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Thank you to Ms. Vega for submitting her students' beautiful Women's History Month posters for publication!

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The relationships we have-- with our selves, our friends, our loved ones, and with society-- help to shape our self-identities.

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As the school year draws to an end, we reflect on what we have learned and what we aspire to accomplish moving forward.

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Extra Credit_ March Poetry_Art_Photography Challenge (Mar 28, 2025 at 11_18 AM)

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Extra Credit_ March Poetry_Art_Photography Challenge (Mar 30, 2025 at 8_35 PM)

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By Jaskirat Singh

A home full of people

With walls glistening with white paint

Sparkling windows to see out of, not in

Lawn cut with no strand longer than the other

The home was seen as a symbol of the town

Gave hope to work towards its perfection

People adored it and envied it

All anyone wanted was to be like that strong house that stood tall.

But no one was allowed in

Closed off to anyone other than its family

Filling the air with mystery

All people ever saw was what they were shown

The house from the inside was far from the symbol of hope

It was a warning of danger

Hazards every step you take

From one corner to the next

The house seemed barely standing

With it not having finished walls or even any furniture

The family was seen taking their rage out on the house

Destroying it little by little

The house tried to stand tall for the people

But couldn’t without the love of its family

It took the hits and the faults for their problems

But eventually the house came crumbling down

Not even its love from the people could outshine the hatred of its family.

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By Davin DeLuca

Abigail Smith had been taught,

By loved ones in her abode.

Her education was naught,

But the men’s intellect showed.

Abigail Smith’s books had brought,

Concepts beyond her lessons.

Encouraging her with thoughts,

Of her schooling that lessens.

Abigail Smith finds love in,

A man who upholds the law.

As women’s schooling grows thin,

John Adams protests these flaws.

Abigail Adams supports,

Women’s formal tutelage.

She journeys to country ports,

As women face a new age.

Abigail Adams has aged,

The war of prejudice waged.

Before her life ends, she claims,

“Remember the Ladies.”

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The following poems were inspired by Night, a Holocaust memoir written by Elie Wiesel.

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By Jose Yanes

When I see her, I see virtue

Virtue in all the right places

Places in which her essence can be found

When I see someone strong, anointed, and powerful

I see my mom

The base, the columns, the walls

She does it all

The jewels, the stars, the heavens

She is them all

All thought it appears I might be away

I see her,

Her essence is with me

And with me her essence I’ll take

Because I see her

And when I see her, I see virtue

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By Krista Johnson

Our love is strong, you can’t deny,

I'm glad we decided to finally try.

We sat and watched the sun go down,

I was so happy, you hugging me around.

You make me feel like leaping in heaven,

We’ve been together for more than seven.

I think its us no matter what,

I know I'm not wrong, I feel it in my gut.

Take me back to the day we met,

I'm not going anywhere, don’t you fret.

Take me back to us walking on the beach,

You made me so happy, I lost my speech.

I will always have you in my heart,

It's us forever, till death do us part.

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By Corrine Rega

The bell rings and we run outside,

We race each other down the slide.

We reach the swings and aim for the sky-

The whistle blows and we all sigh

The bell rings and we’re back inside,

We’re coloring shapes to count their sides.

We learn to write in steady print-

At Least today no one threw a fit.

The bell rings and we flood the halls,

The lockers slam and the teachers call.

My books weigh heavy on my back-

With all this homework we can’t slack.

The bell rings and the tears stream down,

The seniors rise with their caps and gowns.

They look at the swings and begin to cry,

Remembering to always aim for the sky.

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By Victoria Harmon

When the day is at its last shred of light

We sleep, it's praise, and say goodnight to all.

The night has come; our dreams have taken flight.

The moon is so bright; the stars have a ball.

Because they’re all asleep, some cry and weep.

Tears, they pour, from things people never saw.

Others stay awake to capture a peep.

Between the moon and stars, they stare with awe.

The sun peeks through to produce a great dawn.

