Dyer Statements - · I hope that you enjoy this third issue of Dyer Statements! ... diamonds. I am hypnotized for ... in his backyard. I have never seen him in the

Dyer Statements A Dyersburg State Community College

E-Journal of The Creative and Literary Arts

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President’s Message

Dr. Karen Bowyer

I hope that you enjoy this third issue of Dyer Statements! Students, faculty, staff and children of staff have demonstrated their creativity through photography, the written word and drawings. We are grateful to Dr. William Northcutt, Professor of English, for his deft work as editor. The contributors join me in wishing you a very pleasant experience as you read and view the poems, short stories, photographs and sketches showcased in the following pages.

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Editor’s Introduction

Dr. William Northcutt, DSCC Associate Professor of English

I am proud to present to you, Dyersburg State Community College’s (DSCC) third issue of an extraordinary journal of creative and literary arts. We have an amazing amount of talent in the DSCC community of current students, alumni, staff, administrators, and faculty. Their essays, poems, drawings, stories, and photos here attest to the diversity of the DSCC community. The works show great ability. They also demonstrate a desire to communicate with the world through the creative arts. Sometimes, art can express what other forms of communication cannot. I hope our readers and viewers will enjoy this special publication and consider what is being “said” in these pages.

I would like to thank my helpers—DSCC students Ashley Sandlin and Brittany Clair Smith, who assisted me in editing the works included here. I would also like to thank the English Department faculty and our support staff for facilitating the journal and organizing the Creative Arts Celebration of Dyer Statements. Thanks to our Public Information Department, Amy Finch and Constance Clay. Many thanks go to our President, Dr. Karen Bowyer, our interim Vice-President of Academic Affairs, Dr. Kay Patterson, and the Interim Dean of Arts and Sciences, Dr. Brian Wells. Thanks go out to all our faculty and staff who spread the word and helped us to find contributors.

And finally, I’d like to thank all the contributors to this journal. Your work helps to demonstrate what a special place we have at DSCC.

Art by Ashley Sandlin

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Table of Contents

Cover Art by Christina Pease ............................................................................. Front Cover

President’s Forward by Dr. Karen Bowyer ..........................................................................1

Editor’s Forward by Dr. William Northcutt ........................................................................2

Drawing by Ashley Sandlin .................................................................................................4

Poems by Belinda Barker.....................................................................................................5

Drawing by Ashley Sandlin .................................................................................................7

Short Story by Betty Hallmark ............................................................................................8

Photos by Dr. Carol Feather...............................................................................................10

Essay by Ken Jones ............................................................................................................12

Essay by DeAndré Scott ....................................................................................................17

Photo by Dr. William Northcutt.........................................................................................18

Photo by Dr. Karen Bowyer...............................................................................................19

Poems by Julie Holeman Hasuly .......................................................................................20

Photos by Therese Warmath ..............................................................................................24

Poems by Mary F. Smith ...................................................................................................26

Photo by Therese Warmath ................................................................................................29

Poem by Ellyn Smith .........................................................................................................30


Poems by Sam Doaks.........................................................................................................34


Essay by Brandi Lowery ....................................................................................................37

Essay by Trisha Scrivner ...................................................................................................38

Essay and Poem by Jodie Simmons ...................................................................................41

Photo by Trisha Scrivner ...................................................................................................46

Poem by Shelly Lemons ....................................................................................................47

Poems by Joshua Routon ...................................................................................................48

Photos by Dr. Carol Feather...............................................................................................52

Contributors .......................................................................................................................54

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by Ashley Sandlin

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Ode to the Visitor by Belinda Barker She arrived one day to visit— dressed in her Sunday Best. I can only stay awhile, she said. With that, I might have guessed. my dishes dirty— my beds left unmade— I didn’t want Her here! and so I asked if— maybe— She could come again next year? She never looked my way— or offered me a Word. She went about her Business— as if She hadn’t heard! I hardly even knew Her! Why would She visit me? She read my mind and answered: I Knew you would be Free.

my work waiting— my words left unsaid— I needed time to tell them! and so I begged another day— if only She could spare one? She listened to me plead— and took my hand in hers. She led me to the Garden: Shhh…Listen to the Birds. I didn’t want to hear them! What good would that do me? She heard my thoughts and answered: You must Hear before you See. She wrapped her shawl around me— and held me to her breast. She sang a tender Lovesong: You are One with all the Rest. She opened all the Windows— and then she locked the Doors. I can only stay awhile, she said. I could not ask for more.

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we buried a boy today by Belinda Barker we buried a boy today a beautiful boy the sound— of a mother's silent mourning the sound— of your own child's grief unimaginable sounds unanswerable questions unthinkable answers the sound— of each heart rending, joining all the others, desperate to make sense of the beautiful boy's death the sound— of young men in unison, their cadence crushed and strong— singing the swan song of the boy the sound— of love

we buried a boy today a beautiful boy In loving memory of Jacob Cole Nunley (September 22, 1993--September 10, 2012) hunger kills by Belinda Barker the real truth: no manna will rain. hunger kills, while we watch on tv eight million not yet five: every year will die. hunger kills, on our watch we turn away refuse to see few worries with our bounty tick-tock: another one gone hunger kills, while we wait in line at the drive-through

