January Writers!!!

Yes, the Blog has finally been updated!!!!

We have our batch of January Writers.  Please read all submissions.  We have eleven this month.  Your blog comments are due Wednesday, February 20.

Leave helpful, constructive comments.  State what you like about the piece and/or what you find intriguing.  Be respectful, kind and courteous.

Feed Your Soul,

Mrs. Solano

Shame--Janelle

Ah, March... where this month at this time of year represents the month of luck. St.

Patrick’s day is just around the corner and almost everyone wants to celebrate with a boatload of money from their paychecks, have a glass of rum or beer to celebrate the luck of the Irish, and or maybe find their stack of ‘gold’ at the end of the rainbow. Not for me, though. Instead, I find a pot of coal sitting at the edge of the cliff of the colorless rainbow whose colors tend to fade out a bit, like the soul crushing, countless, and hell provoking days a human being or maybe even a leprechaun can’t seem to dwindle upon. Everything came crashing down with my heart striving for a sense of... love? The drumbeat of my heart aching for a relationship. Clich é at most, but ‘love’ has been the peak of my downfall. Balancing out where I fit on the spectrum of my sexuality almost felt like I was on pins and needles. The memories crashing down of my mother constantly screaming in my ear, as if balancing out getting good grades in school wasn’t already enough. Finding out, the perfect little filipino girl that she had hopes and dreams for were shattered into a painful distraught of uncertainty and misconception. The furious, sorrowful tears streaming down her rosy cheeks had taken a toll on her behalf. Doors slamming and names yelled out to one another almost felt like the pile of bricks between my barrier of safeness has been dismayed and the weight slowly crushing me. I knew I have made the worst decision of my

life, just telling her... I was, in fact, dating a girl. A gender that was the exact opposite of what she expected it should’ve, in her eyes, wanted that ‘person’ to turn out to be a boy. The amount of disconnecting all from social media and one click of a ‘block’ to this girl, put me through heartbreak. It felt like I was running a marathon with loopholes and misconduct, jumping hurdle after hurdle...finding out later in the end there is no hope for crossing that finish line. The audience in the bleachers screaming for you to surpass that person in first place managed to end up booing you for being distracted by the numbing, distracting, eerie thoughts rushing through your brain. Every hurdle that I jumped seemed to let me trip and fall struggling to make my way through the runner ups who was my inner battles of depression, anxiety, and suicidal thoughts. Like, every accomplishment and courage built up inside this introverted sixteen year old teenager, at the time, felt meaningless. Hair follicles being ripped off by my claws of my wretched nails in irritability and stress have become an utter nuisance to me and my mental health. Every waking moment, felt like a ticking time bomb was strapped to my back and I wouldn’t have cared if it managed to blow up and just let all my burning flesh and organs rot into a decaying gush of...nothing. Unbearable, and reluctant pain rushing through my blood vessels as if the disconnection from my family, who was always there to support me has become an enemy I had to overcome, as if I was in some sort of video game with no particular way of beating it or even speed running through it. On top of all the icing on the cake, being pushed away by your spirit lifting best friend really sliced a cut even deeper in the wound that I was almost close to bleeding out... It felt like all hell broke loose and it made me physically and emotionally with one snap of a finger just wanting to end it all, or maybe even consuming a poison apple could’ve let all my numbness and my slowly decayed rotting soul just disintegrate into thin air. Although,

something kept me to keep going. My therapist. Therapy session after therapy session has kept me going those last couple weeks when March was slowly coming to a close. Maybe, there was gonna be light or that pot of ‘gold’ at the end of my rainbow. Whether you believe in Allah or Jesus or evolution or parallel universes there is only one thing we know for sure. That life is now.

