by Nathaniel Waterman, Class of 2022
in this capsule
i. Unapologetic Sonnet 2 by India-Mae Fraser, Class of 2023
ii. Photograph by Nathaniel Waterman, Class of 2022
iii. The Core by Mirielle Yampolsky, Class of 2022 [cw: death, racism, homophobia]
iv. Photograph by Nathaniel Waterman, Class of 2022
v. The DEVIL by Noah Tolentino, Class of 2021 [cw: racism]
vi. "We Will Survive," A Revolutionary Parody of "I Will Survive" by Noah Tolentino, Class of 2021
ii. Photograph by Nathaniel Waterman, Class of 2022
iii. The Core by Mirielle Yampolsky, Class of 2022 [cw: death, racism, homophobia]
iv. Photograph by Nathaniel Waterman, Class of 2022
v. The DEVIL by Noah Tolentino, Class of 2021 [cw: racism]
vi. "We Will Survive," A Revolutionary Parody of "I Will Survive" by Noah Tolentino, Class of 2021
i.
Unapologetic Sonnet 2
by India-Mae Fraser, Class of 2023
by India-Mae Fraser, Class of 2023
I find it harder to stand tall as I gaze at this mountain of women who have come before me.
Take a deep breath, bid my sisters goodbye, and begin my climb.
I pass Ms. Angelou and Madame Beauvoir poring over pages of manifestos
While Ms. Steinem bites her nails and awaits their critiques.
I pause for a moment to ask Rosie how to get to the summit, but she doesn’t answer.
Instead, Coretta hands me a map of words and points at the sky.
“Only way to go is up,” she says. So that’s the way I go.
Justice Ginsburg stops me on my way, simply to hang white lace around my throat.
She nods proudly before she lets me go.
Malala and Chimamanda hand me a crown of broken glass when I finally reach the top
Of this grand Everest of icons.
But right behind me comes another girl, legs and arms just as weary from the climb.
She asks me how to get to the summit.
All I can say is, “Only way to go is up.”
Take a deep breath, bid my sisters goodbye, and begin my climb.
I pass Ms. Angelou and Madame Beauvoir poring over pages of manifestos
While Ms. Steinem bites her nails and awaits their critiques.
I pause for a moment to ask Rosie how to get to the summit, but she doesn’t answer.
Instead, Coretta hands me a map of words and points at the sky.
“Only way to go is up,” she says. So that’s the way I go.
Justice Ginsburg stops me on my way, simply to hang white lace around my throat.
She nods proudly before she lets me go.
Malala and Chimamanda hand me a crown of broken glass when I finally reach the top
Of this grand Everest of icons.
But right behind me comes another girl, legs and arms just as weary from the climb.
She asks me how to get to the summit.
All I can say is, “Only way to go is up.”
ii.
by Nathaniel Waterman, Class of 2022
iii.
The Core
by Mirielle Yampolsky, Class of 2022
by Mirielle Yampolsky, Class of 2022
We are all beings of this earth.
We breathe.
We live.
We die.
Every person passing by the other on а crowded street, catching the shy eye of someone they
once knew.
Each person staring off into the distance as they listen to a song about someone else’s lover.
Even the twins who look identical, those who carry the same genes, they are not the same.
They are watching clouds go by yet they are thousands of miles away from each other, yet are
still breathing the same air.
We are all children of this earth.
It has blessed us with air to breathe, water to drink, and a sun to lightly singe our lashes whilst
we close our eyes to listen for the birds.
But like every elementary school teacher likes to remind us, there is more to the earth than its
shell.
Within it sits a burning center that churns and changes the earth in ways it took scientists years to
imagine.
The core.
The idea that we can not see the driving force behind the place we call our home, seems
uncomfortable and unpredictable.
Yet, we have instilled in ourselves that we must know all by simply feeling or seeing.
First impressions are everything.
The look they just cast means they grew up rich and privileged, they’ve surely never worked
a day in their life.
The girl sitting there is obviously unkept and poor because her braid isn’t placed like on the doll
we saw in the window as a child.
The young man who wears those shoes must be gay because no real man would ever dress that
way.
The color of her skin means she speaks in a way that will never get her hired.
Their weight means that they are not worthy of love.
Confidence does not equate to cocky.
Expression does not equate to a lack of beauty.
An outfit does not equate to a free pass to someone’s sexuality.
The color of one's skin does not equate to their eloquence or poise.
Someone’s number on a scale does not equate to the amount of love they should receive.
And the heart that beats in one's chest does not cease to break when we choose to send judging
stares their way.
We read books to try and understand the earth.
We watch movies.
We hear stories.
We go out and explore.
But on this earth stand human beings.
