Alchemist 2015 - White Bear Lake Area Schools

The Alchemist:
The Art of Transformation
Volume 14
2015
THE ALCHEMIST:
The Art of Transformation
©2015 Minnesota Association of Alternative Programs
Editor: Molly Springs ALC Staff & Students
Michelle Peterson
Cover Art: Destiny Garcia – Ivan Sand Community High School
TABLE OF CONTENTS
5. 50 MILES BACK – Bobbie Jo Spangler -Paladin Career & Technical HS
7. PUMPKIN WATERCOLOR AND INK – Amanda Calvert – River Bend ALC
8. COULD DO BETTER – Tessa Christensen – White Bear Lake ALC
9. ABSTRACT LOVE – Anthony Pra – Rochester ALC
10. EVERY MORNING – Nico Crowley – Ivan Sand CHS
11. AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE – Andrew Vega – Jennings CLC
12. FALLING SNOW – Megan Phillips – Grand Rapids ALC
14. BUILDING – Quintin Melcher – Ivan Sand CHS
15. FIGHTING – Alex Smith – Worthington ALC
16. CITY SCAPE – Nicholas Paulsen – Wadena ALC
17. GRADUATION – Rashaan Pomani – Worthington ALC
18. CROSS – Jessica Vutha – Rochester ALC
19. HAIKUS – Pedro Dieguez – Worthington ALC
20. CABIN – Danny Cooper – River Bend ALC
21. HOPE – Andru Nelson – White Bear Lake ALC
22. DESPICABLE – Anastasia Haggenmiller – Jennings CLC
23. I AM FROM – Mariah Campbell – White Bear Lake ALC
24. DRAGON – Brian Rose – STEPS Sauk Rapids/Rice
25. I WONT BE SELFISH – Karina Ostrander – Ivan Sand CHS
26. DRAGON – Claire Dahl – Rochester ALC
27. INCIDENT – Austin Laroen – White Bear Lake ALC
28. FLOWER AND DOTS – Cecilia Spike – Ivan Sand CHS
29. LIGHT OF LIFE – Nico Crowley – Ivan Sand CHS
30. FLY FREE – Camille Weber – BOLD ALC
31. MISFIT – Delajah Frazier – Paladin Career & Technical HS
NATIVE AMERICAN – Dominic Kroulik – Waubun ALC
32. GIRL ON THE COVER – Alana Fackler – River Bend ALC
33. OLD CLASSIC – Brandy LeDoux – Pillager Area Charter School
34. GRENDEL – Taylor Fromm – River Bend ALC
35. OUR WORLD – Trevor Mortinsen – White Bear Lake ALC
36. UNTITLED – Jacob Zimmer – Redwood Area Schools
37. RED – Kylee Novak – Ivan Sand CHS
SOLITUDE – Nico Crowley – Ivan Sand CHS
38. KITTEN – Alexis Savela – Wadena ALC
39. RHYTHYM AND RHYME – Nico Crowley – Ivan Sand CHS
TABLE OF CONTENTS CONT.
40. ONLY GOD CAN JUDGE – Danny Cooper – River Bend ALC
41. ROOM 1643 – Cole Nyberg - Worthington ALC
43.REFURBISHED COFFEE TABLE – Shelena Aredeondo – Redwood Area Schools
44. SKYRIM - Cameron Coile – White Bear Lake ALC
45. ROSE – Jadyn Shumaker – Rochester ALC
46. SOCCER – Ana Marian Costillo – Worthington ALC
47. SCAREY CAT – Brian Rose – STEPS Sauk Rapids/Rice
48. THATS LIFE – Dayna Thompson – Waubun ALC
TIME SQUARE – Evan Johnson – Owatonna ALC
49. STATUE OF LIBERTY – Chandler Asper -STEPS Sauk Rapids/Rice
50. THE BEAST WITHIN – Damon Bevins & Dominic Kroulik – Waubun ALC
51. TOGETHER – Chelsea Jewell – White Bear Lake ALC
52. STRING ART – Tara Flannigan – Jennings ALC
53.UNNOTICABLE - Sara Betharte -White Bear Lake ALC
54. SURREALISM – Katie Currier – River Bend ALC
55. WHERE I AM FROM – Madeline Lodden – White Bear Lake ALC
56. UNTITLED 1 & 2 – Shayne Kathman – Paladin Career & Technical HS
57. WHERE IM FROM – Christopher Stamnes – White Bear Lake ALC
58. UNTITLED 3 – Shayne Kathman – Paladin Career & Technical HS
59. WORK HARD FOR YOURSELF – Linda Rueda – Worthington ALC
YOUR LOVE – Mauricio Rivera – Worthington ALC
60. COLLAGE OF OTHER STUDENTS WORKS
61. SUBMISSION GUIDELINES
62. SUBMTTING SCHOOLS LIST
50 MILES BACK
264,000 feet
50 miles to be exact
The fifty miles we had to travel
to earn our color back
Whips and chains
the white people to blame
We work while they play their dirty little games
A time where “nigger” has become all of our names
Finally freed in 1863
still shackled by a nation of discrimination
we must prove ourselves
Being black does not mean I’m going to attack
all I did was simply smile back
I can’t sit in that spot, my skin is too dark
I can’t attend that school, “negroes” aren’t that smart
I can’t vote for that man, because of the color I am
This is sickening, someone has to take a stand
Little Rock Nine, Nelson Mandela, Frederick Douglass, Rosa
Parks, and Martin Luther King
All names of people who let our freedom ring
Beat, battered, and bruised
a culture still refusing to lose
fighting for dreams, no punches
dedicated to freedom, no lunches
protesting for equality, no violence
marching for rights, no silence
A nation shifts as the years continue
slices of racism still offered on the menu
Common flavors still remain the same
yet bitter options have made themselves a name
A culture once sweetened with peace and equality
now riddled with disrespect and hypocrisy
When did the color of our boxes become superior to the color
of our skin?
