Muse of Fire The Colorado Springs School Arts Journal 2020
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Muse of Fire
The Colorado Springs School
Arts Journal
2020
Texts Images
“Poetry,” Rocky Mountain Trout, by Kate Griffin,
by Tiffany Johnston 4 Honorable Mention, Scholastic Art Award 4
“When Everything Changes Overnight,” Raku Pot, by Sam Johnson 6
by Kaylin Patterson 5
“Make the World Great Again,” Linoleum Cut Print, by William Sobral 8
by CiCi Jiang 7
“La Teteria,” Ladybug, by Ty Williams 9
by Tiffany Johnston 10
“Unoka’s Monologue,” Ceramic Set by Clay Roles 10
by Aleksandra Edwards 11
“Matsu’s Journal” (excerpt), Power of Music, by Matthew Pascal 12
by Kyle Jarolimek 13
“An ECS Narrative,” Fused Cut Glass, by Abrielle Stikeleather 15
by Alair Ferguson 14
“Sara’s Story, A Syrian War Diary,” Ceramic Dog Bone Jar, by Ellie Noel 16
by Chloe Lee 17
“Sea Sick,” Multiple Exposure Film, by Aaron Yarros 19
by Carissa Lay 24
“An Epistolary Novella on the Columbian Linoleum Cut Print, by Ellie Noel 23
Civil War,“ by Audrey Barber 25
“Patience, Perfectionism, and Sourdough Bread,” Collagraph Plate and Print,
by Autumn Crow 30 by Wlliam Sobral 28
“Swimming in Plastic,” Learning to Fold Paper, by Matthew Pascal 33
by Madeline Kunstle 34
“Defiance in the Face of Opposition: Hand-built Ceramics, by Ellie Noel 36
The True Necessity,” by Kylie Crow 38
“No Reason, No Change,” Linoleum Reduction Print, by Hayden Hocate 40
by Ty Williams 42
“Reflections on Holding a Tree,” Beecause, by William Sobral 41
by Aadi Nashikkar 47
Front Cover: Gourmet Burger, Triknot, by Matthew Pascal 44
by Bela Martinez
Back Cover: Found Wood with Glass Mirror Acrylic on Canvas, by Autumn Crow 47
and Yarn, by Kylie Crow
3
pOeTry
Tiffany Johnston
Class of 2020
Do not be mistaken.
Reading poetry is no easy feat.
It is a journey through a poet's deepest and darkest thoughts.
Poetry is a person’s soul bled onto tiny white pages,
Their blood colored black, and formed into thin lines.
It is personal in the way only art could be.
Created when someone could not explain their emotions,
So they had to be written down.
It comes from the sweat and tears of a broken whisper,
From the all-consuming darkness in the dead of night.
Reading poetry is exploring the innermost feelings of human existence.
You must lay down all judgment and open your mind before you read.
For it will evoke emotions that you have long since forgotten.
It will force you to question how you see things, and to reflect inwards.
Poetry is a language that all can read, but only a few can understand.
4
When Everything Changes Overnight
Kaylin Patterson
Class of 2021
As my homestay partners and I rushed were going through the same pain. In
home from our university classes in Granada, situa
Spanish and learn more about the fascina
Make The World Great Again
CiCi Jiang
Class of 2020
It is such a tragedy for those who watch the news or read the newspaper
everyday. This becomes even worse for the group of people who can read both
Chinese and English. The overall sense you typically get is that the two
superpowers in the world are devils. I think this is probably right. The mainstream
American journalists and even the president called COVID-19 the “Chinese virus”.
In response, some Chinese media blamed this crisis as originating from an
American laboratory. They gave some alleged evidence to support this hypothesis.
To make matters worse, the U.S. government officials said that China should
compensate the rest of the world for the damage that this “Chinese virus” caused.
At the same time, the speaker of China blamed Americans for not taking effective
steps to stop the spread of the disease and blamed Americans’ ignorant pursuit for
individual liberties. Americans were not scared by Chinese claims; in retaliation,
they simply raised doubt about the death number the Chinese government reported
and even told the public that 21 million Chinese phone accounts were deactivated
as evidence that there was far more death in China due to COVID-19 than the
government reported. China then refuted the validity of the U.S.’s numbers and
claimed they were not truthful since the U.S. was not doing enough testing. The
argument has gone on and on. Each country is using journalists, media, and
government propaganda to attack each other. COVID-19 is still spreading at an
incredible speed. Many people have lost their jobs, the people who they care about,
and even their own lives. What’s worse is this disease is spreading to some
underdeveloped countries where the trauma will be greater.
As someone who has majored in Political Science and studied this very
carefully, I want to propose a fabulous solution that could solve this problem, and
both countries would be content with it. The two superpowers in the world should
start a war. As we know, COVID-19 can spread at a fast speed in a crowded place.
If we start a war, the population will decrease even faster than the sickness would
7
facilitate. With less population density, especially in urban areas, we do not have to
worry too much about spreading the disease to each other. Secondly, COVID-19
poses a huge economic challenge in the world. Since most businesses can not operate
normally, a large number of people are losing a stable source of income. In addition,
both countries’ GDPs are falling, so there is a possibility of each going into an
economic recession. However, a war could easily fix this problem. In a war, a typical
soldier needs food to sustain their basic living, must have at least a handgun and a
bunch of bullets, and a set of uniforms. Between the two countries, we would have at
least 10 million young men to fight on the battlefield. That is 10 million mouths to
feed and bodies to outfit which would certainly support the farmers, processing
plants, transportation companies, and factories in both countries. If the war could last
30 days, at $10 a day in food, because that is all anyone needs when traveling in a
foreign country, plus about $100 for the clothes and arms, we can earn around 4
billion dollars in a single war by exporting the essential equipment to other countries.
With the increase in the export sector, the overall GDP will boost. Thirdly, a war
could foster patriotism in each country. It is well known that people usually will have
a strong sense of patriotism when their country is in a war. The benefits of high
patriotism are obvious. The country will be more united and the government leader
8
could have a good image within the country. This creates greater stability which, in
turn, encourages prosperity.