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by Ashley Sandlin

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Encounter with Evil

By Betty Hallmark

“Oooh Noooo! Not Again! I am seriously going to be in trouble this time!” This is my first thought when I wake up and look at the clock. I am going to be late for school for the third time in less than a month. When the school informs my father this time, I will be punished for sure. At least I will not get into trouble by myself, Joseph and Timothy, my brothers, will be late again too. Our father uses a belt on us when we are really bad and I believe this will definitely be considered really bad. Most of the time he sets us on the couch and will talk to us for hours (seems like hours anyway) about what we did, why we did it, why we should never do it again. The boys said they would rather have the belt and it be over with, not me! I jump out of bed and run into the boy’s room and scream, “Get Up! Get Up! Get Up!” The boys jump up and get ready in less than five minutes. Why couldn't I have been born a boy? Then I would have no hair and make-up to do. I could just shave my head; throw on some clothes, and go. If my brothers and I still rode the bus to school, this never would have happened. We had to stand and wait outside for up to thirty minutes before we were even picked up. Then it took an hour or more from the time the bus picked us up till we arrived at the school. My brothers and I got sick of it and decided to figure out another way to get to school. The bus is horrifyingly hot in the winter and summer. In the winter someone is always sick, sneezing and coughing on everyone else. It is so gross. Not to mention the bullies that start fights with the smaller children (which we are). Two huge high school boys sit in the front just so they can trip kids as they are getting off the bus. These boys think this is hilarious and will laugh and laugh. As young as I am I know these boys have a very sick sense of humor. The old saying, “born bad” comes to my mind when I see them. Henry and James Henning torture every kid on our bus. They are going to graduate in another year and as long as a child does not require medical attention there is really nothing they can do about the bullying. I believe the bus driver is scared of them too. Mr. Barnell has caught them slapping kids on the back of the head and he looks the other way. Henry and James, of course, deny everything. At first we decided to walk on the road to school, but it took twenty to twenty-five minutes. We tried that for about two weeks. Then, Joseph suggests we try going thru the woods. We cut our time almost in half. There are smiles on all of our faces. That would mean over an hour of extra sleep for us. What would it hurt to try going thru the woods? We would be at school in fifteen minutes. My brothers and I do this for about a week and wonder why we never thought of it before. I jump up and throw on some clothes. Grab my backpack and rush out the door. The cold slams me in the face. It snowed overnight, just enough to cover the ground. The first snow of the year. It is so breathtakingly beautiful. The sun is shining on the snow and it sparkles like tiny diamonds. I am hypnotized for a moment at the breathtaking scene in front of me. Joseph and Timothy never leave me behind, but they know our father will punish us this time. Our father does not know about the other two times that we slept late, but one of our teachers will say something to him this time for sure. With that knowledge, they take off without me. I know they will make it on time because they are such fast runners. I have no other option but go thru the woods too because there is not enough time to do anything else.

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I am already late so I take my time. I enjoy walking thru the woods. The scenery is lovely at any time of the year, but with the snow it is spellbinding. My tennis shoes are wet and my toes are almost frozen, but I do not care. I see Donald up ahead. His parents moved in the house in front of the school. They just moved in a couple of months ago. I am, kind of, in his backyard. I have never seen him in the woods before. He must have seen my brothers go by his house, without me. I just keep walking straight ahead and watch him from my lowered eyelids, pretending I have not noticed him. I really wish he was not invading my solitude on this glorious morning. I wonder why he is not at school. Then, as I get closer, I move a couple of steps to the left to go around him, he moves to the left, into my path. I slow down, feeling the need to be cautious. I notice he has something in his hand. I am still a few yards from him so I step to the right side of him to pass. My intention again is to go around him. He steps over to the right, into my path again. He has a blank expression on his face. He just keeps staring at me, almost like he is looking through me. He almost seems like he is in a trance, then all of a sudden he makes a move to be sure my attention is fully on him and he slowly moves his hand from behind his back to the front of his body. In his hand is a big ax. The ax is old, about 3 feet long, with a faded red handle. It has been used to chop wood for a very long time. I look down, slowly, like seeing the ax does not bother me. A shiver goes all thru my body and it is not from the cold morning air. I look up into his eyes and see pure evil intentions. I know then that he is not going to let me pass. I take a few steps and sit down on a log. Waiting. I know and he knows we have all day before anyone will come looking for him, or me. My adrenaline is pumping thru my veins at an accelerated pace. I feel the need to stay calm and hope I can, because maybe then I can keep him calm. I feel fear for the first time in my life and look down so he will not see it in my eyes. No one can help me. We are all alone out here. No one can hear me if I scream. He walked the few steps to where I am sitting. Even though there is pure terror in my soul, I look up, smile, and plaster a look of indifference on my face. “You are trespassing on my property.” he said. “This is not your land. It's your parents property and the landlords, so I am not trespassing unless they tell me I am.”, I said. “It is my property too!” he said. “I have the RIGHT to tell someone if they can or cannot come on this land!” His face turns blood red and his veins in his neck pop out. His voice gets louder and louder as he speaks. It sounds so ominous out here in the woods. He is so mad. I realize that he is not just angry, he is infuriated. I have never done anything to him. I have never even spoken to him until today. I only know his name because Timothy told me. I look into his eyes and see that this boy wants to hurt someone; hurt someone real bad, maybe even kill someone. I do not want that someone to be me, but what do I do? I do not need for him to be mad, angry, and definitely not infuriated. I know I need to keep him calm. I look down at the ground. “My father is going to give me a beating if I am late for school,” I said. He looks at me and just like that he is calm again. Maybe he will receive a beating from his father too. Hopefully I will get some sympathy from him. Hopefully. “That is not my problem,” he said.