Making an entire country think we’re rotten from within
How can we demand respect
when you just robbed a man from his last paycheck
He breaks his back and sweats
trying to provide for his family’s next steps
but all is taken away by teenagers trying to gangbang
claiming trapping is the way instead of an education nowadays
Have fun putting that on a resume
You see, we loot and pollute our own neighborhood
so how do we expect them to treat us good?
Getting mad over a white man killing our brothers,
but we’re doing the same thing to each other
No better are we from one another
so why can’t we learn to love and accept each other
As our generation would put it
We need to make moves
There’s more to our skin color to prove!
Don’t play dumb now, you know what I mean
It’s time to pick our culture up and continue the King’s dream
Bobbie Jo Spangler
Paladin Career & Technical HS
Amanda Calvert
River Bend ALC
COULD DO BETTER
I am from oversized, dreadful costume dresses,
From ugly Barbies with shredded plastic hair and the lung-clogging scent of Marlboro cigarettes.
I am from the strenuous movement back and forth between my separated parents’ homes,
tedious, heavyhearted.
It felt exhausting, constantly feeling the deepest need to escape.
I am from the weeds that grew through the cold, cracked concrete, the hard, plastic, unscented flowers inside
my mothers house.
I’m from the crowded, cherished family reunions on my moms side and Christensen cherry noses,
from Nannette and the humbug source, Robert.
I am from the anger outbursts and sleeping as a way to escape.
I am from “do better” and “you have so much potential,”
From classic Catholicism and lucid Lutherans
I’m from the dirty streets of St. Paul and deep roots that began in Germany.
From smooth, fluffy mashed potatoes and crispy, flaky chicken strips,
From the deaths I've experienced since I was four.
From the constant reminder that everything is on me, “blame yourself.”
In a cold basement on painted white shelves, in books assorted in chronological order, sit glossy photos that
only show the shell of what lies within.
I am from the shrinking strength and pushing me through the dark days of this so called life.
Tessa Christensen
11th Grade
White Bear ALC
Anthony Pra
Rochester ALC
EVERY MORNING
I wake up, fresh as can be
I hurry and stretch 'cuz I have to pee
Walk down the stairs to get some food
Decide to make some pancakes, because I'm in the mood
Take off my pajamas, no clothes on my back
Look through my closet for a pair of slacks
Finish getting dressed, man I look slick
Spray on some cologne so I can get the chicks
Skip down the stairs, careful not to fall
I put in way too much work just to ruin it all
Grabbed my backpack and I walked out the house
Didn't wake up Mom because I'm quiet as a mouse
Waiting for the bus when I felt a sneeze
ACHOO I woke up, oh geez
I scrambled to get ready with no time to spare
I dreamt the whole thing and wasn't aware
Nico Crowley
Gr 12
Ivan Sand CHS
Alternate Universe
Andrew Vega
Jennings CLC
FALLING SNOW
Her palms were sweaty, nails chewed to the nub, her breaths coming out in heavy pants. The pasty concealer that was
smeared over the ugly purple bruise stood out under the dim street light. It didn't match her skin but it was the only one
she had. The falling snow was her only comfort. It chilled her burning skin, dancing within the wind. New Yorkers paid no
mind to the frozen crystalline water, just went about with their night. The streets were crowded with sickly yellow colored
cabs, women in miniskirts and stilettos leaning against the rough brick exterior of Mylo's gas station.
The stained grey hoodie hanging off Estell Blum’s body offered no protection from the harsh winds. She glanced at the
shop behind her, the large picture window displaying a different assortment of clocks and watches. 11:42, she didn't have
much time.
She took a step toward the gas station, her hands shaking violently, the beautiful snow could not calm her anymore. Every
step she took was another spike of pain through her legs. If only she still lived with her brother. He’d protect her from the
vicious onslaught of suffering her father caused her.
"You'll get me the damn bottle and get back here before twelve ya hear?"
The words echoed loudly within her ears and she took another step. The cooling snow now felt like drops of lava on her
skin, it was getting harder to breathe, was the sky falling? Why weren't people running, screaming? Why couldn't she
move? What was happening?
She was shocked back into reality when a cab zoomed by, causing slush to spray up and splash against her pale legs.
Whimpering, she rubbed at her arm, flinching when her fingers grazed over an old bruise.
‘What was that feeling?’ Estell wondered as she forced herself to walk. She felt like she couldn’t breathe, and as she
opened the door to Mylo’s, she still was trying to regain her breath.
Mylo’s had been around for a long time. A small obscure gas station in the little town of Arietta, New York. The
highschool kids alway hung out by the building’s dumpster whenever they deemed class to be particularly boring that day.
When the sun fell and the moon rose, older ladies wearing too much makeup and too little clothes would try to seduce
men from their cars.
Estell would know as her father had done it many times before.
Her filthy once white sneakers squeaked on the blue linoleum floor. The owner didn’t bother to spare her a glance. Estell
grabbed several bottles of her father’s beloved beer from one of the many coolers lining the walls. She hugged the
sweating bottles in her arms and set them on the counter in front of the owner who finally glanced up.
