Exposures 2020
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EXPOSURES 2020 A LEELANAU COUNTY STUDENT JOURNAL Exposures is a collaborative project which depends upon the time and talents of many EXPOSURES 2020 people in our community, including: PROJECT COORDINATOR Welcome to this 32nd issue of EXPOSURES! This is a collaborative Deb Freed project designed in 1988 to challenge Leelanau County students in ART EDITORS grades 7-12 to express themselves through art and writing. It provides a Will Case showcase for their work. Deb Freed Donna Popke It is a testament to the commitment of our teachers and fine arts WRITING EDITORS Char Bickel devotees that we have been able to produce this publication every Nellie Danke year for over a quarter century, during good economic times and bad, Lynne Rae Perkins and especially with the extra challenges this year associated with the SCHOOL COORDINATORS COVID-19 pandemic and closures. Nikki Ackley Cindy Crandall We are grateful for the continuing support of the administrators and Jennifer Evans boards of education from Glen Lake, Leland, Northport, Suttons Bay, Mary Hall Lani Hoenscheid-Smith St. Mary’s, Pathfinder, and the Leelanau School. We appreciate the help Kaz McCue of Suttons Bay Public Schools, which serves as project fiduciary. Kathryn Murphy Duncan Moran Ongoing contributions from many generous individuals and Genuine Andy Smith Jill Walker Leelanau, Suttons Bay Art Festival, Glen Arbor Arts Center, Leelanau Jennifer Walter Township Foundation, Leland Educational Foundation, Suttons Bay- Anna Wassa Bingham Fund, and the Youth Advisory Council of the Grand Traverse Lori Wille Regional Community Foundation are also gratefully acknowledged. PARTICIPATING SCHOOLS Glen Lake Community Schools Special thanks go to the Northport Arts Association for their support in Home Schools offering to host the show that presents EXPOSURES to the community. Lake Leelanau St. Mary’s School At the time of production of this issue, preparations were beginning for The Leelanau School Leland Public School a first – to host a virtual show! Northport Public School Pathfinder School Each year hundreds of poems, stories, photographs, paintings, drawings, Suttons Bay Public Schools and sketches are submitted for review. This year, 150 pieces were PROOFREADERS selected to best represent the heartfelt thoughts, dreams and hopes of Toddy Rieger Leelanau County students. Andrea Seeley COMMUNITY LIAISONS/FUNDERS You can tell from the work inside these pages that our young people Glen Arbor Arts Center have a strong bond with the place where they are growing up. Leelanau Genuine Leelanau County is a special place and we hope you enjoy the inside look at it Grand Traverse Regional Community Foundation from our students’ perspectives. Leelanau Township Foundation Leland Educational Foundation On behalf of all the editors, school coordinators, writers and artists, Northport Arts Association we congratulate the students whose work is included within these Suttons Bay Art Festival Suttons Bay-Bingham Fund pages. Enjoy their beautiful art, listen to their voices, applaud their Sally Viskochil imaginations and enjoy EXPOSURES 2020! Youth Advisory Council of the Grand Traverse Regional Community Foundation 1 Things Will Come Again Madison Malone, Grade 7 Winter, expanding, contracting and shifting. It seems so strange these months. Tiny beautiful things fall onto a bleak and lifeless ground, and all the world becomes still. It is a time for rest and sleep, but it seems that we cannot. A darkness spills over us and drowns many. Even though everything is white, it’s so black. Everything crunches beneath us. We are not supposed to be here. Fragile these things are, tread slowly, don’t make a sound, just like the sleeping earth. Take a breath, feel the coldness fill you up. It flows inside of you and seems to last forever. Our eyelashes become speckled with white. We long to return for the warmth but it’s vanished, just as quickly as the cold takes its firm grip upon you, asking for death. Branches struggle to hold up. Many secret things lie under this blanket. Things will come alive again, the tunnels, the seeds and the longed for green. I promise you they will come again, the cold will leave its last touch and disappear. Our feet will soon feel the ground beneath us. The waves will come alive, roaring for freedom. And the air will gently grace us, telling us that it’s our time to come alive again. Ashley Croff, Grade 8 Reagan Middleton, Grade 