0 VILLAVOICE COPERTINA 17 aprile 2019.qxp_copertina villavoice 06/06/19 14:22 Pagina 1

American Overseas School of Rome

Villa Voice 2019

Middle AMERICAN OVERSEAS School SCHOOL OF ROME Student Via Cassia 811 00189 Rome, Italy Writing

Telephone +39 06 33 43 81 and Art Fax +39 06 33 26 26 08 E-mail [email protected] Website www.aosr.org 0,1 VILLA VOICE romane 6 giugno 2019.qxp_2018 06/06/19 13:53 Pagina I

The Middle School Villa Voice 2018-2019

AMERICAN OVERSEAS SCHOOL OF ROME MIDDLE SCHOOL LITERARY AND ARTS MAGAZINE

MIDDLE SCHOOL STUDENT WRITING AND ART

EDITOR AND FACULTY ADVISOR MS. NANCY PICCIRILLI

COVER ART FRONT AND BACK, LEA, GRADE 8

SPECIAL THANKS MIDDLE SCHOOL TEACHERS:

MS. HOLLY DANA, MS. KAREN SCARFUTO,

MS. MELISSA SLAVIN

CONGRATULATIONS MIDDLE SCHOOL STUDENT WRITERS AND ARTISTS

HEAD OF SCHOOL MR. MICHAEL CALLAN

SECONDARY PRINCIPAL MR. JUSTIN WALSH

MIDDLE SCHOOL COORDINATOR MS. SARAH ELLYSON

TYPESETTING AND DESIGN AVANTPRINT, GABRIELLA FARINA, RANIERO FRAIEGARI

AMERICAN OVERSEAS SCHOOL OF ROME VIA CASSIA, 811 ROME, ITALY 00189

TELEPHONE +39 06 33 43 81 FAX +39 06 33 26 26 08 EMAIL [email protected] WEBSITE WWW.AOSR.ORG

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Table of Contents

Narratives 1 Soaking in the Summer by Tatev 2 First Impressions by Evan 3 25 Meters by Keaton 4 Wasabi Revenge by Noah 5 The All Terrain Upgrade by Benj 6

Invention Essays 7 Sibling Security by Sadie 8

Poetry 9 Unspoken by Benj and Yali 10 Grounded by Noah and Tatev 10 A Tribute to Ghost, the Novel by Evan & Claire 11 You by Denisa and Emma 11 You Can’t Write a Poem About a Pinata by Francesco, Sofi and Riley 12 You Can’t Write a Poem About a Poem by Maxwell and Alessio 13 You Can’t Write a Poem About a Book by Sadie, Natalia and Gabrielle 14

Humanities Narratives 15 A Stain on the Soul by Yaroslav 16 Was the Sacrifice Worth It? by Bryant 18 Devil’s House by Blair 19 Fighting for Freedom by Ines 22 Protector of Kin by Teagan 24

Poetry 27 You Can’t Write a Poem About a Laptop by Daphne 28 You Can’t Write a Poem About Instagram by Ines 29

Expository Essays & Picture Prompts 31 Out of the Ordinary by Benedetta 32 Born Not Bred by Roberta 34 The Night Fire by Rong 36

Prose & Poetry 37 Endless Expedition by Anson 38 Space in My Heart by Pietro 39 The Dove Will Appear by Annika 40 Lapiz Lazuli by Juliane 41

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IV Shan, grade 6

N ARRATIVES 6 th GRADE

“One was a book thief. The other stole the sky.” The Book Thief

N ARRATIVES 1 Soaking in the Summer into my uncle’s Range Rover and of my brothers mischievous grin. by Tatev start the drive to our summer He is a tiger waiting to pounce on grade 6 house. As we slowly wind through its prey. Within seconds, my brother the streets, my brother tells us has splashed water into my face! I wake up suddenly; my feet are to close the windows because After about two hours, which already touching the floor before villagers have already started the feels like two minutes, we are my brain understands what I am water works. He fears they will all completely and utterly soaked! doing. Somehow, this morning splash water into the car. “How Once the battle is over, we make seems different than all of the do you know?” my mom inquires. our way to the dinner hall. My other mornings. Immediately, I “Because I have done it before!” mom tells us to dry up in the sun. know why: it is summer, and I am my brother replies with laughter. We spend the rest of the day back in my home country of My mom smiles but still proceeds relaxing at the summer house, Armenia for Vartavar. Let’s start to open the window. She wants to eating shawarmas and singing off by saying that Vartavar is my take a picture of the landscape. Beatles songs. When it is time to favorite holiday! Nobody in Suddenly, my brother looks panicked. leave, we pack up and I race to Armenia wants to miss it. In “CLOSE THE WINDOW!” he shrills. the car to get a good spot. We all Armenia, Vardavar is a holiday that But it is too late. Some hooligans say our goodbyes and continue celebrates the transfiguration of splash water into the car. My our singing all the way home. Jesus Christ. But most important, mom absorbs most of the water Within moments of arriving back you get to pour ICE cold water on because she is the closest to the to my grandparents’ house, my each other, and there are NO window. Her face looks surprised, head is on the pillow. I can barely EXCEPTIONS! If you want to and yet it kind of looks like she keep my eyes open. My mom avoid get soaked, you stay at expected it. walks in to check on me. “You indoors. I certainly was not going We finally arrive at our summer know mom, I missed this place,” I to stay home. house where our family’s water tell her. Eager to start the day, I dash war will take place. At this point, we My mom sits on the edge of my downstairs for breakfast. I arrive to are mostly dry and ready for battle. I bed. “Me too,” she replies. “I just the balcony in my grandparents' remember someone carrying a wish I didn’t get splashed house. Grape vines drape on the huge watermelon and the rest is through the window, but I should walls preventing the sun from one long, wet blur. Everyone starts have expected it.” sneaking in. Still half asleep but to go crazy. They run like wild “It is Vardavar after all,” I say, excited, I settle onto the outdoor animals with fear and excitement finishing her thought. I want to sofa and wait for others to wake in their eyes. There is one specific keep talking about the magical up. Specks of light stream in attack that I remember clearly. I events of the day, but fatigue is through the vines and warm me grip a bucket of ice cold water in taking over. as I wait. My brother is still asleep my hands. I slowly approach my My mom gets up and moves because summer is basically his oldest cousin and pour it down toward the door. “Now get to bed. hibernation period. Suddenly I her back! Her mouth drops to the It’s late Tat,” she whispers. And detect a savory scent of salted floor and her eyes roll back into before I can protest, I drift off to pancakes-one of my grandma’s her head. I feel so proud in the sleep with a smile on my face. specialties. Soon, she stands in moment, but that doesn’t last long. the doorway with a platter. I When I turn around, I see a glimpse squeal with delight and grab as Jihoo, grade 6 many pancakes as my hands can hold. I devour them l like a bear that has just discovered an entire honey jar. Now, the family is ready for the fun that is about to unfold. We leave the safety of our house and race down the cobblestone streets. We slip through a narrow passage to get to the car. So far, we manage to stay dry. And yet I glance down at the ground, and there are already some water splashes on the ground. Tamar Tatik, our fruit seller, waves at us and tells me and my brother that we have grown up a lot; this just reminds me that everyone in Yerevan is considered family. We squeeze

2 N ARRATIVES Elizaveta, grade 6

First Impressions by Evan grade 6

I trudged up the driveway to our cousins' house and stumbled onto the doormat like a wounded animal. It had been a long travel day full of cars and planes. My Norwegian aunt and uncle, Ingie and John, welcomed us into their house. It was the first time I had ever seen them in their own home and had always wondered how they lived. Outside, the Norwegian neighborhood was pitch black and cold, but the house was warm and cozy. We dropped our bags in a heap at the door and walked into the living room. On the dining room table in the distance was a delicious plate of “ Salma” (a Norwegian fish) awaiting us. The white plate was lined with strips of orange red salmon, juicy mango, and lime green avocado. My stomach rumbled as saliva filled my dry mouth. My cousins, Thea and Tuva, ran down the spiral stairs to greet us. We hugged and walked into the kitchen to eat. We settled down in the dining room chairs, that were draped in sheep skins, in front of the fire. Their warm house was the perfect place to be after a long day of travel. It was a small, two-story home looking out across a shimmering fjord into Oslo. All of us together were eight people: my aunt, my uncle, Thea and Tuva (my cousins), my parents, my brother and I. We spent the next hour talking about our travels and devouring an orca. I would sit on the rock and imagine a black the delicious dinner. After finishing, it was time to climb and white whale emerging from the foggy surface and into the comfort of a bed. I trudged up the spiral staircase, diving back down to the bottom of the fjord. I would bags in hand, and collapsed onto a pile of blankets. I wait and watch until I became impatient and would fell asleep immediately thinking about tomorrow’s head back to the cabin. I never really spotted one, but adventures in this new country that I had always wanted I liked to think they were still there, gliding underneath to visit because of my family there. I could just picture the surface. my next day in this wonderland. One day, my family and I went on a walk to explore the Our plan was to go on a road trip, across Norway, area. We trotted down the side of the road, trees, from Oslo to Bergen (where we would drop my older plants, glimpse of stunning fjords, all the same until… cousin, Thea, of at college). The eight or nine-hour car “He’s so cute!” I exclaimed abruptly. Along the side ride was a lot, but the extraordinary views made, it all of the road beyond the barbed wire fence stood a worth it. Fjords, mountains, cherry farms and adorable bighorn sheep. His horns were curled up like a like a cottages surrounded us as we drove. I had never been pig's tail. His fur was matted down but soft. I immediately to such a place. fell in love with his adorable face. Everyone stopped Our first stop was a small cozy “ boathouse” looking and waited for me until it was finally time to go. Sadly, over a majestic fjord that glistened like salt crystals. It I walked away from the sweet sheep. was tucked behind rows and rows of juicy, ripe, red Unfortunately a few days later, it was time to move on cherries. We were not sure if we could eat them, but I to the next destination. As we got ready to go, I knew still stuffed my mouth full of these delicious red treats. this boathouse would be one of my cherished memories The “boathouse” matched the rows of cherries with of Norway and time with my family. Now that I had lived their bright red color. It had two queen beds and two a part of my “Norwegian experience” I felt like I had a twins. To remind you, we were eight people which better connection with them. I watched the cherry farm meant two people had to share a twin and an unfortunate disappear in the distance as we pulled down the winding someone (my brother) had to sleep on the couch. road. I looked ahead through the mountain landscape In the morning, I would climb up on to a moss covered and saw excitement as I pictured my next set of memories cliff and look out across the foggy fjord hoping to spot in this incredible country.