“8.26.” He sighed, not even bothering the scan the barcodes. Estell reached into her pocket and grabbed the wad of
crumpled up bills and set them on the counter. The owner looked like he wanted to say something, but instead, he silently
unwrinkled the bills and added them up. He put the money in the register that made a loud squealing ring when opened.
He gave her back one dollar and seventy six cents and then asked if she wanted a bag.
“No thank you.” Estell answered. She was startled by how quiet and weak she sounded. Gathering up the bottles once
more, she used her back to push open the door and exit the building.
Estell sighed in relief, thankful to once again feel the cold press of snowflakes upon her skin. Having snowflakes in her
hair made her feel pretty, like a princess. It made her want to twirl in circles until she got dizzy and fell into the snow.
Estell held the bottles a tighter to her chest, welcoming the burning cold sensation when the glass pressed up against the
skin on the inside of her wrist. The perspiration from the bottles was soaking up into her sweatshirt, leaving an
uncomfortably wet feeling on her chest.
Candy (Estell had learned her name from chatting with her once outside Mylo’s) was leaning into the passenger window
of an old beat up Honda Civic that had damage to the front bumper and peeling paint. Estell wrinkled her nose as she
passed by. She made brief eye contact with the man at the wheel. Mid 50’s, receding hairline, frown lines, strange looking
bump above right eyebrow, and an unsettling look in his eye. It’d be best to keep some distance.
She focused her gaze upwards, her eyes following the snowflakes as they fell from the sky. After blocking out the noises
surrounding her, (a skill she picked up on when having to endure her father’s many vicious rants) a sense of eerie calm fell
over her once more. Despite the bitter cold weather in New York, Estell quite liked living in the state. ‘The city that never
sleeps.’ She thought with a soft upwards quirk of her lips.
The closer she grew to her house, the slower her steps became. This was a normal occurrence. Fear and anxiety would
always overpower the rest of her senses and let her mind sit and rot in anticipation of oncoming pain.
The only thing that made her feet keep moving was the thought of it being past twelve. 'Oh god, please don't be past
twelve.' Estell prayed, her breaths coming out in short stutters as she made her way up the steps.
The cold brass of the doorknob stung upon coming in contact with her fragile skin. It took a little bit of nervous fumbling
before Estell could get the door open. A blast of warmth hit her, but so did the revolting and unfortunately familiar smell
of a drunken, no good, abusive fool.
Or in other words, her own flesh and blood father.
She leaned into the doorway, peering down the hall. The dimmed outline of her father slouched over in his armchair
caught her vision. She took another deep breath before stepping fully through the door and closing it behind her.
Estell toed off her sopping shoes and shook out the remaining drops of water from her disarrayed chocolate brown hair.
She gave the wall a distressed look, beer bottles still held against her chest tightly.
“I’m home.” Estell called out weakly, entering the living room. Her father grunted something unintelligible. He was in the
same place as when Estell left, glaring his hooded eyes at the blaring television screen.
Estell set one of the bottles down on the coffee table in front of him. With robot like motions, her father popped off the
cap and brought the bottle to his lips for a long drink. Estell turned away, heading for the direction of the fridge. She knew
that her father would want another within the hour, but if it wasn’t cold… The thought brought a ghost pain sensation
under her eye.
Estell’s toes slid under the unstable transition strip in the kitchen entrance. She tripped over it in an awkward manner,
causing the strip to mostly rip out of the ground and the bottles in her hand go flying. Her hands saved her face from
hitting the cold tile, but the bottles shattered and the golden colored liquid quickly flooded under her fingers.
“What was that?” Came the guttural shout from the living room. “N-nothing!” Estell called back, pushing herself upright.
Her foot landed in beer and Estell hissed, pulling it away. Her looked down to see blood oozing slowly from her foot. For
a moment, she just watched as the red and brown liquids intertwined with each other. In a horrific way, it was quite pretty.
But then she heard her father’s footsteps that sounded like the thunder that rattled with windows during a storm. He was
angry, oh, he was very angry. Estell watched as his eyes traveled from her, and then to her feet. His cheeks puffed out like
they do when he stuffs them full of food like a fat chipmunk. Red in the face and pure fury in his eyes, he charged for her.
It was probably the worst beating she had received. Maybe it was because he was drunk, or because he had a bad day, or
maybe he was just driven to his end. Either way, Estell wasn’t sure how she was going to hide all of this. With her cheek
pressed to the floor, and her eyelids feeling heavy, Estell just wanted to cry. Curl up into a ball in the basement and just let
it out for a while.
Her father had left her on the kitchen floor with a huff, but as Estell’s vision faded in and out, she spotted his feet in her
peripheral vision. He reached down and snagged her arm in his grasp, causing excruciating pain from the pressure on the
wound that was already located in that area. Estell’s feet wobbled as she was dragged upwards. Her hands pushed at his as
her gurgling cries went ignored.
Her father heaved her over to the back door and kicked it open before throwing her body out into the snow like she was a
bag of trash. Estell landed on her side, pushing out a soundless scream as her injuries were aggravated.
She heard the back door slam, and then it was just her. The faint sounds of the common New York nightlife flooded her
ears. Snowflakes fell from the sky and onto the ground she was laid out on. Another dose of peace fell over her and Estell
smiled as a frozen flake landed on her cheek.
For the falling snow was her only comfort.