Roosters all over go off like set clocks.

Alarms ring louder from being led on.

'Time for life, so they head for the sidewalks.

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By Rocco Navarria

There’s a quiet way

eyes can meet,

not loud,

not blazing,

but just enough to say

something could be there.

Laughter shared like a secret,

soft and easy,

but both of us

too afraid to say it out loud.

We hesitated

kept our distance

even when it felt like we didn’t want to.

There were moments,

small ones,

when I thought we both knew.

In the space between words,

in the way the silence held something

neither of us could reach for.

Now it’s just a could’ve been,

a whisper of something that never was.

A story paused too soon,

leaving only a lingering question..

what if?

And still, I wonder,

if maybe

we both still feel it,

even if we’re too scared to try again.

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By Emily Montesdeoca

I used to count the stars in the sky every night,

Like they would disappear.

When I got older,

I put faith in the stars.

Putting faith in the fact that they'd be there for me every night,

waiting to be counted again.

I wish I could put that kind of faith in people,

But it's rarely worked that way for me.

It never will,

And it never has.

So even though I trust the stars,

And the fact that they are waiting for me every night in case I ever need them,

I can’t help but wonder,

Maybe I should start counting the stars again.

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By Kaya Lipman

The trail is quiet,

except for the wind in the trees

And the crunch of the leaves

Boulders sit where they've always been

Birds fly like they know the way

But here I am,

Staring at a laptop,

Dreaming of being there

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By Aether Horan

There’s a feeling in the air,

So heavy and pervading,

It’s impossible to escape,

As if trying to outrun time, indomitable and irrefutable.

I know this feeling well,

It sits heavy in my chest,

It follows me everywhere, like a lost dog,

But it aches whenever it comes close.

That building I know so well,

Every groove and every nook,

Every cranny and every crack,

Every item, new and old, seared into my mind’s eye.

This heavy feeling perched in my chest aches whenever it is near,

The house I know so well,

The house I used to love so much,

This heavy feeling grows suffocating when I enter.

The lights are on, but they’ll be off very soon,

I will be the only one awake,

Here, in this house I know,

And just like the night before this, it will be a long, long night.

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By Melina Esposito

Days, weeks, and months pass

I might be staring at the same blank canvas,

Or finishing one sole project for class

Into a world with no bounds,

I spend my time exploring what’s to be found

What seems like ten minutes turns into hours,

The sky matching blue, yellow, and orange flowers

As my pencil etches into my sketchbook that is paperbound,

I end up forgoing the world around.

Art comes as easily as the passage of time

From brainstorming ideas, to mastering techniques,

Immersing into the process is worth the dive

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By Davin DeLuca

I awake to the beginning of fall,

Ready to begin school.

As I drown in homework, I want to bawl,

I experience dread.

I am older now.

I awake another day, ready for work,

Schooling will begin anew.

With friends and family as support, I smirk,

Another year successful.

I am older now.

I awake another day, dreary and tired,

I prepare myself for my drive.

College arrives soon, my high school years reach their third.

My schooling opens to new heights.

I am older now.

I awake to my final day, time has passed quickly,

I dress for my tedious career.

I have known the work for years, none of it is tricky,

As I end my short high school saga.

I am an adult now.

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By Shelby Scranton

Faster and faster these last days go by,

I only remember sometimes when I cry

How much the world has changed

Since I last said goodbye.

Four years ago, I feared the same end,

On that last day, when I hugged my best friend,

I could not bring myself to admit it was goodbye,

But when I moved on, I found a new friend.

Now I see that flower from four years ago,

Still yellow, still solid, still safe from the snow,

Dried on the windowsill since I got it,

And I admit I have let myself grow.

I am not same person as I used to be,

I have grown, like a flower or tree,

My new friends remain as I face change again,

But still I fear what I cannot see.

Tonight, to the stars, I whisper a silent prayer:

That when I move on, my friends will still be there,

Standing by my side through the changing years,

Though well I know that life is often unfair.