I read tons of books every day and think there is no man in the world who is
smarter than I. I believe no one will object to this solution. Therefore, no man should
talk to me about other solutions. The two countries should not stop attacking each
other with words to spark further anger. There is simply no way they can respect each
other and try to find a way to work together to slow down the spread of COVID-19.
That is a waste of time and a show of weakness. They should also be sure to avoid
using their technological advancements to try to connect the mobile phone users in
the world and track the spread of the disease. Everyone knows the only reason to do
that is that you want to be a fascist, and no one, even Communists, likes fascists.
They should never cooperate to research COVID-19 vaccine. This would only reduce
the profits that would come from the patenting and selling of the vaccine. They
should obviously avoid giving their citizens a rational view of other countries
because all that can do is to reduce nationalism. Globalization is a terrible idea at this
time; business owners need fewer competitors, not more. No one should work
together to help developing countries who are suffering from COVID-19 as once they
are all sick and dead, we have solved the problem of global poverty.
Therefore, I demand that no one argues against me until he has at least some
glimpse of hope that there will ever be some hearty and sincere attempt to put my
proposal into practice. However, I have to confess, in the sincerity of my heart, that I
strongly support and promote this necessary work. I have no brother to consult and
my oldest cousin is only five years old, but he assures me that I am right.
9
La Teteria
Tiffany Johnston
Class of 2020
The steam rhythmically tumbles over the glass
The heat from the teapot stings your shaking hands.
The strange smells fill your nose as you examine your new surroundings.
People simply sit and talk
There is no work to be done and nowhere to go.
This moment is all that matters.
Faces take a long forgotten shape -- a smile.
The room is quiet yet brimming with a hum, the chatter of old friends.
And somehow this foreign place feels more like home
Than the streets you grew up on.
10Unoka’s Monologue
A Creative Response to Chinua Achebe’s
Things Fall Apart
Aleksandra Edwards
Class of 2023
I staggered painfully toward the clearing in the Evil Forest I’d been left in not minutes
ago, wiping the sweat from my brow with a sigh. I averted my eyes from the decaying
bodies scattered about the thick woods, instead drawing my gaze to the sun to look up at
the light and bright blue sky in which I’d flown so many kites as a boy. I smiled to myself
as I remembered my younger years… those from before responsibilities and family to take
care of plagued my life, before the scornful eyes of the village began following me,
watching me and avoiding me like they do serpents. “Unoka is a lazy, improvident
failure,” they would say. It’s possible they were right. I never paid back a single debt I
owed. Would that fall on Okonkwo now? I hoped that my son would get to experience this
very same peaceful happiness and tranquility, but I see in the way he looks at me that he
has chosen the same path as the rest of our community; they have turned him against me
with their ideals of fame and success. I honestly can’t blame them; I haven’t been the most
present father or the most successful provider, but I’ve had a happier life than the lot of
them combined. I clenched my fist around the flute hanging loosely from my left hand.
Looking down, I studied its sleek curvature and the traces of craters from where it had
been carved so many years ago. This was the source of my happiness. My fingers found
their familiar resting place, feeling at home nestled over the little holes along the flute’s
body. Bringing it slowly to my lips, I cried out in pain with the movement of my swollen
arms. My body seemed to be becoming progressively more inflated as time went on. I
began to blow and listened to the familiar notes ring clear in the otherwise silent Evil
Forest. I lost track of time playing my flute; maybe it was because of the hypnotic state it
put me in, or maybe the sickness had begun affecting my thoughts. If the latter was true, I
hadn’t much time left. I finally let my arms drop and with them the flute, for I couldn’t
hold them up any longer. Maybe I should’ve been more present. It’s possible that I’ve had
life backwards and that everyone else was right. “I should’ve worked harder,” I thought,
remembering Chika’s words from before they dragged me here: “Go home and work like
11a real man,” she had told me. I didn’t. I should’ve made my own money, or at least
made an effort to pay back the enormous debt I owed. I should’ve heeded the
disapproving remarks of the rest of the village. I should’ve taught my son Okonkwo
better. Should I go back? Could I make it back to the village in time to make things
right? But no… that would be fruitless; they’d only bring me back here to die, only
this time they’d tie me to a tree, and the pain would be tenfold what I feel now.
Defeated, I dropped to the ground with a thud, for my legs were so vast I could no
longer bend my knees. I stared at the sky once more, only this time I could see kites.
There were so many kites flying through the sky. I watched them swoop back and
forth, weaving between each other and bending to the cool breeze. A tear escaped the
corner of my eye, and I fell asleep happy, for I knew that I had achieved the one thing
so many of the other villagers hadn’t: pure, overwhelming, enveloping, total bliss.
12“Matsu’s Journal”
(Excerpt)
A Creative Response to
The Samurai’s Garden
Kyle Jarolimek
Class of 2020
October 30th, 1938
Stephen has left, and the house is now empty. I now have more time to spend with Sachi, but I’ll still miss
Stephen after this past year of caring and helping him get back on his feet. I have had a lot of time to reflect.
The sleek train takes off
With a departing son on board
Like a bird it flies off
Life flies by too quickly
But I still love it
As the weather grows cold
And the leaves turn brown
An empty house approaches
And a barren garden too
Now I have only her
Sorrow creeps over me
It is like a virus
Spreading inside of me
Shutting down all my systems
To live is to suffer
13An ECS Narrative
Alair Ferguson
Class of 2021
The dense air smelled of the Indian Ocean as it wafted from the
Mozambique Channel. I could feel my shoulders, warm to the touch, as they
absorbed the sun’s rays deep into their tissue. The small of my back still stung
where a jellyfish had brushed it. Fine white sand covered every inch of my feet.
My group of 15 students laughed as we walked, newly bonded by the wonders of
the “eighth continent” we stood on. We reached a bamboo building in the center of
the rural village. My exhausted muscles surrendered to their fatigue as I collapsed
in a chair and reflected on the circumstances that had led me to that March day.
17 hours on airplanes from Colorado Springs to Washington D.C. to Addis
Ababa to Antananarivo. 14 hours in vans from Antananarivo to Antsirabe to
Morondava, moving Southwest. 2 hours in four by four trucks on dirt roads to the
trailhead. A hike. A canoe ride through an intricate maze of mangroves. And
finally: Kivalo. This was true isolation from the world I knew.