Megan Phillips
Gr 10
Grand Rapids ALC
FIGHTING
All started with the TV
By the time I kew it we're in the streets
All started with us laughing and playing
Then all it was, was crying and anger
All started with us hitting each other then saying sorry
Then all we said was stay down or get down
Only thing we shed was tears of joy
Then all we could shed was blood
It used to be fair like one on one
Then it became unfair like five on one
It used to be friend on friend
Then it became race on race
Or color to color
Our only sign was friendship toward one another
Then our only sign was what set we claimed
It was something we could enjoy
Now all it was, was fear
We used to be playful
now all we had to be was aggressive
We used to be friends
Now we were enemies
We used to use our fist
Now we use weapons
This used to be a game
Then this became life
All I could say this game was no longer fun
Alex Smith
Gr 11
Worthington ALC
City Scape
Nicholas Paulsen
Gr 12
Wadena ALC
GRADUATION
It wasn't what I thought it was at first,
A bowl of cereal and Saturday morning cartoons.
Originally, that's how it was supposed to be.
Nowadays, I barely get to enjoy a Saturday.
Back then, I wanted nothing but to grow up.
I realized now, life wasn't this difficult as a kid.
Time brings changes, and must of it has passed.
From coloring to finishing tons of homework.
“Hakuna Matata”
If only that were true.
The world has taught me many lessons,
Both the good and the bad.
Even as a kid I learned.
No child should know what I knew.
With time, I learned how important school actually is.
Finally,
I know I'm doing something right.
Graduation creeps near, I think I'm ready.
I'm confused, paralyzed, lost in the moment.
A sinking feeling sets in.
I'm intimidated for what my future may hold.
All these questions, I thought I knew all the answers.
I'm not ruining the moment though.
Graduation is here, deep breathes, I'm ready.
Rashaan Pomani
Gr 12
Worthington ALC
Cross
Jessica Vutha
Gr 12
Rochester ALC
SUMMER DAYS
The vibrant green grass
the sun shining bright all day
good weather, don't leave.
WINTER FROST
Winter-terrible
snow falls from the big blue sky
water changes – ice
SPRING WINTER
Snow melts, flowers grow
Winter leaves, spring here we come
Spring is beautiful
Pedro Dieguez
Gr 12
Worthington ALC
Danny Cooper
Gr 12
River Bend ALC
HOPE
I see dirty cars with frosted windows
passing by. I just need a little
just to get fed for today
and hopefully back on my
feet, which are wrapped in hole-filled socks
and numb from the days of
standing outside in the bitter cold.
Seeing other drifters on the street
just like me, hoping for hope,
while I'm getting hit with reality,
on the verge of death.
Hoping when cars stop... then feeling invisible
as they look through us, maybe
looking at my story on my sign made
from weathered cardboard that reads
“anything helps” as they
drive to their destination.
And as I feel no one will save my
lonely soul, I get a blast of
excitement as one generous
life rolls down their frosty window,
and hands me some wrinkled ones;
giving this homeless man hope.
Andru Nelson
Gr 12
White Bear Lake ALC
Despicable Anastasia
Anastasia Haggenmiller
Jennings CLC
I AM FROM
I am from ear shattering 80’s rock music
From swirly colored ice cream and tangy, mature scented twilight woods perfume
I am from the yellow house on the corner
The long driveway, and the squeaky screen door
It felt like home
I am from the fresh cut green grass, slicing my legs while I sat and played
the pink lady slippers growing in my great grandpas yard
I’m from the dice game on Christmas and freckles
from my auntie Amy and my mom Missy
I’m from the obsessive leg shaking and nail biting
I am from “don’t give up” and keep “trying”
from learning to praise Jesus in as many ways as possible
I’m from breezy, cold Germany, yet born in Minnesota
From sweet German chocolate cake & tangy Worcestershire sauce
From my aunt failing at a backflip off a diving board like a penguin trying to fly
The unique laughs heavy, high pitched, or snorting
I am from the pictures filling the tv stand, walls, & counters like frosting on a cake
I am from my wonderfully large family loving me like a small child with a teddy bear
Mariah Campbell
Grade: 12
White Bear Lake ALC
I WON'T BE SELFISH
A surprise before my very eyes!
Preparation would be wise.
Anxiety and frustration have tangled my mind.
For time has come to see what gender I'll find.
Can I five a well-deserved life, work harder and thrive?
Support a fragile soul, being too young not even able to afford to drive.
Questions here, questions there, questions everywhere.
My decision is made, only for the best but I'll let my feelings fade.
Ac ouple I see working so hard to conceive.
Running out of time, being consumed with grief.
Here I am all round and plump, them not knowing I have their new son.
The word spread fast, tears of joy flowed through then, the struggle is over, it's time to have fun.
Months go by, belly gets bigger and my time frame becomes thinner.
People's opinions made me want to reconsider, but I know why I have to deliver.
A family uncompleted, a child is needed.
Almost time, a baby is waiting to be greeted.
I feel a tickle and a wiggle, it is time to push little by little.
Everyone comes to see new life, with a trickle from every eye.
Mid afternoon tired as can be, one last push, now I can see!
My beautiful baby boy, so precious, the best boy I've ever seen.
The time I have with you might be short, but I'll fight my emotions and just hold you tight.
Meeting the family let me know everything would be alright- very polite with warm smile to see.
I love you Shane, you need to know, I would rather never let you go.
But it's not good-bye, I'm always nearby, hush my baby, don't cry.