What Is Courage?--Stephanie

When people are afraid, they either run or fight, but when backed into a corner, or when I feel scared, I always run. Sometimes it’s because I don’t have the energy to fight back or it’s because I convinced myself that I know I’ll lose. There are everyday situations, like public speaking, that I don’t think I will ever be completely comfortable with, but that doesn’t mean I don’t try. Courage is climbing up onto that bike for the first time, even though you’re afraid to fall over. It’s getting behind the wheel of a car for the first time, even though you have no idea what you're doing. Courage isn't about not being afraid, it's about not letting fear stop you from living your life, and there’s strength in doing things that scare you. Children are some of the most courageous people, and it’s unfortunate how so many of us lose some of that fearlessness as time passes. Children are unafraid of saying exactly what’s on their minds, unafraid to ask questions regardless if they're considered silly questions. They are completely honest, but what happens when we lose that sense of courage? The loss can be small, like being afraid of horror movies, or that tiny twinge of fear before a presentation that you’re completely unprepared for where your voice starts to shake. However, those small losses can add up and lead to sleepless nights filled with worry. I struggle with being courageous and strong, with standing my ground in disagreements or being strong when someone yells at me and not crumbling onto the floor. However, there needs to be a balance, being afraid to run into the middle of the street is a normal type of fear. I don’t think we’re meant to live life in complete fearlessness but we’re supposed to be content with the outcome of our choices. For some, courage is hard to have, but doing things that you’re scared of and overcoming it in the end is the best feeling. Sometimes it’s hard to just go for it and be unafraid to do things that terrify you, but when you let your fears consume you it can take over your life. The one thing I want to do before the year ends is to be more fearless and courageous, because if not then I am letting my fears win.

The Apple That Fell Far Away--Richard

-Smack-

An unexpected bright red apple plops and awakens him, who was sleeping under the apple tree, flourishing bright green during the Spring season. The sun’s golden rays straight above scatter through the rustling, flowing leaves. He gets up, apple in hand, and heads into the house.
“My god Richard, what happened to your face?!” said his mom.
“It’s nothing major; this apple just fell on my face. It might leave a bruise.” he replied. “How are you supposed to find a nice girlfriend getting your face all messed up like that.
Remember I want some beautiful grandchildren to take care off when I’m old and when you’re a doctor curing cancer.” she says jokingly.
“I know. I know. You always say that. What if I don’t have a wife in the future?”
“Don’t say things like that. A real man needs a loving wife. It’s what God would want.” “Ok.”, he says reluctantly.
“Remember, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Your dad was pretty popular himself
in high school. Look at the beautiful wife he has now.”
“Okok, I get it. I’m gonna go check out that new pet shop.”
“Have you cleaned your room?”
“Yes.”
“Have you eaten?”
“Yes.”
“Fine. On your way out, toss out these apples in the dumpster for me.”
“What’s wrong with them?”
“They probably fell too far away from the tree; they’re bruised. We don’t want to eat
those apples.” “Alright.”
“Alright?!”
“Yes, mom.”
“That’s better.”
On the way to the store, he notices a large, black figure soaring through the skies; its
vigilant nature suggests it’s looking for prey. He doesn’t think much of it and proceeds. He reads “Pets Kingdom! Where you can find a part of yourself in every pet!”, owned by Lindsey Greene and Ben Turner. Richard steps in and sees the owners. Ben Turner easily reaches the upper shelves, seemingly restocking heavy boxes. His beard can probably house a couple pets. Towards the right of the store, Lindsey at the counter notices Richard step in. She has the brightest, most-welcoming smile accompanied by her golden, flowing hair.
“Hey there kiddo! How can I help ya out?” “Oh, I’m just looking around.”

“Well alright. If you need anything, just holler.”
He traverses throughout the store like a curious cat, uninterested in the basic array of hamsters, dogs, pets, and snakes, until he notices a bright, stocky, petite bird flaunting what seems to be every color of the rainbow.
“Lindsey! What type of bird is this?” he asks.
“Oh this one? It’s the painted bunting. Pretty fella ain’t he?”
“Yeah.”
“Be careful though. These fellas can be very territorial and aggressive. They’re hard to
care for at first, but can be some of the most beautiful, amazing pets you can ever find when you look beyond their initial behaviors.”
He ponders about how his strict, adamant mom would react to him bringing a pet home. However, he looks at the stocky avian and feels an odd connection to it.
“I’ll take him.” he says.
“Good choice.” Lindsey replies.
Richard returns home, cage with the painted bunting in his right hand and the apple in his
left hand.
“What is that?!” exclaimed his mom.
“An apple.”
“I’m not kidding around!”
“It’s a painted bunting. Isn’t he pretty?”
“Who gave you permission to get one?! Return it immediately! My god, what will your
dad say when he gets home.”
“What’s wrong with us keeping a bird? I’ll take care of it with my own money. You guys
won’t even have to worry about it.”
“Even if we keep it, didn’t you hear there’s a owl flying around preying on people’s
pets.”
“Oh, I think I saw it earlier.”
“They call it Orion. That’s besides the point. Why don’t you get a normal pet? Get one that isn’t so colorful and won’t draw so much attention from who knows what might be out there.”
“What’s wrong with being different? Don’t you think it’s sad that not a lot of people are willing to take care of it because it just happens to be slightly different. It’s like the apples you waste everyday. Just because they’re a little bruised, that doesn’t mean they aren’t perfectly good apples to eat.”
“I suppose. Fine, you can keep that. Just keep it caged until we know it’s safe okay?” “Ok.”
“What did you say?”
“Yes, mom.”
“Better.”

