It is hard to believe that four years have passed since I submitted my first poem to STRIPES. A fledgling staff member at the time, I thought that creative expression was a solitary act-- something to be recorded in a personal journal or completed as a classroom assignment for a grade. However, participating in STRIPES-- first as a writer, then as an editor, and this year as editor-in-chief-- taught me otherwise. I learned that the literary arts are a living force that unites people-- fostering new connections and introducing new perspectives.

Through the collective efforts of our staff, editors, and contributors, this magazine is more than just an archive of poems, stories, art, and photography. I have seen it grow into a beautiful kaleidoscope of ideals, views, and personalities. Every submission brought something different to the table-- whether it be humor, honesty, introspection, or appreciation. Together, they formed something bigger than any individual work could achieve alone.

That is why this year's theme-- American Mosaic-- is especially fitting. Mosaics are built from separate fragments that may look unrelated on their own, but together create a fuller picture. America itself often feels similar: diverse backgrounds, beliefs, cultures, and experiences existing side by side. I believe there is endless meaning and beauty in that kind of diversity. This edition of STRIPES reflects that belief. In this issue, you’ll find voices that differ greatly from one another, yet all contributing something important. Every contributor sees the world differently, and those differences are what make this magazine so special.

Participating in STRIPES has taught me things most classrooms can’t. I’ve learned to pay attention to the little things, like the choice of words someone uses and the weight those words carry. In today’s world, we are constantly rushing and moving onto the next thing. Literature and art give room for us to pause, appreciate small details, and feel something genuine in our ever-changing society.

As I leave STRIPES in my final year of high school, I am grateful to everyone who helped shape this project into what it is now and for continuing to make a space safe for all voices to be heard. To our future editors, writers, and artists: continue listening with an open mind and creating with honest emotion. Keep adding to our beautiful mosaic.

Sincerely,

Diana Maranzano

Editor-in-Chief

The Sun shone above in the blue sky,

The water glistened in return.

The sand extended before my eye,

As my father’s car made the turn.

Summer would last forever!

As the car slowly parked in the lot,

We sprang from our leather seats.

The trunk opened, new toys we brought,

New pastimes, the hot beach would greet.

Summer would last forever!

The yellow sand burned our marching feet,

We hustled to the cooling sea.

A wave grew large, others that would beat,

My brother and I had to flee.

Summer would last forever!

Tiny creatures scuttled on the bay,

Horseshoe Crabs waited for the waves.

We searched for them, much to their dismay,

They returned to their ocean caves.

Summer would last forever!

The bright Sun descended to the West,

We began to pack our items.

Shovels, buckets, even the toy chest,

Returned to the trunk.

As we left, we knew,

Summer did not last forever.

This summer was calm, sometimes…

The sound of a flock of birds surrounding the hot winds in the atmosphere outside,

The chaos on social media happening throughout the world

Going to church to get closer to God,

Praising with other people who have the need for freedom

Spending time with family, hosting barbecues and birthday parties,

Laughter and cheerful joy drowning me down,

Going out to shop together for family time

Listening to music as it fills my brain with ease,

The melodies make up the noise that’s pounding my head around me,

Listening to different genres to not get bored out of my mind

The tension that swallowed me with the thought of starting highschool,

Wondering if I will even fit in or stand out horribly,

Thoughts of failing and getting humiliated by academic responsibilities

The End…

From what I heard, some people traveled or met up with friends. Most of my summer consisted of a simple routine: waking up, cleaning myself, and focusing on working out / wrestling or seeing where the day takes me. When I pictured my first summer as a high school student, I always thought I would’ve had the chance to hang out with friends and see someplace new as I grew older. In reality, everyone had their own plans and mostly moved on, and I didn’t want to disturb anyone. I kept myself busy nonetheless with my new passion: wrestling. During my last summer I joined my districts’ open mats and from then on I fell in love with the sport. After joining the official wrestling team, I’ve had a motivation to be better; not just in the sport, but in my life by working out and improving myself. I participated in a couple of matches, ran around a football field, hitting 5-6 miles, going to the gym or my school’s weight-room program, and finally, participating in the same open mats wrestling club that got me there in the first place. I did manage to see my friends a couple of times during the summer but it was mostly my wrestling teammates who I would see on a daily basis. I poured myself into improving my wrestling abilities and self confidence which gave me a new perspective on myself. This summer may not have been the glamorous or the most exciting one to be heard of or experienced for most people, but in the end, it was special to me. The small laughs, moments, and time I had with those special to me made it worth it. Do I wish that some stuff was done differently? Yes- but looking back, I'm still grateful for how stuff occurred, because deep down I know and feel they happened for a greater reason than just my own needs. Overall, this summer was an opportunity to reinvent myself in some way and I’m glad. I can’t wait to use my new strength and skills I learned at wrestling when the season comes and make everyone who was there for my practices proud of me.

I spent my summer in a daze

Planning and wishing

All on things I knew I wouldn't have energy for

The days were slow but always finished too fast

I convinced myself I would do things

But I would stare at the empty canvas

Like it owed me the art

How could I complain about wanting more to show

When I couldn't even start the process

Soon summer was over

And I wished I had something to prove

how I spent my summer was worth it

Or was it all just blues?

