life. Why
settle for mediocrity? Follow your heart. It doesn’t matter how old or smart you are, it only
matters how compassionate you are about something. This is what should really set your future. Create your own paths.
30
The Note
by Chris Ignatiou, 6th Grade
It was ninth period and the bell has just rung. My friend Ben and I were walking to our lockers.
Then it happened. Everything went wrong. We ran into the meanest, scariest kid in seventh
grade, Andrew McBillsky.
He growled, “Whoa, where are you punks going?” Pretty sure this would hurt, I hesitantly asked,
“What’s it to you?” Andrew picked Ben up off the ground. Luckily for us, a teacher looked his
way and Andrew gently placed Ben back on the earth and said, “Now, I don’t want any trouble
little fella. I …” The teacher, seeing through this fake act yelled, “How many times do I have to
tell you to stop picking on other kids! Get into my class, you have detention!”
Andrew turned, his face all red, his eyes glaring at us. I could already feel the future
punishment we are facing from him. He whispered,” I deal with you punks later.” The teacher
yelled, “NOOOW!”
We smiled as Mr. Burnboun led the bully to his fate. “Finally, freedom from Andrew,” we
chuckled. We escaped his claws. Only two more hallways, a locker visit and a bus ride and we
are home free. A water spill on the seventh grade stairs forced us to use the dreaded eighth grade
stairs. We heard stories that would make Andrew look like a cute little puppy. “It was nice
knowing you,” I said to Ben. We hurried down the stairs and bolted out the doors. Safe! Ben and I
went our ways and I heard someone call out, “Hey, Tommy!” It was my friend Sue. She calls me
Tommy even though that’s not my name. I don’t know why and I don’t ask. “Dude, what’s on
your back?” she said. “There’s nothing on my …” Before I could finish she pulled a note out of
my hood. We opened this mysterious letter. It said,
“If you are reading this it should be 2016 March 21 and a
very sunny day. My name is Professor George P. Yachatoure. I
invented a time machine and it is buried in your school. There
will be an earthquake in the near future. A huge fault will
open, revealing the time machine. You are instructed to bring
it back to me and I will give you more directions. However, if
you fail there will be catastrophic destruction. A world war
is looming. The fate of the planet rests in your hands.”
George P. Yachatoure
TO BE CONTINUED ...
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