It takes a couple days for the authorities to capture Orion. Reports say the pugnacious avian preyed on a good amount of pets around the neighborhood. With it caught, everyone is relieved to be able to release their pets outdoors. After being territorial and aggressive for a couple days, like Lindsey had warned, the painted bunting warms up to Richard and his family. - Pluck-
An unexpected rainbow-colored, stocky bird pecks him on the face and awakens him. “Hey there, Love. Hungry?”
The bird perches on his finger. He grabs a bruised apple that fell far away and feeds it to
Love. There lies the boy, bird, and apple that fell far away from the tree.

Telomerase--Sadaf

She stood in front of the tank, the one with a lobster inside. Interesting, she thought. She didn’t prefer the crustaceans, but thought lobsters had their virtues. Her eyes gazed onto a plaque which read,
“Homarus Americanus, known as Lobsters, are one of the larger crustaceans of the ocean. They are invertebrates with hard exoskeletons. In the wild, they can live up to 45-50 years, the longevity of their lifespans is attributed to the Telomerase enzyme which repairs long repetitive sections of DNA sequences at the ends of chromosomes”.
Interesting, she thought again, Very interesting. If she understood biology correctly, she reasoned that humans aged because their DNA and cells get damaged when they overturn, but a lobster’s DNA doesn’t get damaged; it repairs, meaning they’d only die from external sources or damage involving their exoskeleton. She smiled as she was getting an idea. How interesting.
After some time, she decided she needed a pet. She wanted inspiration and company, and thought a pet would suffice. But what’d be best? She was allergic to cats and dogs, didn’t like birds or rodents, finding no interest in animals who’re so noisy, even at night, and didn’t care about reptiles. She needed something that’d suit her, that wouldn’t give her allergic reactions, that made little noise, that she cared about. Something she found interesting. She figured it was odd, that she’d be judged, but she didn’t care.
I have bigger things to care about . With that in mind, she took herself to the seafood market, bought an American Lobster, and instead of cooking and serving it with butter, she put it into a tank and made her new pet feel welcome.
Life with Sandra was what she expected; interesting. Sandra was her lobster’s name. She figured he wouldn’t mind having a female name since he was a lobster and had no concept of gendered names, or names at all. Not that names mattered, he was just a pet. Maybe less that that, it’s not like he’d form an emotional attachment to her or love her. Their relationship was more practical. You see, she didn’t need a pet. She didn’t really want one, either. Sandra was, to an outsider, her

pet; but to her, he was helping with research. Her experiment. Since the visit to the aquarium and reading about lobsters, she figured it out. Her hypothesis that’d change everything,
If there’s a way to incorporate indefinitely activated Telomerase enzyme from lobsters into human DNA, then we’d theoretically be immortal.
Immortality? From Lobsters? One would call her crazy, insane, delusioned, but she pressed on, determined.
If I pull this off, the only way we’d die is if we were killed or had terminal illnesses. There’d be no death from old age because our DNA wouldn’t age, WE wouldn’t age.
Life with Sandra changed her, she became obsessed with studying him and taking samples of his DNA to study in her makeshift lab. It’s all so interesting, she thought, So, so interesting.
Over time, she acquired more research, more pets. Some of them would die because her experiments were too much, but she continued, not being emotional and not growing attached to her pets. Her apartment had been overtaken by lobster tanks, and her mind had been overtaken by lobsters.
DNA creation starts at the moment of life, how would I put indefinitely activated Telomerase enzyme into already forming DNA? Could I put it in as a fetus develops? What about injecting it in bodies over time? What about manipulating human Telomerase Enzymes so they never become inactive?
These questions plagued her mind but she had no answers. She even turned to her lobsters, desperate for an explanation from the creatures who had what she wanted, but they didn’t bother sharing their secrets. Talking to them eventually turned into a habit.
Please, s he begged, tell me, how’re you made this way? Who helped you discover this amazing thing? Can’t you help me? Can’t you tell me? I’ve cared for you for so long, please tell me this one thing. Please, please, please...