Four years from now, I’ll face my next goodbye,

My life will have changed, in years gone by.

But I will still face the end, the same

Way as I do now, and once more I’ll cry.

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By Peyton Faigao

To be

right here,

right now.

It is spring until it isn't.

Grass, soil, oak

they're all indistinguishable now.

The visuals seep and bleed into the cracks of pavement

and only I can pick desperately at the grout

But my hands are porous, useless, and sift through sand.

I'm here and I'm here and I'm here

and I'm not.

Grass and soil, and words and words and words

I can still feel the sun above me

But now there's only its semblance of blue light.

It clings to me like static

And spills through me like the cracks of sunlight through leaf.

I was there once

I am here now

I won't be here again

In the skin of the person that touched the grass and

pavement and wrote words and words and words

pulled taut between past and present

Forever but only momentarily

I was here once

I am here now

I won't be here again

But there's something about the moment, the time that moves

The sand and its glass enveloped around it

The fire isn't supposed to rekindle

The lines in the sand are to be washed out

With my feet against the ground

and the mysterious pink stain on the ceiling

are only to be

Right here

right now

again and again and again

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By Melina Esposito

Birds find solace in singing,

Perching and nesting high in trees

Deer like to frolic,

Prancing in the clover-filled grasslands

Humans gaze at aesthetic sights,

Capturing mountain tops, waterfalls, and the deep sea

In harmony, we animals embrace our Earth,

Inhaling the air, greenery, and life that emits from it

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By Davin DeLuca

Spring is Springing

The flowers bloom,

Surrounded by growing mushrooms.

The grass rustling,

With the wind through the air whistling.

The fields welcome,

Where tulip fields are not seldom.

The rain pouring,

With the plants below adoring.

Spring is springing,

With tranquil birds above singing.

The rabbits bounce,

The weeds are victim to their pounce

As time will decree,

The season will leave,

Allowing us to grieve, when

“Spring no longer springs.”

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By Sergio Griatzky

A pandemonium due to silver spoons

The incompetent limber consciousness

Mere exploration

Serenades silenced

Serendipities unacknowledged or shunned

Pilar peasants awaiting their award from our

peers but unbounded they are misleading

Strenuous activity when it's too late

Blue bus, west

Resident mockery

Armageddon

Inadequate pards

Serpent; seven miles long

Though there are Oases

Inflation

Contradictory

Deteriorate

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By Sergio Griatzky

Sand, bark, greystone

Geometric

Myriads of light

Dull

Seemed dull

Antipodes prove

Magnet of preternatural light

The mother exists in her own being

Look at the intense self

No emotion, the fact

Without molding

West

Abundant blue flowers

It’s spring

We’re entering my birth

Gems, diamonds

Equal to grey stone

Dying grass, sand

Beauty of ubiquitous past

Black and white symbols

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By Clover Long

A young girl who just wanted to learn,

Who is Malala?

Bang!

Left the world in concern

Fighting to recover

For peace, she sang

Now, she advocates for all girls to learn

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By Abdul-Hadi Sabir

She came from the Bronx, with courage so bright,

Fighting for justice, for what is right.

She speaks for the people, the ones unheard,

Her voice is strong in every word.

She stands up tall, she won’t back down,

Facing the powerful, wearing her crown.

She fights for fairness, for workers and pay,

For rights and dreams not taken away.

No fear, no doubt, she leads with grace,

Breaking the rules that kept her in place.

For every young girl with hopes so high,

She proves they, too, can touch the sky.

So here’s to AOC, bold and free,

A leader of change for you and me.

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By Carolina Naranjo

She stepped on the bus, tired but tall,

A quiet woman, yet stronger than all.

The seats in the front? “Whites only,” they said,

But Rosa refused—she lifted her head.

“Move to the back!” a voice rang loud,

But she stayed firm; she wouldn’t be cowed.