I am in a dystopia

I wonder when the violence will stop

I hear the screams of pain

I see the people suffering

I am in a dystopia

I pretend not to hear the screams

I feel sad that people have to die

I touch the world I wish for, watching it slip away

I worry for my people

I cry for I cannot live freely

I am in a dystopia

I understand I can't do this alone

I say, help me, please

I dream of living under no rule

I try to break free

I hope we can be a utopia

I am in a dystopia

The words repeat in his furious mind,

“Jason, slay all teen kind.”

His machete grasped with limitless rage,

“It’s a war we wage.”

“Jason, reclaim mommy’s home.”

Two teenagers spotted by the lake’s coast,

“Jason, be a host.”

An unwelcome blade slashes the cool air,

“You’ve hunted the pair.”

“Jason, reclaim mommy’s home.”

A lit cabin stands still in the crisp night,

“Jason, show your might.”

The hunter bursts through, teens cast with fear,

“Strike all standing near.”

“Jason, reclaim mommy’s home.”

One innocent escapes, he must pursue,

“Jason, one’s so few.”

A sharpened blade flies from a rageful grasp,

“Jason, my special boy.”

“You’ve reclaimed our home.”

A note from a lonesome ghost found nailed to a manor’s gate…

Roaming around these broken halls

I want to leave, but back here I’d fall

I want to cry, but find only a wall

Any who hear faint or their heart goes stale

I’d read, but my hands won’t grab

I’ll write, though I cannot think

Pen through paper, like a stab

Until my work runs dry from ink

I wish not to scare, though others forced to stare

Leave me, I simply want peace, I swear

Though if you’re brave, please do stay, company is lacking

I have much knowledge of the afterlife, so if you’d like, start asking

My story and my ending, some happy times, some broke

And you’ll know how to have your best death, I hope.

(inspired by "We Real Cool" by Langston Hughes)

My students are not real cool.

They are just fools.

Lurking late.

Spreading hate.

Troubled teens

Are in the scene.

Full of gloom. 

They are doomed.

I am from airports

From suitcases and clouds

I am from the house built upon morals.

(Respect, lessons, touching and heartfelt words)

I am from Sunflowers , Freshly picked from the farm my mom loves

I am from Sayreville, specifically in the marching band

where I can play clarinet and watch the sunset.

From Friday night lights and late night bites.

I am from passion and music.

From video games and movies

The sound of the electric guitar coming from my room.

I'm from hard work and laughter

From my mother and my father

I'm from discipline and strength

From "Make sure you are not late again" and "Don't depend on other people, focus on you".

I'm from Hackensack's hospital and born in my Dominican family which makes me a first generation American.

Rice and beans, Empanadas

The jokes and laughter with me and my older sister

From the picture frames on the living room

Which reflect upon the trips we've had

Where I came from makes me very glad.

I am from my old stuffed animals

Both my fluffy dogs are mammals

From my mom’s obsession with garden gnomes and the mounds of rocks in my backyard made of stone

I am from a warm, comfortable, sight of my beautiful home that was born

I am from a rose, as the beautiful smell rushes to my nose

I'm from snow angels in wrapping paper on Christmas morning and my red and curly soft hair that is very warming

From my mom whom my cousins call Aunt Dee Dee and G.G.

I'm from the freckles that flood my whole body and my dimples that are very godly

From thinking Santa is real and my dad's homemade lasagna which is my favorite meal

I'm from Noe’s house and Michelle the chipmunk whom I thought at first was a mouse

I'm from Spotswood but now Monroe and my family used to live in Italy until my great great grandparents on my dad's side moved to the US

Penne Vodka is one of my favorite meals and family secrets that are still sealed

I am made of the tunes of the songs that I sing and the kindness for others that I bring

The amazing cooking of my Italian dad which when I take a bite it makes me very glad

I am from the love of my family and I really owe them a lot because they are my whole life and my bravery

I am from Macheté

From tortillas and nopales

I am from a home that is founded on God, and a home that says “¡Vive el presente! ¡Nunca olvides las bendiciones de hoy!”

A home where pots and pans clutter in the kitchen. And the savory aroma of Mexican dishes filling the comedor.

A home where my family used scraps to make a better future for their children.

I am from the maíz en el campo, where the leaves are swaying along the wind as the machete cuts the beautiful harvest.

I'm from the faithfulness in our christian faith and the rich culture of Mexico.

From Guzman & Herrera

I'm from the tios y tias, primos y primas.

We raise up our bandera high in union.

Resilience is our personal trait.

From mi Abuela Rosa telling me “Mija, nunca olvides a respetar a las personas en tu vida que te apoyaron en tu vida, mi pollitos con papas.”

I'm from a christian faith upbringing, upholding the sabbath and pursuing the Lord <3 Jesus is The Lord.

I'm from New Brunswick, NJ and from burros y cabellos in the rancho. Where the green mountains stand tall as a beautiful monument.

In the distance chickens are clucking, children are laughing and playing escondido.

Enchilladas, y maisita de borrego are our specialty dishes.

From the harsh labour my parents went through in Mexico. The scorching heat hit my mother's face as she walked with a bandeja de pan arriba de su cabeza.

And, my father taking the cabellos to el monte con se, with no one to help him as he walked the mountains in the sweltering heat.

