Re FRAME

ART & LITERARY magazine

created by the students of the College Internship Program (CIP)

vol.1 www.cipworldwide.org College Internship Program

Our Mission is to inspire independence and expand the foundation on which young adults on the Autism Spectrum, with ADHD and other Learning Differences can build happy and productive lives.

PREPARE FOR SUCCESS – SIN CE 1984

California • Florida • Indiana • Massachusetts • New York Welcome to ReFrame!

We are so excited about our first Art & Literary Magazine. This represents the combined efforts of the students at CIP’s six centers across the United States. This work encompasses the creativity, enthusiasm and vision of our amazing students. Their stories, poems, art and photography evolve from their hearts and the unique way they experience the world. Each of their roads has been full of pitfalls and struggles. Searching to find their place in the world, they have arrived at the present with emotional strengths and challenges, supporters and detractors, and accumulated years of experience both positive and negative. At CIP they have the opportunity to “reframe” their past and take forward what they like, leaving the rest behind. They get to re-define themselves: learning what their assets are, what knowledge and skills they need to learn, and start on a new path. Upon understanding and accepting who they really are, as being made exactly that way “for a good purpose”, they become “self change agents” and go after what they want in their lives. We thank all of you who support them in their journeys, and hope you’ll enjoy the fruits of their labor.

Sincerely, Dr. Michael McManmon, CIP Founder

ReFrame – Art & Literary Magazine, vol.1 1 Portrait Lucy M. CIP Berkshire

Love Ashley T. Is there a formula for the feeling of true love CIP Brevard or is it just your biological response speaking the truth? Courage Jens H. Courage - CIP Brevard The strength to admit your weaknesses, To swallow your pride, Accept your loss while not grieving your failure, To soldier on to success through flighty dreams And wield right motives, To stage a revolt and rebel, To move and yield at the same time.

Friendship Troy B. Here in print are my friends … CIP Brevard Friends come and go as time moves forward. Trust is made and over time it can be broken. Will the bridge of trust be rebuilt or stay broken? Only time will tell.

F riends R espect I nspire E ncourage N eglect D isappear S ad H ope I dealize P ass on