And even scientists can only begin to imagine how to figure our species out.
So there must be one answer.
Let’s actually look.
To hear and discover each other's stories.
Let’s actually try.
Take time to evaluate our differences.
Let’s go to each other’s center and take time to learn our truths.
Let’s learn to understand the core.
We breathe.
We live.
We die.
Every person passing by the other on а crowded street, catching the shy eye of someone they
once knew.
Each person staring off into the distance as they listen to a song about someone else’s lover.
Even the twins who look identical, those who carry the same genes, they are not the same.
They are watching clouds go by yet they are thousands of miles away from each other, yet are
still breathing the same air.
We are all children of this earth.
It has blessed us with air to breathe, water to drink, and a sun to lightly singe our lashes whilst
we close our eyes to listen for the birds.
But like every elementary school teacher likes to remind us, there is more to the earth than its
shell.
Within it sits a burning center that churns and changes the earth in ways it took scientists years to
imagine.
The core.
The idea that we can not see the driving force behind the place we call our home, seems
uncomfortable and unpredictable.
Yet, we have instilled in ourselves that we must know all by simply feeling or seeing.
First impressions are everything.
The look they just cast means they grew up rich and privileged, they’ve surely never worked
a day in their life.
The girl sitting there is obviously unkept and poor because her braid isn’t placed like on the doll
we saw in the window as a child.
The young man who wears those shoes must be gay because no real man would ever dress that
way.
The color of her skin means she speaks in a way that will never get her hired.
Their weight means that they are not worthy of love.
Confidence does not equate to cocky.
Expression does not equate to a lack of beauty.
An outfit does not equate to a free pass to someone’s sexuality.
The color of one's skin does not equate to their eloquence or poise.
Someone’s number on a scale does not equate to the amount of love they should receive.
And the heart that beats in one's chest does not cease to break when we choose to send judging
stares their way.
We read books to try and understand the earth.
We watch movies.
We hear stories.
We go out and explore.
But on this earth stand human beings.
And even scientists can only begin to imagine how to figure our species out.
So there must be one answer.
Let’s actually look.
To hear and discover each other's stories.
Let’s actually try.
Take time to evaluate our differences.
Let’s go to each other’s center and take time to learn our truths.
Let’s learn to understand the core.
iv.
by Nathaniel Waterman, Class of 2022
v.
The DEVIL
by Noah Tolentino, Class of 2021
by Noah Tolentino, Class of 2021
...is in the details. For centuries, humans’ depiction of evil has been dominated by the same few characteristics and more or less remained the same as it evolved throughout the ages. Puritanism was the epitome of piety and devotion to God, whose avoidance in pursuit of the immoral and wicked would inevitably lead to fire and brimstone, or God’s wrath. Meanwhile, one of the biggest questions romanticism focuses on pertains to what is out there for individuals to discover, with added emphasis on insanity. Both of these were influenced by the sign of the times, and a mix of the two together would surely result in a blend of mystery and fear. In the 1824 romantic folk tale “The Devil and Tom Walker,” Washington Irving’s Old Scratch, the allegorical devil, calls attention to conservative and suspicious religious views associating blackness with evil that were common in the Puritan time period during which it takes place, warning against fear-based motives and racially charged ideas concerning westward expansion in early-nineteenth-century America.
Irving expects an audience that reads between the lines and deciphers his intentions for themselves using the various context clues he gives them, making use of historical allusions to draw connections between elements of the past both factual and fictitious. In the beginning, readers meet the short story’s antagonist, promptly named Old Scratch, and the writer greets them with an equally vivid description of his facial complex and physical appearance: “His face was neither black nor copper colour, but swarthy and dingy and begrimed with soot, as if he had been accustomed to toil among fires and forges” (Irving 2). As a subtle abolitionist, Washington plays devil’s advocate against the institution of slavery, highlighting the darkness of skin tone as an essential element in American social concepts, mostly as an undesirable trait. Why? Enslaved people in the United States have always been forced into the most difficult positions of labor and suffered marks not unlike that of Washington’s character, whilst Native Americans are used as a mascot, were persecuted against and even eliminated—all at the hands of the Caucasian race, thus leading to Irving’s next interesting quote: “Since the red men have been exterminated by you white savages, I amuse myself by presiding at the persecutions of quakers and anabaptists; I am the great patron and prompter of slave dealers, and the grand master of the Salem witches” (3). Later on in the story, Tom is seen as a violent church-goer as he tries in vain to become a good Christian in order to save himself from Old Scratch, even after he has been marked for death; yet, rather ironically, he talks of “the expediency [convenience] of reviving the persecution of quakers and anabaptists” (7), the very same undertaking mentioned earlier by Lucifer himself (speaking of the devil!).