N ARRATIVES 3 25 Meters What if he beats me and because rip the goggles off of my face and by Keaton of that, aliens invade the earth? look around at all the ASIJ fans grade 6 What if I tied with him and then that were surrounding me. I am lost in a tiebreaker race only to so ecstatic that I have won the “50 meters left, and the five see a nuke fall on my head? What 200 meter IM. And all the magic swimmers are neck and neck. We If the world exploded because I happened within the final 25 knew from the beginning that this lost? What if... meters. I slowly crawl out of the would be a good race, but this I never got to finish the last pool, and I immediately collapse was unexpected,” the announcer thought because, at that moment, on the deck. I look around in announces. “40 meters left, and my friend Edison walked up amazement at all the people who TIS’s swimmer John Mence is and asked, “Hey, are you ready had rooted for me. They are all pushing ahead!” for your next race?” cheering like crazy. This is truly ‘No, No, No - this can't be “ No,” I replied,“not at all. But I the best day of my life. All these happening I think. I close my just saw your race. Second people had been encouraging fingers and yank water out of the place. That's better than I will me from the sidelines, and they pool. My legs are working double ever get. Who was that kid who would have been so utterly time but to no avail. I start to beat you?” disappointed me if I had given choke on water as I slowly start to “His name is John Mence. He is up. fall behind.’ probably the best swimmer here, I slowly stand up, and I am “35 meters left, and ASIJ’s at the IM’s at least.” immediately attacked by my Keaton Diehl is falling behind! It’s “Then I am in hot water,” I teammates who rush at me like a looking like ASIJ will not win gold mumbled. “What is his PB?” swarm of bees to honey. I am so on the 200 meter IM,” the “ I have no idea, but if I find out, tired that I fall into my friend's announcer reports with a fake, I will let you know. Good luck!!!” arms and let them carry me sad tone in his voice. And with that, he walked off, straight to the pool, where they I could practically hear the oblivious to the anxiety written toss me into the water. disappointment emitting off of the across my face. This time, I don’t even have the crowd and onto me. I could not Two Hours And Fifty Five Minutes energy to crawl out of the pool. I let my whole school, all 2,300 Later. hang on the edge and receive a kids, down. The announcer looks up from the sea full of compliments. I am I know that I only have one last podium. There is evident shock on elated in this moment. And it was chance at winning, so with 25 his face. He announces, “And the all because of the final 25-meter meters left, I put all of my energy winner is...Keaton Diehl!!!” push. into my arms and legs and shoot I am in a state of prostration. I forward with all my strength. I shoot forward like a bullet, and Antonia, grade 6 within seconds, I hit the edge of the pool. I glance up just as the announcer announces the winner. “And the winner of the 200 meter IM is... ” It All Began Three Hours Earlier… I paced the deck of the pool, watching my opponents and teammates as they swam. My first race was coming up soon, and I wanted to know my competition like the back of my hand. I watched as a kid from the Tokyo International School (TIS) won another race. He was about my age but had black hair and was much better than I am at swimming. I was starting to freak out. Little beads of sweat formed on my forehead, and my palms felt as if a slug had slithered all over them. This kid was really good, and I realized that if he qualified for the 200 meter IM, I would have no chance of winning and accomplishing my dream. I began to establish deranged notions and ‘what ifs’.

4 N ARRATIVES Wasabi Revenge by Noah grade 6

3,2,1 GO! I raced off through Sean stood with a calm, plain a blur of trees and grass, but all face for a second or two… and I could see clearly was my then suddenly, his face turned destination: the door of my house. red as a pepper. He panted and As I neared closer and closer to screamed in anguish before the finish line, I sensed that my dashing to the bathroom. When I opponent was far behind. I arrived to the bathroom, I found a thought I had won, only to see a horrifying sight: Sean’s face new blur pass by me and touch was on fire, and he desperately the door. I had lost the race that I attempted to extinguish his pain was so close to winning, and I felt with water. I felt shame. My humiliated. The race was against competitive nature had gotten my friend, Sean, a five year old, the best of me. and I was six! Even at six years After twenty minutes, the pain old, people knew how competitive receded but Sean remained lava I was. I would not live this down. red. He then asked sheepishly if That is when had a thought...a he could have real mint ice sinister thought. cream. I made him a deal: I would My brain was a storm of evil notions serve him up a super sized dish of revenge. “Sean,” I inquired of ice cream IF he never spoke innocently with gritted teeth, “you the “incident” to anyone. The want to go inside and have ice secret has remained ours and cream?” Sean immediately smiled. ours only... until now. He flung the door open and sprinted into the kitchen. When he arrived panting at the counter, Sadie, grade 6 I casually told him that I just had “mint” ice cream. The more my mind carried out each step of my plan, the more I believed it was simply too wicked. But then I would recall what he had done: he had beaten me in a foot race! There was no going back. I reached into the refrigerator and pulled a tube wasabi. Slowly, I squeezed it into a cup; it poured perfectly. When I placed the wasabi on the counter in order to collect the real mint ice cream, Sean didn’t hesitate. His hand swooped into the cup and grabbed half of the wasabi. He licked it all. My mind was bombarded with both happiness and fear.

N ARRATIVES 5 The All-Terrain Upgrade by Benj grade 6

Jingle: that’s what makes it similar to an can push them with the built-in Do you want to keep sitting while all-terrain kart. It can change its handles. Instead of using the you’re doing your errands? wheel form to go down or up handle on the wheel, as we said A fantastic new product for children stairs or ride on an escalator. The earlier, you can use the arrow and parents. weight capacity it holds is two keys to move around. Also the You can ride down the stairs even hundred twenty-two kilograms, chair has built-in footrests that while you’re seated; which is four hundred eighty-nine you can recline - this allows you You can eat in the chair with your pounds. It also gently convulses to lie down and sleep as well. plate completed. to massage you, which you can After testing and testing, we Wheelchairs are now a thing of turn on and off. Instead of a steering have finished our perfect product the past; wheel, you use arrow keys—like and are now selling it in electronic You can ride the chair going slow on a keyboard—to move around. stores around the country. We are or fast. You can travel as fast as a persistent when trying to improve Your chair can recline while you’re fire-blasting jetpack or as slow our invention, so if we receive a drinking your wine; as a tactical tank. Your choice. report about a design flaw in the You can sit in the chair while you’re Through wires and cables, it con- All Terrain Rocking-Chair, we’ll fix on the phone line. nects the arrow keys to the wheels. it. We can’t wait for people of all Do you love sitting and just enjoying You can relax in your chair while ages to enjoy crossing bridges, some simple downtime? Do you only using your fingers to move visit famous monuments or simply dislike doing your errands? Well, around. The tech was made take care of basic errands - all you are not alone. Many people precisely so you are relaxed and while enjoying our invention. We want to be able to relax and comfortable. assure you: you will not regret simultaneously get things done. Why it’s better than the wheelchair: buying this product! Guess what? A new product now The All-Terrain Rocking Chair exists that will allow you to do just can be used by all ages from that!! We -Techo Inc.- invented young to old, and even by the the All-Terrain Rocking Chair disabled and impaired. It is an because we needed a product evolved wheelchair. If an All- that is an improvement of the Terrain Rocking Chair user has average wheelchair and that is trouble moving, someone else helpful to all ages. We have been working on this for months now, and we think it will change the world. With the amazing new Gennaro, grade 6 product, the All-Terrain Rocking Chair, people of all ages can take out the trash and handle other tedious tasks while never leaving the comfort of their chair. How it works: Let’s compare the All-Terrain Rocking Chair to an all-terrain kart. It can change its wheel form to travel across deserts, mountain tops, canyons, and hummocks. We adapted that design to the All-Terrain Rocking Chair, and

6 N ARRATIVES Anita, grade 6

INVENTION ESSAYS 6 th GRADE

“You have been my friend,” replied Charlotte. “That in itself is a tremendous thing.” Charlotte’s Web