ReFrame – Art & Literary Magazine, vol.1 3 My poppy’s house is old. It was originally a A Frigid colonial farmhouse. Now when most people look at my poppy’s house they think “what a mess” or that it needs a lot of work. Both Length are true. However, to me it is a place of fun, Ellen O. exploration, adventure and learning. His house is located in Tolland, Mass, CIP Berkshire which is a small hill town. My Poppy has over one hundred and eighty acres of land. Most of it is woods, but he also has a bea- ver pond, a ravine, and a crab apple orchard amongst other things on his property. Hiking to and from these places is a given. The hikes can be long and hard if you are not used to the trails. I always feel good after walking in his woods. Hikes usually don’t occur in the winter, unlike in this story. Winter came early that year. It was cold, icy and very snowy. At my house, down in Agawam, a suburban town, the snow was about a foot deep. In Tolland, however, there’s usually more. My sister and I had packed our overnight bags and were ready for our sleep over at Poppy’s. I was twelve. Emily, being my younger sister by two years, was ten. We couldn’t wait for the fun to start. Our cousins, Isaac and Tim were already up at the farm. I don’t know why we call Poppy’s home “the farm” seeing as how it really isn’t one any more. Emily was a fourth grader. You could spot her in any crowd, no matter the size, be- cause of her appearance. Despite her fiery hair and lanky height, she has a very quiet and shy personality, or at least she did then. Tim and Isaac were both in fifth grade. Although they were close, their personalities were very different. Tim was the quiet, bookworm and video gamer. He preferred staying inside. Isaac was the loud, hyper active, troublemaker of the family. Often enough, he’d find himself in sticky situations. The morning after Emily and I were dropped off, Poppy suggested we take a hike to the beaver pond. It had frozen solid and Emily, Isaac and I were really excited to see it. Tim, on the other hand, chose to stay back and play on his X-box. Poppy said we’d go around noon. The rest of that morning Isaac practically begged Tim to join us. Tim thought we were crazy though, for wanting to hike in the snow. Soon Poppy and the three of us were bundled up and ready to hike. In the summer we could take the truck most of the way but with all the snow on the ground we were going to have to walk a total of about three miles, there and back. So onward we trudged. All the way, there were puddles that were frozen over and looked a little brownish. We found that when we stepped in them our boots got soaked. About halfway to the pond, Isaac wanted to go out on his own to try to find it himself. Poppy said it was fine, seeing as how Isaac knew the woods really well. Eventually we reached the pond. The scene was beautiful in the Re winter. Snow had drifted on top of the ice, making it sparkle. The sur- FRAME rounding trees looked like they were from a winter postcard. With the addition of the slight breeze, peace surrounded us. My Poppy had gone out on the ice just yesterday and all was fine so he started out again. After asking Poppy if he was sure it was safe, Emily and I started to follow. I still couldn’t keep a bad feeling from whispering in my ear. Poppy was probably seven feet in front of me and I was probably four feet in front of Emily. Just as that whispering stopped nagging at me, I noticed a large patch of light brown on the ice just a few paces in front of Poppy. Something inside of me said to yell: “Stop!!! Thin Ice!!!” Unfortunately, Poppy didn’t heed my warning quick enough and with one more step, crash went the ice, leaving Poppy in icy water up to his armpits and holding onto the ice in front of him. Emily and my eyes were like saucers and our jaws must have dropped as we edged very slowly over to him. Once we had edged close enough I was too shocked to do anything but Emily bent down in order to help pull him out. Incredibly she managed to do so. In that moment I knew that we had to get back to the house quickly. Poppy was almost completely soaked in icy water in the middle of the winter and he, Emily and I were a mile and a half away from the house surrounded by woods. I was worried about hypothermia setting in. We got out of the area as quick as we could and started our long hike back. About a third of the way towards the house the breeze had gotten a little more force- ful and we could hear a faint “Help. Help.” It took us a moment to realize Poppy was almost completely it was Isaac. Poppy told Emily and me soaked in icy water in the to go and find him. Emily took off as middle of the winter... quick as someone could possibly run in the snow. I, on the other hand was hesitant. My mind was torn. A large part of me didn’t want to leave Poppy, still worrying about hypothermia; while the other knew Isaac apparently needed help. When Poppy noticed that I was hanging back he urged me to go on ahead so I started off to find Isaac with one swift, concerned look back at Poppy. I caught up to Emily and together we ran ahead, trying to find where Isaac was. After a while we turned back because we could no longer hear him. So we started back in the direction we came and found Poppy, who was climbing into some bushes. He had found Isaac and was pulling him out of some Mountain Laurels. When Isaac was free from their

ReFrame – Art & Literary Magazine, vol.1 5 Sunflowers Rachel M. CIP Berkshire

ReFrame – Art & Literary Magazine, vol.1 6 grasp, he claimed that the bushes were actually pricker-bushes. Then I noticed another problem. Poppy’s pants and jacket were no longer soaked through. Instead there was ice build up about an inch thick. When we knocked on them it felt and sounded as if we were knocking on plywood. The longer we walked, the more Poppy wanted to keep stopping. I wouldn’t let him stop. Somehow I knew he needed to keep his body heat up. The only way I could think to do that was to keep walking. I also knew that he was getting tired, probably from the extreme cold. The thought of hypothermia scared me as much as it kept me going. I knew what could happen if Poppy didn’t get warm soon, and that was not on my agenda. We eventually came to his once flourishing, but small, blueberry patch. I knew it wasn’t far now. Emily and Isaac decided to go back through the small cemetery. That path was the harder choice. It required more work because the path was not as well used. I, however, stayed with Poppy and took the easier and more direct path. I don’t think that Isaac and Emily fully understood the situation and what dangers were possible. I had only just watched a documentary, in school, that had a case of hypothermia in it. I was only in sixth grade at the time, which wasn’t much of an age difference compared with my sister and cousins, but in this situation I realized more than they did. After what seemed like forever, we made it out of the woods. The house was in view now. Thankfully, this time we could walk on the main road. Emily and Isaac exited shortly after us as we headed to the warmth of the house. As soon as we entered the house I said to Poppy: “Get out of those clothes, take a hot shower and then go to bed!” I assured him we would be fine for the time being. Poppy, not paying any attention to my advice, just changed clothes. He went about his day as if noth- ing had happened. That night he strongly regretted not listening to me. He was beginning to feel the effects of the day’s events. I remember him telling me that he wished he had that hot shower, as I suppressed an “I told you so.” The next day was the day that Poppy would drop us all off at our homes. Within a short amount of time the whole family knew about Poppy’s little icy dip. They were con- cerned at first, but now these events are just considered a family story. When I look back now, I think of the lessons that these events taught me. One exam- ple of this was learning to trust my intuition. Often times it’s those life lessons that are of great value and they can only be taught by experience.