Nopales of different sizes stand in confidence against the immense heat.

The difficulties they faced as they had to work all their lives-especially my grandparents and parents.

Are like the cactuses that stand tall in the pressure.

We will never forget the sacrifices my family made to build this new generation.

Our memories are embedded in our corazones; pictures are transformed into recuerdos of the past and in the dusty family album-there it lies.

I am from the roots in the ground of the farm my ancestors planted

In a small town in Mexico where the land is dry until they can’t stand it

I am from the rice and the spices

from the lesson that makes me grow and learn from,

the home of people who strive to help me live my dream,

the house where they molded and made our own,

the clean, gentle and jolly home, a place I can learn to love as my own

I am from the leaves and grains that bloom with the tears of hard work

Just like me they are still learning to grow and show their smart

I'm from the celebrations of our loved ones and the strength that is embedded

From Herreras and Carmonas

I'm from pride and wit,

from secrets and ideas,

from heavens and wishes,

from the tears and pain that were shed when our family was apart

And the legacy that I will one day start

I am an ocean. I blend in with the crowd, and traverse with them. Will anyone ever see the depths inside me? Although I can be calm, some currents are dangerous. Flowing. My mind remains open, churning with waves. I share, think, rest, and converge. “You hardly speak openly,” they always say. Viewing my inner thoughts, I seek to calm the doubt. The ocean isn’t untamed to me; it's the way I share my emotions.

I am a roller-coaster. I climb with hope, and I fall with force. Do people enjoy the ride, or just hold on tight? Although my twists are unpredictable, my tracks always lead forward. Wild. My energy loops and spins like sparks flying through the night sky.  I thrill, I scare, and I surprise. “You never slow down, do you?” they laugh. Racing faster, I carry everyone with me. The ride isn’t chaos, it's my way of living. 

I am a Sea Turtle.

I swim in the sea, and glide along the waves.

Can I be destroyed by such little plastic, or am I strong?

Flow

I glide along the sea like a kite flying in the sky.

I swim, float, eat, and glide.

“I am one with the sea.”

I swim along with my other sea creatures and sea turtles.

I might be going slow, but I am still heading towards more.

At the Senior Showcase, there were many amazing art displays, but one that stood out to me was by Manoela De Sousa Rego. Her artwork showed a lot of emotion and meaning. When I asked what inspires her, Manoela said, “What inspires me to create my art is to either spread the word of God or to tell my story, whether it’s through the people I love or through my emotions.” You can really see that in her pieces. She had 5 pieces showcasing some are the face and light of God, another showing two soccer players standing side by side, and another focusing on eyes, which seemed to tell a story of reflection and feeling. Manoela shared that her art process is all about “trust, time, and patience.” That clearly shows through her detailed and thoughtful work. Her display was one of the many great ones at the showcase, but what made it special was how personal it felt. Manoela’s art shows her faith, passion, and heart, reminding us that true art comes from the soul. Also, that faith and feeling can be the strongest forms of expression.

I am the internet.

I gain more knowledge, and I spread it to those around me.

Can you see the energy it takes?

Although I spread misinformation, I still offer unique perspectives.

Posting.

My algorithm spreads through social media like a virus.

I load, give results, cause emotion, and load some more.

“Stop lagging!” they scream.

Sharing with all, I send cute cat videos.

The internet can harm, the internet can help.

I am an autumn leaf.

Change sweeps me away like a cool autumn breeze, and sets in like an empty tree.

Does anyone see the changes within me like I do?

Although changes can be scary, something new and beautiful can emerge.

Growth.

My colors change like the leaves on an autumn tree.

I’m afraid, I’m changing, I'm growing.

Everything happens for a reason, I tell myself.

Progressing into a new version of myself isn’t easy.

At the end of the change, there is always a new leaf

I am a dragon.

I fly about and hold people’s fear and distaste.

I’m always looking down, but is anyone looking up?

Although I sometimes breathe moody fire, I stay strong and hopefully wise.

Reserved.

Sometimes I find myself in a lonely cave.

I roar loud, feel ignored, I listen, and find my moment.

“You’re so confident”, they smiled.

Observing more, I find my connections.

The dragon isn’t scary - it’s my strength.

Every day, since I was a child, has been hell. My only food source is rats, and I find them when they crawl through the caves. I can’t leave the caves; I don’t even know if I want to. Leaving is basically a death wish. At least that's what I've been told. Sometimes when I'm alone, the rats speak to me. They tell me stories of the outside world. With these short things and tall things, fat things, and even things that can climb without walls. Though this cave life sucks, I'm tired, and I don’t want it anymore. I want to leave, but can I? The rats tell me not to, but am I even friends with them? I eat them. Why would they tell me the truth? So I went out of the cave into a place filled with green. I could finally stand up. It felt nice. There were these brown and green things my height, but they refused to talk to me. So I kept walking slowly. The roof of this new place changed colors, similar to the roof of my cave. But I kept on walking. I saw these big rats, and I was hungry, so I crawled toward them. I was almost at its height when crawling. Slowly, I got there, but it was making some sort of sound, and I liked it. It made my heart tingle, almost like raindrops falling, but it is a beautiful order. I came closer, and then it saw me. There was 1 second before it saw me and this terrible noise. The noise scared me. So I smashed it. I didn’t like the way it looked when it was smashed, and now it had gotten my hand all dirty. Stupid Rat. But still, I wanted to hear the noise again, so I looked for more big rats. And each had the same reaction: scream, and then smashed. It sucked that it got my hand so dirty, but alas, I kept going, and with every big rat I found, I got a few more seconds of that sweet, sweet noise.