7 Sibling Security by Sadie grade 6

Knock, knock, knock… KNOCK, stronger and sturdier than the regular KNOCK, KNOCK… POUND, version of Siblings No More. POUND, POUND! Are you utterly Siblings No More also comes in a variety tired of your brother breaking of different shapes, colors, and sizes to through your door? Do you find meet the needs of the consumer. For yourself infuriated when your example, it comes in solid colors of red, parents invade your privacy? orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, pink, Thankfully, there is now a solution gray, brown, white, etc. It also comes in to this problem - introducing the the following sizes: small with simpler new, Siblings No More. Siblings technology, regular size and a bigger version No More is a lock system that with more advanced technology. There you can attach to your door. This are certain options that are waterproof device is great for a bedroom, and others that are designed for home but other heavy duty versions can security. There are also many different go on the exterior door of your versions that have patterns on it. Siblings house. Does this sound like no more will make your door look like a something you need in your piece of art! home? Consumers should buy Siblings No More is a fantastic way to the new lock system because it keep unwanted people out of your room, keeps unwanted people out of but it is also a great home security their room. Siblings No More will system! If you buy Siblings No More, allow you to the have peace and you will never have to deal with your privacy you deserve. exasperating siblings again! Siblings No More contains many important functions that keeps siblings away. For example, it comes with a camera to put on the outside of your door and a screen to put inside of your room or home. This will allow you to see who is outside your door. Since Siblings No More is voice activated it is very hard to break into. Alessio, grade 6 Additionally, when you close your door, it locks automatically. So if you're in a hurry, don't worry! Also, if you get tired of your current password, you simply repeat your current password to the device. This will allow you to access “settings” to change your password. Now that you know how Siblings No More works, you may want to consider all of the ways this technology can help in your life. First of all, it can keep siblings out of your room. Second of all, parents can use it in their room for privacy and for peace and quiet. Further, families can use an even more robust version of this product for home security. This version is waterproof; it has more advanced technology, and it is

8 I NVENTION E SSAYS Valerio, grade 6

P OETRY 6 th GRADE

“And now here is my secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.” The Little Prince

9 Unspoken by Benj and Yali grade 6

I am almost eleven, and I can do things. I’ve held a guitar and strummed its long strings. I’ve slept in my bed, covered in bold blue sheets. I’ve devoured pies and biscuits and other fine treats. I’ve been to some concerts, watching famous people play. I’ve opened many presents, neatly wrapped for Christmas Day. I’ve seen so many places and traveled everywhere. I’ve eaten dinner at my table, sitting in my chair. I’ve heard the birds tweeting, singing sweet, joyful tunes. I’ve stood on my balcony, admiring full moons. I’ve had a snowball fight and also tried skiing. I’ve fallen in love and have been sightseeing. Emmett, grade 6 So many things I’ve seen, felt and heard but never I have ever spoken one single word.

Grounded by Noah and Tatev grade 6

I see the planes in the sky That fly effortlessly among the clouds I dream to be above them so high A wisp of a breeze, so gentle yet proud As I think of this, reality sweeps me away Like a harsh storm on a brisk autumn day Until I fall firmly on the ground Reality has a deafening sound Not in this day and age Will I ever soar Will I ever fly Will I ever be able to touch the sky

10 P OETRY A Tribute to Ghost, the Novel by Evan and Claire grade 6

I never talk, I just run You I run like the wind on a restless day by Denisa and Emma Like a cloud of dust dashing away grade 6 As I run, the trees speak to me Encouraging my legs to find the inner me You really are a wonder, Memories that I can’t escape Like a summer storm with thunder. Follow me like a darkened cape You have a shining smile, As I run That stretches miles and miles and miles. The memories of my dad with a gun Chasing me, his own son You’re a rainbow in the dark, To him, I am a ghost But what is strongest is your heart. But I still run. You're the peace instead of war, I run with the trees, the birds and the breeze The happiness in my soul. With myself, my soul and my freedom And yet, I have never spoken a single word You really are a wonder, you see, But like a ghost, I still run. Which is why you’re so special to me.

Giulio, grade 6

P OETRY 11 You Can’t Write a Poem About a Pinata by Francesco, Sofi and Riley grade 6

Mid-noon The best time for Bethany’s birthday party. But one thing is missing... A bold, bright pink pinata

Bethany is wearing her new pink dress Always trying to look her best

The pink pinata finally arrived The children started to come alive Suddenly they started to beat it Candy spilled - and they rushed to eat it.

A strange tradition for sure To beat an animal to the floor So violent I covered my eyes And silently said my goodbyes

But Bethany kept on swinging Sienna, grade 6 And the children just kept on singing Happy Birthday, Bethany!

12 P OETRY You Can’t Write a Poem About a Poem by Maxwell and Alessio grade 6

It’s the middle of the night Thinking of words to write My paper: a lonely blank sheet My assignment must be clever and neat Nothing on my mind The words I cannot find Time is ticking Ideas aren’t sticking… Oh great. It’s now really late.

But wait, what do I see? There’s a poem in front of me.

Evan, grade 6

P OETRY 13 You Can’t Write a Poem About a Book by Sadie, Natalia and Gabrielle grade 6

Midnight Can’t sleep The darkness eats me alive Something is calling my name I glance around and immediately see A book I dive into the dusty pages Suddenly I am on a pirate ship Dark waves rock the boat back and forth As I snap out of the motion I witness a commotion Pirates sword fighting Under a dark starless sky The smell of burning gunpowder fills the air I know I must leave I know this is dangerous But I want to stay I must know what happens next. And THAT is the power of a book.

Sofi, grade 6

14 P OETRY Daniel, grade 7

HUMANITIES NARRATIVES 7 th GRADE

“And the secret garden bloomed and bloomed and every morning revealed new miracles.” The Secret Garden

15 Sabrina, grade 7

A Stain on the Soul by Yaroslav grade 7

The sound of gunfire rings in my ears followed by screams of the Zulu children. I shiver as I look into my smaller brother’s eyes. His eyes are solemn like a gravestone. My heart’s beat is steady and clear. We are ready! We are ready to fight for our language, for our education, and for Zulu. Now it is battle. The tension which built up between these two segregated races for the three decades is about to be expressed. Now it is real. I am Mandla. I am a typical black high schooler just like everyone else in Naledi High. At first glance, you may think that there is nothing special about us. But together we might bring a slight spark of extraordinary and capture the attention of the world. We might spread the story of the Zulu and our fight against racial segregation. It wasn’t always like this. It all began in the 17th century when my ancestors saw ships coming in towards their pier. It was the beginning of what is still happening. The Dutch colonizers on the ships introduced racial segregation. South Africa began to be a mix of different races, have better jobs or even own ethnic bonds, languages, and and universities. The services companies or productions. cultural identities. After that, the provided for us are inferior to the The other apartheid laws were British took over and they continued ones that whites get. Similarly, the Group Areas Act of 1950 and with segregation. Race was and The Bantu Education Act of 1953 Prohibition of Mixed Marriages still is a really important concept. segregated blacks and whites’ Act of 1949. The Group Areas Act Then things got even more serious. education systems. The education decided where we had to live just Racial segregation continued after system used at my school for because of our race. The the beginning of apartheid in Black South African students Prohibition of Mixed Marriages 1948. During apartheid, the doesn’t include math and science; Act stopped people of different government introduced a lot of it is designed to prepare me and races from marrying each other new rules on racial classification. my classmates for lives as a and the Immorality Act of 1950 The whole multiracial country was laboring class. Since 1959, made any sort of relationships divided into four main racial groups: Black, Coloured, and Indian stu- with a person of a different race a whites, blacks, Indians, and colored dents had separate universities. criminal offense. The Reservation people. During the colonization, The universities that existed were of Separate Amenities Act of race was used for the Europeans not allowed to enroll new Black 1953 made the segregation of extravagant mercantilism idea to students. public services legal. Therefore I benefit their economies. Now, That December on the 19th the go to a school which is only for race is still used for economic and ANC held their annual conference. black students. social purposes. White people The ANC planned that next year Blacks and whites also have have the right to vote and be part they would launch an anti-pass separate beaches, buses, hospitals, of the government. Whites can campaign. The PAC instructed its