Her lobsters would blink, not understanding her foreign words from the outside of their tanks. She stopped talking to them eventually, her reason being that lobsters were selfish and wanted to keep the secret of immortality all to themselves.
She’d done all the research she could, she had too many theories and questions, all unanswered. She had to test something out, to try and see if she was on the right track. It wouldn’t hurt. The result could be interesting.
She went to her lobsters and thanked them for all they’d done for her, though they’d been selfish. She was particularly grateful towards Sandra, who was her longest lasting pet and who’d been there since the beginning.
Her lab was a mess with vials of lobster DNA scattered about, and she grabbed one and emptied it into a syringe with a needle attached. This is it, she thought, a ll my research and time have gone into this. I’ve lost so many lobsters and so much of my sanity. I need answers and the only way I’ll get them is by testing and trying. It’s now or never.
She took the syringe and looked at Sandra who was in his tank. She really looked and saw how lovely he was. He had thoughts, feelings, and was her friend. She felt a prickle of love for him in that moment.
With a smile on her face and no hesitation, she took the syringe of lobster DNA and injected it into herself. Minutes passed and she felt nothing. Absolutely nothing happened. She was disappointed, but secretly relieved. She took the needle out of her arm and placed it down. She decided to get back to work, to do more research, to learn why she failed. As she started, she felt off, like something was wrong. The room felt hot, it was getting hard to stand, then suddenly she was on the floor unable to feel her body. She looked up and saw Sandra and her lobsters gazing at her before she closed her eyes.
What an interesting result, she thought, right before losing consciousness.

Extended Book Review- The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test--Mason

It is 1964, you are fueling up at a gas station in San Jose on a hot summer day
when a school bus pulls up to the pump next to you. Though this vehicle was a standard International Harvester, this was no ordinary bus. Instead of the classic yellow, this charter boasted an outer shell of every fluorescent and neon color there was, all swirling together in psychedelic shapes and patterns, and was brimming with a large group of long-haired crazy-eyed individuals. Belonging to the Ken Kesey, author of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest , and an iconic image of the 60’s, the bus was known as “Furthur” and carried a group of nomadic hippies who called themselves the Merry Pranksters, whom in 1964, started a road trip across the country. Tom Wolfe’s The Electric Kool-Aid Test, published by Farrar, Straus, and Giroux in 1968, is a autobiographical recount of Wolfe’s travels on this bus. The book documents a first hand experience of the psychedelic movement and gives insight to the lives of those at the forefront of the counterculture revolution in the early 60’s. 

We follow the narrator, Wolfe himself, in his story of his experience on Furthur, and his subsequent encounters with leading figures in beat generation, music, and various rising authors. The story starts briefly after Kesey’s release from imprisonment for possession of illegal drugs, and explores the freakish and wild lifestyles that were commonly seen in the wandering youth. We are introduced to characters such as Kesey’s family, Black Maria, Neal Cassady, and Hell’s Angel’s Freewheeling Frank. This

group continues their journey across the nation, in which massive amounts of LSD, psilocybin, mescaline, and other psychoactive drugs where used in attempts to reach what was known as Acid Test Graduation, where partakers would reach a mind state in which psychedelics were no longer needed to “transcend human consciousness”. The Pranksters begin broadcasting this behavior to the general public under the name of the Acid Test, which leads to increasing amounts of followers. Through these infamous actions, Kesey becomes well known, and began to receive recognition from not only the Hells Angels and Allen Ginsberg of The Grateful Dead, but also the police. A fateful arrest for possession of marijuana leads to Kesey and the group to flee to Mexico. Upon arrival, the group tries to recreate their experience in using drugs, but was unsuccessful, citing the desert climate as the main issue. Pretty soon, Kesey return to the United States, in which his status has skyrocketed to the likes of a celebrity. Despite being hunted by the FBI, Kesey nonchalantly accepts interviews for TV and radio channels, spreading his ideals. Unsurprisingly, he gets caught and, landing himself jail time for his attempted escape and numerous non-violent crimes. Keysey reluctantly goes to a work camp in California, marking the end of his association with the group. The pranksters continues along, but were swept up in a storm of drug abuse as they continue their cross country trip. Their arrival at the Woodstock Festival of 1969 marked the end of their campaign, where Furthur meets its final resting place of Kesey’s backyard.
Tom Wolfe’s novel was a pioneer to a style of writing known as New Journalism, in which unconventional phrases and techniques are used within the story. This is seen throughout the novel in the form of irregular indentation for emphasis, heavy use of slang, and run on and free flowing sentence structure. In doing so, Wolfe crafts a narrative that parallel the thoughts and conversations of an average person. By utilizing

this form of storytelling, helps immerse the reader in the story, as this particular style reflects the culture of the time. In addition to this, Wolfe includes descriptive imagery of his surroundings to explain or develop the plot and its characters. This in turn, creates a realisting recount of a journalist’s travels during his youth in America’s most controversial time period. 