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I look up into his eyes. I know I have a look of defeat on my face, but I can do nothing about it. I am his toy, to treat however he wants. We both know that I can scream all I want and no one will hear me. I feel like I need to keep him talking. If only for a diversion. Maybe I can think of a way to get away from him. He is bigger, stronger, and I know he can out run me. I think my only option is going to be to try to run for it. Donald is smiling now. He has both hands on the top of the ax handle, completely relaxed. I look up at the snow on the tree limbs and all over the ground. It is so still, not a puff of a breeze in the air. The woods are so peaceful. The sun has promised a bright day. It is touching my skin. Warming me. Such a wonderful morning. All the beautiful snow will be melted by lunch time. I hope I will see another day. I play chess with anyone who will play. I never knew life could be compared to it. He is waiting on my move. _____________________________________________________________

by Dr. Carol Feather

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New Species Invades the South by Ken Jones

Mounting evidence has some local herpetologists concerned that the southern states of North America are being invaded by a new species of giant snake. Recently given the name Eunectes firestoneia by Dr. Uno Abril of the University of Tennessee, this newly described member of the Boa family appears to be a close relative of the Amazon Anaconda. The genus name, Eunectes, translated from the Greek means “good swimmer,” and indeed the Anaconda is the most aquatic of all the Boas.

A recent rash of sightings all over the south have involved the sudden appearance of shed skins, especially along roadways close to bridges spanning rivers and streams. Dr. Abril surmises that the huge serpents, upon feeling the urge to molt, go looking for hard boulders or rocks upon which to rub and scrape their shedding skin. There not being much of that type of natural geology here in the Mississippi flood plain, the desperate snakes wind up climbing up concrete bridge buttresses and using the rough concrete and asphalt surfaces of the roadway to peel-off their old skin.

Though as yet no complete specimens, living or dead have been verified, Dr. Abril feels that he has extracted enough DNA from the shed skins to begin a workable assay. “This would be proof positive,” he says, “that we have a real problem on our hands.” Though their predominate color is black, their shed skins (see photo) often show variable patterns of zig-zag lines running parallel to the longitudinal plane of their bodies.

The skin of this medium-sized specimen is typical (about 8 feet), but because it is only a partial molt (missing the tail below the anal plate and entire head section), the overall length of this snake was probably close to 12 feet! Still not worried? Then what about this? Some skins have been found near old construction sites and gravel pits that suggest some of these monsters are reaching lengths of 20 feet or more!

When asked what such large snakes might be feeding on, Dr. Abril suggested that because of their aquatic and nocturnal nature, muskrats and beavers would certainly be prime prey items, especially since in the jungles of the Amazon Anacondas pursue the largest rodent of them all, the capybara.

When asked where did it come from, Dr. Abril could only shrug and say, “Who knows? It is definitely a tropical, sub-tropical species. Perhaps with recent climatic trends involving global warming, this species has migrated northward, crossed the Panamanian Isthmus, the Caribbean and followed the Mississippi Valley to here.” He goes on to say, “and I’m afraid, if that’s the case, then it’s here to stay. You know, not too long ago we extirpated all the natural large predators that used to roam this area, and since Nature abhors a vacuum, maybe Eunectes firestoneia is their replacement?”

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Dr. Abril with specimen in his laboratory prior to running a DNA electrophoresis profile

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Dr. Abril attempts to extract DNA from a single scale taken from the ventral scutes. Notice the intricate reticulations running the length of the dorsal surface. In the jar to right of the microscope is a 4 foot Diamondback Rattlesnake (Crotalus atrox) dwarfed by the Anaconda skin.

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Dr. Abril with an 8 foot section of snake skin collected from the shoulder of highway 51 near the Forked Deer River

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Dr. Abril and assistant measure the length of the shed skin

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No Risk, No Reward

by DeAndré Scott

I am a strong believer that risk taking is beneficial to the success and growth of anyone looking to accomplish anything in life. Staying inside your comfort zone is something that handicaps you from fully trying new things and learning from successes and mistakes in life. I like to think of myself as a risk taker, as I have challenged myself to try things that are outside of what I am used to and willing to try, and I can honestly say that the reward was very much so worth the risks taken to achieve it.

During the fall of 2011, I applied to study abroad for three weeks over the summer of 2012 in three of Europe’s capital cities- Paris, France; Brussels, Belgium; and Holland, Amsterdam. It has always been one of my dreams since I was a child to travel the world and experience new cultures so I found this to be the opportunity of a lifetime. After writing the essay and filling out the application, I anticipated the announcement on whether I would be accepted or not. After a few weeks, I received an email saying that I would be receiving the scholarship to study in Europe! I was ecstatic to tell my family and friends about the news. The countdown to June 2012 had begun!

After months of emails, orientations and planning, the day had arrived. It was the morning of June 2nd 2012 and I was up at ungodly hours of the morning getting ready to travel to Nashville to catch my flight. It finally hit me- I was about to board a plane with over 40 strangers to travel to Europe. Since I only knew the two other people from my institution who were accompanying me on the trip, it was a little unnerving. After saying a teary goodbye to my family (I only cried a little!), I was on my way to Nashville. During the drive there, I kept repeating to myself one of my favorite quotes: “No risk, No reward”. This was also the first thing I thought of when writing my essay for entry to the program. It is a great motto to live by.