One simple “No,” but it shook the ground,

A moment where courage and change were found.

She wasn’t a soldier, she carried no sword,

Yet, her act of defiance could not be ignored.

With quiet strength, she lit a flame,

And the world would never be the same.

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By Kayla Crowell-Person

Crack went the whip

Striking them until there was blood

There was fear in their hearts, but one knew she couldn't give up

She watched her people suffer and thought it was enough

She snuck them out, risking all their blood

Running through fear, wiping away her tears

Going back and forth for years

5’2” with a lot to lose making bounty news

She did a heroic deed

Putting her faith in God and promised her people freedom

She risked her life to set us free

Her name is Harriet Tubman, you see

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By Diana Maranzano

Books filled with physics and psychology and poetry

Hallways laced with scientists and surgeons and screenwriters,

But never with women.

A myriad of algorithms and chronicles and words spun into story

A world of knowledge fits into each classroom and every hall

But never for women

So she fights for it- she protests and yells for educational rights, unyielding to the oppressors and blights, until the world hears her cries

And in time, women learn the math and write the novels and make the history

All because of Malala Yousafzai

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By Melina Esposito

A fearless aviator with no hesitation,

She inspired many women to travel the skies

Leaving her mark for many future generations,

She is known by anyone who flies

Not only a brave pilot, but also an advocate,

She encouraged women to strive for their own career

Crossing the Atlantic alone in the cockpit,

Amelia Earhart’s legacy will always remain clear

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By Jacob Alvarez

Joan of Arc, a woman of daring

She led her people in a time of war

A bold maiden, one who was caring

No matter her treatment, she never grew sore

Joan of Arc, a devout leader

Leading the army of France

Through many forests of cedar

She traveled with her horse’s prance

Joan of Arc, an upsetting loss

Taken by the English, a horrible fate

The heresy of her actions led to burning at the stake

An influential woman, her history spread like moss.

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By Angelina Perez

In dawn’s soft hush, where silence lies,
A petal stirs beneath the skies.
With colors kissed by morning light,
The flowers wake from velvet night.

They stretch in rows on emerald seas,
And sway like thoughts upon the breeze.
Each bloom a breath, a secret told—
In hues of crimson, blue, and gold.

A daisy dreams with open face,
Of summer sun and nature’s grace.
While roses whisper love’s old tune,
Beneath the eye of silver moon.

The tulip stands in quiet pride,
With elegance it cannot hide.
The lilac hums a purple song,
That lingers sweet and lingers long.

Though brief their time, their truth is deep—
A beauty born we vow to keep.
For in each bloom, the world is new—
A fleeting glimpse of what is true.

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By Junrey McCarthy

"Never shall I forget that night, the first night in camp, which has turned my life into one long night, seven times cursed and seven times sealed."

"The stars were but sparks of the immense conflagration that was consuming us."

"The synagogue resembled a large railroad station: baggage and tears."

"The street was like a marketplace that had suddenly been abandoned."

"The barbed wire that encircled us like a wall did not fill us with real fear."

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By Alan Velez Tlacuatl

"Never shall I forget that night,

the night was long and never ending,

a dark flame consumed my soul,

the flames devoured my faith,

I was nothing but a body, a shadow"

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By Abdul-Hadi Sabir

The night was cold and damp, and the silence was complete.

The stars were shining with a strange, foreboding light.

The air was thick with smoke and the smell of burning flesh.

The faces around me were twisted with fear, eyes wide and staring.

We were herded like cattle.

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By Krista Johnson

Thereafter, life seemed normal again.

The weather was sublime.

The fragrances of spring were in the air.

The sun was setting.

Optimism soon revived.

It was spring.

The sun was shining.

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By Brandon Zuniga Santos

The morning star shone in the sky

The courtyard turned into something like an antechamber to an operating room

In the sky, a few small white clouds

A calm, reassuring wind blew through

On the horizon, we saw a long trail of black smoke

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By Jeremiah Pough

The beloved object that we had carried with us from place to place was not left behind in the wagon

Was I still alive?