I would recommend this book to anyone interested in the 60’s counterculture. Tom Wolfe’s story shows the origin of art and music of that time, much of which is still relevant today. This novel can serve as a historical window into a rebellious time period in which people took peace and love to the extremes. This book provided a refreshing view of the 1960s, in which the creative side of society was shown instead of the violent Vietnam War that was going on at the time.

Extended Book Review--The Impossible Knife of Memory--Victoria

Post traumatic stress disorder, or PTSD, is a very serious disorder. There are more than 3 million U.S. cases per year. This is why it is important for people to see PTSD as not just another disorder, but something that is real and happening right now. PTSD is a psychiatric disorder that may occur after experiencing life threatening events such as military combat, natural disasters, terrorist attacks, serious accidents, or physical or sexual assault as a child or an adult. For example, in the book The Impossible Knife of Memory by Laurie Halse Anderson, Hayley’s dad, Andy, suffers from PTSD because of his experiences in the military. Although fiction is “fake” and doesn’t provide factual information, it still needs to be included in the curriculum because it gives examples of real life issues in our society such as PTSD. 

For example, although The Impossible Knife of Memory is a fictional story it still provides the reader with a better understanding of PTSD, which is a real life disorder that people suffer from everyday. This touching story provides the reader with heartbreaking, realistic fiction. At one point in the story, Hayley says, “I flashed on the way he had hugged me before I left: sudden and fierce, a true dad hug. A goodbye hug.” Hayley is having a flashback of the way her dad hugged her before he tried to commit suicide. Thankfully, Hayley realized what her dad was about to do before it was too late. This is a prime example of how the author of this book does an amazing job at channeling the reader’s mind and heart. She makes the reader see things through the character’s perspective thus putting oneself in another’s shoes. The author gives the reader a real, unfortunate situation to discover throughout the

book, which makes the reader understand what it is like to actually go through such a terrible experience. This is why it is important for fictional stories to be a part of the curriculum because they open our eyes into another’s perspective. 

Many children have parents who are veterans and have gone through traumatic experiences resulting in PTSD. Not only does this disorder affect the person who has it, but it also affects the people around them, especially their kids. For example in the book The Impossible Knife of Memory , the main character, Hayley, is very affected by her father’s disorder. At one point she even says to her father, “I’ve been standing on the edge with you for years.” When she says this, she is indicating that she has also been experiencing all this pain that her father carries as well. Another quote from the book is when Hayley’s boyfriend, Finn, says “You take care of him more than he takes care of you,” He sees how much Hayley takes care of her dad. She cooks for him, cleans, washes his clothes. At one point she even has to drive to a sketchy bar and pick him up after a woman who works there called her saying he was drunk and got in a fight. Although it seems like her dad is a horrible father, the way he is acting is completely out of his control. It is one of the symptoms of PTSD. People with this disorder do whatever they can to get the painful memories out of their head. Unfortunately, Hayley’s dad does this by drinking. Everything Hayley and her dad are going through in this book can happen in real life, and in fact, it is happening in real life at this very moment. This is why it is important for students to read more fiction because it gives great examples of these real world issues such as PTSD.
Another vital reason why we need to take PTSD more seriously is because it can lead to other disorders or mental illnesses. A few examples are suicidal ideation, substance abuse, depression, personality disorder, anxiety and the list goes on. The online article, “Signs & Symptoms of Suicidal Ideation” quotes, “suicidal ideations are often a symptom or result of undiagnosed or untreated mental

health disorders.” We cannot let these disorders go undiagnosed or untreated. Some people who have this disorder may not feel like it is important enough for them to treat it and get help. Which is why we need to take PTSD more seriously and inform people of all the risks that come with the disorder, so people can get the help they need before it is too late.
Fiction needs to be a part of the curriculum because it gives examples of real life issues in our society such as PTSD. For example, although The Impossible Knife of Memory is a fictional story, it still provides the reader with a better understanding of a real world issue. Not only does
this disorder affect the person who has it, but it also affects their family and friends. PTSD and other disorders need to be taken more seriously. We can do this by informing more people about these disorders. Students already understand the issue through facts, but it is important to show them through heartfelt stories as well, which is mostly found in fiction.