My study abroad experience was one of the greatest experiences of my life. I met people from across the universe, tried numerous things that I would have never thought of doing (Escargot, walking to the top to the Eiffel tower, traveling halfway across the city for a haircut), made lasting friendships, and, if you can believe it, actually learned a thing or two from the class we were studying! None of this would have been possible though had I not taken the opportunity to apply and step away from what I was used to for three weeks. Instead of backing out like other people who signed up for the program but let fear overrule them, I packed my bags and took a risk that I will forever thank myself for taking. Since I have returned and told practically everyone I know about my experience abroad, it has helped other find the courage in them to do something beyond their comfort zone, be it study abroad over summer 2013 or try a new activity they have always wanted to do but never went through with. It is amazing to know that a risk that I have taken for myself has motivated and inspired others to do the same.

I strongly believe that life is what you make it. The experiences and risks involved make up to a story that only you can tell. I you want to make great things happen, you have to look outside the barriers in your mind and take a chance for something great to happen for you.

"Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far it is possible to go."

T.S. Eliot

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Paris and I.M. Pei’s Pyramid at the Louvre Museum (2012) by Dr. William Northcutt

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Shanghai, China by Dr. Karen Bowyer

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f

A Big Pot of Gold

by Julie Holeman (Hasuly) / Dedicated to John Hasuly

At the end of a rainbow, or so I've been told,

At the end of a rainbow, there's a big pot of gold.

I don't mean to sound greedy, but I long to find

A big pot of gold that I can call mine.

So whenever I see colors streak through the sky,

I head on my way from morning to night.

But before I can reach them, the colors are gone.

I've tried ten thousand times. What am I doing wrong?



I don't mean to sound depressed, but I long to find


By now I am tired and I need to rest.

What else can I do? I'm doing my best.

I’ll lie down to sleep for just a short time,

And then I'll be ready to begin again.


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I don't mean to sound lazy, but I long to find


When I opened my eyes there were no colors in the sky.

So I decided to quit, no longer wanted to try.

Then I turned to go home, and to my surprise,

A big pot of gold stood before my eyes.



I don't mean to sound crazy, but I long to find


It was a sight, I couldn't believe.

All that time I was searching, and it had found me.

I guess this goes to show not all myths are true.

It was when I stopped looking that I found you.



I don't mean to sound foolish, but I longed to find

A big pot of gold that I could call mine.

There was no need to search endlessly.

It was when I gave up, that you found me!

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Love Is a Rose

by Julie Holeman (Hasuly)

Dedicated to John Rose, Keriann, Jennifer, and Mr. Hellyer’s mother,

Friends that lost their battle with cancer

Love is a rose

Single on a stem.

Its short life

Came to an end.

One by one

The petals fell to the ground,

Swept away by the wind,

Quiet, without a sound.

Like that rose,

Our hearts feel alone.

Broken hearts

That need to mourn.

Say good-bye,

Go in our separate ways.

We must remember,

We will meet again someday.

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Mountain of Living

by Julie Holeman (Hasuly)

8th grade (‘89-’90)

I’m going to climb this mountain,

Although I cannot see the top.

Setting my goals high,

I will never stop.

Setting these goals

Will help me to succeed;

Help me to fulfill

My hopes and dreams.

Teach me that if I

Have not yet received,

To be giving.

I invite you to climb with me

The mountain of living.

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by Therese Warmath

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by Therese Warmath

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A Room with Bars on the Door by Mary F Smith

A Room with Bars on the Door

For twenty plus years

I’ve lived with bars on my door

A cold prison cell

Concrete walls, concrete floor

Everywhere I look

Gray and blue surrounds me

These colors are constant reminders

That I am not free

I don’t have a name

Only a number and a face

And that’s all that I’ll have

Until I leave this place

Guards in gray tell me

Every move to make

When to eat, where to be

Or when a shower to take

But my thoughts are mine

They belong to me

I keep them to myself

Even though I’m not free

Gangs, drugs and fights

I’ve seen it all through the years

Young boys acting tough

And hiding their fears

When I was still a child

Breaking rules, running wild

I took things that I wanted

With no guilt was I haunted

Filled with happiness and joy

Now I am paying

For the mistakes of a boy

For twenty plus years, I’ve lived

In a room with bars on the door

But soon I’ll walk free

A prisoner no more

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Brooklyn and Chance by Mary F Smith Two darling babies

Both with an angel’s face

Ours to hold for a moment

No time to waste

Arriving too soon

And leaving too fast

Why them, God

We painfully ask

Brooklyn and Chance

Our daughter, our son

Coming to us separately

But leaving as one

Our hearts are breaking

Overflowing with love

As God takes you to heaven

To be with Him up above

Safely He will keep you

And with Him

You will stay

Until we join you

In heaven someday

Brooklyn and Chance

Our daughter, our son

Go now in peace

Together as one

Two darling babies

Both with an angel’s face

Ours to hold for a moment

No time to waste

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Soldier Boy

by Mary F. Smith

Standing before me

I see a soldier boy

Standing tall and proud

Like a G.I. Joe toy

He is polished and shined

His uniform is pressed

Never have I seen him

So neatly dressed

A grown man before me

And a grown man you see

But in my mind

A little boy

running and playing

He will always be

He has traded

His ball and glove

For a gun and a tank

His playground

Is now a foxhole

Or a muddy river bank

To serve his country

And his duty, he will do

Freedom, he protects

For me and for you

To faraway lands

He will go if he must

Sleeping in tents

On the ground, in the dust

He salutes when he passes

As he marches away

God keep him safe

Is the prayer I pray

I’m a soldier boy

He yells to the crowd

And I’m his mother

So sad but so proud!