Satan is an incredibly tricky opponent to deal with; he has the power to seal away victims’ futures over a single mistake. The author draws on a literary device later used in Treasure Island known as The Black Spot to officially pronounce a verdict of the protagonist’s guilt and judgement. As Tom Walker and Old Scratch part ways for the first time, Tom asks why he should trust him, and Lucifer’s response is to leave a token of his devilish influence behind: “He found the black print of a finger burnt, as it were, into his forehead, which nothing could obliterate” (4). The Mark of the Beast, a demonic inscription on one’s hand or forehead, is the symbol of opposition to God. Once given, there is no way it can be erased. While Mr. Walker, surrounded by religion, tries to protect himself, he simply cannot escape Satan’s supreme authority. The time has come for him to die, and as soon as Tom puts the Bible down, he gets taken: “Shortly after, a thunderbolt fell in that direction which seemed to set the whole forest ablaze” (8). Here, a reminder of the higher powers that have complete and total control over Walker’s destiny are brought to light to show that the fate of the main protagonist is final.
As for his wife, she suffers a similar outcome. Tom Walker’s wife is not the ideal Puritan woman, as she constantly argues with him and is easily tempted by the Devil instead of being the stereotypical harbinger of moral upbringing, leading to both of their sinful behavior and eventual demise. When Tom searches for his termagant of a woman missing in the woods and comes across nothing but a heart and liver tied up in her check apron, he knows that something absolutely, positively terrible happened here: “She must have died game however; for it is said Tom noticed many prints of cloven feet deeply stamped about the tree, and several handsful of hair, that looked as if they had been plucked from the coarse black shock of the woodsman” (5). Hooves are a deadfall sign of dancing with the devil, so it stands to reason and is safe to say that she was taken by him back to his hellish abode.
New Englanders at this time didn’t like the idea of a shortcut, or to go off the beaten path, because they believed bad fortune would become of them if they did. Even the Native Americans’ fort is made to represent the gateway to hell. By connecting the ethnic and diverse with the sacrilegious, this allegory makes a bold statement about America’s culture and values. Although it is important to remember: Never make a deal with the devil if one wants to live.
Irving expects an audience that reads between the lines and deciphers his intentions for themselves using the various context clues he gives them, making use of historical allusions to draw connections between elements of the past both factual and fictitious. In the beginning, readers meet the short story’s antagonist, promptly named Old Scratch, and the writer greets them with an equally vivid description of his facial complex and physical appearance: “His face was neither black nor copper colour, but swarthy and dingy and begrimed with soot, as if he had been accustomed to toil among fires and forges” (Irving 2). As a subtle abolitionist, Washington plays devil’s advocate against the institution of slavery, highlighting the darkness of skin tone as an essential element in American social concepts, mostly as an undesirable trait. Why? Enslaved people in the United States have always been forced into the most difficult positions of labor and suffered marks not unlike that of Washington’s character, whilst Native Americans are used as a mascot, were persecuted against and even eliminated—all at the hands of the Caucasian race, thus leading to Irving’s next interesting quote: “Since the red men have been exterminated by you white savages, I amuse myself by presiding at the persecutions of quakers and anabaptists; I am the great patron and prompter of slave dealers, and the grand master of the Salem witches” (3). Later on in the story, Tom is seen as a violent church-goer as he tries in vain to become a good Christian in order to save himself from Old Scratch, even after he has been marked for death; yet, rather ironically, he talks of “the expediency [convenience] of reviving the persecution of quakers and anabaptists” (7), the very same undertaking mentioned earlier by Lucifer himself (speaking of the devil!).
Satan is an incredibly tricky opponent to deal with; he has the power to seal away victims’ futures over a single mistake. The author draws on a literary device later used in Treasure Island known as The Black Spot to officially pronounce a verdict of the protagonist’s guilt and judgement. As Tom Walker and Old Scratch part ways for the first time, Tom asks why he should trust him, and Lucifer’s response is to leave a token of his devilish influence behind: “He found the black print of a finger burnt, as it were, into his forehead, which nothing could obliterate” (4). The Mark of the Beast, a demonic inscription on one’s hand or forehead, is the symbol of opposition to God. Once given, there is no way it can be erased. While Mr. Walker, surrounded by religion, tries to protect himself, he simply cannot escape Satan’s supreme authority. The time has come for him to die, and as soon as Tom puts the Bible down, he gets taken: “Shortly after, a thunderbolt fell in that direction which seemed to set the whole forest ablaze” (8). Here, a reminder of the higher powers that have complete and total control over Walker’s destiny are brought to light to show that the fate of the main protagonist is final.