16 H UMANITIES N ARRATIVES supporters to leave their passes I detested the idea that the of both school set out passing by at home on the day of the campaign government took our language other schools and collecting and gather at police stations away from the new, young students for the march. As we around the country, and be available generation. Many of my teachers march to our center point, the for arrest. The PAC speculated didn’t speak Afrikaans so they Orlando High School, we are that if thousands of people were couldn’t teach us. This affected stopped by the police a couple of arrested, then the jails would be their mood during classes and times but that doesn’t affect the filled and the economy would behavior with the students. My mood of the march at all. We are stop. On the day of the campaign, classmates were also angry singing and holding our signs. a lot of people joined in. They chanted about being forced to learn the Everyone is excited but it is freedom songs and slogans. “enemy's language”. We saw it important for us to stay wary. First, the police declined to arrest as an attempt to make us forget Then the march is halted and one them. By noon, approximately 300 our native languages. A lot of my of the leaders of the march climbs armed policemen faced a crowd teachers got fired for not following on a tractor and asks everyone to of approximately 5000 people. this rule and with every day less stay calm and cool. He announces According to the police, protesters of my classmates appeared in that he has received a report that began to stone them and, without school. My friends and I refused the police is coming for us. He any warning, one of the policemen to learn in Afrikaans. It turned out also tells us to not provoke the panicked and injudiciously opened that we weren’t the only ones. police and not fight. We continue fire. His colleagues also opened Plenty of students agreed with us marching until we got closer to fire which left 69 people dead and repelled against the law and Orlando High School. and 180 seriously wounded. in response, the government shut My mind goes blank as more shots In the 1970s, my family and all of down the schools for a while. So are fired and a white policeman our neighbors were slowly moved that is how we arrived at today’s lobs a teargas canister into the to homelands/bantustans which protest march. front of the crowd. Students start were areas to which most of the Countless students don’t even running wildly in all directions like Blacks population was moved to. know there is a protest march herds of buffalos. Anger grows This was to stop us from living today. For many, it is a usual me in me as I see the innocent with whites and in the urban school day. Today is exam day for dead high schoolers. The anger areas of South Africa. The idea was senior students. My class is to spreads from the front of the to give us our own independent take the exam first. I am scared crowd to the back in a matter of governments, thus denying us that I am going to fail the exam seconds. The anger spreads like protection and any remaining because I will have to write in hay set on fire. I get out matches rights we could have in South Afrikaans. The march saves me and set a car of one of the whites Africa. We became independent from the exams. There is no way, on fire. Other students also light from South Africa. There was no I, Mandla will be missing a protest. vehicles and buildings on fire joy in this independence. We all The leaders of the march mainly which are slowly burning to the knew that this was just a plan to come from my school, Naledi ground. push all of us out and have us High in Naledi, and Morris Fires and incidents with the police isolated from South Africa. It Isaacson in Mofolo. Phefeni High continue into the night. The tough meant that we would have to School is close to the railway sta- and calm Mandla that was in the support ourselves in these areas. tion from which many students morning is slowly starting to fade The homelands’ economies were get off their trains to join the march. away. Tiredness takes over my poor and mostly depended on The plan is that the students from body and a bit of hope appears the whites’ economy. Farming our school are to march from our in my heart was not possible on these lands direction and pick up students No one is the same anymore. This because of the poor agricultural from the schools on the way. The event has left a stain on everyone's soil. Consequently, my parents Morris Isaacson students are to souls. We are part of the long and millions of other Blacks had do the same until we meet in the story that began with my great to start leaving the homelands middle. great great grandfather and the daily and work in mines or for My classmates and I are the first colonizers. We are part of history. White farmers. ones to arrive at school this We let the whites and the whole Most recently, in 1976, The Bantu morning. The mood amongst us world know that we will fight Education enforced a law which is joyful and lively. The principal for our language, culture, and required secondary education to supports us and wishes us luck. education. There is hope for be taught only in Afrikaans. The leaders of the march inform freedom in every one of us; we Teachers weren’t allowed to everyone again that this is a just have to persevere. teach in English or any of the peaceful march. The same native languages. Everyone in assembly is held at Morris my school was fuming with anger. Isaacson and then the students

H UMANITIES N ARRATIVES 17 Was the Sacrifice Really Worth It? by Bryant grade 7

The tear gas chokes my lungs this. I used to live in a nice house Then they would have to arrest and obscures my vision. As I push near the city center, but now I live thousands of us, and this would be through the crowd I grab Arnos’ much farther away. The living very hard. arm and try to protect my face with conditions are so poor. The Pass We all gathered around the police my shirt. The planes roar above Law is what we are protesting; this station. There where so many of and the sound makes my ears law requires all black South us. I later learned there were ring. I see the Afrikaner police Africans to carry our passes where around 20,000 people. When we standing in a line, rifles gleaming in ever we go and if you do not do started marching toward the police the harsh African sunlight. The this you will be beaten. One time. I station, I could already see the protest to the police station was was late to work and I forgot my police standing in a line waiting. not going well. My ears are ringing. pass. I was beaten and questioned. We started protesting by burning That's when I hear the bang of rifle My friend Marzo has also been our passes and ripping them up. fire and the pop of machine guns. beaten and arrested for not having People were screeching and Arno falls and does not get up. I let his pass.There are so many laws yelling. I was scared, and I out a shrill cry as I feel a sharp pain and regulations we have to live by, wanted to leave. However, then I in my leg. I turn and run… and the punishments for not doing remembered why I was there and My name is Thato. I’m a black these things are harsh. surged on. Later in the protest, South African, and this is why I A couple of weeks ago, I overheard they started driving us back with marched. For as long as I can my father talking about a protest. I large armored trucks and throwing remember, I have had to live under waited in my bedroom as I heard tear gas. I’m assuming we were the effects of apartheid. Apartheid my father talking. My hands too violent because that's when started in 1948 and has been started sweating and my fists they opened fire. restraining and demoralizing were clenched. I wanted in. I was So here I am. And now,my friend colored South Africans for many tired of being treated like an animal has fallen. I feel a bullet penetrate years. There are many laws to and less than the white South my leg. The tear gas chokes my keep us away from white South Africans, and I was going to do mouth as I try to run away. I try to Africans. One such law is the something about it. I had often find my father, but the tear gas reservation of the separation act yearn to make a difference, so I obscures my vision. The planes flit that segregates colored and decided then and there I would and dart above me like birds as I whites. march. At that moment, I did not fade into the darkness. I have felt the effects of this act understand the consequences of I wake up in a hospital and see many times. Water fountains are marching. my leg bandaged. I read the now separated, and schools are I couldn't wait for the morning of newspaper on my lap it reads 69 now separated. One time, I had to the protest. Pressure had increased, dead and 180 wounded in the walk many miles just to get a drink and the African National Congress Sharpeville massacre. Was it really of water. Our school is so much (ANC) has been spearheading worth it? This massacre brought farther away and has less and the fight against racism and endless pain, a state of emergency worse equipment than the white discrimination.The Pan Africanist and hundreds arrested. school. The population registration Congress (PAC) has been Organizations were shut down. law required all people to be pressuring people to participate This is my life: miner, protester, examined and to be classified in protest just like this one, and activist. I am South African. as colored or white. This act they protested racism and injustice, has affected my family and too. They posted posters and other families because it handed out flyers and told people inconveniences us so much to not to go to work the day of the constantly get mandatory hair protest. checks that don't even show The protest started around mid- anything and are constantly noon; I felt a pang of fear, but unreliable. The Group Areas Act that fear was soon replaced by required all colored people to be anticipation. I couldn't wait to relocated into townships which are protest the unfair Pass Law. The poor slums on the outskirts of plan was to go and protest town. without our passes, so they I have been greatly affected by would have to arrest us.

18 H UMANITIES N ARRATIVES Devil’s House by Blair grade 7

I hear the dreadful sound of my little longer. “Bawaajige can I ask program differently? Would Mr. mother’s screams as the soldiers you a question?” Davin have changed his vision barge into our house and wrench “Sure, but after we finish our if his kids were the ones being us from the comforting arms of chores Waabizi,i” she answers in forced to go to these schools and our parents. My dad grabs me, a soft quiet tone. “Get to work.” work? Probably. More importantly, but one guard slams him to the I begin mopping the floors, but I can’t stop thinking about why ground. I see the horrible sight of my mind is spinning with facts churches, religious institutions, blood dripping from his mouth as about my dream and how these would be willing to fund these they drag us outside. A pang of schools came to be. Over the past schools if they knew the pain we fear drags down my spine like a few months we’ve learned how Mr. go through being torn away from hundred sharp knives. A look of Davin, a Canadian journalist, was our families in these cold, loveless, defeat flashes across all of our appointed in 1879 by the Prime harsh boarding schools. eyes. As they begin to lead us Minister, John A. Macdonald, to As I finish my morning routine, Mr. from the house, I feel the devil in travel to the US to learn about Smith looks over my work and the dark corner laughing and “Indian” integration. I wonder gives me a cold nod of approval, staring straight at me. I try to fight what Mr. Davin really saw on his indicating that I can finally go to loose from the tight grip of the journey to the US. I wonder what lunch. A few minutes later, I silently soldiers, but they are just to he really observed and learned pass through the food line, grab strong and... about their residential schools. a bowl of the same watery, tasteless “Waabizii, wake up it’s time for Did he really see the suffering soup we have everyday. At least chores,” my sister tells me. My that we experience every day? I today I got two meatballs and one eyes feel heavy, and don’t want to don’t know if I really want the carrot. Must be my lucky day! I open them. Slowly I wake, and I answers to these questions. finally find a seat in the corner by struggle to get my bearings. I sit As I begin to make my bed and the lone heater. up, swing my feet to the cold floor tidy my few things, I keep hearing As I sit eating my soup, I look and put my head in my hand and my teacher’s solemn voice as he over the book for my next class; it mumble, “I hate this place.” It’s describes the importance of the contains the history of our school been two years since they tore education, religious teachings and and explains the laws justifying me from my family and left me assimilation provided through this its existence. I ponder over these here. Yes, they left me here, in my program. laws and try to understand if they own little hell named the Mohawk “Assimilation?” I am still trying to really justify these schools, but I Institute Residential School. This understand that word, but aren’t can’t really understand what the place is the Devil’s house. I have I already a Canadian? I guess government is saying. I find myself been in this same nondescript, not, according to his lectures, getting angry, and thinking back cold, lifeless room since the night which always tell us, with passion to when my fifth grade teacher I moved here in 1919. in his voice, of all the wonderful told us that years before Mr.Davin All of a sudden I hear a soft, benefits this program would went to America, the government comforting voice say, “Waabizii provide to young natives and to decided to pass a law stating that are you ok?” It’s my older sister. society. every Indigenous child was “It looked like you were having a My mind returns to the present, required to go to these schools. I nightmare.” as I realize that my hands are wonder if these schools existed I look out the window and see hurting. I look down and see my before the law was enacted. the harsh, cold brutal Canadian tender knuckles, still bloody from What really happened to the first winter. “ Yes I am fine, just a bad the harsh chemicals and these students who were forced to dream, don’t worry about it,” I endless hours of scrubbing. I am leave their families to attend respond. I drag my fingers curious whether or not my teachers these schools? How did they through my hair and fight the have ever thought about the manage the pain? How were they urge to cry. harsh life we are living, and why treated? Did the government tell “Oh, ok well we need to get we silently hate this place. I the teachers to only tell us the working before we get in trouble,” guess not. I chuckle to myself. positive sides of these schools, my sister tells me. She then folds The answers would be too simple. and did they leave out the the blanket at the bottom of her I mean, we have been torn from attempt to try and demolish our bed and turns to check her our families and told we are no native culture? Most importantly, things. longer allowed to practice our did their parents ever visit? Oh I linger in the warmth of bed a ways. So why would they see this how I miss Mom and Dad.