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by Therese Warmath

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Excess

by Ellyn Smith

All that I am,

Wandering faith in existence,

Bound in frantic activity.

Waves that pull,

Push past visibility,

Drag retching my soul upon the banks of honesty.

Molded clay,

Breaking free from form,

Gelatinous and roiling mounds cry tears from my being.

More than want,

More than me,

Dismissing gestures to the culture of excess.

Repellant nature,

Fruitless longing,

Give in to waste no longer belonging.

Sorrow, she weeps upon the precipice of change,

Bound nowhere with flightless wings,

Laboring to no longer be.

She waits upon the distant shore,

Sightless gaze upon a doomed land,

She has no hope to change what is.

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Questions echo in lack of light,

Given and given,

No end in sight.

No need,

Fulfilled,

And pressed more upon by fortune.

Burden of capitol,

Has none for the need,

Empty hands extended in confusion.

Be him my brother,

Enemy in birth,

Land and land between and without.

Silent river flows,

She weeps for you,

She fills the world with piety.

Eternal flame,

Shine upon the tar of night,

Be free to rid the world of vanity with diligence.

Tempest, sweep away with might,

That which we beheld in endless night.

On and on,

The mountain cries,

Down and down she crumbles,

Pool which fills,

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Be spilt upon the stone and sand,

New life be given,

End the wandering circles of regret,

Share with those blind, needy and silent in transgression.

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by Therese Warmath

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Speak Black Birds by Sam Doaks Sun peeks round the horizon awakening the sky from low to high eternally provides birds far as the eye can see every branch of every tree speak simultaneously awaken The Day As chatter dies down few more fly around escalate once again to hear near peace drown the next louder than the other wonder what it is they mutter must have the same mother cause all look like brothers know the Father is the reason allowed to grow another season soon believing viewed as treason enjoy this morning noise we breathing Oh, what one gets used to bear turn your back there’s no more there guess they vanished in this err round the horizon awaken with care

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Grease Jar by Sam Doaks Overwhelmed, abused, misguided, misused. Over and over again, hand me down only to descend. Bottled up, trapped in a grease jar awaiting The End. Will I go out on the curb, or down the can again?

no title by Sam Doaks WhiteMan think I’m African BlackMan think I’m from Iran ArabMan think I’m Pakistan ChinaMan think “Who gives a damn!”

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by Therese Warmath

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I Overcome

by Brandi Lowery

Being bullied isn’t fun it will make you depress and want to run when you are getting picked on its

hurts and not having anybody to talk to makes it worse!! Growing up I never belonged but as I got

older I realized sometimes it’s better to be alone I had bad teeth and nappy hair and I never would

worry about the clothes I wear It always suck being alone but sometimes that what makes you

strong To everybody who ever picked on me I would like to say thank you Y’all were my

motivators to make my dreams come true Yeah I had thoughts of suicide and killing myself which

was very dumb but by me getting help and praying and having my family on my side showed me I

can overcome.

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My Inspiration, My Momma

by Trisha Scrivner

Long, silky, straight hair the color of fire and ice sits wrapped neatly in a bun upon her head. Small, yet substantial, red, white, and blue square-framed spectacles teeter on the bridge of her perfectly proportioned nose. Slowly and surely, like rain showers of spring, the corners of her mouth crinkle and rise in the ever familiar and friendly smile that I so adore. Her cheeks are slightly creased. Upon her left cheek prominently sits a mole. It is the same mole that for so many years on Halloween would be painted black to match the face that was adorned with green so that she was transformed into a witch year after year. Her eyes I see each time I glance into a mirror. They are of a beautiful hazel hue with shades of greens, golds, and browns. Her face is gracefully creased in the most delightful way. This enchanting person is the vessel from which I was born. She is my moon, my stars, and is also known as Momma. My Momma is a strong, caring, and creative woman whom I adore. She is my inspiration, my strength, and my hero.

Before the age of thirty my Momma had lost her mother in a long excruciating battle with cervical cancer, had given birth to a still born daughter, and had also gone through a painful divorce. Before her fortieth birthday she had also lost her father in a fatal car accident. On the third day of February, two-thousand and ten, three months before her sixty-first birthday, her twenty- eight- year-old son, her baby, also died tragically in a car accident. That was my little brother, Michael; he was only two years younger than I am. With both accidents, those of her father and son, they had rear ended a semi-truck causing both of their untimely deaths. As if their deaths weren’t hard enough, she had to painfully drive past the wreckage of both accidents, which were still surrounded by police and rescue workers, on the way to the hospital. When arriving at the hospital, after being informed of her father’s accident, she was immediately notified, by other family members that her father hadn’t survived. Yet, with her son it was a different story. She had to wait three torturous hours before she was told by the doctor, wearing a white, blood spattered coat, of the death of her blonde-haired, blue-eyed baby boy. The death of my little brother, Michael, and my grandfather, Paw Paw, was hard for me; I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for my Momma. Momma and Pops, my father, are alive and well and I can’t begin to fathom losing either, or both, of them on top of the death of two my own children. To think of losing any of them is just too heartbreaking to imagine. How could one woman endure the loss of so many loved ones and carry on? She’s not only overcome all of these tragedies but has resurfaced with courage and strength. She ascended from her grief like a rose from the frost, only to bloom into the beautiful, strong woman that she is today.