As for his wife, she suffers a similar outcome. Tom Walker’s wife is not the ideal Puritan woman, as she constantly argues with him and is easily tempted by the Devil instead of being the stereotypical harbinger of moral upbringing, leading to both of their sinful behavior and eventual demise. When Tom searches for his termagant of a woman missing in the woods and comes across nothing but a heart and liver tied up in her check apron, he knows that something absolutely, positively terrible happened here: “She must have died game however; for it is said Tom noticed many prints of cloven feet deeply stamped about the tree, and several handsful of hair, that looked as if they had been plucked from the coarse black shock of the woodsman” (5). Hooves are a deadfall sign of dancing with the devil, so it stands to reason and is safe to say that she was taken by him back to his hellish abode.
New Englanders at this time didn’t like the idea of a shortcut, or to go off the beaten path, because they believed bad fortune would become of them if they did. Even the Native Americans’ fort is made to represent the gateway to hell. By connecting the ethnic and diverse with the sacrilegious, this allegory makes a bold statement about America’s culture and values. Although it is important to remember: Never make a deal with the devil if one wants to live.
vi.
"We Will Survive," A Revolutionary Parody of "I Will Survive"
by Noah Tolentino, Class of 2021
by Noah Tolentino, Class of 2021
At first we were afraid, we were petrified
Kept thinking we could never live without you by our side
But then we spent so many days thinking how you did us wrong
And we grew strong
And we learned how to get along
But now we’re done
You set our space
You enforce us with your soldiers like you think we’re a disgrace
And you tax us to no end, the law’s on everything you send
Your control has just delivered our alliance to an end
Why did you have
To start a war
We could have been the best of partners for forever more
And while you do these things to us we have to wonder why
Did you think we'd crumble
Did you think we’d lay down and die?
Oh no, not us, we will survive
We’ll find a way to join and then when your army arrives
We’ll have militia there to fight
We don’t care about your might, and we’ll survive
We will survive, hey, hey
It took all the strength we had not to fall apart
But finally your scandalous unfairness gave us heart
We held a congress and decided to join against you
And now it’s time
For punishment for your crimes, and you’ll see us
A country new
We’re not those puny little settlers made to work for you
And if you feel like dropping in?
Well, just expect us to be free
‘Cause we won’t tolerate your tyranny and tax on our tea
Why did you have
To start a war?
The Boston Massacre
You just proceeded to ignore
Why do you think that of your stamps we will buy
Oh, we will answer
But with a battle cry!
And in the end, we will survive
Oh, as long as we don’t follow you, we know we’ll stay alive
We’ve got all our lives to give
For a better place to live, and we’ll survive
We will survive
Oh
Why did you have
To start a war?
Just turn around now
'Cause you're not welcome anymore
How come you do things to us without our reply?
Did you think we’d settle
Did you think on you we’d rely?
Oh no, not us, we will survive
Oh, as long as we don’t follow you, we know we’ll stay alive
We’ve got all our lives to give
For a better place to live, and we’ll survive
We will survive
We will survive
Kept thinking we could never live without you by our side
But then we spent so many days thinking how you did us wrong
And we grew strong
And we learned how to get along
But now we’re done
You set our space
You enforce us with your soldiers like you think we’re a disgrace
And you tax us to no end, the law’s on everything you send
Your control has just delivered our alliance to an end
Why did you have
To start a war
We could have been the best of partners for forever more
And while you do these things to us we have to wonder why
Did you think we'd crumble
Did you think we’d lay down and die?
Oh no, not us, we will survive
We’ll find a way to join and then when your army arrives
We’ll have militia there to fight
We don’t care about your might, and we’ll survive
We will survive, hey, hey
It took all the strength we had not to fall apart
But finally your scandalous unfairness gave us heart
We held a congress and decided to join against you
And now it’s time
For punishment for your crimes, and you’ll see us
A country new
We’re not those puny little settlers made to work for you
And if you feel like dropping in?
Well, just expect us to be free
‘Cause we won’t tolerate your tyranny and tax on our tea
Why did you have
To start a war?
The Boston Massacre
You just proceeded to ignore
Why do you think that of your stamps we will buy
Oh, we will answer
But with a battle cry!
And in the end, we will survive
Oh, as long as we don’t follow you, we know we’ll stay alive
We’ve got all our lives to give
For a better place to live, and we’ll survive
We will survive
Oh
Why did you have
To start a war?
Just turn around now
'Cause you're not welcome anymore
How come you do things to us without our reply?
Did you think we’d settle
Did you think on you we’d rely?
Oh no, not us, we will survive
Oh, as long as we don’t follow you, we know we’ll stay alive
We’ve got all our lives to give
For a better place to live, and we’ll survive
We will survive
We will survive