ReFrame – Art & Literary Magazine, vol.1 7 Splatter Erica F. CIP Berkshire Perspective Lawrence W. Sometimes CIP Brevard I’ve said my life is like dancing on a razor’s edge, skating on thin ice, hurtling through a ring of fire.

I was wrong. The glass is half full, the glass is half empty. Dreaming dark dreams can not hide sorrow, can not banish pain.

It all comes down to a little thing called perspective.

Trials become lessons, Curses become blessings. Acquaintances become friends.

And then, I find that the hand fate has dealt me isn’t so bad at all.

Amazing what can happen with just a little change of perspective.

ReFrame – Art & Literary Magazine, vol.1 9 My suspicions were first The Boy at the aroused by the DVD in his hands; Disney Pixar’s “Shrek”. He looked to be in his mid to Bus Station late teens, and most teenag- Adria N. ers I knew didn’t watch Disney movies. Then, his blatantly CIP Bloomington forward question, the way he just looked at me, and then looked at my dog resting on the ground, and said, “Are you blind?” with such childlike innocence and curiosity. “No,” I said. “Well, why do you have the dog for then? Doesn’t he help you?” “Yes. She finds the way home when I get lost.” “How come you get lost?” His syntax, I thought, so inquisitive, somewhat juvenile, surely it doesn’t match his age? “It’s because of a learning disability,” I answered. “I see,” he said, but I could almost guarantee he didn’t. “When is the bus coming?” he asked, “When is it going to get here? The #3 bus,” he pressed, the panic rising in his voice, “I don’t want to miss it!” By then I knew I wasn’t sitting beside a young man. I was sitting on a bench waiting for the bus next to a child in a young man’s body. “It will be here in about ten minutes,” I said. “Oh, good! I can’t miss it!” Suddenly, a fire engine surged out of the fire station nearby. The boy immediately covered his ears. I desperately wanted to cover mine too, but I knew he was more afraid than me, so I didn’t. I also wanted to tell him we were more alike than he could ever know. I recalled the thousands of times as a child I had “I have autism too,” gone to play outside and would immediately I wanted to tell him. cover my ears and cower at the sound of sirens, which I loathe to this day. I recalled how I too, was preoccupied with Winnie the Pooh and Disney Channel long after these things were considered socially acceptable interests and especially how, to this day my life is governed by schedule and routine. How changes and surprises make me terribly anxious, so that my voice sounds just like the boy’s fearful one. So that I begin to cry and quote the lines of certain films over and over. I’m sure he does as well, I thought. “I have autism too,” Eye of the Horse Dave F. CIP Brevard

I wanted to tell him. “It’s alright,” I said when the truck had driven away; “It’s gone now.” “What’s gone? Is the bus gone?” he asked, the panic coming back again. “No, I said, it isn’t even here yet.” I paused. “Oh, there it is now!” He immediately got up and stood in line to board without saying goodbye or thank you. I wasn’t offended. It is something we autistics sometimes do. We don’t mean to be rude, but sometimes we are just too focused on the task at hand to think of anything else, even if it’s something like saying goodbye or thank you. Before we both got off at the mall later, I shouted toward the front for the driver to please open the door. “Excuse me, Sir, could you open the door please?” Nothing. I tried again. Nothing. “Hey, Mister!” The boy yelled, “Open the door! I’m getting off too!” The door slid open. Scowls and surly remarks followed us out the door. The driver almost yelled at us, but we departed too quickly. If they only knew, I thought. If both of them only knew.