" I recognized that a journey of this distance was something the majority of
the world would never experience. I was fortunate to sit at that table, just as I’ve
been extremely fortunate in my education, born into a family that values learning
above all else. My mother is a professor of cultural anthropology, a career that has
opened doors to travel and education for our family. My father teaches at a small,
independent school that emphasizes experiential education, where I am a student.
The Colorado Springs School has a unique program in its Upper School; each
March, students travel across the state, country, or globe to learn about a topic
through field work rather than conventional classroom techniques. My sophomore
year, I enrolled in the Madagascar: Island of Diversity Experience Centered
Seminar because of my interest in International Relations. I knew nothing about
Madagascar at the time, and it seemed like an intriguing place to further my
international experiences.
" Sitting in Kivalo ten months later, this country had become real to me.
Madagascar lived and breathed in front of my eyes. Time blurred as we ate and
laughed together, and then my classmates went outside to plant mangroves. I
stayed inside with the English to Malagasy translator, Sidonie, to interview the
14council of elders of the village to inform my research paper on ethnic diversity within
Madagascar. Seven elderly men entered the room, and time slowed. The air grew still
around me. This moment was important. I needed to listen. Their answers informed my
research paper, but Sidonie’s translation completely reformed my perception of language’s
relationship to culture.
As the discussion progressed, a pattern unfolded. After I asked a question, Sidonie
pondered it for a few seconds before elapsing into paragraph-sounding explanations of
my ideas, often stumbling and struggling to portray the question in Malagasy. An air of
uncertainty would buzz about the men. Then, the panel would discuss in great depth;
laughing, arguing, moving, shouting, often with side conversations breaking out. The men
would get excited, worked up, their energy bouncing off of one another in perplexing
ways, encouraging my curiosity while still egging on my frustration of not understanding
the inevitable wisdom being passed between comrades. Eventually, it would die down
and they’d all look expectantly at Sidonie. She would rattle off 1-3 sentences summarizing
15their conclusions. The pattern persisted: simple question translated to paragraph,
intense discussion translated to short summary. I knew I was not asking
particularly complex questions; could the concepts really be this difficult to
translate? Was English so different from Malagasy that the fundamental structure
and thought process behind the two languages was incomprehensible to one
another? How different would my understanding of this culture would be if I
could understand Malagasy? What did this language reveal about those who
spoke it? What does English reveal about English-speaking cultures like mine?
" By the time my interview was over, my notes were more covered in
linguistic-cultural questions than they were with the answers to the questions I
had asked. Before this point, my view of language had always been an obstacle to
overcome in order to communicate, never as a means to understand culture on a
deeper level. It had never occurred to me that the structure of a language stems
from the central values of that culture. The questions formed that afternoon
outweighed the answers I could obtain. But they fueled my aspirations to deepen
my studies of language and culture.
16Sara’s Story
A Diary from the Syrian Civil War
Chloe Lee
Class of 2021
May 15, 2016
Today, I sat with Jamal and told him stories about what it was like before the
war. Sometimes I worry about him. I get scared that he won’t know a
life outside of the bombings and the war. Some people in our city tell
stories of their kids who made it to America or Switzerland or even just to
Turkey or Lebanon. They make me want to hope that he could leave or that
we all could. If I do have to go, maybe I will be able to come back. I mean, I
was told that the European countries don’t take many refugees anymore,
so if Mom takes us to Turkey, we will be able to come home. When Aleppo is
rebuilt, I will be able to show Jamal around and take him to the park (just
like Dad did for me. On summer nights when we don’t hear the sounds of
screaming jets, bombs, and gunfire, I could take him outside and show him
the stars and the moon. During the day we can make shapes of the clouds,
and I can show him what Dad never got to. We could watch the way the wind
makes the clouds dance and twirling the sky.
May 20, 2016
Tonight I have been finding it hard to sleep. The buzz of military planes
has been keeping me up. Their sound reminds me of the low hum of the
fluorescent lights from school. The planes are louder. They’re more
annoying, too. Sometimes it seems as if they are talking to each other. I
17haven’t heard any bombs tonight, but I think that the armies are just
waiting to extirpate the city. Sometimes they will wait until just before the
sun starts to rise, and the purple sky is just beginning to lighten. It does
make a pretty sunrise though. After some of the dust and gas clears, the
sky turns a fiery red with orange and yellow clouds. Most mornings, I wake
up with a headache. I'm not really sure why, but it could be the pollution
from the bombs or simply just because it hurts.
May 25, 2016
I don’t think that there’s much left in the city, if you could even call it
that. The once beautiful and majestic buildings have been turned to sand
by the armies. I remember walking through the downtown area of Aleppo
as a kid; the streets were crowded with people and so many of them
looked excited or happy. Now, the streets are crowded with rubble, and
people are no longer happy but grateful to have survived.There isn’t
going to be an end for a very long time.
June 1, 2016
I was looking out the window this morning while I watched the fiery
sunrise and saw a poster of our president. It was stuck against the
remains of an old bedpost fighting the wind. Red X’s covered his eyes, and
the faint letters spelled out “revolution” in all caps.
June 5, 2016
Well, I guess that when I said we'd have to leave before the war was over, I
was right. This morning, Mom told Jamal and me that we would be leaving
for Turkey in the morning. Jamal was ecstatic at the thought of riding in an
airplane, but his excitement faded when he was told that we would have to
take an eight-day walk instead.
1819
June 6, 2016
It feels like my feet are going to fall off. We left before the sunrise
this morning and didn’t stop until it was down. We were able to make it out of
Aleppo, but we heard gunshots and bombs all day. I jumped at almost every
single noise. I thought that I’d be accustomed to sounds of bombs and
crumbling buildings, but the feeling is different when you’re out in the open.
June 9, 2016
We’re about halfway to Turkey, maybe a bit closer, but I am
extremely worried about Jamal. Since the journey began, he has started to
lose weight. His ribs protrude from his sides, and some days he isn't able to
walk. so Mom carries him. Sometimes I try to give him some of my food, but
he doesn't even finish his. Mom says that the journey has been hard on him,
and he’ll be fine once we get to the camp, but I don’t think that I believe her.