Karina Ostrander
Gr 12
Ivan Sand CHS
Claire Dahl
Rochester ALC
INCIDENT
Early one morning
Saw this kid
Who hurts women
In the hall
Without thinking
Called him, “Pussy!”
Heard in reply
“I’m not scared.”
Turned back
Knuckles cracked
Looked him
Dead in his eyes
Never breaking contact
While my punches collided
With his
Face
Stomach
Kidneys
Definitely worth it.
Austin Laroen
GR 12
White Bear Lake ALC
LIGHT OF LOVE
Some force draws me to you
Unseen by the eye, an attraction
The light of love, hidden in plain sight
the way we dance makes me so happy
The clues you leave, telling me you care so
Our late at night talks, your cute little goodbyes
L
o
v
e
I
s
t
h
e
f
o
r
c
e
You light up my day every morning
Not yet in love, but I love you all the same
Nico Crowley
Gr 12
Ivan Sand CHS
Fly Free
Camilla Miller
Gr 10
BOLD ALC
MISFITS
Here’s to the kids that were picked last in gym class,
Here’s to the kids that had to grow up too fast, Here’s to the kids wishing their happiness would last.
Be your own hero.
Theres no such thing as being a 0.
You can be in control,
Dont be the one putting on a show.
Cheers To The Misfits.
Keep your heads held high.
Delejah Frazier
Gr 10
Paladin Career & Technical HS
NATIVE AMERICAN
I’m a shade of the color brown
I keep a smile on my face and I never frown
I have pride in my culture.
Never walking with my head down
People say I have a way with words
My people have a way with words.
I bead, I sing, I dance
I hunt, I run, and I breathe.
I am Native, filled with pride
I am Native with the pride of my ancestors beneath
Dominic Kroulik
Gr 9
Waubun ALC
Girl on the Cover
Alana Flacker
Gr 12
River Bend ALC
OLD CLASSIC
American Tattoos
Pain
Tattooing
Joy
A new tattoo is like
A new pet
Buzzing gun
Makes some people cry
Moaning in pain
Can you go too deep?
With the needle
Yes, tattoos tell
Stories
Real or not
Brandy LeDoux
Gr 11
Pillager Area Charter School
Grendel
Taylor Fromm
Gr 12
River Bend ALC
-OUR WORLD-
Thoughts born in the depths of our dreams,
Even the writer cannot interpret all that has been seen.
When these thoughts are more complex than they sometimes seem,
Sometimes it’s quite hard to decipher all that they mean.
Bringing to the table useful lessons I have learned,
Nowadays it isn’t easy to survive in this world of spite.
Working day and night, in order to deserve this life I’ve earned.
But nothing in this world we live in is earned without a fight.
Sometimes things happen in this world we don’t understand;
Terrorists killing for their religion, taking the life of another man,
Threatening lives of innocents, making ransoms and demands.
All while ignorant people are online complaining just because they can.
Our world has fallen into madness--honestly how has it come to this?
People are on the streets getting killed for opposing the governments.
Politicians blaming others, their accusations are often hit and miss.
While kids are caught with drugs, and then face jail or treatment.
Our entire world is falling apart, everything is turning upside down.
It’s like we don't even care, we complain just to fit in with the crowd.
We don’t care about our world, looking down on it with a frown.
Let’s make a change now, make our future children proud .
Trevor Mortinsen
Zentangle
Jacob Zimmer
Redwood Area Schools
RED
Red is Love, Passion and Romance.
It's the taste you have lingering on your lips after kissing your soulmate.
It smells like roses and candles burning.
It make you feel hopeful.
Red is the sound of you crying because you can't imagine being with anyone else.
Red is Sincerity, Comfort and Trust.
Red is my love for you.
Red is your heart moving faster and slower all at the same time.
Red is overwhelming.
Kylee Novak
Gr 11
Ivan Sand CHS
SOLITUDE
I sit alone, free
The world so far out of reach
And I, just living
Nico Crowley
Gr 12
Ivan Sand CHS
Kitten
Alexis Savela
Gr 11
Wadena ALC
RHYTHM AND RYHME
Music soothes
The beautiful melodies
We try to play
We try to learn
Many do not succeed
But some do
They get better
They motivate
Classic
Rock
Fold
Indie
Beat
Soul
Drum
Vocal
Bass
Amps
Keys
Notes
Chords
They inspire
For this is only a generation
Many more souls will be inspired
Wanting to learn, but only some
Many more people will listen
Feeling their message
Their legacy lives on
We will always have it
We will always need music
Ever since there has been a heart
There has been a beat to accompany it
The words we speak, a rhythm to the world
The steps we take, drumbeats to a new tune
Whether we try to keep music alive or not
Just keeping beat and moving along
Just a song stuck in our head
So you never forget
Nico Crowley
Gr 12
Ivan Sand CHS
Only God Can Judge
Danny Cooper
Gr 12
River Bend ALC
ROOM 1643
“911, what's your emergency?” said the operator.
“It's my mom, something wrong. She's coughing up blood and can't breathe!” Jovian shouted.
“Where are you located?” added the operator.
“I'm at home, 3569 Sterling Drive!”
It was a rush, everything was going by so fast. All Jovian saw was flashing light of red, blue, and white
connected to a loud siren that pierced your ears with a sound you wouldn't forget. People were everywhere, a
few were rushing his mother into the ambulance while others were asking all sorts of questions and making sure
he would be okay as well. The ride to the hospital in the ambulance was very bumpy and ended very fast.