H UMANITIES N ARRATIVES 19 As the bell rings, I am brought the teachers and government. I Our punishment was lashing for back to the pages in front of me, don’t think so, but I do know that the older girls, which we all had and I see everyone in a rush like for the first few months, all of the to watch, and no food for two bees trying to get to class. I close girls in my dorm would stay up days. I guess we learned our my book, quickly put my tray extra late to play our native game lesson because after that we away and rush to class. Once and speak our language. alway followed the rules. I’m seated, I wonder what the Perhaps this was our way of As I arrive at my dorm, I notice punishments were like for the first rebelling. It was so fun to think of that the sun is beginning to set. group of students? I know that if all the memories I had of playing It’s time to start our nightly routine we are late to class two or more these games with friends, my of showering, combing hair and times a week, we get hit or new family. This all ended when brushing teeth, and getting into whipped. As the class begins, one night, the headmaster bed. I walk into the room, and my my mind starts to focus on the caught us playing our games sister is sitting on her bed with a teachers voice but a little part of and was outraged. I can still journal open. I quietly make my me just wants to yell out “Do you remember the anger boiling up in way over to her bed, and she ever think about how we feel his face, and I can even imagine seems a little shocked to see me. living here?” I know that if I were steam coming out from his ears. I gently sit down and silence fills to ask that, I would be sent to the Headmaster and punished. It is Fabrizio, grade 7 not worth the lashings. For the rest of school, I can hardly focus on what we are learning. I have so many thoughts and questions about residential schools that I start to zone out. But then suddenly, a sharp pain spreads across my hand. I realize that my teacher is staring coldly down at me; he scolds me for not answering his question. I quietly apologize and drop my eyes. As he turns to continue his lecture, I try to rub the pain away, but it lingers. Once class is finished, I quickly exit the door and find a place where I can catch my breath. I am so angry. The thought of the lives of all of the children like me flash into my mind. Would other children stand against this brutality? Would their parents do something about this if they actually knew? Maybe, but who knows. I remember hearing something about parents making villages of tent and tepis outside the gates of the school so that at least, they felt close to their children. I also heard that guards prevented them from getting too close to us. I guess they have their own rules to follow. That’s too bad. Walking back to my room, I continue to wonder if the kids before me ever rebelled against

20 H UMANITIES N ARRATIVES the room. Finally, she breaks the remember her parents and the chance to ask anything else the silence. “This is mom’s journal,” language. It helped he cope with Head Master comes in and tells she explains in a sad tone. “She her feelings and fear. The writing us lights out. gave it to me right before we were gave her freedom from this prison. I quickly return the journal, and taken. She secretly kept it while My sister hands me the journal. my sister hides it under her she was here, and now it’s my “So if you miss her, you can mattress. “I am going to do it,” I closet memory of her.” always read this. You can even declare. “I am going to start Sis, can I ask you a question that start your own journal; we just writing. Thank you for telling me I wanted to earlier?” My voice need to keep it hidden in our about mom, and thank you for sounds shaky. books,” she says. “These books showing me a way to hold onto “What do you need?” will be our rebellion, our ability to hope. I love you!” “How did mom cope with the pain remember who we are, where we My sister smiles. “Me too, little and suffering she had?” I ask. come from, and the family we one,” she whispers. “Me too.” I “Mom had a very hard time represent.” I feel the worn leather return her smile as a soft darkness coping with the struggles and in my hands, but before I have a overtakes the room. pain of being thrown into this school. She was sad, angry, Milos, grade 7 depressed, and so she barely ever talked to anyone. She used this journal to write down all of her thoughts and feelings, so she could express them,” my sister explains in a calm tone. “She found that writing was a passion of hers. She could express anything she wanted in the way she wanted. Mom wrote countless papers while she was at Residential School so instead of focusing on the bad side of her life she focused on the positive. She would focus on things like how she finally met a friend or how she was picking up the new language quickly but also studying her native language too.” “So mom focused on the good not the bad?” I ask puzzled. “Yes,” (NAME) continues. “She wanted to capture her experien- ces. Like when she missed her parents or her old life, or when she was mad. She would recall happier times and them reread the stories, and this would help her to feel safe. I guess writing helped mom to manage the pain but in a good way.” I return to my own my bed with a new perspective. Even before my mom finally became civilized and returned home, she always found a way to stay positive through her journal. Writing helped her to

H UMANITIES N ARRATIVES 21 Fighting for Freedom by Ines grade 7 Lucia, grade 7 The light seeps through the narrow wood walls as the sun bursts above the tall rolling hills. From outside our small house, I hear voices coming from the village. The voices gradually get loud and louder. As the shouts escalate, I realize why people are screaming. Today is the day. The day of the North-west Rebellion. Suddenly, my thin, scrawny blanket doesn't feel so comforting. I climb out of my cot, trying not to wake up Migizi or my mother. My father is already at work. The moment my bare feet touch the cold wood floor, a shiver runs down my spine and doesn’t stop until I pull on my dark uniform. I step out of our home and the crisp Canadian breeze pinches at my face, making me squint as I walk to the village. The long walk from our small house to Matchitehew gives me time to think about the looks that I know I will receive, what people will think when they see a female Mètis militant. But instead, as soon as I reach the small town, I am sur- rounded by people with hopeful eyes. There is something else in the air: something strong and powerful. The feeling of freedom. It all began three years ago, after my return from the abhorrent residential school in Joussard. Coming back was difficult. My family’s gaping hole had been filled in, but the residential schools worrying, but I couldn’t help but be enemy. had stripped away as much of my confused. When I was attending All of this infuriated me. The aboriginal self as they could. the residential schools, the nuns protective bulwark that helped Speaking my aboriginal language convinced us that assimilation spare me from all these problems was forbidden at the residential would help us, the natives, that was receding and so was my schools, and being caught doing the European colonizers were patience. My head ached as I it would lead to being violently hit civilizing and educating us. But considered how disruptive these with a ruler. But even with my lack after leaving the sickening schools, problems had become to my of indigenous tongue, I could everyone in my village knew the family and people. detect concern in my parents’ truth and contradicted what they Over time, my courage reached hushed voices. said. The residential schools the point when I could finally ask Their conversations about our were now brainwashing facilities; my mother what was going on. food and buffalo shortages were the Canadians were our worst She set me next to her on the

22 H UMANITIES N ARRATIVES rugged floor. Her eyes sparkled now, everyone is equipped and with a thin layer of tears as she ready. squeezed my hand firmly. The leather of the saddle feels Hesitantly, the pained words came coarse and rugged in my shaking out of her mouth. She told me about hands. I look up and hear Riel the discernible inequality between shrilly screaming something, us Mètis people and the cruel but I can’t make it out over the Canadians. The Mètis had been commotion. People start to settle trying to have political representation down and Riel says it again. He for years but we were evidently tells us that enough is enough, ignored. Nothing worked, from we are equal to them, and the petitions to marches, it was all wall separating us from them hopeless. crumbling. Everybody repeats All of this continued until last this, our voices filled with passion year’s early fall when Louis and rage. Now I know that whether Riel returned. He had been or not we succeed, I am surrounded brought back by the Mètis of by inspiring leaders and fighters, Saskatchewan from his exile in who fight for our authorization. the United States. With new I lift my hands, hit the reins on my weather came new hope, and horse’s back, and we set out to Riel did everything in his power to reach the justice we deserve. help us Mètis people gain control and power. After our "Revolutionary Bill of Rights" had been neglected, Riel decided to gather an armed group of Mètis rebels to take things to a different level. As soon as I heard about this I knew I wanted to be a part of it. Getting involved in these actions as a young, indigenous woman was ambitious and tough, but I was willing to do anything to help my people. I asked Father to help and support me and after a lot of persuasions, he met with Riel. That night, my father came home with a jubilant air and a proud look on his face. Riel had agreed to allow me to become the first female Mètis militant. That brings us back here. My eyes scan through the crowd, observing familiar and unfamiliar faces. I see the people around me climbing on horses of different breeds and colors. I find the one nearest to me. His fur is dark and slick and he looks just as ready as everyone else. I grip the saddle firmly and hoist myself up. By