He doesn’t have any energy, and he barely ever talks. I really hope that he’ll
be okay, though. So far we’ve traveled almost halfway, and even with Jamal
acting strange, I’m excited. This is a way for us to start over. In the morning I
won't have to wake up to the deserted city built only of rubble and sadness,
go to sleep to the sounds of bombs and heart-shattering explosions, or
have a sole diet of aubergines and courgettes. Instead, I can watch Jamal
while he plays outside, take walks, and make new friends.
June 12, 2016
Mom was wrong about Jamal when we woke up to start walking this
morning, he didn't open his eyes, his small chest didn’t move up and down as
it should, and his heart didn’t beat. He had moved on. I don’t remember most
of the day. I remember Mom having to basically drag me away while I cried,
but the actual walk has been locked away in my head for some reason. I don’t
understand how Mom could just leave him there. I can’t give her too much
20trouble, though, because I know that she’s broken up about it, too, and I
can tell that she has been ruminating about him all day. I could hear her
muffled sobs until she fell asleep, and her face was tear-stained by the time
we stopped, too. We topped early today, but I felt like we were in a slough.
Our day never seemed to end, and the never-ending desert was
unbearable. We haven’t talked at all today. I don’t know what to say to her. I
mean, what is there to say after you’ve lost a family member? What do you
say after losing a second?
June 14, 2016
We made it to a camp in Turkey -- I’m not sure which one though.
Entering the gates was bittersweet. On one hand, we had gotten out,
escaped, survived--lived. On the other, the one person whom I had wanted
to be able to survive the most didn’t. I really cannot explain how much I miss
him. It’s like a part of me is missing. I feel like the desert without sand or the
ocean without salt. I miss his toothless smile and his laugh. I miss the way he
would ask questions and his energy. I miss my brother. It’s like he’s my
missing puzzle piece. I also feel selfish for being thankful that I made it. How
can I be happy for myself when I just lost him? I’m conflicted.
June 20, 2016
Mom and I have been talking more, but we never mention Jamal. It’s
only been a couple of days, but I don’t think we will be talking about it for a
while. Every morning she wakes up and her face is streaked with tear stains,
but she still puts on a smile and takes care of me. I wish I could do the same
for her. We were able to set up a small garden. It looks a lot like the one we
had at home. On the left we planted aubergine seeds and on the right there
are courgettes. I guess this means that I was wrong about no longer eating
them every day. I think that it’s alright, though.
21June 25, 2016
It has been really nice being able to wake up to the noise of people talking
or laughing instead of crumbling buildings and bombs. The people here are
very nice, but you can tell that they have all been through the unremitting
war. We all share similarly-unique traumas and hardships. That’s a little bit
weird for me because I never thought that I would be able to empathize with
someone who had lost a loved one because of anything, but now I do.
16 November, 2018
After almost a year in the refugee camp in Turkey, my Mom was able to
get us citizenship in Genève. Ever since we moved here, I’ve taken up French
and started school again. In class, my teachers constantly say, “Parler en
français s’il-vous-plaît.” I try to speak French as much as possible, but
sometimes it’s hard. Mom doesn’t speak, so I have to be her translator every
time we go out because not many people here speak Arabic. I like it, though,
because I get to practice my French for school. I remember one time we were
out on a walk through the old section of Genève when a man approached
Mom and me. He said, “Madame! Madame! Pardon-moi, mais vous êtes trés
belle.” He then asked for her phone number, but she just looked at him with
a blank face. We sat in awkward silence for a while until I told him that she
didn’t speak French. The man got a kind of sad look on his face but said,
“Ah merci” and walked away. Life in Genève has been good, but I’d be lying if
I said I didn’t miss Syria. Mom told me that we’d go back as soon as it’s safe.
Some parts of this city remind me of Aleppo. They have some old cathedrals
named Saint Pierre Cathedral. It’s kind of like the one at home, but it just
isn’t the same. Not being the same doesn’t mean it’s bad though. There are
so many things here that I wasn’t able to experience in Syria. I mean I’m
bilingual now (kinda), and I get to live a life outside of the war now. In the
year that I’ve been here, I think that I’ve been happier than I would have
been if we stayed. Still, some things haven’t changed. For example, Mom and
22I still live on the lowest floor in an apartment building and still don’t eat meat. I
think that Mom is happy here. I know I am. I always miss Jamal, though. I know
he’d be happy here. There’s a park just a couple of blocks away from
where the schoolchildren will play after their classes end. There’s a small
pastry shop where Mom and I get breakfast, and he’d love their chocolate
croissants. Mom and I are going to the bakery soon, and I think I’ll get one for
myself. The Syrian civil war has affected my life in so many unimaginable ways,
but I’m glad that I made it out and was able to surmount the war in Syria. Some
days here are very hard without Dad and Jamal, but I think that they’d want
us to leave. There was no way we could have stayed in Aleppo: it was too
dangerous. In the end, I think that Mom made the right choice to flee, and
I couldn’t be happier with my new life.
23Sea Sick
Carissa Lay
Class of 2023
A beach house in Malibu we owned was a safe place for me
The memories I have of tracking sand through the house and my brother trying to teach me karate
Or when we took every moving box and built a fort that we slept in
Or when we spilt grape juice on our white cushioned couch
Or when we would fight over the wii and conAn Epistolary Novella on the
Columbian Civil War
Audrey Barber
Class of 2021
18 agosto 1976
Santiago,
It has been months since my last letter was sent, and you have yet to
answer. Our birthday has come and gone, but you will not give me the time of
day. I’m sending this letter because I received some devastating news the other
day. Our village was at the center of another skirmish and several people died.
Ana, our mother, and our sister, Sofiá. were caught in the crossfire and killed.
Our mother and our sister lie dead in the cold grasp of Death because of your
group’s refusal to end this war. My superiors have told me that the FARC
were responsible for what happened. They said that a branch of your group
slaughtered the civilians like pigs! How could you be part of such a horrendous
group? Written words are unable to clearly communicate all of my feelings,
but know that I am furious with you. I can feel all the anger I’d been bottling
up, rise to the surface and sit under my skin. The rage is so close to exploding
because all I can think about is how you killed our mother and sister! They
loved you with every piece of their beings and begged you to not join your
pathetic pack of rage driven beasts! Everyone begged you, but you refused to
listen and instead you’ve killed hundreds. Santiago, I can barely think about
you right now. When I do think of you, all I can see is our family lying dead
nameless in some ditch. All of our friends and family will be lost to some
senseless war that your group instigated and will not end! How can you be
part of the FARC and know that so many have died because of what you’ve
done?