With the chill of the winter breeze at our backs my little brother, Momma, and I would stand on the corner in anticipation of the school bus. This picture is etched in my mind and I can see it all too clearly. All three of us are standing on the corner waiting for the bus my brother and I with our blonde-white hair and Momma with her long flowing red hair, all with smiles upon our faces. Our mother would stand beside us with a cup of coffee in each hand, one for her and one for our bus driver Ms. Cole. My brother and I were five and seven years old, with me being the oldest. I remember around this age the two of us also going to church. The church was nothing fancy; it was just a comfortable little white, country, church. Atop of the cozy little church there was a steeple hovering protectively over it. Each Sunday the congregation would give us, the children, pocket change for singing hymns. When my little brother and I got home from church, with our

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money burning holes in our pockets, Momma would walk the two of us to the store. Momma, Michael, and I would begin our journey to a small gas station on the other side of town. Here the money we earned was spent however on whatever we liked and we bought candy. On the seemingly endless journey home the candy would be devoured before our destination was reached.

I love how creative my Momma is, and I wish I was as well. Momma was a single mother of two small children. We didn’t have a lot of money; Momma didn’t allow this to hold us back from anything. Each Halloween she would create us costumes from items she bought at a second hand store. One year Momma bought a white robe at one of these used clothes stores. We carried the robe home and died it black; I was instantly transformed into a witch. Momma would attempt to sew; sometimes we would end up with a cute pillow and sometimes it would be an extremely long limbed cat. The cat is the funniest looking thing ever; it has arms that are nearly as long as its legs. Over twenty something years later I still have that funny looking cat and I absolutely love it because it came from the heart. During the warm months of summer Michael and I would bring in to Momma honeysuckle and grape vines; we would gather these ingredients from the woods behind our house. These natural ingredients would be transformed into beautifully adorned, sweet smelling, grapevines wreaths. Anything that any of us found she could find a creative use for it.

People have the tendency to come and go; but for me there is one person that has always been there: my Momma. With her as my inspiration I can conquer the world. As I have grown up watching her, I have been instilled with massive amounts of strength and courage. As long as I have her I have the motivation and will to do anything. I will succeed because she says I will. With her as my inspiration I can conquer the world.

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by Trisha Scrivner

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The Creek

by Jodie Simmons

A wasted day to one person may be a complete vacation to another. I suppose it all depends on how a person may choose to look at it. Some may consider a trip to Disneyland a vacation, while my family and I are just as satisfied with a trip to Knob Creek. That is how my two daughters and I like to think of it anyway. It has always been the best, and the only vacation we have ever taken.

I not only thought I was lost during those days, but I was lost. I was lost in a sense that even direction could not bring me back. However, I still knew exactly where we were headed. Even though the kids thought we were just headed to the creek to have some “good ole fun”, I had bigger plans in mind. These were plans that included some “meetin’ with Jesus” time. I knew that we were headed straight towards a better future, and even though I did not have a map to get us there or even the plan yet, I did hold the desire for better within my very soul. Somewhere deep inside myself was the key, and for some strange reason I had a feeling I would find it there at the creek. So that is where our journey would begin.

I had no money, only enough gas to get us there and back with maybe a drink for each of us for the entire day. We had on our bathing suits and shorts, our messy pony tails and flip-flops. We had each other. We could never forget that we had each other because that is about all we had since their father died. Three long years, and I could only just now try to envision a future for us. I just had to go hunting for it. All I did know was that it wasn’t in the house I held us captive in for all that time , and it surely wasn’t in the drugs that the doctors had been feeding me or the drugs I had been feeding myself for that matter.

We always loved arriving at the creek. Parked on the side of a country back road in the middle of nowhere, we would throw off our shoes and head down the white rocks to the water. We considered that water hole to be our own private Heaven. We always regretted not having taken our shoes with us when we made our trip back to the car. The rocks always were sharper on our tender feet at the end of the day.

I know God was waiting on us every time we went. It was almost as if He were waiting there to welcome us with fresh mud and the coldest water to wade in. I sometimes thought He put ice cubes in it just for us before we would arrive. I would play with the girls as long as I could before time for my meeting; then I would send them up the creek a ways so I could spend my time alone with God making our plans.

Even though I was alone, I always enjoyed listening to the girls playing ahead of me in the creek. Their laughs and shrieks always seemed to make me smile through the tears of not having any answers to our future yet. They thought I couldn’t see them, but I was always just around the corner so I could hear them and go running if a fight broke out or the little one fell in the sand. I still love to hear them laugh.

I would sit on a fallen tree or sometimes just smack dab in the middle of the cool, clear stream and that is where God would talk to me. The water rushing over my toes along with the fresh air brushing my face, and even the occasional mosquito buzzing in my ear seemed to be God himself whispering my future to me in ways I had never heard before. When the sun would break

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through the trees and shine on my face, it was as if I knew that we were exactly where we were supposed to be at the time. Tears that were so healing would rush over me like a tidal wave. I would welcome the tears instead of trying to hide them for a change.

The grass and the trees had never seemed greener. The sun had never appeared brighter, and every little flower or rock or stick even seemed to take on special features and colors I had never seemed to appreciate before. I felt like a child again as I would run my fingers through the sand and mud, as chill bumps would cover my body from head to toe when I would stand up out of the water, with only the sun to depend on to dry my clothes before we returned to the car.

It never failed that I would then hear a cry in the background and my time with God would be over for that day. I would hear a certain wail that would come out of nowhere that never let me down on any trip to Knob Creek. My baby girl and my pre-teen would have had enough of each other for that day, or maybe by some divine nature it was just supposed to be that way, and with a grateful smile I would take one last look at the sky above. It was time for mama again, and even though I wasn’t mama a lot in those days, it was in the plans. Then I would run around the corner to surprise them and let them know I was ready for the rest of our afternoon together, and somehow the fight would always seem to cease at that point.