ReFrame – Art & Literary Magazine, vol.1 11 Lee mural project Students CIP Berkshire Special Rainbows Sarah R. CIP Amherst

In the sky after a rainy day, the sun comes up and shines away. You then see a streak of colors, all touching one another A variety of bright arches amongst the sky, you can see with your very own eyes Though one may not realize, a special something can be portrayed as a rainbow in the sky. For instance, us individuals make the world shine, all diverse as different colored lines. All across the world from Russia all the way to Peru, and even animals are included too From women with hair golden blonde to the chirp of a blue jay at the light of dawn From men so tall and thin to the smallest reptiles with smooth gloss-like skin From the oldest person so wise to the developing youngster needing word of advice. All us organisms in this world, thus of different shapes and sizes and even disguises. Make this world joyful for all as wonderful Different languages spoken all around the globe, one can dance to the light of a strobe From the bark of a dog to the grunt of a hog From the sound of a a cat’s meow to the sight of a penguin’s vow. Protecting young, shine like the sun We all rise up and try to not make things tough. From the youngest child to the tiniest bird, it is all worth while as we all heard. Everyone is this world is different, which for a reason adds much excitement, it would be shocking for one to resent. Now as you have read and can see, in our minds an imaginary rainbow can be made up of Earthling residents just like you and me.

ReFrame – Art & Literary Magazine, vol.1 13 I am 21 years old and out and proud to My coming be who I am. It took a lot to be the per- son that I am now. It all started in the tenth grade out story of high school. I told my friend Sheila Vasha S. that I might be gay. She said “How did this happen? We dated for awhile!” I re- CIP Berkshire sponded with “Well this is just a feeling that I have and it may not even turn out to be anything at all.” How wrong I was. Sheila had a gay friend and she thought it would be best if we would meet. So we had met and his name was Donta. We realized after talking that we were both attracted to each other and then I really knew that I liked guys. About a month later, I began to think about coming out publicly to my friends and family. The first person that I told that I was gay was my best friend Jacob, whom I have known since 5th grade. Not surprisingly, he was fine with me being who I was, in all as- pects. Based on that reaction, I began to tell other people at my High School. The most negative reaction I received was from someone I trusted. I came out to my good friend Andrew and he proceeded to announce it to the entire school. By the next year, everyone in my school knew that I was gay. That’s when things began to go downhill. I was repeatedly bullied and called names like “fag” & “homo”, which deeply hurt me. I was physically assaulted and felt that I had nowhere to go. My school’s response was to ignore what was going on. This behavior continued for over a year. At this point, I started to think that perhaps suicide was my best option. I felt like I was no one and that I could not get help from anyone. I felt like I was in a dark hole that was just getting darker and darker and there was no hope for me to go on in this life. I never went through with my darkest thoughts but I wanted to so badly. I just had to tell someone what was going on in my life. So one day I decided to approach my school counselor Ms. Defanzo. While she was unsurprised at my sexuality, she was deeply concerned and shocked to discover the be- havior of other students towards me. Unbeknownst to me, Ms. Defanzo spoke to my mother on my behalf. When my mother came home from work that night, the first thing she said when she saw me was “Please don’t kill yourself” and began to cry. She asked me why I wanted to hurt myself and I told her it was because of the bullying I was experiencing at school. When she asked me why I was being bullied, for the first time ever, I told her I was gay. At this point, I broke down and began to cry along with my mother. Re Fast forward to the next day – when I came downstairs in the FRAME morning, both of my parents were waiting for me and wanted to talk. My mom and dad explained that they loved me, and would continue to love me, no matter who or what I was. Surprisingly, they said that they already knew that I was gay. After that conversation, my parents began to explain to my family that I was gay. After that, every time I met with family members, they told me that they loved me for who I was, regardless of my orientation. Hearing that was something that allowed me to get over the dark time in my life. It was then that I sought out a support group for young gay people that was called Swagly. I was with that group for three years and it helped to mold me into a strong gay man. I also joined the Gay Straight Alliance at my high school. The final turning point for me was when I was 18 and my father drove me I want to say “Don’t give and friends to the Boston Gay Pride Parade up. It will get better.” and Festival. It was there that I was able to see groups of all ages that were just like me. Now I am 21 years old and on my way to independence. I am proud to be who I am as a person and I don’t care what other people think of me. I live everyday by saying “I am what I am.” To those that follow after me and have to face the same problems, I want to say “Don’t give up. It will get better.” There will always be people who will not like you for what you are, but in the end your true friends and family will love you no matter what. If you ever feel like you want to end it all, just know that there is always a light that will guide you out of the darkness. For me, that light was the love and support of my family. I hope you find your own.