-Gabriel Ramirez
2525 agosto 1976
Because of what I have done?! How dare you blame me for the deaths of
Mama and Sofiá?! We are 21 years old, Gabriel! Grow up and stop blaming things
on me. I was not there and my group would never kill an innocent much less
someone in the group that we are trying to protect. We received reports of an attack
as well, but the whole story is different. Your government is a group of lying
cowards. No one will care if we do a few illegal things here and there because we will
save the whole country in doing so. Your government will be the end of our country
if they are not stopped. They will take somebody from every single person in
Colombia if no one will stand up to them. We have already lost our mother and
sister, but not because of me. It’s you, Gabriel. It is you and what you believe in
that will kill so many people. I don’t know who you are anymore. You are not my
brother. Please don’t ever contact me again.
-Santiago Ramirez
5 octubre 1978
Gabriel,
I’ve decided to reach out to you because I miss you. I thought that I was
resolute in my decision to never contact you again, but I wasn’t. I’m still angry
with you, but it has abated to more of a deep disappointment. Over the last 2 years
since our last letters, I’ve noticed a few things. I was called to a raid in Diciembre
of 1977, but when I arrived on scene I noticed that there were no troops of any
threat there. In fact, everyone appeared to be unarmed. Some of the men gathered
civilians together and began shooting them at random. I was horrified because that
is not what I signed up for. Since then, I’ve been taking mental notes on the ugly
things that I see, and it never fails to make me loathe my life choices. I’ve done
some thinking and I’ve decided that I am going to leave the FARC. I still agree
with their original ideas, but their methods are wretched, and they incite feelings of
hatred. I’ve come to the conclusion that I cannot side with a group that murders
with misery and melancholy. I know you don’t have any reason to keep my flight
a secret, but I am begging you to. I’ve made plans to flee to Brazil and start a new
life there. I am going to write to our father and brother to ask if they wanted to
26join me. I didn’t plan on asking you, but I knew in my heart that I couldn’t do
this without you. We plan to leave on 25 Octubre, so answer me by then. You
may not forgive me, but I just want to know that you are safe. You are my
brother first and foremost, even if I disagree with what you believe. It is an
opinion, so I was wrong to lash out at you. I’m sorry.
Tu hermano,
Santiago Ramirez
5 octubre 1978
Papá,
I have arranged to leave the FARC and flee to Brazil. I have saved up
enough for a property there, and I want you and Matias to come with me. If you
decide to come, meet me in the town of Villavicencio. From there we will follow the
Rio Meta into Brazil. Don’t respond to this, for it is too dangerous.
Te quiero mucho,
Santiago Ramirez
16 octubre 1978
Gabriel,
You haven’t yet answered me. I know you are upset, but please let me
know if you are coming so that I can make the necessary preparations. I’m
begging you to come with me.
-Santiago Ramirez
22 octubre 1978
Saludos Santiago,
You don’t know me, but I was a friend of Gabriel’s. I won’t tell you my
name because it is very dangerous for me to write this letter to you. I only know
of you through the stories Gabriel would tell some of us about his childhood.
Gabriel died 3 Diciembre 1977. One of the officers in our camp grew suspicious of
him and intercepted an epistle that he’d been writing. He gathered everyone he
could, opened the letter, and began reading it in a cruel and taunting voice that
27echoed through the cold silence of the camp. I don’t have a copy of the letter, nor
do I remember it word for word. I do remember that he apologized to you at the
very beginning. He then spoke of how he has become disillusioned with the
government. He wrote that he planned on deserting the troops, and he’d begun
devising a plan. He asked you to join him in fleeing the country. The officer was
blazing with anger, and I could almost see fire on him by the time he finished
the letter. He called Gabriel forward and ordered him to stand in front of the
fire. I’ll spare you the details, but Gabriel’s fear was so palpable that I felt it
deep in my bones. Gabriel was later executed for treason and espionage against
the government. I’m sorry that you had to find out this way. I hope you know
that Gabriel loved you and his family very much.
Cordialmente,
El amigo de Gabriel
11 octubre 2016
Saludos Gabriel,
You will never read this letter, but I am writing it for a sense of closure
anyway. I am 61 years old now and you would be, too. You wouldn’t believe how
much the world has changed since we were born. The technology we have now is
amazing. I’ve been alone for a long time now. I never found anyone to love and
marry here. There are other refugees from places like Bogota, Colombia;
28Cartageña, Colombia; and Medellin, Colombia. but I live in a small village
where there are very few. Besides, in Brazil, they speak Portugese, so the
language barrier was difficult at first. I eventually learned to adapt, but it’s
not the same as Colombia. I’ve been back a few times, but it’s mostly too risky
to return. I thought that once we escaped Colombia we would remain
unscathed for the rest of our lives: I was wrong. Our father died 13 Septiembre
1981 of some kind of disease. We thought that he would be okay, and by the
time we realized he wouldn’t, it was too late. We probably couldn’t have
afforded to take him to a real hospital, but at least we would have been able to
try. Matias was killed in 1997 in our home town, Mapiripán. There was a
massacre there 15-20 Julio 1997. They say that it was led by US-backed
paramilitaries, but not many details are known. It was kept pretty quiet. I’m
actually writing this letter to tell you about some crazy things that have
happened lately. First of all, the FARC and the government started
negotiations for peace. They finally agreed upon a deal in Cuba, and they
both signed it. The FARC and the government both agreed to certain things so
that they would each be happy with the deal. They had to put it to a vote
because of laws, but the polls had all predicted it was going to pass. So on 2
Octubre, they opened the vote, and the deal failed! Isn’t that crazy? Peace was
so close that people could taste sweetness of relief and hope on their tongues,
but it was cruelly ripped from their weak grasp. It has been 52 years since
the Colombian Conflict started and 68 since La Violencia. There is no
foreseeable end to this war, and I fear that it will continue on for decades
more. Gabriel, I am frightened that our country will cease to exist and we
would have fought for nothing. We were torn apart by this war and I don’t
want it to happen to another family. I feel guilt and shame every single day
because I feel responsible for your death. People have said that it isn’t so, but
I cannot help these overwhelming feelings that I have sinned and that I must
pay repentance. Hermano, espero conocerte en el cielo con Dios. Te extraño.