Even though it took many trips to the creek that summer to find a plan, and many meetings with the “man upstairs” to start our journey in this life again, it has never ceased to amaze me that even in the roughest of times I found peace there in that water. When I would head back with my girls to finish our days splashing, running, laughing and throwing mud, then basking in the sun like some hound pups, that is when I heard the still small voice inside that said to me I had known the answers I was seeking all along. The answers were within the laughter and giggles of two little wonderful girls that depended on me with their whole hearts, and in their cries back up the hill of hard rocks on our journey back home.

Some would say those days were wasted, but as for me and my girls, I believe we would all agree it was time well spent. We found our family again that summer at the creek. When everyone else thought we were running away because they couldn’t find us, we were actually doing quite the opposite. We were finding the missing piece to our family that we had been searching for three years. Somewhere in the sand and the sun, and the tall trees and muddy water, we remembered what family meant to us, and what we wanted our family to become. Even though there would always be a missing piece, we realized it never was really missing to begin with. In our hearts and souls our memories could never completely die.

So there began the journey we are still on today, only with a better map, a little more direction, and a lot more peace. I owe so much to that creek for giving a meeting place like no other to reflect on who I really am, and who I want to become one day. Even though there is still a long way left to go on our journey, I could have never imagined a better starting point. And we can never forget we have each other, because even when there is nothing left, my girls and I will always have each other.

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Defining Chloe

by Jodie Simmons

When she was the mama for so long,

How do you ever expect her to go back?

BUT SHE IS

GRACE.

GOD GIVEN.

SHE IS GOING BACK.

Nothing is ever easy, baby girl,

And don’t we know you learned the hard way.

HARD. LIFE IS SOMETIMES SO HARD.

BUT SHE IS GOING BACK.

While Mama is finally movin’ forward,

and baby

Sister you had to raise up by yourself can

Finally be a kid, too.

YOU CAN FINALLY BE A CHILD.

INNOCENT. CAREFREE.

Will big sis be jealous of baby sis?

Not her. She’s too strong.

But maybe in her room, late.

Like when she wonders about her own daddy sometimes.

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Maybe she will be a little hurt.

MAMA KNOWS SHE WILL.

Thanks to the mama she has made outta me, Mama will always be there to catch those tears.

AS LONG AS GOD WILL ALLOW.

You see, Big Sister,

LOVE WILL KEEP US TOGETHER.

AND IF WE HAVE ANYTHING IN THIS WORLD-

WE GOT LOVE.

GOD GIVEN. TRUE LOVE.

So laugh, as loud and as often as you can.

Shed a tear whenever needed.

I will be here beside you either way.

ONCE THERE WAS A COMPLAINT.

Mama said she wasn’t cut out to do this all alone.

Now Mama only wants you to know…..

I CAN DO IT, BABY GIRL.

I AM CUT OUT FOR THE PART GOD GAVE ME.

I COULDN’T GO THROUGH LIFE KNOWIN’ ANYONE ELSE WAS PLAYIN’ THESE CARDS GOD DEALT ME.

Who else is LUCKY enough to have been strugglin’ this whole game,

Only to be sittin’ pretty now, all at stake for the future,

WITH THE VERY TWO CARDS-GREATER-

THAN THE EQUIVALENT OF

TWO POCKET ACES.

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You are one, and baby sister she is the other,

But I know I didn’t even have to tell you that.

BECAUSE YOU-BIG SISTER-ARE THE VERY ONE

WHO TAUGHT ME THIS GAME CALLED LIFE!

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by Trisha Scrivner

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Imperfections

by Shelly J. Lemons

You accept me as I am

With no thought to my looks, you see me

All my Imperfections you love

You don't see the outside

You only see what is within me


You say that love is not perfect

You say that people are not perfect


I am not perfect

You are not perfect

Our love is the most perfect

Imperfections and all

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The Beatles

by Joshua Routon

(Based on The Beatles lyrics/song titles)

Baby I want you I want you so bad

But I can't help but wonder what you're doing What you're doing to me

So baby won't you help! me?

I know we can work it out You're saying let it be

As I'm begging you don't let me down

I'm sorry I made you cry baby cry It won't happen again no

Not a second time All you need is love; my love

But you can't keep talking to him

I said you can't do that This is a message from me to you

I need your lovin' eight days a week

You've got me stuck in strawberry fields I'm misplaced here

Blunt as a glass onion But you can't see me; Nowhere man

Everybody's telling me "Run for your life"

Hide my head in the sand Cause it won't be long yeah

That I'll go from within you to without you

Without you I became Left the shore in my yellow submarine

Now I say hello; baby it's you While you say goodbye; it's only love

You say you're a Beatles kinda girl Searching across the universe for your Jude

But hey Lucy; Little did you know I'm a Beatles kinda guy

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Crime of Passion

by Joshua Routon

Gunshot; explosion That was louder than I'd have thought

Should I clean the mess or run? Am I going to be caught?

Why don't I feel bad

This all happened way too fast It's just he was on her and..

It was something I could never get past

I didn't mean to cause harm They say I could never hurt a fly

Has my cerebral cortex been damaged? I can't bring the tears to cry

I walked into my home

With tussling noises in the bed I opened to door to see them

From there everything just went red

Before I could even think My mind flew me to the nightstand

It all happened in and instant drawer; gun; unwrap; and then...