Amber sunsets, early glow,

Fields of harvest all bestow.

Golden leaves drifting through the sky,

They whisper secrets as they fly.

Time slows down, a gentle call,

To find beauty in the fall.

Sometimes I see things that others can't

Like the whisper of the wind

Or the call of a wolf

These might sound normal to you, but I see it differently

I can see the spirit's whispers in the wind as it blows

I can see the wolf’s sorrow as it howls to the moon

Begging it to fix his grief

Yet no one else can see this

So I'm left in my thoughts, for I can see others

As the spirits of the wind call me to join them

I sigh as the world isn't what it seems.

I was just like them. They still looked at my flaws. My crooked smile and my chipped teeth gleamed every time I laughed. My nose, a noticeable feature of my face. My hair…frizzy all around my shoulders. They looked at the dry skin near my cheeks and the chubbiness near my neck. They looked at the bone poking out from my stomach. They saw the hair gliding down my arms. They eyed the ashy skin near my elbows. They felt my cold hands and pressed my short nails against their fingertips. Then, they looked at my body’s size and made every comment of repulsion against its silhouette. They told me I should paint my nails. After that, I should use a repairing hair mask. That I should also put makeup on because, without it, I could never be beautiful. They gave me different clothes to appear physically attractive. They tried to change every single thing about my appearance. But, my eyes. Oh, my eyes terrified the Humans. They didn’t bother laughing at me anymore when they saw the stare I gave them. Such vulnerable and soft creatures they were. And yet, they hid from me, even though I was a creature just like them.

~I ran through the forest in my ripped garments. Leaves and branches were scratching against my back as blood dripped down from my forehead and shoulders. The Humans did this to me. The Humans had hurt me. But, they still couldn't bear to look me in the eyes. My coughs were echoing and my throat was aching. The breath particles were evaporating every second I had my mouth unlatched. My lips cracked under the saliva from my tongue. My teeth were throbbing and there was a gash on the side of my right gum. My nose was scratched up and I could tell by the pain that it would show up purple later. My eyes remained safe, but I hid them in fear of looking at myself. I was insecure. I was afraid. I was hurt…. just like the Humans.

I was the monster.

I was the monster.

I was the monster.

Was.

They would always see me as the monster.

But I was just like them. I made up the parts they tried to hide in themselves. And so on, I continued prowling through the Human’s World in secret, but without shame. It didn’t matter what I did; they would always look at my flaws. To the humans, a monster they saw.

I was a monster.

I am a butterfly

I flutter freely but travel forever

Did anyone like me before the wings?

Although I'm a different color, I'm still just like you

Unique

My wings like an engine that doesn't ever stop

I fly, breathe, live, and change

"You never stop talking,” they say

Leaving and looking for my human

The butterfly is beautiful because of her story.

Our school hosts numerous performances throughout the year, but the Senior Showcase has always stood out from the rest. It’s interesting seeing different shops come together and make a night very special for students, faculty, and families.  The overall impression I received from the Senior Showcase was that it was very different from the other Senior Showcase performances. Every year, the senior class sets the bar high for their performance, and this year’s class set the bar extremely high. Some of my favorite moments in the Senior Showcase were the music videos that were shown at the beginning of the showcase. The music video was to the song “Cake by the Ocean” by DNCE. Everyone in the music video appeared to be having the time of their lives. It made me wish I were there with them, partying. Another aspect of the Senior Showcase I enjoyed was the exhibits. To highlight one I found fascinating was a ‘Blue’s Clues’ setup. It gave me a wave of nostalgia since I grew up watching the show as a kid. In conclusion, Senior Showcase 2025 is a performance I’ll never forget here at EBMS.

Games

I’m thankful for the Detroit Lions, who play a game every Thanksgiving. I want Aidan Hutchinson to get sacks on defense, Jahmyr Gibbs to run down the field for many touchdowns, and Penei Sewell to open up gaps for Gibbs to do so.

Feasts

I’m thankful for the food on Thanksgiving. From the macaroni and cheese to the mashed potatoes and turkey, I love eating it all. I can’t wait to feast with my family and enjoy the holiday.

Family

I’m thankful for my mother, father, and brother that live with me. I love them very much and I’m really excited to eat with them and enjoy myself. My dad and I will be glued to the TV as we watch the Lions and Packers face off.

Friends

I’m thankful for my friends, both back at my home district, and over here in East Brunswick. They make school much more fun to go to, and my education would never be the same without them. Plus, they give me a reason to go outside.

Full Court

I’m thankful for playing, watching, and experiencing basketball. Tryouts are still going on, and if I make the team (varsity or junior varsity), I’ll be very grateful for the opportunity to play for and represent East Brunswick Magnet School.

Filmmaking

I’m thankful for the Digital Film shop, which is the reason I got into this school. I’m looking forward to making my film and showing it in the Cranford Theater during the 11th Reel Film Festival.