-Santiago Ramirez
29Patience, Perfectionism,
and Sourdough Bread
Autumn Crow
Class of 2020
I like to bake. It is a hobby I have picked up in recent years when I have
time on my hands. But, in all the sweets, breads, and pies I have baked,
one challenge had yet to be conquered: sourdough bread. While I knew
little about the process, I knew it was different from other breads, and I
wanted a challenge. And so began my Capstone project.
I sought to answer two questions: 1) What does it take to make a
sourdough bread? What is the science behind what makes sourdough what
it is? 2) Seeing as sourdough is a tough bread to make, how can I use
failure to improve without discouragement? How can I learn by doing, not
entirely from a recipe?
Before I could get to the “doing,” I had to figure out how to make
sourdough bread in order to answer my first question. The key to
sourdough bread, I soon found out, is a “starter.” Miraculously, instead of
using domestically store-bought yeast, the starter serves as a location to
collect “wild” yeast from the environment. All it takes is a little bit of any
type of flour and an equal amount of dechlorinated water. With my first
question answered, I was ready to get to the doing: starting my “starter.”
The lives of my starters had many ups and downs, both literally and
figuratively. Within the first few days, I suspected my whole-wheat starter
30was colonized, but shortly thereafter, it appeared no longer living. I
began to wonder whether or not my starters would be a success. I
questioned whether I ought to restart my process with a greater
amount of flour instead of the meager 2 tablespoons with which I
had begun. But, in pursuit of my second essential question, I set
aside my perfectionist tendencies; I would not let this perceived
failure set me back in my quest for sourdough. In hopes of future
success, I left my starters as they were and continued to dutifully
feed them every night.
I scoured numerous websites for tips and advice as I struggled
to coax life into my starters. There was no true recipe that I
followed. Instead, much of my actions were compiled from a variety
of recipes or from my own thoughts and hypotheses. When I
questioned the fermenting capabilities of my almond flour-based
starter, I supplemented its usual almond flour feeding with
arrowroot flour in hopes of enticing some yeast to colonize the
mixture. I chronicled the trials of my starters through my daily log,
right through the final day of my project: baking.
After the combined many hours of preparing dough and
actually baking the dough, I was astonished to find myself with
three, successful-looking sourdough bread loaves. Despite my
earlier doubts, I did not fail. Patience and ignoring perfectionism, to
my great surprise, supplied me with three delicious loaves of bread.
31The artifact that highlights my time spent creating sourdough is a
slideshow that compiles photos and journal log from throughout the
time spent on my project. The photos demonstrate the physical,
tangible progress I made in creating sourdough bread while the logs
highlight the ups and down of the process. While I learned how to
make sourdough bread, I also learned how to set aside perfectionism to
find success. When I chose not to restart the whole operation because
of failure, I was well on my way to answering my second question.
Although my CSS education did not help me with the bread-
baking part of this Capstone, it did help me through the moments
requiring patience and a lack of perfectionism. Throughout my career
at CSS, I have often embraced total perfectionism. While at some times
beneficial, perfectionism has also hampered my ability to mitigate
stress and do less than perfect work. This tendency has caused me
much stress in past years, but through my time at CSS, my
perfectionism has waned. I have been able to let go at times and be
satisfied with my best work. As a culminating project, I was able to let
go of perfectionism when making sourdough and instead use patience.
Where I was originally going to work in a floristry shop, I instead
created a project to culminate some of my progress through school. Not
only have I honed my bread-making skills, but I refined the skill of
letting go. Although I don’t have plans to become a master baker in my
future, I will take the skills of patience and perfectionism (or lack
32thereof) beyond making sourdough. Although perfection is
desirable, I know that it is not necessary. I know how to take what
is not perfect and make it work regardless. I know that despite any
failings, I can still succeed. And now, even though I might not
become a world-class baker, I certainly know how to make some
good sourdough bread.
33Swimming in Plastic
Madeline Kunstle
Class of 2021
The vast majority of the world’s population keep them out of the ocean. Microbeads just
encounters plastic products everyday. Whether it wash down the drain and later end up in a fish’s
be a plastic bag, a plastic bottle, or a plastic toilet stomach. Not only is plastic itself harmful, but
paper dispenser, it is everywhere. Now, plastic chemicals released when it decomposes are
has not only infiltrated human society but also potentially very hazardous. Scientists have found
the oceans. Whales don’t only eat krill, fish don’t “that when plastic decomposes it releases
only eat small plants, and sharks don’t only eat potentially toxic bisphenol A (BPA) and PS
fish, now they all have a steady diet of plastic. oligomer into the water, causing additional
More specifically, they are ingesting pollution” (Bernstein). These chemicals, along
microplastics: tiny, 5 millimeter or smaller bits of with many others found from decomposed
plastic that have been found almost everywhere plastics, are not naturally occurring and have the
in the ocean. While plastic is a useful material in potential to cause great harm to ocean life. The
daily life, it is harming the ocean by killing chemicals are detectable “in the parts-per-million
animals, infecting our food supply, and range”, meaning they have diffused in the water
disrupting the natural order. and can be seen in many samples of ocean water
Microplastics have floated under the (Bernstein). The chemicals from plastic increase
radar for years because of a lack of the overall damage of it to the oceans since they
understanding and research, allowing them to spread and harm ocean life in multiple ways.