Was I awake?

I felt anger rising within me

The Almighty, the eternal and terrible Master of the Universe, chose to be silent.

What was there to thank Him for?

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By Anya Amin

We stared at the flames in the darkness.

Never shall I forget the nocturnal silence that deprived me for all eternity of the desire to live

Mountains of prison garb

The night had passed completely

Suddenly, the silence became more oppressive

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By Jake Mauro

Two paths diverge in life's vast wood

one paved in gold, one misunderstood,

For some a path of ease and light,

For others, a constant fight.

In the lap of luxury, some are born,

while others face neglect and scorn

Destinies divided by invisible lines

inequality defines

Yet dreams are common, shared by all

on both paths, big and small,

in the journey of life

side and vast,

Equality should be cast.

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By Angelina Perez

She sat, not out of weariness,

But strength beneath her calm finesse.

A single seat, a simple stand,

That shook the laws across the land.

No sword she raised, no battle cry,

Just silent courage, steady eye.

In buses bound by hate and fear,

Her quiet "no" rang loud and clear.

They called her meek, they called her small,

Yet she became the spark for all.

A flame that lit a nation's soul,

And made the broken pieces whole.

Behind her calm, a storm was born,

Of marches, dreams, and vows sworn.

She showed the world that change begins

With steadfast hearts and quiet wins.

So let her name be carved in stone,

For all the seeds of truth she's sown.

In Rosa's light, we can see

The Power of Dignity.

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By Luci Shum

Along my journeys, by happenstance I found

A traveler who sought the same place I was bound

A caterpillar full of ambition, yet modest in size

And somehow, we saw eye to eye

We traversed the peaks, passed the troughs, and navigated the weeds

But still no place was safe enough to call home.

And so, it was when we reached the end of the path

And our trails were away from hatred’s wrath

When my companion knew her transmogrification was ready

Days and nights passed, the chrysalis remained intact

And at last, her shell fractured and revealed

A butterfly with magnificent wings, fluttering untethered.

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By Karma Minnis

I love this song

I heard you sing along

You messed up the lyrics

But I refuse to crush your spirits

If the world would keep spinning

When I'm with you, I’m winning

Why am I like this

The void will consume

My feelings for you

So you assume

I feel nothing new

Do you even like this

The world looks blue

When I'm not with you

Am I truly like this

The light in your eyes

The shine in your smile

Makes my life worth

All the while

Will you still like this

I write this with love

All from the heart

I won't leave you ever

Will Death Do Us Part

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By Kaya Lipman

Lanterns glow beneath the moon so bright.

Fireworks burst and light up the night.

Families gather, sharing food and cheer.

Wishes are made for the coming year.

Dragons dance and children laugh with glee.

Happiness flows like waves in the sea.

Gold and red fill the streets with light.

The New Year begins, a hopeful sight.

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By Melina Esposito

A blank slate: year of the snake

Acting as a new dawn, it radiates

the rays of new challenges to undertake

Everyone’s different, don’t be bound by fate

So start new hobbies, or simply make

a year you’ll remember; one you create

Don’t take it lightly, for your sake

Your impending year of the snake awaits.

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By Ryan Thomas-Tarighi

I come from a place that is unknown

A place in which my mind lives alone

In this life, I am something that flies

One that soars above and beyond the skies

With this power, I feel like I am free

Sometimes, thinking I could morph into a tree

One that's so beautiful, full of lustful leaves

I would sway just as the wind believes

The beauty in the world shines so bright

Wishing that it could always be this right

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By Davin DeLuca

Exhaustion consumes. My muscles and bones ache,

I woke at dawn from my slumber.

Routine begins. I start brushing my teeth.

I dress in clothes chosen to impress.

Breakfast starts—too little time to enjoy,

I pack my bookbag to soon depart.

Driving slowly. My mind is barely awoken.