Water constantly moves with freedom and grace. It constantly provides for many. Water provides shelter for sea creatures. It provides a safe place and a home.

The sky is full of wonder. Full of thousands of clouds, all in different spots. The sky projects the beauty and color of the water found on earth. It projects hundreds of shades of blue.

The trees are so unique, each and every one of them. Unique in every shape, species, height, and color. The trees give back to the world. Giving oxygen, and a shield to many animals.

The people help the world grow. Grow in many different aspects. Many restore endangered species. Many conserve sacred areas.

The animals show so much unspoken beauty. With so many animals, varying from a lion to a dolphin. Each animal differs in their own way. Each animal has shown their beauty in their own way.

I am a cheetah. I hunt for knowledge and glide past the competition. However, does anyone

truly see me glide past? Although my legs propel me forward, my mindset is stationary.

Prowling. Knowledge proves to be a worthy prey. I run, compete, yearn, work, and focus.

“You’re a quick thinker,” my classmates exclaim. Slowing down, I can see my life. A cheetah is

not strong for its speed - it is strong for its determination

The transparent air, an unseen, vital guest

The flowing water, putting life to test

The towering trees, offering shade while keeping skies bright

The mighty sun, bringing the world its light

The simple earth, nurturing all life to thrive

For these great gifts of nature, we are truly alive

I'm thankful for the sunrise

because it reminds me that everyday is a new day.

I'm thankful for the trees

that makes the world feel calmer when

things get stressful.

I'm thankful for rivers

that keep moving forward, even when the path twists.

I'm thankful for the mountains

because they represent how strong nature can be.

I'm thankful for the night sky

with stars that show up when everything else is quiet, and make the world feel bigger than I can imagine.

I’m thankful for the bright blue sky,

And trees that stretch their leaves up high.

I’m thankful for the soft green grass,

And gentle winds that slowly pass.

I’m thankful for the warm sunshine too.

Nature gives gifts,

and I’m thankful for you.

I am thankful for the lakes full of fish to catch

Thankful for the ponds to watch the sunset over

Thankful for the amazing views this world gives us.

Thankful for all the trails to walk on.

Thankful for everything this world shows and gives us.

And thankful for the mountains and the hills.

(inspired by the Haudenosaunee Native American Tribe's Thanksgiving Address)

I'm thankful for the trees, the way they lift their arms to the sky, like they are teaching me to reach for my dreams. Their leaves whisper in soft green languages, reminding me that even standing still, I can feel like I'm growing. I'm thankful for the flowers, small miracles blooming out of nothing, unafraid to be delicate, yet still take up space. They color the world with courage, teaching me beauty doesn't ask for permission, it just arrives. I'm thankful for the lakes, those mirrors of the mountains and moon, where silence settles like a blanket, and thoughts float easily. Water knows every version of peace, and somehow it lends a little of it, to anyone who lays beside it. I'm thankful for the sunsets, the way the sky blushes itself to sleep. Every evening is a reminder, that endings can be gentle, and even the sun knows how to leave softly, and still come back brighter. I'm thankful for the stars, those scattered blessings across the night, proof that even in darkness, these are things that choose to shine. They keep their promises quietly, glowing from a million miles away, yet still lighting the path for us below. All in these pieces of the world, trees, flowers, lakes, sunsets, stars, I find a thousand reasons to breathe deeper, to hold life with gentler hands, and to be grateful, for every gift. For every beautiful thing around me, reminds my heart of one truth. God paints this world to be living inside, His Masterpiece.

It's that time of the year we gather

We set this table to feast before the sun goes down

We say what we're thankful for until the timer goes out

I'm thankful for the greenery in the world to flourish my eyes

and the shining ocean blue sky for the times I admire from aside

I'm thankful for the animals that help balance this world

and for the crops our people grow to fill our homes

and finally mother nature who blessed us with this world.

For as long as I remember

Acknowledge the truth

My family’s always been here for me

In light, in dark, in aging and youth

Love and hope, through it all
You know I’m truly thankful.

Adoring the Decor

As I sit with hot chocolate in hand,

Watching seasonal films,

My mother invites me to something grand:

The decorating of the Christmas tree.

As ornaments are brought from the basement,

And laid across the floor,

We grab tinsel and laugh in embracement,

Of decorating the family Christmas tree.

My dad wraps shiny banners, lights as well,

My brother hangs soft toys,

As the pine scent grows apparent to smell,

We finished decorating the family Christmas tree.

As we witness the iridescent sight,

Glowing in the dark room,

We hug and smile, the season feels right,

After decorating the old, adorned family Christmas tree.

Like a Flavorful food dish 

        LAughter erupts from our mouths

          Music moves our hips

           Immense joy I feel with them

           Love is always in our home

  Each Year, I’m always grateful for my loved ones.

Winter, a time where people see it as a very depressing season. 

The heaviness of work and school weighs the shoulders of those around you.

The feeling of how you can't wait for a new season to begin or for a new chapter in your life to open faster.

But think about it, you have to have the best mentality to make things around you seem better.

Think about the joy that comes when you hear the laughter around the neighborhood when families come together. 

When people finally get to go back home and feel safe.