Arriving at the hospital he saw more nurses and doctors take his mother away from him and run her down the
hall. A solid think pain struck him as if he was punched right in the throat; his stomach quivered and turned
upside down.
Turning as pale as a ghost a blonde headed nurse with huge glasses and perfect skin grabbed him by his
arm. “Do you want to sit down, are you okay? My name is Cassidy, and I'm an intern for my college class. I just
started, but if there's anything I can help you with just ask. Okay?” Cassidy said very concerned.
Thoughts rushed through his mind like a race car driver going at 200 miles per hour. Is my mom going to
be okay? What's going on? Why did they take her so fast from me? These thoughts never stopped running
through his head. Mary, Jovian's mother, is all he has. Jovian is eighteen and graduated from high school. He
has dirty blonde hair and blue eyes. Jovian has a toned masculine body type with some tattoos. One that sticks
out the most is the snake tattoo that wraps around his arm down to his wrist. Time is passing by and Jovian just
can't keep sitting there; he feels like he's doing nothing to help.
Jovian ran up to Cassidy the blonde headed nurse and sternly said, “I can't sit here any longer. I need to
see my mom.”
Cassidy the nurse looked at her computer and asked, “What's your mother's name?”
“Mary Smith, her name is Mary,” Jovian pleaded.
The nurse directed Jovian down the hall with her pointer finger and told him where the room was. Jovian
ran down the hall as fast as he could, but it felt as if everything went slower at that moment and lasted a life
time. Painted walls of white and blue, white tiled floors, a hallway that seemed to never end. Doctors, nurses,
and other patients, people were everywhere, and it seemed so closed-in like there wasn't enough room to
breathe. Finally a room that read Room 1643 Mary Smith. He bursted into the room and saw his mother laying
there, she laid there breathing in the tiniest amounts of oxygen as if she was being choked. Tubes and wires,
IV's and monitors all connected to his mother as if thee were the only things keeping her alive. He grabbed his
mom's hand and sat next to the bed.
“Mom I'm here; I'll always be right here,” Jovian whispered as his voice craced, and he began to tear up.
A doctor walked into the room and pulled Jovian outside the hall and said five words that devastated
him: “Your mother has lung cancer.”
Jovian felt his stomach drop, his throat swell up and his forehead get hot.
“She has stage four lung cancer and doesn't have long to live, I can't give you an exact measurement, but
I'm very sorry,” the doctor added.
Every moment he ever had with his mother flashed before his eyes. The ways she used to tuck him in at
night and hold him when he cried from nightmare. Her soft gentle touch from a mother's loving hand that could
take the fear away from anything. A monster under his bed or his favorite toy gone missing. How she showed up
to every school recital he had to be in because she make him. He remembers walking home from school every
day and coming home to see and smell the aromas of his mother making dinner. No matter what struggle his
little family had she always smiled through it all. When Christmas would come and she could only afford
something small, he never cared how big or small, or how much it cost whatever his mother got him it was
perfect to him. How she would take him on the back roads to teach him how to drive, and they almost went into
the ditch but just sat there and laughed for hours. Watching the smile on his mother's face when he graduated
high school. The way his mother stood by him through everything he went through good and bad. She was his
rock, and his rock was crumbling. Now he stands there at her bedside as she sleeps, now he stands there along
her side at her bad times, but now may be his last time at her side.
Sitting there for hours that felt like days, watching the clock and thinking to himself: Is the clock even
moving at all?But he really didn't seem to care if the clock moved or not. He wanted all the time he could have.
Jovian fell asleep at her bed side on a chair in the room.
A little bit later a faint voice whispered from his mother's lips, “Jovian?”
Jovian's eyes shop open and he got up as fast as he could and ran to his mother's bedside. “Yes mom.”
“Don't let this affect you, go on and do better for yourself.” She paused for a few breaths of air even
talking drained her so much. “I want you to go to college, do something for yourself that I can't give you.”
Pausing again for anther breath, with tears running down her face. “I need you to promise me that you will do
your best and try your hardest in life and never stop trying no matter what anyone tells you... understand?”
A single tear fell down Jovian's face. “Okay mom, I promise.”
His mother closed her eyes and began to lie there quietly. She took one last long breath and opened her
eyes once again and looked at her son. Her eyes shined like stars on a clear starry night; her voice was soft and
gentle like it came from heaven itself and was spoken with an angels voice.
“I love you Jovian,” whispered the mom.
Jovian whispered back, “I love you too, Mom.”
Monitors started beeping and going out of control. Jovian began to panic! Nurses and a doctor ran in the
room grabbing Jovian and asking him to leave the room. The nurse brought Jovian to the waiting room and told
him to wait here until things cleared.
Time kept passing by and Jovian couldn't help but think the worst. A doctor walked from down the hall
and to the waiting room and pulled Jovian aside.
“Jovian I'm sorry to inform you, but your mother's treatment didn't work. The cancer was just too
aggressive. She didn't make it. I can give you a few moments with her if you would like,” the doctor said.
Jovian mumbled a yes and then walked down the hall to his mother's hospital room. He sat there
knowing that all he's ever really had that made him happy in life is now gone. Everything he had is gone. That
same pain struck his throat; his eyes began to water but this time more than one tear fell. Jovian began to cry at
his mother's bedside. The pain was too surreal. He was hoping this was all a dream, but instead he got a
nightmare that he couldn't wake up from. He went numb, he couldn't think, barely move and barely speak. Life
hit him with one of the hardest obstacles he could ever face. He quietly got up, walked over to the doctor and
told them that he was done. The doctor had mentioned stuff about help if Jovian would like to talk about it, but
he just nodded and kept walking.