Drivers pass me. My journey is prolonged.

Arriving. I approach East Brunswick High School.

A day's work worries the occupied mind.

Classes pass. I reunite with my classmates.

New assignments given incite increased anxiety.

Returning home. I work on due homework.

Concluding the day's work before falling asleep.

Awakening. I ponder the previous life possessed,

knowing college will never replicate high school.

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By Trevor Puskas

I am from Monroe, New Jersey

from the Puskas family and Panetta family

and my house is tan and has a big garage in the back

I am from my family’s religion and their traditions

and from my family’s habit of going to church and getting confirmed

I am from the Catholic religion in which my family believes

I am from the two objects from my past which are my old toys and my old laptop

I am from my great grandma and great grandfather

from my grandpa training in the army

I am from those moments in my hometown of Monroe, New Jersey that I’ll never forget.

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By Karmanie Minnis

Nothing. Garnold stepped outside, the shivering cold air drifted past. He ignores the discomfort engulfing him and noticed a dark figure under the moonlight. The Black Hat and all of his glory. His vizor gives him a better view of the target, and he detects something behind him. Assuming it's Clukr, he pays it little attention. As he approaches, he hears a bloodcurdling scream along with the sound of crashing and blood splatter. Garnold snaps his head around to see Wenda holding Clukr down, pushing the cymbal on his antenna, pushing his skull in. He screamed until his throat fills with the blood and skull shards that are chaffing their way through his head and cutting his throat. His eyes pop out of their sockets, red and cut-up spheres. Garnold’s attempt to reach him, however, fails when he is grabbed and forced down. He attempts to fight the aggressor off but it is to no avail. As he accepts his life reaching an end, he feels something collide with his vizor. The item begins turning and turning and turning. The more it turns the tighter it feels around his head. It tightens to a point where part of the screen shatters and leaves his eye visible and bloody. His mouth presses closer to the mouthpiece of his mask, and his teeth press up against the mask, fogging it with his heavy breathing. “GURK-” He gasps for air as the tension around his head begins to sink into the skin of his neck, pulling it inwards. Blood fills his throat, causing him to begin coughing and sputtering out. As his vision fades, he only thinks of one thing, his family...

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To submit poems, stories, photos, and artwork, click on the image above. Remember to include your name in your submission! We do not publish anonymous work.

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East Brunswick Magnet School’s Literary Magazine

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By Ava Jones

Ho Ho Ho that's how every Christmas goes

We go to North Carolina every year but I haven't seen snow

Play games and eating candy canes

Love, happiness, and the families joy grows

One tradition which is Bake offs

Eating cake and cookies is a great way to set the holiday off

Another tradition is singing carols

My family sings so loud

Not ashamed but I can say I'm very proud

We also go to church

Some people might not agree

but before there was a tree

the Savior was born and we learn about it even more

So that concludes everything

The rest is all a blur

Can't wait for this year,  my head turns and turns

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By Jose Yanes

I was admiring the golden specks on the leaves of the tree

When I realized,

If I only see the leaves, I'll miss the whole tree

I was mesmerized by the dancing of the gleaming tree

When I realized,

If I only see this tree, I'll miss the whole forest

I was amazed by the harmonizing symphony of the colorful yellow,

and velvet trees that moved to the rhythm of the wind

When I realized,

If I only see the forest, I won’t see the specks on the leaves of the tree

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By Carmine Galante

I remember the crazy days I had as a child

I remember the time my siblings and I were playing in the pool

I remember the time my mom pushed me on the swings

I remember the time my uncle and dad taught me how to ride a bike

I remember the time we were listening to Pitbull at a family barbeque

I remember the time my mom gave me my first hamburger

I remember the time my grandma brought me with her to bring your child to work day

I remember the time I first held my baby cousin when he was born

I remember the time my siblings and I played hide and seek in the dark.

I remember the crazy days I had as a child, and I wish I could relive those again.