ReFrame – Art & Literary Magazine, vol.1 15 A Girl with a Past Ellen O. CIP Berkshire

From Chaotic to The forest stretches far and the trees stretch tall. The ravine trickles and the wind whispers. Peaceful To the unknowing, the trails are hard going. But to her, habit leads the way forward. Ellen O. As she walks on, she thinks and she remembers. CIP Berkshire Nine. The number that used to overwhelm. Excluded. For she was one and they were nine. “That was the past and this is the present.” is what she says now - a conscious reminder. The winds are now coaxing her confidence, leading her lovingly to her location. The trees, weeding out all the bad feelings as if they were stitching up old wounds in need. Once there, the ravine commands her to sit and listen to the sounds that nature surrounds. then the wide woodlands ask her: are you glad? Letters Kelly J. CIP Berkshire

ReFrame – Art & Literary Magazine, vol.1 17 “Thinking in pictures” tells the story of Thinking Temple Grandin’s life with autism. Tem- ple Grandin is a gifted woman who is on the autism spectrum and thinks in in pictures pictures. She says words are like her Lucy G. second language, and pictures are her first language. She describes it like this; CIP Berkshire “I translate both spoken and written words into full color movies, complete with sound, which run like a VCR Tape in my head. When someone speaks to me, his words are instantly translated into pictures”. Due to her unusual abilities, she has designed equipment which handles 1/3rd of the cattle and hogs in the USA. When some of the people she works with find out that she designs these machines and she has autism, they are surprised. When Temple was a child she thought everyone thought in pictures. She didn’t figure out that most people were completely verbal and could only think in words until she went to college. Because Temple has autism she has a lot of trouble with social skills and has many sensory issues. Because of that she designed the squeeze machine. When Temple was younger she shied away from her mother’s affection, so she wanted to make a machine that would give her the amount of pressure and pleasure of a hug. Temple feels that if she was two years old today she would be diagnosed with Kanner’s autism because she had delayed, abnormal speech development. On the other hand, she feels that if she was diagnosed as a adult she would be diag- Most people I know nosed with Asperger’s syndrome because she who are autistic are not can pass a simple theory of mind test where like him or Temple. she puts herself in another person’s shoes. She doesn’t have what most people have in personal relationships as far as emotions and feelings go, and she is a very literal person. Upon reading Thinking In Pictures, I feel I understand autism better through her eyes. She has said that she doesn’t mind being au- tistic. She has lots of strengths that outweigh her weaknesses, and she feels that autism is part of who she is. I had heard that Albert Einstein might have been on the autism spectrum. Most peo- ple I know who are autistic are not like him or Temple. Temple’s family was very supportive of her special needs and did a lot to help. Her mother went to the schools to talk to her teachers and inform them of how to deal with her needs. She asked the teachers to tell the other children about her disabilities and Courthouse Braden G. CIP Bloomington

special needs so they would be more understanding. Temple always wanted to be hugged because she liked the pressure, however when someone actually hugged her she became overwhelmed and jerked away. Before she developed her squeeze machine she would get wrapped up in blankets and go under the sofa cushions because the pressure felt good. One time when she visited her Aunt Ann in Arizona at her ranch, she convinced her aunt to press the side panels of a cattle chute against her. Temple had observed that cattle relaxed in those conditions and she wanted to try it. Eventually she developed a machine to relax autistic people. A lot of people would think this weird but Temple’s aunt had learned to listen to her ideas.

ReFrame – Art & Literary Magazine, vol.1 19 Untitled Arbor P. Ashley P. CIP Berkeley Praise be to Ecce Homo, in spite of suspected sacrilege and slander On Ode To Our Sacred Simian Savior shall send our souls to salvation. Ecce Homo Leah S. A famed fresco; is it fine or failed? The byproduct of botched hand… CIP Amherst a flippant philosophy? Or unintentional unsung Understanding? With eyes like black olives, slammed into a squished skull, Hair like a bloodstained bathroom rug, skin like a dirty potato, the world may Weep for Monkey Jesus.

“A masterpiece ruined!” “A religion satirized!”

But a few of us have seen the light, the cracks of genius that shine through His Murky façade of amateur brush strokes…this blessed bonobo.