accumulate in the oceans and damage the Thus far, microplastics have been found at most
environment. What are microplastics? depths, floating on top of the water and deep in
Microplastics are classified as any plastic the Marianas Trench (Joyce). Even with plastic
substance smaller than about 5 millimeters already infiltrating the majority of the ocean,
(Royte). This includes microbeads, pieces of “between 4 and 12 million metric tons of plastic
disintegrated plastic, and many other common enter the ocean each year,” (Hutchinson). Since
plastics. Microbeads are especially harmful mass production of plastic began in the early
because they are so small and found in many 1900s, this means a large percentage of over 70
cosmetic products, where they “comprise up to years worth of plastic could possibly be in the
90% of such products” (Safina). Such a large ocean today (Joyce). Organizations like The
amount of plastic in daily-use products is Ocean Cleanup are working to decrease the
incredibly damaging to the ocean, especially amount of plastic in the ocean but it’s difficult
since the companies making them do little to because of the breadth of the ocean and the
34miniscule size of many of the plastics. disrupt the functioning of hormones in animals and
Microplastics are a relatively unknown threat to can seriously affect reproductive
our waterways, but continued education and systems” (Bernstein). The wide variety of
research into their effects may decrease their future chemicals released by plastics suggests a larger
impact. impact on marine life since each chemical affects
As the field of research into microplastics animals differently. Hormones are an important
is still relatively new, their impacts on ocean life factor in the animal kingdom for mating and
are still inconclusive; the effects thus far are identifying ‘friends’, thus chemicals disrupting
plastic ingestion, chemical exposure, and animal’s hormones may affect animal interactions
decreased animal reproduction. The study of and relationships negatively (Cohen). The change
microplastics has been around for a few decades in hormones could make fish of the same species
and the quality of research is severely lacking. view each other as enemies or decrease their libido
Researchers are quick to publish papers on the (Cohen). The impact of this could affect the entire
topic to get information out instead of waiting for food chain, especially if more animals are found to
long-term experimental data (Lubofsky). reproduce less. Despite all of this, many
Moreover, the breadth of the topic makes it contradictory investigations into microplastics
difficult to have in-depth research, as “[t]here are currently suggest correlation between
six different types of consumer-based plastics, all microplastics and marine life in a negative manner
made from different polymers with different sizes, but cannot prove causation. Overall, research into
thicknesses, colors, and additives” (Lubofsky). adverse effects of microplastics on ocean life show
The wide variety of plastic makes it difficult for a relationship between reduced populations from
scientists to determine their impacts, as they are all starvation and decreased reproduction and
different. Despite these difficulties, scientists have microplastics.
found that ocean life is consuming plastic -- filling In order to decrease the amount of
up their stomachs where it is unable to be digested microplastics in the ocean scientists are creating
(Royte). Thus, many animals die from starvation waste-collection devices while volunteers are
because of lack of room in their stomachs for real participating in beach cleanup projects and normal
food. Along with affecting diets, plastic chemicals people increase their recycling habits. As
are impacting reproduction in animals. One study previously stated, the large area of the oceans
found that, “...[O]ysters exposed to tiny pieces of makes it difficult to find efficient and effective
polystyrene—the stuff of take-out food containers ways to retrieve the plastic particles within it. So,
—produce fewer eggs and less motile Boyan Slat and his program The Ocean Cleanup
sperm,”(Royte). A decrease in oysters or another project created a floating cleanup device that floats
species affects the upper levels of the food chain, through the ocean and collects trash without
creating a ripple effect of hunger for their harming marine life (Boffey). This device is free-
predators. Along with polystyrene “BPA and PS floating and after a few months a ship comes to
oligomer are sources of concern because they can collect the trash and recycle it (See Visual A). The
35implementation of many of these devices could and then reaching out to large multinational
reduce a large amount of plastic in the ocean. corporations to decrease their plastic footprint.
The recycling of daily plastics plays an Microplastics are taking over oceans
important role in keeping the oceans clean too, and waterways, impairing marine life, and
“at present, just 9% of plastic is recycled infesting food. If the marine ecosystem
worldwide. Recycling helps keep plastics out collapses from the heavy weight of plastic,
of the ocean and reduces the amount of “new” humans will no longer have an important food
plastic in circulation,” (Hutchinson). Recycling source, the largest producer of oxygen in the
plastic into new items decreases the need for world, and a source of historic information.
new plastic to be made and helps the plastic The ocean not only functions as a swimming
issue in the ocean. Most of the work to reduce pool but also as a life source and a history
the amount of plastic in the ocean needs to book. 95 percent of the ocean is still
come from the sources, like Coca-Cola, Nestle, unexplored and the human race may never get
and other brands that use plastic packaging. to know what else is under the sea because of a
But, one way to “[h]elp remove plastics from mass extinction from pollution. With the
the ocean and prevent them from getting there Pacific garbage patch now twice the size of
in the first place is by participating in, or Texas, the scale of ocean pollution is
organizing a cleanup of your local beach or perceivable (Liu). Now is the time to stop
waterway” (Hutchinson). Many revolutions using plastic in our daily life before we lose
start from the ground up and that is how the largest ecosystem on the planet -- the
keeping plastic out of the ocean will be, people ocean.
starting by recycling or cleaning up local areas
36Works Cited
Bernstein, Michael. “Plastics in Oceans Decompose, Release Hazardous Chemicals, Surprising New
Study Says.” American Chemical Society, American Chemical Society, 2009, www.acs.org/content/acs/
en/pressroom/newsreleases/2009/august/plastics-in-oceans-decompose-release-hazardous-chemicals-
surprising-new-study-says.html.
Boffey, Daniel. “Ocean Cleanup Device Successfully Collects Plastic for First Time.” The Guardian,
Guardian News and Media, 3 Oct. 2019, www.theguardian.com/environment/2019/oct/03/ocean-
cleanup-device-successfully-collects-plastic-for-first-time.
Cohen, Julie. “Microplastic Transfers Chemicals, Impacting Health: Plastic Ingestion Delivers
Pollutants and Additives into Animal Tissue.” ScienceDaily, ScienceDaily, 2 Dec. 2013,
www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2013/12/131202142735.htm.
Hutchinson, Brian. “7 Ways To Reduce Ocean Plastic Pollution Today.” 7 Ways To Reduce Ocean
Plastic Pollution Today, 2018, www.oceanicsociety.org/blog/1720/7-ways-to-reduce-ocean-plastic-
pollution-today.
Liu, Marian. “Great Pacific Garbage Patch Now Three Times the Size of France.” CNN, Cable News
Network, 23 Mar. 2018, www.cnn.com/2018/03/23/world/plastic-great-pacific-garbage-patch-intl/
index.html.