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By Shaurya Nayak

I am from chicken biryani and naan

Kadai chicken and roti

I am from cricket fields and swimming pools

I am from the smell of rich spices and fresh produce

I am from the sound of cars and honking

I am from the high rises of Pune

I am from

“There are no shortcuts in life”

And

“Only hard work can overcome luck”

I am from my mom and dad

My grandma and grandpa

My close friends

My uncles and aunts

My great grandpa, great aunts and uncles

And everyone who has made me who I am

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From Grandma’s Food to Grandpa’s Lectures

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From Grandma’s Food to Grandpa’s Lectures

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By Vishal Kandan Radhakrishnan

I am from Dosa and Idli and Poori

Vada and Rice and and Mango Lassi

I am from Grandma’s food, the smell of cows and nature on the streets

Street food and temples

I am from

“Study hard it will help you with your future a lot”

And

“Be proud of your roots”

I am from

Grandma Dhanalakshmi

Grandpa Kandan

And my ancestors who have helped the next generation be successful

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By Mikayla Shaughnessy

I remember being a kid.

I remember coming home after school.

I remember sitting at the table to complete my homework.

I remember going to dance.

I remember wearing my tutu.

I remember staying up late every night to read my books.

I remember passing notes through my bunk bed with my little brother.

I remember the bright lights on my face as my mom woke me in the morning.

I remember being a kid, but sometimes remembering isn't enough.

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By Natalia Mora-Patterson

Every year we go to family houses to celebrate Thanksgiving.

When we go it makes me happy that I'm among the living.

As we eat our pumpkin pie under the nice blue sky,

We play some games that make us cry. (happily ofc)

I mostly enjoy it when we go outside

And we'll go on a tractor ride.

Marshmallows, crackers, and all the galore,

All I want is to eat some more!

Turkey, ham, and some calla greens,

Makes me want to fall asleep.

When night time comes and it is time to go

I can't wait for next year's show.

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By Miley Acevedo Noyola

I am from the wrapped hot tamale that gets passed down to each family member.

I  am a hot bowl of posole that has everybody's favorite toppings to sprinkle over.

I am from the freezing cold mango boli they choose when it's very hot during the summer laughter and relief with every bit of taste.

I am from the laughter and joy all of their eyes shining bright with each firework going into the air. Each kid's smile is bright just like each explosion that goes “kaboom”.

I am from the busy street on a rainy day with honking cars that each have their own expressions. Their voices come from their conductor with each “honk” full of rage.

I am from the delicious sweet scent that comes from the restaurant next to us every time we step foot in there and it is blown with such an amazing scent.

I am from the saying “Never let your dreams down” my grandma told me every time my tears just like a faucet dripping one by one “drip, plop” held into your arms never wanting to let go. I am from your words “Don't become like me” never thought that I was already heading towards your party I wanna break this curse and make you proud, why? Because you're a part of me and I'll never let anybody make me feel like I have no meaning.

I am from the words “why do you keep straightening your hair?” because I don't know what I am only than just your look-alike I had to be the better you, staying out of drama I've tried but look where I am in this nice school with amazing friends sometimes drama just has to be apart of your life I wanna be the better you let me I wanna be the one who holds your last name and make you something great that’ll show what an amazing blessing you've made, hold my hands one more last time I know we've had our fights but let me make you proud.

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By Kerry Herrera

I am from a canvas and a paintbrush

Painting a flower path that doesn’t end

Headphones on with music playing

I am from my journal with a led pencil

Journaling everything about my day

Reflecting on the things I accomplished

I am from my skateboard with a hello kitty design

Skating around downtown

Going to different areas

I am from “siempre enfócate en la escuela”

“Nunca te rindas, sigue luchando”

My mother giving me motivation every morning and night

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By Maria Gonzales

I am from

Tacos and Mole

Rice and Pozole

I am from

The people outside their houses chatting with each other

The sound of music coming from the backyards of neighbors

I am from

“Be careful”
“Where are you going"