The contours of His face are framed in soul crushing sadness, for this Nazarene Neanderthal must bear the sins of Homo Sapiens while looking like Homo Erectus.

But He has seen so much suffering that His mouth has atrophied… He can no longer accept our 15 offerings of holy bananas.

Academics argue on His holy appearance… Was Our Lord peach? Was He olive? Was He ebony? But for all we know, he may very well have been a carpenter chimpanzee.

Some dedicated devotees proclaim that our Simian Savior is an affront to the Lord Himself. But perhaps they are so preoccupied with their personal Image of God that they procrastinate on purveying His proclamations: “Thou shalt not make unto thee any grave image, or any likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth.”

ReFrame – Art & Literary Magazine, vol.1 21 Danny Trejo has always been my favor- The Life of ite veteran actor for many interesting reasons. He has always been in a lot of my favorite genre of film. The charac- Danny Trejo ters he has played on screen are usually Gabe M. convicts, criminals, drug dealers, killers etc. I have always loved those kinds of CIP Long Beach characters on film because I can relate to them. The reason I can relate to them is be- cause they have problems in their lives that are controlling them in a really bad and negative way. I was also like this but in a different way. I had people and events in my life that I was really angry about having to spend time with them or having to experience them. I just wanted to get rid of them in a way that I would never have to deal with them again. To simply put it, hurt them the way they hurt me because they actually had hurt me in ways that they didn’t even know about and weren’t even aware that they were doing it. We both loved hip-hop as our favorite genre of music. Danny and I have a lot in common. One thing we have in common is we were both born in California. As we got older we were both reckless and rebellious. We both hated authority and rules so much that there were times where it got so ugly that the police had to show up. We also had the same mentality when it came to people whom we didn’t like or whom we didn’t get along with. As a result of that we were both locked up; Danny in pris- on, me in a hospital. While he was in prison in Danny and I have come the darkest walls of humanity, he was thinking really far as opposed about how he could turn his life around. to where we were... When in prison, he eventually took up boxing and practiced fighting and sparring in the gym. While he was doing that one of his cellmates was actually working on a film and watching Danny box gave him an idea. Because the movie he was working on was a fight movie he decided to cast Danny as the antagonist of the movie. Little did Danny know that working on this film would actually be the beginning of his acting career. Since then he’s been in about a billion films most recently and notably Machete, his first film playing the lead role. Recently, I’ve also had my turning point in my life. I came to this program called C.I.P. and through it, just like with Danny, I’ve learned that I can still be the same kind of person that I am but in a much better way. For instance, there are people here who I’m not particularly fond of because we don’t have the same interests, we don’t have the same Dancing with Light Stacy S. CIP Bloomington

mentality, and overall I find them to be extremely out there in a very freaky way. At first it was really hard to be around them during the first term but as the summer term came they just came off as a lot less frustrating, annoying and irritating than when they were during my first semester. To simply put it, I just got used to them despite their incompetence. I also have been showing my softer side a lot more often as well, which is great because I’ve always wanted to be in a relationship with a girl and I honestly truly believe that I am one step closer as a result of that. In closing, Danny and I have come really far from where we were in the early stages of our lives and both have amazing stories that are bound to impress people if we were invited someplace to share our life stories and our testimonies. Like Danny, I’ve always loved action movies and Danny has been in billions of those films. To simply put it, Danny Trejo is the best action star alive.

ReFrame – Art & Literary Magazine, vol.1 23 Weathered and Young Ellen O. CIP Berkshire

His hands are weathered and gashed, but strong. he stokes the fire, almost carelessly, tossing in the pieces of wood, feeding the stove, the wood stove is a needed danger, for the man is almost always slipping, further gashing his hands, because of his zest for routine and for warmth. “You tell me you feel the fresh aches your aged body gives you, so why do you not take better care?” “I feel my aches belatedly” is his stubborn and oblivious reply, and I know he is still young in heart and mind.

Blue Roses Daniel V. E. Blue roses sit on peach-yellow sills. CIP Brevard Green leaves bask in white sunlight. The morning sun wakes up the land. The clouds are like the wool of a lamb. Pink tulips rise from brown earth. They make the task seem easy.