The snow that floats around the air but barely gets stuck on the ground without having to melt every five seconds.

I know for me, winter isn't the best time of year for my mood to always be exciting.

But the most important thing is the people around me who bring comfort to my life.

Who brings out the good in the bad.

It's not always about, “ it's this time of year again, I wont be able to __” but with the right surroundings and comprehension, your world would come into a rush of happiness. 

When my grandma was alive, Christmas was never quiet.

We turned the dining room table sideways and set up two long white folding tables beside it so they stretched across the room as one. At least twenty black folding chairs surrounded them. Some wobbled, some did not match, but there was always enough space. My grandma made sure of that.

The adults crowded around the tables, laughing too loudly as they played Christmas trivia and Left Right Center. Voices overlapped. Someone always argued about the rules. Someone always cheated just a little. The house felt full of noise, of people, of light.

The kids stayed in the basement. We shut off all the lights so the only glow came from the Christmas tree. The tree was pushed directly in front of the passageway under the stairs, completely blocking it. To hide, we crawled underneath the branches, squeezing past the trunk and ducking under the needles. We played hide and seek for hours, laughing and whispering in the dark. The Mickey Mouse electronic ornaments sang Christmas carols all night long, their voices echoing through the basement.

Eventually, everyone came upstairs. We ate together and laughed constantly. It felt like nothing could ever change.

All of those people were invited because of her. My grandma made sure everyone came. She made sure every relative knew each other, spoke to each other, belonged.

After she passed, the house began to change.

The three tables turned into one. Each year, fewer people showed up. The games of hide and seek disappeared. The basement stayed quiet. Laughter turned into conversations about my grandma and shared tears. The adults became less rowdy, and the room felt bigger than it should have.

But slowly, the family is finding its way back.

A few more chairs are pulled out each year. The table grows longer again. The laughter is softer, but it is real. We still talk about her, because she is the reason we ever gathered in the first place.

My grandma was the light in our family. Even though she is gone, that light did not disappear. It learned how to live in us, guiding us back to one another, reminding us how to gather, how to love, and how to make room.

He had a dream that one day equality will rise 

That one day little white and black kids won't see each other for their color 

but for their thoughts and their minds. 

Decades later, the world is a mess from all this distress 

Fear and anger are emotions we no longer suppress

while the man sits in the office and ignores the pleas 

As the followers undo all the work our leaders made for the free

So we rally up to protest on the streets

As we chant and yell: We want to be seen

We want to be seen for the children who cannot express who they are 

We want to be seen for the families who are wrongly ripped apart and thrown to a place they never seen

We want to be seen for the wrongful parties that rip apart our society

Making this land a biohazard of hate while calling it "the land of the free"

The inequality is growing and the discrimination is up spreading like flames

This place we say is the land of the free is built on lies and shame 

I have a dream that one day people are going to be kind to one another

I have a dream that people are going to help others 

I have a dream that we can change 

We have a dream that people can change 

We have a dream that all we be equal 

Do you think we all can change the world?

Everyone has a dream to change for the best 

Everyone can change the world together 

Everyone and everything can change

We just have to try.

Have you ever had dreams of change in our society?

I have a dream, where we can all accept each other no matter what race we are. 

I have a dream that everyone works together to reform society. 

I have a dream, where people do not rely on things that hurt the environment. 

I have a dream, that people feel free to be themselves without relying on validation from others.
Do you want to make this change?

I have a dream that we can take care of nature and animals and not take advantage of them.

We can work together to grow as a society.

We can work together to achieve equality and peace.

We can work together to heal the environment.

Are you determined enough to change the world?

I have a dream-- a dream for earth,

The planet that give us air to breath,

Water to drink,

And a place to call home.

I have a dream that we will treat the earth with kind and respect,

As something to protect,

Not to own,

As something to share among people,

No to use as a trash place,

But as something to value.

I dream of a clean ocean with no plastic or trash waste,

Of forests standing not burning,

Of a sky that’s blue not just in pictures but in real life,

I dream of a world where progress does not mean to damage the world.

What kind of future do we want?

What will the next generation get from us?

If we continue to take it without giving it back.

I have a dream that our generation will change our habits,

Recycle more, waste less, care deeper,

That we will take care of this earth.

Let us be the people that restore what was destroyed,

And protect what remains,

Lets respect the balances of nature.

Let us act not tomorrow, not someday, but now.

I have a dream that we will take care of our world,

Because when we protect our planted,

We protect everyone.

It's easy, it comes naturally 

All you need is love

America is a place of freedom.

Sometimes that freedom is unified.

How is it defined?

It is defined in our hearts.

"We the people."

That means all people.

We shall remember the forgotten.

No one shall be seen as forbidden.

America,

Like a volcano that is ready to erupt,

Is still the home and comfort of many.

But some find joy in a place that is corrupt

At times, America is not a desired home for any.

Many different races and ethnicity,

All the way from California to New York City.

Freedom and equality are praised,

But to make a change takes more than just days.

While the government is slowly falling apart,

Some still have hope in their heart.

After we stop fighting and accept who has won,

Peace will come when all is done.