The funeral day came, dressed in a suit and tie of all black. There her casket sat with a pastor standing at
the front and a tomb stone that read: Only in your darkest moments will you find your innter shining light, Mary
Smith 1965-2014. Jovian looked around; he was the only one there. No family, no friends, nobody. He was the
only one. Standing there, he thought how life could be so cruel to him and his mother. Why did she have to be
taken? Why did she have to be ripped from this world? The pastor said a prayer, and Jovian bowed his head.
The casket was lowered down into the six foot hole, but his heart was buried into the abyss.
Every day after his mother's death he began to think more and more about doing better for himself. He
realized he wanted to be a doctor and help those in need like the ones that were there for his mother. He went to
college and graduated one of the hightest in his class. He applied at the same hospital that his mother was in
because he felt like that's where he wanted to work if he could. Not knowing that Cassidy still worked there and
was more than excited to be able to work with him. Cassidy and Jovian worked the longest shifts and talked to
each other every second they could. Jovian knew that is what his mother wanted that she would be so proud of
him if she stood here today. Every day he walked past the room him mother passed away in. Even though the
name c hanged on the room, he always saw: Room 1643 Mary Smith.
Cole Nyberg
Gr 12
Worthington ALC
REPURPOSED COFFEE TABLE
Shelena Aredondo
Redwood Area Schools
SKYRIM
Who is this strange man adorned in armor of bones,
Riding an undead steed?
He is manically sprinting towards yonder dragon,
Wielding the fabled staff of a mad god,
Stealing all of my precious crops, as he strides by.
He just consumed three bushels of apples
And my entire harvest
He rides straight on, staff drawn,
And shot a ball of red energy towards the creature.
The beast just turned into a sweet roll,
Now, a white mare.
This maniacal stranger persists to fire the staff.
Eventually it turned into a pile of gold coins.
He gathered all the coins,
Consumed its soul,
And carried on with his merry adventure-Quite a spectacle for a poor farmer.
Cameron Coile
Grade 12
White Bear Lake ALC
Rose
Jaydn Shumaker
Gr 10
Rochester ALC
SOCCER
Hustling to create a breeze in my hair.
Sweat drips from my forehead.
I hear nothing.
Running makes my cleats tickle my feet.
I glide down the field.
No one can catch me.
The sun shining on my face
The wind slowing me down.
It's making me tired.
When it rains the grass is damp,
Making it hard to run.
I feel ecstatic.
Dark colors make the team.
Black uniforms
Black shorts
Black socks
Red one
Yellow one
Whistle!
Whistle stops the game.
Ana Mirian Catillo
Gr 12
Worthington ALC
THAT'S LIFE
Life is full of challenges
Filled with changes
Each and everyday
Friends come and go
You lose the ones you love
Time flies by in a mere blink of an eye
Through every struggle
Even when you feel weak you are strong!
Keep your head held high
Dayna Thompson
Gr 10
Waubun ALC
TIME SQUARE
Giant trenches of light and steel
People scurrying along smog filled streets
Potholes filling walkways with a light mist
Billboards flashing images
“BUY! SPEND! WASTE YOUR WORTH ON FRIVILOUS THINGS!”
Cars zipping up and down black paths of cracked and broken tar
Trash obliviously blowing though the wind
The smell of fast food, gasoline choking the sweet air
A lavender colored sky as a constant reminder of what once was
A beautiful world
Overrun by “things”
Evan Johnson
Gr 12
Owatonna ALC
The Beast Within
Damon Bevins & Dominic Kroulik
Gr 9
Waubun ALC
TOGETHER
My heart aches for you
Please tell me we’re not through
You waited forever
And now we can be together
Time twinkles by
I sit, think and sigh
As the moon glows
My feeling shows
Just how we’ve grown
Now our love is known
With all my heart
Nothing will tear us apart
We watched the stars
As some flew by mars
With the night so cold
Will you be so bold
To come closer to huddle
You hold me as we cuddle
Finally tired and more to acquire
Our love will continue and never devour
Chelsea Jewell
12th Grade
White Bear Lake ALC
Tara Flannigan
Gr 9
Jennings CLC
UNNOTICABLE
I’ve been in so many homes.
I’ve been with so many families.
But they always return me.
Am I not good enough?
I’m sorry I’m not the perfect daughter.
I don’t trust easily.
I’ve been told nobody loves me.
I’m nothing but another girl in the system.
Home after home,
Family after family.
I’m a 13 year old girl.
With no parents,
No brothers or sisters.
No one to love me.
All I have is a social worker,
Who keeps telling me, “I guess that wasn’t the right fit.”
What does that even mean, “the right fit?”
Some days I feel like nobody notices me.
Like I’m just another girl in the system
hilarious, and memorable moments.
Sara BetharteNiven
GR 10
White Bear Lake ALC
Surreal
Katie Currier
Gr 12
River Bend ALC
WHERE I AM FROM
I am from pristine plastic Barbie dolls.
From blue, sweet smelling Windex and almost Christmas smelling Pine-sol
I am from the small average house in a cute little neighborhood;
(Quiet and relaxed)
I am from the giant oak tree.
The colorful, flower gardens; with the most beautiful floral smells.