Blue roses sit on peach-yellow sills. Green leaves bask in white sunlight. The evening moon is behind the clouds. It hides and plays like a clown. The day sun will return. The bright, basking light will be real.

Blue roses sit on peach-yellow sills. Green leaves bask in white sunlight. Self-Portrait Ethan M. CIP Berkshire

ReFrame – Art & Literary Magazine, vol.1 25 Simba and Nala Merritt W. CIP Long Beach

The Ultimate Weapon There is a powerful weapon in the world of Good which can be used for good or evil. Every living creature has it. and Evil It can make the strong weak. Jarrett S. It can make the weak strong. CIP Brevard It can cause passion and healing or be a tool of evil. It can cleanse the body and bring forth change or be a lethal poison. The ultimate weapon of good and evil is the human heart. Poem Robert B. The car’s engine revs CIP Brevard And the tires squirm for traction. Symphony of sound.

He breathes, he lives. He stops, he dies. He will be content as long as He does what is right in God’s eyes.

What’s Really in a Name Ellen O. I am who I am and you are who you are. We go by our preference, CIP Berkshire Be it short or be it full. It is a symbol for our sense of selves. Far be it from others to change this. They have no right, nor a reason, To dictate our identity. Even if we don’t really care what we’re called, Wouldn’t a nagging thought still be? Thus initial introduction, Being an entire concept in itself. By habit, we name who we are Or at least who we want to be known as. I would say my name is Eleanor, If that was who I am. If it wasn’t so, others would know Because we are who we are And we are our names.

ReFrame – Art & Literary Magazine, vol.1 27 Abstract American Sarah R. CIP Amherst

Prickles and Drew: Black Friday Madness Sarah R. CIP Amherst

Today is Black Friday, the day after Thanksgiving in which millions of shoppers across the United States line up along the curbsides outside malls and large stores to get what they think of as the “best bargains and deals of the year.” In sunny Phoenix, Arizona lived sixteen year old Drew and his talking pet hedgehog Prickles. Drew really wanted to get the new release of a video game titled “Fizz Billiards 4” and apparently today was a one day sale event at the Scottsdale Mall, in which everything was 50% off for that one day. Drew had this date scheduled on his calendar. As it ap- proached 4am that Friday, the “beeeep beeeep beeeep” sound of Drew’s alarm clock went off and he threw his body out of his covers got dressed, brushed his teeth and grabbed Prickles off his running wheel in his cage and put him in his carrier. “Ok really Drew, why did you have to disrupt my workout?” ques- Re tioned an angry Prickles. “I have to get ‘Fizz Billards 4’ today. It’s a FRAME new release and there is a one day special where it only costs $10” Drew said frantically. “We have to be there as early as possible or else it may already be gone.” “I don’t think it would be sold out today” Prickles said annoyed. Drew then explained to Prickles, “Are you kidding? It would definitely be sold out if we do not show up early enough.” So Drew then grabbed his car keys, wallet, and the carrier holding Prickles, got into his car, and drove off for the mall. As they got there, the parking lot was filled with tons of cars, and throngs and “Hey you get lost, this throngs of people were lining up in front of the is my game” said the mall. Drew and Prickles ran into the line. Then boy angrily. as the clock struck 5am, the doors opened and everyone stampeded inside. Drew was excited then shouted out “Game World here I come!” “Don’t you mean we?” stated Prickles. “What- ever,” Drew responded. As they got to the Game World store, which was located at the far end of the Mall, the entire store was packed. Drew was searching the entire store for “Fizz Billards 4”, but couldn’t find it, until he encountered the “New Releases” section, which was the only section of the store he had not yet searched amongst. “Yes, ‘Fizz Billards 4’! I’ve finally got it!” He cheerfully shouted with glee. As he grabbed the game, he felt a tug. He looked up and found another boy grabbing it as well. “Hey you get lost, this is my game” said the boy angrily. “Ok, I got this game first” Drew shouted. But then it was too late because the boy scurried off with the game, and Drew tried to follow him as they scrambled around the entire store. As they found out the boy was shoplifting, Prickles jumped out of the carrier and onto the face of the boy, Drew got and paid for the game he desperately wanted, and the other boy got arrested. Wow, what a hectic Black Friday!