H UMANITIES N ARRATIVES 23 Protector of Kin by Teagan grade 7

Throughout history there have happen at the protest, even and cry out the words that are been countless massacres - though it has every intention of fiercely resonating throughout the countless brutal slaughters of being peaceful, but cave when I air, “Izwe lethu!” (our country). I undefended humans. And now, see Umkandeli’s face. A hopeful, don’t notice Umkandeli’s agile one is going to happen in wistful expression has taken over form darting off into the crowd Sharpeville. On March 21, 1960, his face. I tweak his ear and nod until it’s too late. The crowd blood will be shed. I am Phikisa, at him with a wide smile. instantly swallows him, obscuring a brother, a protector, a believer Umkandeli lets out a holler of my view of him. I rush after him, of many things, and this is my delight, but clamps his hands screaming his name, but the story. over his mouth when Mother shoots sound is lost in the sea of voices. Sweat trickles down my face as I him a fierce look. He then proceeds Suddenly, the crowd pulls back in rush through the daily tasks, lest I to whisper shout his elation and front of me, forming a path, and not have them complete before I silently pumps his fists in the air. my eyes find UmkandeliI. I bolt have to leave. Today, March 21, After so much hardship, his flame over to him and hug him to my 1960, we, members of PAC - still burns brightly, unlike many’s. chest, my arms forming a protective otherwise known as the Pan Turning my mind back to the task wall around him. He looks up at Africanist Congress - will fight for at hand, I tell Umkandeli to get me and winks, prompting me to a sliver of our freedom, out of the his passbook, as I wasn’t about to open my mouth to give him a whole that has been stolen from us let him get arrested, or go into good scolding. However, my by the South African government. any jail. The idea of my slight, words are drowned out by a rapid Today, we will take one more step fragile brother in jail was banging noise, before Hell is toward abolishing the pass unbearable, and it caused my unleashed on Earth. system. We will take one more heart to lurch. Even just a day in At first, I think the sound is step toward ending Apartheid in a jail cell would crush him and his firecrackers, not a promise of South Africa, however small a fantasy, dream-like bubble. death itself. Next are the screams. step this may be. The plan is However, I knew that I would They are blood curdling, bone simple, yet ingenious. We are survive; there was no other chilling, howls of pain that raise going to hand in our passbooks choice. I had to stay strong for the hairs on my arms. Jolts from and invite arrest, filling the jails of Mother and Umkandeli. the multitude of people wrench the South African government. Umkandeli flits out of the shack’s Umkandeli from my arms, and The government will be forced to rusted doorway with such then he’s lost in the chaos. I look listen to our demands and get rid swiftness that the dirt streaked at the police, finally figuring out of these passbooks. Passbooks. faces walking past us give what’s happening before me. I wrinkle my nose at the thought Umkandeli a second glance. We They fire round after round at us of the offensive, but so called make our way on foot to the until we drop. A few people next mandatory object that I must police station, covering ground to me stumble, bright crimson carry. They are just another fairly quickly. A huge pack of holes blooming throughout their attempt to control black South people surround the police clothes. One of their hands have Africans, like myself, by dictating station. Glancing up at the sky, I a hole in it, which grins at me like what areas we could enter and observe that the sun is a little a demented fool. A dead fool go through. Ha! As if they could over halfway done with its journey was the exact thing that control where we go. across the sky. I conclude that Umkandeli would become if I My emotions swirl inside me like it’s a little over midday, close to didn’t find him soon. However, a raging storm. They clash vio- when Umnakekeli, a close friend the mass of people have different lently together. I let out a rattling of mine, normally makes his run plans and push against me. I sigh as I wipe my hands on the through town, checking in on his shove through the hysteria, grit- tattered rags of the shirt I’m wea- family. Umnakekeli doesn’t have ting my teeth, but the strength ring. Glancing around me at the a fixed job, which is normal for us and number of the panicked is slum I live in, I duck inside my black South Africans. Instead he too much for me. My feet hit the family’s shack. Inclining my head works odd jobs - jobs normally ground hard, and I make a mad towards Mother, I then look at centered around the urban area dash home, too concerned with Umkandeli, my brother of seven in Sharpeville - in an effort to Umkandeli’s life to worry about years. He grins at me with his make ends fit. Truth to be told, my own. When I get there, all my crooked teeth and impish eyes Umnakekeli makes more money hope evaporates, leaving despair and exclaims, “Today is the day, than most other black South in its wake. Mother and an empty I must say. Today I will go out and Africans, who work on farms and bed are all that greet me. see what Phikisa plays!” I furrow in mines, but are cheaply paid. Refusing to let Mother’s accusing, my brow, wary of what might Umlandeli and I join the throng yet melancholy tinged gaze be

24 H UMANITIES N ARRATIVES Olivia, grade 7 the thing to break me, I flee to the protest site in hopes of finding Umkandelwhich is ripped apart to Umlandeli. Kneeling next to him, I tenderly touch his cold, unfeeling skin. Pulling my hand away, I realize that it’s sticky with blood. Umlandeli’s blood. My stomach lurches, and I claw at the ground, wanting the pain to stop. It tears me apart, both inside and outside of me. I dry heave, having nothing to throw up, and a figure obscures my vision. The figure soon morphs into that of a man with skin the color of snow. So pale, that the sunlight sparkles and dances across it. But that doesn’t matter, as my kin doesn’t discriminate based on skin color, unlike most of his. No, we just lack respect for those who believe in, and support the twisted idea of segregation. They seperate us because of our skin color and brand us inferior. Judge us over something that we have no control over. Yet, this thing, our skin, determines our future; it determines our lives. But that doesn’t matter right now. The only thing that matters is the gun he cocks at me and his uniform. The uniform of a policeman. He doesn’t spit at me, like others of his race sometimes does, but he doesn’t attempt to conceal the disgust in his eyes. He makes a shooing gesture with his hands, as if he’s waving away a fly. I feel living. I leave before the police screams? To see our panic, our ire began to build in me, and I man can kick me again, walking hysteria at our current situation? huddle closer to Umlandeli, on unsteady feet, gagging at the They believed that they could refusing to leave him. The man potent stench of death and blood deny us our final goodbyes to our steps closer to me, and kicks me as I go. loved ones after stealing them sharply in the side, causing me to The trucks came in rows, with from away from us so horrifically cough up blood. Blood dribbles closed coffins stacked on top of . . . after they killed 69 people down my lips, painting them each other. Loved ones lost, but and seriously wounded at least crimson. I glare up at the man, which one was my brother’s? I 180 people. My mind shut down who then shouts something to a searched frantically, my eyes at this even further demonstration nearby building. An answering darting from side to side. My of injustice. I robotically trudged shout echos in return. Glancing chest swelled with even more forward in the crowd, wondering at Umlandeli’s still body, I make a indignation, and my eyes were what my last words to Umlandeli promise to myself to return later. glossy with tears. Was it not were, before all of the hysteria. I It will do me no good if I get enough to kill them, and shoot felt an inkling of tranquility run detained now, and Mother is in them and us down with no through me, knowing that he shock; something that she hasn’t remorse? To fire round after wouldn’t have to suffer through experienced in all my 17 years of round of lead at us and hear our what is to come. He won’t hear of

H UMANITIES N ARRATIVES 25 the news that more than 30,000 banning PAC and ANC - another people marched from Langa to group that works to organize Parliament, and workers in Langa uprisings against Apartheid. Yet and Nyanga went on strike for they failed, as we just went three weeks in protest. He won’t underground and continued our have to experience the South mission. Although, we are starting African government declaring a to become more forceful in our state of emergency, or arresting at approaches - how else are you least 18,000 people and detaining supposed to interact with those around 11,000 people in retaliation whose response to a peaceful for black South Africans’ protests. protest is to shoot at protesters All of these events were the without warning? We did all of this decisions of the South African despite - or perhaps even slightly government, or in protest of them. because of - the passage of the The massacre here at Sharpeville 1960 Unlawful Organizations Act, was just the breaking point and which was passed only a month fueled the fire between us black after the slaughter in Sharpsville. South Africans and the South This law allowed the government African government; it prompted to declare any groups that might these future protests and threaten public order unlawful. demonstrations. In a way, it was However, me, and others in South a turning point, the breaking Africa can tell that this law is just point, especially for those of us something for the government to who lost love ones. The massacre hide behind, a guise. They have here in Sharpeville changed finally opened their eyes and are numerous things, including the starting to see our determination, relationships between black our spirit; the spirit of South South Africans and others, namely Africa. We, the natives of South the police. Africa will not allow laws by the However, Umlandeli will never be white government to deprive us able to feel these things, which is of our natural rights. part of the issue. He won’t be I devote myself to making the able to ever feel the palpable world a less hateful - one that isn’t change in the air, or really ever defined by segregation. A better feel again. I just hope that he world, one where Umlandeli won’t found peace; I hope that the have to wonder when his next other 68 victims will rest in peace meal will be, a meal of scattered too, especially after the way that pieces, barely edible food. Not a they had left this life. Now those perfect world, as such an absolute, of us on Earth, especially those of unfiltered word such as perfect us in South Africa, just have to doesn’t and never will exist find peace. completely. It’s a laughable Belief. That’s what started all of concept in itself, especially as this. My belief in PAC, and my humanity would never allow such brother’s belief and trust in me. a thing. Just as it didn’t let His name, Umlandeli, still rings Umlandeli, a mere child and new out hollow whenever I hear it, to the world, to have a chance to and leaves a pang of longing in actually live. To let him experience my chest. They say that time's all the thrills, the emotions, and supposed to heal you, and that sensations that come from life. In might be true for some, but not the end, everything and everyone for me. Instead, I hear empty, has flaws, but what ties these lonely echos of his voice, and flaws and qualities together are glimpse his lost gaze every night. your decisions and beliefs. This As an attempt to fill this hole, I is what I fight and sacrifice for. now devote my time to PAC. The South Africa government attempted to put down our uprisings by

26 H UMANITIES N ARRATIVES Maya, grade 7

POETRY 7 th GRADE

“In a hole, in the ground, there lived a rabbit.” The Hobbit

27 You Can’t Write a Poem About a Laptop by Daphne grade 7

We navigate the world from our glowing screens Planning out our hopes and dreams Search the web and talk to our friends After a long day, we resort to them

We’re addicted to binary code Staring blankly while our media loads A laptop is simply a machine But to us it is like a human being

We sit at desks and they teach us math Use overused memes to make us laugh Slowly real life memories are erased And eventually they become replaced With screenshots, emojis and empty space

Hours and hours we waste away Consuming both our nights and days Not noticing the sky, so clear and blue Until suddenly, we become machines, too

They own us more than we own them Wishing we were technology free again At the end, we power off “We can live without laptops,” we scoff.