12 2 Flu Harper Flees, Grade 7 The flu, it changes annually And makes you feel quite ill. You’ll reach a high of 103, A fever, if you will. Stomach’s doing somersaults, Saline spray, thermometers, Bubble baths with Epsom salts And rising temperatures. You’ll sit and watch TV all day, ’cause there’s nothing else to do. You think you felt the whole room sway, And that’s not good for you. And to all those feeling under the weather, I sure hope that you’ll get better. Henry Stanton, Grade 11 Henry Stanton, Grade 11 3 Her Ashes to Immolate Josephine Stillwell, Grade 7 She sat On the ashes, Was new, Like fresh wood. Held a box Of matches; Was untold Of their power. A man Walked by, And waved With a smile. She did not Look at him Or make A sound. She grew As she lit The first match, Olive Ryder, Grade 8 And watched it burn. Many people Asked her To help Dark Winter With real work, Caroline Best, Grade 7 But she sat, Where do we go when that time comes? And grew, Are we near? And started Is this it? A fire; This cold shed of tears is all we have? Constant questioning of that bitter day. A small one, But as I hear a knock below me, She grew, I brush past the thick, moaning wind, So did it. I creep down to the brown cellar in the middle of the woods, Open the door, holding back my shrieks, And hear a whisper. “You’re the last one, you, you, you…” Silence. They’re coming. The dead and broken souls, Moving toward me like a mouse to cheese. I just stood there knowing, this is it. Hisses, shrieks and pounds is all I hear. Goodbye. 4 Last Thought Sara House, Grade 8 The snow lightly drifts down from the gray sky, It settles on the ground but quickly vanishes. I know the water will be near unbearable, But I think the experience will be worth it. Breathe in, Breathe out. Inhale, Exhale. The chilling breeze runs over my skin as I strip to nothing but my swimsuit, Take my messy bun out of my hair, Letting it fall carelessly into gentle waves upon my shoulders and down my back. The heat in the car is still on and my towel is under my arm. The water is just feet away, So still it’s as if it were earth itself. I rest my towel on a piece of driftwood and think about how crazy I must look, Then step one foot in front of the other, closer and closer. The water is only just above my ankles and I can already feel myself going numb, I walk in a little further before I take a deep breath and brace for the plunge. All in an instant, I can’t think straight and my instincts don’t know what to do, The pressure engulfs me and clear thoughts don’t seem like a possibility. That didn’t stop you from being my last thought. Thoughts Sam Vukasovich, Grade 10 I find myself awake at night, Looking at my ceiling, Deep in thought. No matter what I do, I can’t be like them. I feel like I am just half a man, Trying to find my purpose. People tell me that I have a great life, And that I have it all, But why don’t I feel that way at all? I feel like I’m not good enough. Like I’m always second best. Like maybe I will never win, Why can’t I put these thoughts to rest? But I put them aside for the day, And put on a happy face. Maybe I will win in the end, And get the appreciation I long for. But who knows? I sure don’t. Sara House, Grade 8 5 Eden Wolf, Grade 11 Thomasin Bison, Grade 9 Loss Sofia Brady, Grade 11 Why do we cry over people we don’t know? I remember a single afternoon in a small, blue farmhouse with worn brown recliners and a view into a peaceful pasture of cows. I remember a kind, petite woman, and watching my two second cousins cling onto their aunt. And here I stand beside them, unsure but crying alongside them over someone whose face I have no memories of. I remember no smiles, no bocce on the soft lawn, no golden childhood memories, no eyes filled with the special love of a grandparent. Only a memory of an open oak casket and the terrifying realization that death was a made up, unsmiling face. Leona Begeman, Grade 10 6 Amanda Herman, Grade 11 ABC Jake Murphy, Grade 11 None match the corresponding letter. Across the lines you read, Often wanting to stop writing, but I am Blandly words are composed. Persevering through, but seriously, what word starts with a Coming in so rapidly. Q Do you Running out of ideas. Even have time to process this? Starting to regret this. For my poem is so complicated. The end is near in sight, so I cannot stop. Gaining complexity as it goes. Using all of my brain to finish writing this Having doubts that I can finish this poem? Vivacious poem.