America wears a smile like gold in the sun

But shadows stretch where the rivers run

Dreams rise high then quietly fall

Some voices loud while other stay small

The street hums songs of hope and pride

Yet pain and struggle walk beside

A land of freedom bold and wide

Still holds stories it tries to hide

Money talks louder than hearts can speak

Leaving the strong to ignore the weak

Justice stands tall but sometimes bends

Depending on power, wealth and friends

The flag waves proud in skies so blue

But not every promise feels fully true

Like a mirror cracked but shining bright

America glows yet hides its fight

Still though the dark a spark remains

A chance to grow to break the chains

For even flawed this land can be

A place of change and possibility

In the wild there's a pond

Where many species crawl

They work together to live

Bound the needs off from each other

Together they make an ecosystem

A stable one for all

Just like this country it’s diverse

In the pond there's a tree frog next to a toad

Then there's the duck with a sparrow on its nose

All different but together

Like the pond our country is diverse

different races all around

America red, white and blue

In this country it shows all the colors of you

From black to white, tan to olive,

we are united in one land

America our home sweet home

A place our founding fathers made

So we can have a place to call home

America Our Pond.

America is like a flowing river that washes one with freedom

A river that sparked a new beginning for many

A country that provides opportunity and hope to one own’s custom

And clothes citizens with freedom and rights from birth Excellency and morality lies in the heart of America beliefs

Liberty, and justice is something that our country holds worth

Grateful that this country provides a mixture of culture and possibility!

What a relief!

America the home of dreams, and freedom

The home of a patriotic history

The home of our where my dreams and others can come true

A home that’s not entirely perfect but a home with a promising future.

America, my home, a patchwork sky so wide,

Where dreams walk freely, side by side.

A land of acceptance, still learning each day,

Finding new hope in a different way.

Through religious stories and voices unique,

Strength in the courage of those who speak.

An alliance of hearts, both fragile and strong,

Holding together where we all belong.

Though life can feel expensive, heavy to bear,

There’s kindness and warmth in moments we share.

With individualism lighting each soul’s flame,

No two journeys are ever the same.

With citizen rights held close like a guiding flame,

Each voice has power, each soul has a name.

So here we stand, diverse yet not apart,

A patchwork of courage, a collective heart,

Different in stories, but in spirit we gather,

Together we spell America.

I enter Precalculus,

equations in my mindset.

I prepare for the new quiz,

In preparation for Calculus.

Advanced Placement English next,

College readiness at hand. 

The College Board will soon test,

with the reward of college credits.

History records await,

More essays to accomplish.

Interpret each document,

for potential college credits.

I enter shop one last time,

time to design one more house.

I view the classroom once more,

Middlesex College is waiting.

I take a deep breath and for a second I look around my surroundings and realization hits me like whiplash, how much have I changed. Looking at old pictures, I realize that some people who I thought would stick with me till the end, no longer spoke to me. When old family friends mention past stories of events that supposedly happened but I can’t recall. Reading books or watching movies that I used to say I would never understand why people would say are one of the best pieces of media, now they resonate with me to a deeper level. Now looking at myself in the mirror at times it feels surreal the person I’ve become. I traded a softball glove for a pair of wrestling shoes, coding lessons for a carpentry manual, and the spotlight of a theater stage for the rush of the culinary industry. Friends have gone by, and some who I never expected were there in my most important moments. I turn the page now and look at what my future could possibly hold. Improving my wrestling and making my district proud is what I strive for in my athletic career. Learning to build with the manuals I was given is something I hope to do. Keeping up with work is what I aspire for my culinary career in the future. In all honesty I don’t know what the future has in store for me, and neither did I in the past but, now here I am.

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. talked about a dream

where people are judged by who they are,

not how they look.

That happens when we stop assuming things

about people we really don’t know.

when we treat everyone the same

instead of picking sides.

It’s in small moments

Including someone,

Standing up for a friend,

or just choosing respect.

This dream isn't something huge or impossible. It starts with how we act every day.

There once was a man who existed on this land

He marched on the streets and loudly preached 

“I have a dream” 

But it wasn't a dream he made in his sleep,

But a dream that he wished for the future to see

His words made an impact that should of been celebrated even to this day

Very little are accepted, many are shut out 

So if we sit and think

What are 3 big steps we can make to help our communities feel complete? 

Step one would be to accept each other for our differences

Embrace different cultures and food for all to feel welcomed to

Step two would be to save and preach for others just like the man who used to preach peacefully on the streets 

Step three would to be united together as a team and as a family 

For we are all human no matter the skin, identity or beliefs!

There once was a man who existed on this land

He marched on the streets and loudly preached, 

“I have a dream” 

And his name was Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

Dream big, like King,  let your voice ring

For a world where kindness takes charge,

No hate allowed, only love glows 

Where everyone can learn and grow 

Kindness can go and spread a long way, be a helping hand,

In this world, we all stand,

No matter the color, shape, or sound,

Peace and love, all around

 "I have a dream, that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character." - MLK

Judging a book by its cover

Has always been bad

But many people in the world

Judge harshly and its sad

People judge based on height, looks, and race

Without a thought, giving disgrace

To many who work to maintain peace

Please give them a chance, at least

Look deep inside, and see their character

Their personality, and also their behavior

To change a viewpoint and finally see

The one you see who is full of beauty

I also have a dream 

I dream of a world where we could live in peace and harmony

A world where the heart is seen first, and not skin color

The meek will speak, and every voice will be heard

Like birds, we will spread our wings and soar ahead to equality

As flowers bloom, we will rise and grow, reaching towards 

Justice for all to know

Togetherness is here, but there is fear

We shall come together as one so 

Freedom will be won.