I am from cheerful family reunions.
from Andrea and Jason
I am from pick up your toys and make your bed.
From …(religion or there lack of)
I’m from the busy, bustling city of St. Paul on a hot day in July.
From creamy Kraft mac and cheese and sticky peanut butter and fluff sandwich.
From Maddy if I can do so can you
The if he made it through so can you, I promise...
Family pictures all over the house like family all over the country
I am from two parents who love and care for me unconditionally and will always be by my side and a brother
who I will always fight with but deep down love.
Madeline Lodden
Grade 12
White Bear Lake ALC
Shayne Kathman
Gr 11
Paladin Career & Technical HS
WHERE I'M FROM
I am from thin walls, waking up at 3:00 AM to neighbors shouting,
From musky, manly Old Spice and soft and sweet Blue Bunny Ice Cream.
I am from a home with an angry, disappointed mother .
It feels like I’m lost.
I’m from smoking in 8th grade and my mom blowing it off.
I’m from homemade spaghetti and big noses,
From Amy and Rocky.
I’m from the family of drug addicted failures who are unmotivated, unemployed, welfare-using losers.
I am from “some day you’ll be great” to “but now its too late… too many mistakes.”
From Lutheran faith until I saw the gates of hell in front of my closed eyes and the fear of not waking up the
next morning
I am from the tall buildings and busy streets of downtown St. Paul and the frozen tundras of Norway.
From greasy pepperoni with melted mozzarella and homemade spaghetti and sauce made from scratch with
basil and italian sausage.
I am from my mom kicking my uncle out on Christmas Eve and my uncle screaming back at her until I woke
up,
I’m from empty picture frames mocking our so-called “family.”
I’m from a loser now to someday arising to the greatness that boils down deep inside my heart and soul...
Christopher Stamnes
Gr 11
White Bear Lake Area Learning Center
Shayne Kathman
Gr 11
Paladin Career & Technical HS
WORK HARD FOR YOURSELF
Whoa! In the 17 hears of my life, there has been sadness, happiness, madness and overall loveliness.
One thing I can say I am amazingly proud of is having the opportunity to show all of my family and friends that
I can walk across the stage and receive my diploma. I will smile proudly because I have completed a chapter in
my life. My family doubted me, and I also doubted myself. I was in situations that caused me not to care and to
lose myself, but I overcame them. Although graduation is a little late, I came to have pride in myself higher than
I can imagine.
When you are standing in failure, you think of the worst. You have the feeling of failing without trying.
That feeling you get when you actually have something to be proud of is the best feeling anyone can feel. The
day I received a letter notifying me that I got accepted at MN West, my expression was
“WHOA!! WHAT?” Me? Linda Rueda? I was so confused and excited, proud and emotional. Seeing my mother
cry because she was excited and proud to know that her daughter switched her life around and actually put her
effort into schoolwork made my acceptance sink in. I talked to Valeria, my cousin, that night telling her about
how excited I was receiving my letter. I could imagine the big smile on her face about the fact that her cousin,
someone she saw as not reaching per potential, finally achieve success. I learned that I need to put my effort
into my work because nobody will do it for me. Hard work pays off and at the end I got what I dreamed of.
Linda Rueda
Gr 12
Worthington ALC
YOUR LOVE?
Football is my love
I will succeed in this fall
don't doubt me at all
Mauricio Rivera
Gr 11
Worthington ALC
SUBMISSION GUIDELINES
All entries are due by date posted on the MAAP website.
To facilitate the anonymous scoring of entries, students' work should be accompanied by a cover sheet of note
card with the following information:
Title of the work (or first line of untitled works)
Student First and Last Name
Grade Level
School
Teacher
Authenticity Form
Please do not include this information on the same page as the entry. Thank you.
Prose and Poetry: Students may submit up to 5 entries with any combination of poetry and prose. Please submit
only finished, edited, quality original work. All entries must be TYPEWRITTEN, one entry per page.
Artwork: Students may submit up to 5 works of visual are. Plesae submit photographs and drawings. Please
submit only finished, well made, quality original work. Artwork that does not scan well will not be used.
Cover Design: Cover art will be selected from all artwork submitters, but artwork that meet the following
criterion will be given preference:
The Title, The Alchemist
Subtitle, Art of Transformation
An image that reflects the idea of transformation of the metaphor of alchemy
Note: Because of the volume of entries received, entries that do not follow submission guielines may not be
considered for publication. Entries will not be returned. Cover page and authenticity form available through
MAAPs website: http://www.maapmn.org/alchemist.html
Submit entriess to:
Molly Springs ALC – Alchemist
PO Box 98 Swanville MN 56382
mollyalc@swanville.k12.mn.us
Phone 320-547-5134 Fax 320-547-2576
SUBMITTING SCHOOLS VOLUME 14
IVAN SAND COMMUNITY SCHOOLS
WORTHINGTON ALC
NORTHLAND LEARNING CENTER
BOLD ALC
PALADIN CAREER AND TECHNICAL HS
RIVER BEND ALC
GRAND RAPIDS ALC
REDWOOD AREA SCHOOLS
OSSEO ALC
WADENA ALC
FERGUS FALLS ALC
OWATONNA ALC
ROCHESTER ALC
WHITE BEAR LAKE ALC
JENNINGS CLC
BROOKLYN CENTER ACADEMY
PILLAGER AREA CHARTER SCHOOL
STEPS – SAUK RAPIDS / RICE
WAUBUN ALC