I am from

My dad

My uncle

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By Krista Johnson

I am from the scary basement, the one that creaked every time a step was taken

I am from the sound of trains behind my house, or the fishy smell lingering in the neighborhood

From the worn down stuffed animal, that is filled with tears and joy

I am from the festive, cheerful, loving home

And the fluffy dog running around the house playfully

I am from the two big tall trees, that hung our swing

I am from the Hungarian meals my mother would make me on holidays, and delicious flavorful steak

From my grandma Jeanne and grandma Ingrid

I am from the love and warmth they both provided

From the night walks in the woods, but being protected by my ‘Omi’

I am from living by a saying, “Trust god in all that you do”

I am from my grandma Jeanne's house where we would paint seashells and canoe in the lake behind her house

From the baked potatoes to the Hungarian made pancakes

From my grandpa telling me his stories he created for us

And from my grandpa that I didn’t meet but he still lives in my heart, to the celebration we have for him every year

I am from those moments forever have family traditions, meals, and people who will always have a special place in my heart

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By Junrey McCarthy

I am from…

Filipino food like Chicken Joy,

Spaghetti with chopped hot dogs

and dessert Halo-Halo

And breakfast that is ready to be

eaten everyday for breakfast, lunch,

and dinner

I am from…

The smell of gasoline where when

I walk in the streets

and the taste of fried chicken

and honking jeepneys and tricycles

I am from…

neighbors that speaks Tagalog

and yells a lot, is really shy

also with lots of traffic

I am from…

a tribe of Asians and

a family of Grandpa Dan’s

I am from…

a country that has warm beaches

with large malls and a lot of street foods

I am from…

a community that has a

lot of party every year

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By Darek Prieto

I’m from Winnie-the-Pooh

From all the clothes and toys lost around the house

I am from my comforting household

And from the welcoming scent of my grandparents

I’m from Aloe Vera

Whose plantations brought happiness to me

I am from those late night walks and street food

From my friendships and neighbors

I am from Chaulafan and fried plantains

I am from my brother’s birth

From those who love thy neighbor as much as you love yourself

I am from my cultural roots

From those ‘I love you’ and ‘I miss you’

From those childhood holidays

I am from my mom’s dimples

From my birthday cakes

And from my kindergarten class

I am from those memories forgotten as the time passed

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By Giovanni Ruiz

I am from pillows that you use to rest on

From blankets and stuffed animals

I am from shampoo and a toothbrush

and toothpaste that cleans your teeth in the morning and night

I am from swings used at playgrounds

From whose name I should not mention

I am from stuffed animals and action figures

From John and Anthony

From rice and beans and tortas

I am from those moments where my family would gather up every single day

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By Alan Velez

I am from Xbox 360

From the wooden table and kitchen chair

I am from paradise

And dystopia

I am from bright green tree

Whose tall

I am from markers and crayons

From Velez and Tlacuatl

I am from soccer and sports

And from dedication from hard work

I am Catholic

From tacos

And rice

The memory of being top of my class

I am from those moments of growing up

And making my family proud.

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By Joshua Carreras

They Shaped me

I’m from Baseball and Mickey Mouse

From a gorgeous Neutral home

I can’t thank you enough, Lord

Giving not just me but my loved one's life

Can’t wait for what you store for me and my life

Even more beautiful my Grandma and Mom

I love you thank you for shaping me

So beautiful and you helped me

I can’t forget you guys Grandpa and Dad

You guys made me the little boy I am.

Thank you for giving me life and giving me the blessing to play the sport I love

You guys are the best thank you.

You guys Shaped me.

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By Dylan Hart

I am from my horse stuffed animal named Jeff

From the old Star Wars toy from my basement and the chair that was in my living room

I'm from  the visits to Grandpa

Formed by my PS4 in my room

From the Murphys to the Harts

To eating my Mom's famous crumb cake

Through the height and the freckles

From going to the hospital to home

Then going to my beyblades