No, we cannot.

Finn, grade 7

28 P OETRY You Can’t Write a Poem About Instagram by Ines grade 7

I rub the darkness from my eyes Lights seeps into my vision Next to me, my phone screams Fabrizio, grade 7 Begging to be picked up My hands wrap around it - excited, shaky My fingers hover over the illuminated logo Instagram

With one click Happiness unfolds in front of me Tropical trips Women, thin and bronzed like bread sticks Friends with white teeth and wide smiles Susie on safari Beth at the beach Mary in the Maldives

The likes pour out Overflowing red hearts Validating the happiness Of these chosen moments

I should feel happy But a pang of jealousy Clicks at my heart

I look at my day - consider my life Is it plain and unwelcoming? Black and White? Heartless? And I can’t help but think Was this worth waiting for? The excitement of each new image. Happiness framed against the reality of life when it is not told through pictures.

P OETRY 29 Mohammad, grade 7

A. J., grade 7

30 P OETRY Aino, grade 7

EXPOSITORY ESSAYS & PICTURE PROMPTS 8 th GRADE

“That is just the way with some people. They get down on a thing when they don’t know nothing about it.” The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn

31 Out of the Ordinary by Benedetta grade 8

“It takes nothing to join the crowd, it takes In fact, in the book The Outsiders, by S.E. Hinton, everything to stand alone.” The quote refers to the idea of growing together and protecting family people who are different, known as outsiders. The is very common. For instance, the Greasers learn term “outsider” is not a commonly used word. It how to protect their family by making their has developed through time in our society. An friends’ lives a priority to them. Dallas Winston, the outsider is a person who is not accepted as part “bad guy,” is seen as a courageous person who of a group or of an organization. As Maya has no real feelings. He has been abandoned by Angelou says: “If you are always trying to be his parents and he acts like he doesn’t care about normal, you will never know how amazing you can anything. Johnny is the “lost puppy,” the weak be.” This refers to the idea of outsiders who see one; his only family is the gang. At the end of the the world from a different perspective. Normally, book, right after Johnny’s death, Dally is shocked outsiders are people who are enclosed, not open by the event that happens. According to Ponyboy, to everything. What makes outsiders unique is “Johnny was the only thing Dally had and now how important family and love are to them. They Johnny was gone” (Hinton 152). The quote confirms find themselves doing the same things and how Dally could never live with the idea that he interacting with the same people. By staying so was dead and how now that Johnny was gone, he close to other people, they praise and admire had nothing to live and fight for. In fact, Dally was each other. What is most important for outsiders is always seen as a strong person with no feelings. their desire to guard and love their family to the Only after Johnny's death, Ponyboy realizes that point where they would do anything to see them Johnny was everything for Dally. The quote also live. In the book The Outsiders, by S.E. Hinton, the demonstrates how people who don’t have a lot of outsiders refer to the Greasers, a gang formed of things in life tend to rely on other people. They young boys who have either lost their parents or create this bond with the other person and only are no longer in contact with them. For this reason, something so severe as death can break their they rely on their friends and gang members love. The gang in the book is very similar to the everyday. Also, in the New York Times article one in Chicago, where outsiders can be seen in “Bored, Broke and Armed,” outsiders refer to the real life. Gangsters Disciples that live in Chicago. By seeing Similarly, in the article “Bored, Broke and Armed,” the world through the eyes of an outsider, we can the idea of outsiders is related to gang members see how vital family and love are, because outsiders who are seen as different and out of the ordinary. have grown together and learned how to rely on Most of the gang members were related to violence each other in any situations. and shootings. What all of these gangs have in

Carlotta, grade 8

32 E XPOSITORY E SSAYS & PICTURE P ROMPTS common is their love towards family and towards something that make you independent. each other. Despite their acts, they are still human Differences can sometimes be associated with beings who don’t have a lot to live on and the only having problems or making mistakes, but the important aspect of their life is their families. A only way to improve yourself is by seeing your member of the gang, Antwin White, states that, mistakes and trying not to commit them again. “After getting shot himself, he resolved to reconcile People are afraid of differences, and we have with his father and lead his son in a better direction” seen this throughout history in the years of the (Eligon 12). The quote expresses how family is Holocaust and racism. People were afraid of other necessary and vital to the gang members. In fact, people who looked different and believed by seeing the mistakes he committed in the past, something different, but if we do not separate he will try not to let his son do the same things he ourselves from someone else, then we will never has done. His desire to lead his son towards a improve ourselves or grow. Samuel Hall Lord healthy and less riskful life shows how outsiders once said, “Do not choose to be wrong for the have learned through their mistakes and will not sake of being different.” In fact, being different commit them again, especially with people they means sometimes appreciating different things. love. Outsiders learn to appreciate every aspect of love Therefore, in both the article and the book, the that we sometimes take for granted. idea of outsiders is expressed by showing the importance of family and friends. By looking at the perspective of these sort of people, we can learn how to appreciate the priorities in our life that include family and the people we love. In addition, we can also learn how to avoid committing the same mistakes and improving ourselves day by day. Everyone has their own origins and everyone should follow what they believe and what they think is vital in life. For outsiders, even though they might seem like diverse people, they are still human beings and they still create lifestyles that revolve around protecting family and demonstrating love. Although many people think that having differences is bad, differences are actually Mila, grade 8

E XPOSITORY E SSAYS & PICTURE P ROMPTS 33 Born not Bred by Roberta grade 8

I am going to tell you the inside be born and never experience scoop of being an outsider. At the the life of an outsider, while others age of five, I was enrolled in an spend their whole lives being an Italian ballet class. Even though I outsider. By seeing the world was Chinese, I was mostly familiar through the eyes of an outsider, with the Italian language and we can learn how life can be Italian people. Listening to people unfair due to being born into a around me speaking in native rough or special living environment. Italian I was able to comprehend Outsiders suffer many problems, their every word, in addition, I could such as poverty, violence, and speak Italian without hesitation. gang life. They may try to change But in that ballet class, seeing the their future and the future of their other girls disappointed expression children and to get rid of the label when they had to talk to me or of an outsider. However it’s not as hearing the girls speak about easy as it may seem. For instance things I could relate with yet I in the article “Bored, Broke and was always never invited to join Armed,” the author John Eligon the conversation. Still, I felt takes a look at the lives of gang disconnected from the class. I members in Chicago. In the article, was different from the other Italian we get a look at an outsider’s girls, I was like an outsider. Just point of view on how life is like. In as I felt like an outsider in my one part of the article, a former ballet class, many other people gang member is introduced. He label themselves as outsiders. talks about his experience in a Many people are born into the gang and how it has caused him life of an outsider instead of to risk his life and risk his son to becoming one. In the book The be left without a father. For that Outsiders, by S.E Hinton, and the reason, he has made the decision article “Bored, Broke and Armed,” to leave the gang, but leaving is by John Eligon, the lives of outsiders not as easy as it seems. He are portrayed. Some people may explains the difficulty of leaving

Bianca, grade 8

34 E XPOSITORY E SSAYS & PICTURE P ROMPTS when he states, “But leaving doesn't like the fact that you have experience it. Multiple outsiders gang life is not simple. For one, to be separated into these have to experience how cruel the just because you say you’re out groups just because of what world is by dealing with issues like of the gang doesn't mean your family you are born into. For that poverty, violence, gang activity, rivals see it that way” (Eligon). reason, Ponyboy and his friend and more. This may seem unfair This is an example of a person who Johnny want to escape this since the reason they have to was born into a gang, surrounded place. Since they are already endure all this trouble is just by violence and poverty. After born as Greasers, they cannot because they were born into an being shot, the guy has realized change their label as outsiders, outsider life, not as a result of the dangers of living in the gang so they think about escaping the their own actions. Even though life, as well as how it can threaten label. Johnny reveals his some outsiders want to become his life and his son's life. thoughts, “It seems like there’s just normal people, it is a hard Therefore, he has decided to gotta be someplace without task for various reasons. Being leave. However, leaving was not greasers or Socs, with just people an outsider doesn’t necessarily easy due to the rivals of the gang just plain people” (Hinton 48). have to be due to a bad living still seeing him as part of the From what Johnny said, we can environment. Sometimes people gang, and still holding grudges to see that from an outsider’s point can feel like an outsider just by him from his past gang life. In of view, being an outsider is being surrounded by a group of addition, his own gang may actually very hard. In the story, people that have different interests become resentful of his actions. Greasers get jumped by Socs, than them. The important thing is Many generations of outsiders they can’t get a high paying job, to always try to understand the have to deal with being stuck in and most of their families are people around you before judging the outsider life since being born abusing or neglecting them. Even or labeling people. into the outsider life means you Ponyboy’s older brother, Darry, is are unlikely to be able to escape labeled as a Greaser even that lifestyle and label. Even so, though he acts like a Soc. Just that doesn't prevent from some because he is born into the life of special outsiders from wanting to a Greaser, so he cannot change change their fate. his label. This shows that outsiders Portrayed in S.E Hinton’s book are unable to change their labels The Outsiders, people are divided no matter how they act since they into two groups: the Socs which were born into the life of an are the rich kids, and the outsiders, outsider. or Greasers, who are the poor All in all, from the eyes of outsiders, kids. The main character, Ponyboy, the world is different from how they