Lubofsky, Evan. “Microplastics in the Ocean – Separating Fact from Fiction.” Woods Hole
Oceanographic Institution, Oceanus Magazine, 19 Mar. 2019, www.whoi.edu/oceanus/feature/whoi-
viewpoint-microplastics-in-the-ocean-separating-fact-from-fiction/.
Royte, Elizabeth. “We Know Plastic Is Harming Marine Life. What About Us?” National Geographic,
National Geographic, 16 May 2018, www.nationalgeographic.com/magazine/2018/06/plastic-planet-
health-pollution-waste-microplastics/.
Safina, Carl. “Pesky Plastic: The True Harm of Microplastics in the Oceans.” National Geographic
Society Newsroom, 16 May 2019, blog.nationalgeographic.org/2016/04/04/pesky-plastic-the-true-harm-
of-microplastics-in-the-oceans/.
37Defiance in the Face of Opposition: The True Necessity
Kylie Crow
Class of 2020
Opposition is a common occurrence in our Throughout “Still I Rise,” Angelou
lives. From trouble with a coworker and utilizes contrast to emphasize the
contradicting ideas between friends, to importance of defying the judgment and
differing religious values and campaigns for expectations of others. One example that
individual rights, to war and governmental appears throughout the poem is the use of
tyranny, opposition is prevalent in today’s the pronouns “I” and “you.” Angelou creates
society, but more so for some people. a contrast between these two pronouns,
Minorities have faced greater opposition in placing blame when she uses “you” and
their everyday lives, as was the case for accepting responsibility and a challenge
African Americans in our nation's history in when she uses “I.” This is evident when she
particular. The prejudice these people faced– says, “You may trod me in the very dirt /
and some say continue to face––includes the But still, like dust, I'll rise” (Angelou). The
harsh conditions of the Trans-Atlantic Slave pronoun choice of “you” creates an
Trade, slavery, Jim Crow laws, and even accusatory tone, as Angelou places blame for
continued prejudice today in the form of law the history of prejudice and oppression she
force racism and continued “apartheid and others have experienced. However, the
schools.’” How is this issue combatted inclusion of “I” contrasts the “you” adding a
today? In the poem “Still I Rise,” Maya sense of taking control as Angelou admits
Angelou uses her voice to speak her mind on that she will not be held down despite
this continued topic of prejudice in her others’ efforts to do so. ‘“You” will be
attempt to combat the problem. She overcome,’ she seems to say, ‘Despite your
demonstrates the importance of best efforts you will not hold me down.’ This
opposition––in defying others’ judgment contrast serves to show her defiance of
and expectations––using contrast and others’ expectations based on the past.
figurative language. Another use of contrast in “Still I Rise” is the
38contrast shown between the past and the is more to be done, Angelou’s positivity
present. One way this is presented is in the serves to illustrate the idea that she refuses to
rhyme of the lines, “Leaving behind nights of succumb to the prejudice or the negativity of
terror and fear / I rise / Into a daybreak current day: she is instead grateful for the
that’s wondrously clear / I rise.” The rhyme progress that has been made and is to come.
of the words “fear” and “clear” helps bring This connection between the past and the
the focus to the contrast they create. In these present serves to illustrate Angelou’s defiance
lines, Angelou establishes the idea of of what is expected of her; instead of feelings
breaking free from the trouble of the past into of defeat, Angelou remains hopeful and ready
something new, something better. This to keep working for what she believes in,
supports the idea of defiance since in today’s keeping in mind the history of slavery and
world––and especially in the time this poem prejudice that has already been overcome.
was written––prejudice still exists, yet Angelou’s use of contrasts in “Still I Rise”
Angelou states her attempts to break free serves to demonstrate how opposition can be
from it. In the society that we and Angelou overcome through defying expectations, and
live, there is still opposition, yet this these contrasts allow Angelou to express her
quotation demonstrates the determination regret for the past while remaining hopeful
with which Angelou intends to continue her for the future.
life, even in the face of that opposition. Additionally, Angelou uses figurative
Additionally, the idea of past versus present language to continue to illustrate the
is presented by the words Angelou chooses importance of defying expectations,
throughout the poem, but particularly in the particularly through her confidence. This is
lines, “Bringing the gifts that my ancestors done through several techniques, the primary
gave, / I am the dream and the hope of the being similes. One such simile explains the
slave.” The words “gifts” and “ancestors” way Angelou walks, “like [she’s] got oil
serve to demonstrate Angelou’s gratitude and wells / Pumping in [her] living room,” and
connection with the past: the “gifts” were her another how she laughs, “like [she’s] got gold
ancestors’ sacrifices, perhaps even of their mines / Diggin’ in [her] own backyard.”
lives. The use of the words “dream” and These similes serve to demonstrate the
“hope” once again demonstrate Angelou’s confidence with which Angelou goes about
gratitude as well as her positivity for the her life: she is not held back by anything,
progress that has been made. Although there including her race, gender, history, or others’
39expectations and judgments of her. People has power and prestige, and even can be
might expect her to be downtrodden and considered to reign over something, like a
lowly, but she does not believe that to be true, force of nature. This once again demonstrates
and therefore she acts as if she has “oil wells” her confidence in herself despite everyone
and “gold mines.” The comparative subjects who has told her she is not good enough.
of these two similes are symbols of wealth, Finally, the repeated use of the phrase “I rise”
which Angelou also uses to emphasize her in conjunction with similes allows for
personal worth. Although others may not see Angelou to reiterate her opinion about
the value in her, Angelou sees it in herself, defiance. For example, she says, “Just like
walking and laughing as if she had hopes springing high, / Still I'll rise.” This
everything she could ever ask for. This show quotation is significant in its comparison as it
of confidence continues to reinforce her belief shows two things: the positive outlook
in defiance of expectations in how she should Angelou possesses and what she will do
act and what she should believe about despite the opposition. By comparing her
herself. Angelou also uses a metaphor to rising to “hopes springing high,” Angelou
continue the idea of defiant self-confidence, calls to mind imagines of rising up
saying “I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide... triumphantly and bravely, expectant of good
” This metaphor serves to demonstrate the things to come. Had she not chosen “hopes”
confidence Angelou feels; like an ocean, she as the main subject, the simile would have
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