ReFrame – Art & Literary Magazine, vol.1 29 The “e” is Long Leah S. CIP Amherst

Leah is an uncommon name, but it is not rare. In that re- spect, I suppose I lucked out. For parents, choosing a name for a child can be a difficult decision; a parent doesn’t want him or her to get lost in a sea of “Chrises” or “Jessicas.” However, a child named “Starlight” or “Nevaeh” might en- dure teasing and dirty looks. I am neutral on my name. I don’t hate it, but I’m not enthusiastic about it either. It’s a name, and I can’t imagine myself with any other. In this day and age of numerous alternate spellings, I make sure to spell out L-E-A-H when ordering coffee at Starbucks. Sometimes I get frustrated at people who think my name Photographs is “Lee,” “Alyiah,” or “Leia,” but I’m okay with spelling it out, because at least it’s only four letters. Isaac F. My dad has told me that part of the reason for being CIP Bloomington “Leah” is that it’s a short name, to make up for my long last name. “Starkweather” is so long that it doesn’t even fit on some tests and forms. If I remember correctly, my mom or another woman in my family wanted to name me “Martha.” Thankfully my aunts Janet and Anne were able to convince my family to name me “Leah” instead. My father and the rest of his siblings were named after other, older members of the Starkweather and Korn (my grandma’s maiden name) families. For example, my dad, John C. Starkweather, was named after my grandpa, John F. Starkweather. My aunts Mary and Janet were named after my grandma’s cousins from the Korn family. My dad did not like being named af- ter my grandpa because it put a large amount of pressure on him to live up to my grandpa’s Greatest Generation pa- triarchal values. In perhaps an act of cultural rebellion, he wanted to give me a name that no one else in the family had, so that I could forge my own identity. Leah is also the name of a prominent woman in the Old Testament, but I couldn’t recall exactly what she did. As many times as it’s been brought up, a person might think I know this story by heart. I’m not the most religious of people, but oth- ers that I meet will gladly recall the story for me. I listen and pre- tend to care. There aren’t many notable famous people with the name “Leah,” or fictional characters ei- ther. For being a “real name,” and not a jumble of letters shaken to- gether by New Age parents des- perately wanting their progeny to stand out, it is relatively unique. I’ve only met 2 other “Leahs” in my life, and neither went to the same school as I did. If I hear someone call out my name, I can be sure that I am not mistaken for someone else. This is probably the most thought I’ve given to the mean- ing and history of my name in a while. I never really thought of it as something special, it was just a part of me. I would never want to change it; I can’t imagine my- self with any other given name. Maybe that’s a good thing then; perhaps this means it fits well. I am Leah.

ReFrame – Art & Literary Magazine, vol.1 31 To Critics Lawrence W. Number all the words you’ve spoken, CIP Brevard Add all the hearts you’ve never broken. Divide a thought by two – no less, Differentiate a guess.

State the domain of a sunrise, Find the vectors crossing night skies, Parametrize your hopes in it, Then see what you think of me!

Tell me you’ve not sought out sages, Wisdom written through the ages, Crafts once known, now lost in time, All locked up in prose or rhyme.

Perhaps I’ll never flee the numbers Even in my golden slumbers. This I do know, more than you: Scorn not words - they’ve power too.

Midnight Comes Midnight comes at noon. The moon veiling the sun’s face. at Noon An omen of change.

Chris K. Brightly dawns the day, CIP Brevard Banishing violet dark. Brightly shines the sun.

Heart to heart, I sing to you. Separated by years And distance and tears. Disneyland Merritt W. CIP Long Beach

It is rewarding to find It is quickening to recognize that someone is a good someone you like, and decent human being, but it is indispensable to view but it is essential yourself as acceptable. It is a delight to discover people who are worthy of respect and admiration and love, but to like yourself. it is vital to believe yourself deserving of these things. For you cannot live in someone else. You cannot find yourself in someone else. You cannot be given a life by someone else. Of all the people you will know in a lifetime, you are the only one you will never leave or lose. To the question of your life, you are the only answer. To the problems of your life, you are the only solution.

– Jo Coudert, “Advice from a Failure” Re FRAME

CIP Locations: • Amherst, NY • Berkeley, CA • Bloomington, IN • Lee, MA • Long Beach, CA • Melbourne, FL

Encouraging and nurturing the creative development www.cipworldwide.org of young adults on Autism Spectrum and with Learning Differences