E XPOSITORY E SSAYS & PICTURE P ROMPTS 35 The Night Fire by Rong grade 8

It was between 7 and 8 p.m on the leaves off the benches and Bobby suddenly heard a howling a typical fall evening in started preparing their food for sound to his right. He thought a September. There was a gentle, the night. huge monster was coming cool breeze, the kind that tickles Mark was trying to set a fire by towards him, but he saw nothing the back of your neck and sends putting big wood logs on the there. A wave of wind started to chills throughout your body. bottom and kindling on top. blow his hair to the left side, and In the darkness of the woods, Then, he lit the piles of wood and he saw that the fire was dancing Max, Mark, Anna, and Bobby kindling. The red and orange from right to left, too. were walking. Mark and Anna are colors soon began to light up the As the family watched the fire, it the parents of Bobby, and Max is sky. As he tossed in each log of make them more relaxed and the grandfather of Bobby. wood, the fire became bigger calm because of its warmth. The As the family strolled, they saw and bigger. fire became very huge, and it two benches in the midst of “What are we doing?” Bobby started to sparkle on the left side, darkness. A ray of lights flashing asked. but they didn’t mind at all, through the distance caught their “We are trying to make a wish for because they thought that the attention, and it looked like a today,” his mom replied. bigger the fire became, the more laser beam that might be shot by “But what are we wishing for?” wishes they could make. villains in a movie. They figured that Bobby asked, looking confused. Mark was still sweating all over people might be camping there “Anything, my dear, because we his back from the heat and the already, but as they approached are spending time with our family physical effort he had made to the site, they realized the brightness and having a nice rest in the forest start the fire. Max passed around they saw was from the reflection all together, so you can wish for cookies for everyone to share. of the sunset. anything you want,” Mark As the fire dwindled down, the As Mark, Max and Anna stepped explained. scent of the smoke traveled from on the leaves, they made a So as Max, Mark, Anna and the piles of wood and kindling crunching sound underneath Bobby put hats on their heads and stuck to their clothing. The their feet. Little Bobby wondered that were made out of colorful family waited for the fire to vanish why the leaves made that sound flowers, they started to make a and turn into smoke, hoping their and tried to imitate the others by wish by the fire. As they made problems and suffering would stomping on every leaf in his their own wishes, they heard a disappear once the fire was path. Finally, they reached a crow calling and birds chirping extinguished, and dreaming that deserted place near the border of from the darkness of the forest. their wishes would come true the woods with two benches. The Suddenly, the leaves on the sometime soon. benches were old and rusty, with branches of trees started leaves spread all over because swaying rapidly, and even the not many visitors had come to grass began to move with the this place. The four of them wiped branches.

36 E XPOSITORY E SSAYS & PICTURE P ROMPTS Jingyi, grade 8

PROSE & POETRY 8 th GRADE

“The scariest dragons and the fiercest giants usually turn out to be no more than windmills.” Don Quixote

37 Endless Expedition by Anson grade 8

Conversations float around Trapped in a steel box Sweaty kids Dying to be free Smells, Sights, Sounds, A mixing pot of action Numbing my senses Unaware of the endless cacophony That is going on around me.

The countryside flits by, Like a butterfly in the wind The sun floats above Rays burning through the bus Slowly heating up An inferno of sound and movement

The time ticks by I can hear it As if it is mocking me Each pulse resonating in my skull Like a drum

The chatter continues Like music to the beat Of my tired heart As I try to sleep. Livia, grade 8

38 P ROSE & POETRY Space in My Heart by Pietro grade 8

Me, an insignificant thing, The fish, the snakes, the sharks, Approached the enormous building. Made in my heart a bunch of sparks. I thought that they were kidding. The birds, the turtles, the prawns, I desired this for my entire life, Made me want to stay there, All this movement, all this wildlife. To stare, Till the sun dawns. While I gazed in the streets, The destination was just around the corner, The field trip was fantastic, Genova, My friends and I, ecstatic. So colossal it didn’t have a border. The images, so photographic. The aquarium was enormous. The teachers, too, weren’t bad At least they didn’t make us mad. The waiting was agonizing, It was way worse than a bee sting, When I finally saw the light, And I wouldn’t stop complaining. I let out one big sigh. When the guide finally came, Goodbye aquarium, goodbye marine art, I was looking for someone to blame. Now I have to depart, But you will always find space in my heart. As I stepped in, On my face there was a sudden grin, When the animals started to appear, I began to fear, That I would die of cheer.

Emma, grade 8

P ROSE & POETRY 39 The Dove Will Appear by Annika grade 8

Deep into the night, when all in which was being kept in place by going to chip at the ground the house lay still, she sat on the one of the people’s hands. The around her hole and climb out. balcony. She was leaning clouds moved, changing the And as much as she wanted to against the huge plant pot behind image to of the dove’s wings pull them in to the hole before she her, her head buried in her getting scarred. The bird was her got out, she knew she would hands. She took a deep breath, and the two knives were her regret it. She just cared too much, trying to assure herself that anxiety and depression. She while they cared too little. everything was okay, that nothing chuckled when she saw the bird She looked up to the sky again. happened. disappear into nothingness. She She saw the clouds form a dove But she couldn’t lie to herself. Not believed that even God had again. There were streaks in this time. given up on her. between the wings, making it And she let everything out. She At that moment, she felt a strong seem like scars. But the dove cried in the agony of being lonely, will to live. She was alive, but she was flying. She smiled. She of what everyone said about wasn’t living. She wasn’t alone, hadn’t been given up by God her, of all the tragedies that had but she was lonely. She needed after all. happened to her. Her cries turned herself to drag herself out of the into sobs. Sobs that echoed hole she had dug herself. She through her head, that she was knew that as much as she shouted sure the people in the park in at the people surrounding the front of her house heard. hole, they would not or could not The cold balcony chilled her feet, help. Her friends had extended and the frigid air around her their arms, only to take them didn’t help in keeping her body back. Taking them back in fear of warm. Snot ran down her lips, falling in along with her. She had and she made no move to remove made her decision. She was it whatsoever. All she could do was cry. Alex, grade 8 She thought that life was unfair, and that she didn’t deserve what had happened to her. She moved to wipe the snot off of her face, proceeding to wipe her hands on the balcony floor. She only continued crying while thinking about the gods taking pity on her cries of human grief. She grieved for her old self, for the person she used to be before all kinds of situations messed up her life. She grieved for her friends, her family, and most importantly, herself. She even thought about ending it all. But then called herself an idiot and admitted to being a coward to die. Inside, all she wanted was a sign. Something worth living for. She looked up to the sky, trying to interpret the meanings of the clouds up above. She hoped for a sign from God and she hoped it would be hidden in the clouds. And then, she spotted it. Her sign. It was a dove being trapped between two people. The people were pointing knives at the dove,

40 P ROSE & POETRY Juliane, grade 8

Lapis Lazuli All Around by Juliane grade 8

Starting up the steep trail to the colour lapis lazuli, and the the dark green leaves rustling by Portofino, you notice the ground breeze is fresh like early morning, the slightest movement. is becoming harder to walk on. and there is the slight smell of salt Walking on that steep road feels How much more energy do you in the air. Among all of this, is the like walking on a floor that moves need to put in your legs to push ever so quiet sound of people upward every time you put your you up every few seconds? You panting when they reach the foot down. Though it gradually observe your peers in front of emerald green trees on top of the becomes easier the more you go you, grabbing their icy water with hill. Eyes are darting back and on, the floor never comes down; their sweaty hands. The teachers forth at the sight of the deep blue you simply get used to it. You can stop every few minutes, despite sea. The snow-white foam at the see how the ocean never gets the fact that there are no bare edge of the rocky cliffs is so close tired of creating its waves, and trees to provide shade. At least you can almost touch it, yet so far so, neither do you. One foot in nothing is in the way of the away, like the trees that seem to front of the other, and you get hit magnificent view. But the road stretch far into outer space. The by another wave of beauty. goes on, and so do we. Walking air feels silent and the only thing The infinity sea never forgets to along a shifting platform, you you can hear is the slight ocean surprise you; it always brings new hear the sound of waves striking waves in the distance, colliding things. the rocky cliffs ahead of you. with the steep cliffs. A slight warm The sea is astounding, blue as breeze cuts through the mountains,

P ROSE & POETRY 41 Shea, grade 8

Carter, grade 8

42 P ROSE & POETRY Jingyi, grade 8

“Yours in demigodishness, and all that. PEACE OUT.” Percy Jackson

43 0 VILLAVOICE COPERTINA 17 aprile 2019.qxp_copertina villavoice 06/06/19 14:28 Pagina 1

American Overseas School of Rome

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