Let us learn to see with more than our eyes,

To look past the surface, past shades and disguise.

For skin is just color, a cover, a tone,

But the heart tells the story of who we have grown.

We are more than first glances and labels put in,

More than the color that covers our skin.

We are stories and dreams and lessons we’ve learned,

We are love and resilience, the bridges we’ve burned.

In laughter and kindness, in courage and care,

In how we show up and in how we are fair,

That’s where true character quietly lives,

In the love that we offer, the grace that we give.

Dr. King saw a future where children could stand,

Hand in hand, in a fair and united land.

Where hearts were the measure, and character too,

Where justice was real and equality true.

That future is built in the choices we make,

In the words that we share and the paths that we take.

So let us be builders of bridges, not walls,

Answering kindness whenever it calls.

Let our hearts lead the choices we make every day,

So his dream can live on in each word that we say.

We honor the dream in silence,

In listening more than we speak

In learning the truths previously ignored

So all can live equally in the world we live in.

We honor the dream, amongst others

Within education and society

Where fairness is a belief, not a promise

Standing up for those who are unjustly treated.

We honor the dream by measuring others

Measuring through the content of character

Putting race aside to judge others as equals

Judging through our methods of caring for one another.

We honor his dream, continuing through time

Living in our daily actions of hope

Living through each of our empathetic choices

Choosing to build the nation, in honor of Dr. King’s dream.

I see the streets split down the middle,

shadows leaning heavily on bright faces,

hands shaking over screens,

words sharp as frost.

And we talk past each other,

our histories like chains we forget to break,

children learning to fear before they learn to speak,

Their laughter caught in the wires we’ve built.

Somewhere, someone pours tea for the stranger,

let the stories roll slow like soft rain,

listens until the storm lifts enough

for a single spark of understanding.

I hear the city hum with anger,

The screens alive with blame,

voices shouting over other voices

while the quiet ones fade into the cold.

Somewhere, hands reach out across the table,

notes are left at doors,

a song drifts through an open window,

small, persistent, aching with hope.

And the spark grows

not in the fire of fury,

but in the weight of care,

in courage shared,

in the listening, the naming, the slow turning of hearts.

Can we see it? Can we feel it?

The road is long, the wind is hard,

And sometimes it feels like hope is too small to hold.

But a spark, a hand, a single voice

can bend the night enough to see stars.

So we keep passing it,

We keep building what the world forgot to teach:

that mercy is louder than anger,

that love lasts longer than hate,

that the smallest act can carve a path

through all the noise we call our lives.

Somewhere, someone listens.

Somewhere, someone opens a hand.

And that spark

That spark is enough.

I have a dream too

I have a dream that one day, hate in general will end.

No matter what that hate is

No matter your skin color

No matter your ethnicity

No matter your sexuality

No matter your religion

No matter if you’re sick, healthy, thick or thin.

One day we can join hands and live in peace and unity; doesn't that sound nice?

Doesn’t that sound like the life you want to live?

One day, we will say, but sometimes the hate doesn’t stop.

People are still called names, they still get bullied, and people still get looked down upon.

Why are some people like this? Do you feel better about yourselves?

We are all human

We all have hearts

We all have brains

We all have feelings.

We need this to end.

One day, we will say, but it will only get better if all of you guys help and come together.

This one day can be today

This one day can change someone’s life

This one day, humanity will be restored.

I imagine a world where opportunity

doesn’t depend on your zip code.

Where education is equal,

where finishing school is expected,

not exceptional.

I imagine classrooms that see minds

before labels,

potential before appearance,

ability before assumptions.

Why should race decide respect?

Why should gender, looks, or ethnicity

decide someone’s value?

Why should anyone have to explain

Why do they deserve dignity?

I believe in peace that shows up daily—

in how we speak,

in how we forgive,

in how we treat one another.

“For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins”

(Matthew 6:14–15)

So let forgiveness be strength, not weakness.

Let fairness replace judgment.

Let respect extend to every human

and every living creature.

Equal education.

Equal respect.

Equal chance at a peaceful life.

Not someday—

now.

They walked into the noise of war,

Not knowing what was waiting there,

The sky was loud, the ground would shake,

But still they chose to care.

Like waves that crash but don't give in,

They stood through fear and pain,

Holding on to hope and light

In storms of fire and rain.

They wrote back home with trembling hands,

Their words both strong and true,

Saying, "I will fight for peace,

For me, for them, for you."

Now rows of white stones line the ground,

Like quiet, endless rows,

Each one holds a story

That only heaven knows.

So on this day, we stop and think

Of all they gave away,

They gave their lives for our tomorrow-

That's why we honor them today.

It's been 250 years

Since America first began

Not perfect from the start

but trying it's best.

There were fights and hard times

and not everything was fair

But we kept going forward

Because we believed in something

We still argue and change

and we don't always agree

but that't part of being a country

that's still trying to be free

After all this time,

we are still learning about what to do

because America's story

is still being written by me and you.