My back goes instantly to the wall

I let myself slide down slowly Holding this piece in my hand

Shaking; scared; distraught and now lonely

Me being the person I am I decide to call the police

I just want to make this right I'll need a good lawyer to plead this case

Two years later

After a constant reminder in all these trials The dreadful day has passed

Made it through all the papers in files

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Society let me off the hook They called it crime of passion

That was not the path I took I couldn't, it wasn't the right action

Silver revolver; claimed two lives

Everything they had, all they were about They may have done something I felt wrong

But in the end; third strike; I'm out

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No Religion

by Joshua Routon

Wake into to a gorgeous day The same routine begins

Work, pray, maybe meditate What a beautiful wasted way it ends

Some believe in heaven above Which is perfectly fine by me

Others focus on rebirth In which karma is the key

So many theories exist

All based around life after death But really what are the chances

That yours is any better than the rest?

Maybe yours is older Been on record longer

Maybe it's more convenient Making you feel stronger

I hear often it lifts a burden Oh how nice it is to pretend

Hiding problems to deal with This is how all of us should mend

I don't deny it's possible

Life after death sounds nice Although I don't see the logic In basing life to happen twice

Start your day as yours

Don't fear what can't be answered Live with wide open doors

Don't let these thoughts bury you like cancer

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bybb

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Contributors to Dyer Statements

Belinda Barker is currently a junior English major with a concentration in writing at UTM. Having loved writing since childhood, she hopes to pursue an MFA in creative writing.

Dr. Karen Bowyer has worked as a teacher of mathematics and/or administrator at Libertyville High School in Illinois; Colegio Bolivar in Cali, Colombia; the American School Foundation in Mexico City, Mexico; Shelby State Community College in Memphis and Dyersburg State Community College ( DSCC) in Dyersburg, TN. She has served as President of DSCC since November 1984. Over the past 28 years she has spearheaded the construction of off-campus centers in Covington, Trenton and Union City. Dr. Bowyer began the College’s first Annual Fund Campaign in 1985-86. Over the past 26 years these Campaigns have raised over $14 million. The DSCC Foundation was charted in 1988 and began raising funds for it

endowment. Currently over $6 million in endowment has been raised or pledged. Enrollment has grown by more than 100% during her tenure. Professional and Community Service includes the following: President, Tennessee College Association; Chair of the Committee on Latin American Schools of the Southern Association of Colleges and Schools (SACS); member of the Executive Council of the Southern Association of Colleges and Schools Commission on Colleges Board of Trustees; honorary chair, West Tennessee Girl Scouts Heart of the South 100th Anniversary; chair of the West Tennessee United Way Board; chair of Fund Raising for the Dyer County Chapter of the American Red Cross in 2011-12; Community Advisory Board Member for the Heart of the South Girl Scout Council; Advisory Board Member for Mississippi River Corridor Tennessee, member of the Board of Directors of WLJT-TV (public television); member of the National Advisory Committee on Institutional Quality and Integrity for the U.S. Secretary of Education; member of the Dyer County YMCA Board of Directors; Vice President of Education for the Dyersburg/Dyer County Chamber of Commerce; member of the Dyersburg Kiwanis Club. She graduated from Leadership Memphis in 1983 and from the Dyer County Leadership Program in 1997.

Dr. Bowyer earned a Ph.D. in mathematics education from the University of Alabama, a Master’s Degree in mathematics from Rutgers, The State University of New Jersey and a Bachelor of Arts in mathematics and German from Knox College, Galesburg, Illinois.

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Sam Doaks is a student at DSCC.

Dr. Carol Feather is Chair of DSCC’s Music Department. Dr. Carol Feather is the only remaining full-time faculty member who started teaching at DSCC from the beginning. She is originally from Latrobe, PA (the home town of Mr. Rogers of Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood). She has traveled extensively; her trips include the Galapagos Islands, the Arctic, the Antarctic, and Russia (when it was still behind the Iron Curtain).

Betty Hallmark will be receiving a dual degree (A.A. Psychology & A.A. English) from DSCC. She loves the outdoors. Her hobby and passion has always been to try and capture the beauty of the world on film. Betty loves ART in any form: canvas, dance, musicals, etc… The best art receives a reaction, and she loves reactions to her work. Her main goal is to make people smile.

J ulie Hasuly was born and raised in Salem, OR. Up until she was in the 8th grade (when the Exxon Valdez spill occurred), she wanted to be a veterinarian. After the spill, her career goals were more environmental. In her own words, “I wanted to repopulate an endangered species, do something with recycling, decrease pollution, slow natural resource consumption, etc. When I was a sophomore in high school (Oct. 30, 1991), I was diagnosed with two malignant brain tumors. The chemotherapy and

radiation that destroyed the tumors also damaged my cochlea (part of the inner ear), leaving me with progressive hearing loss. I graduated from Oregon State University in 1999 with a BS in Environmental Science, a double-option in Environmental Chemistry and Environmental Engineering, and a Chemistry minor. When I lost my sense of hearing, I also lost most of my sense of balance and was unable to find a permanent environmental job (I did not feel comfortable doing field work). So I went back to school to try to earn a degree in teaching to become a professional tutor, but was unsuccessful because of my hearing loss (I couldn’t do my student-teaching in a small classroom so I could hear better). After moving to Brighton, TN in 2005 when I married my husband, I decided to look into getting a cochlear implant. I had the implant surgery

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in 2007 and began attending the University of Memphis with hopes of being a high school math teacher. Again, I was unsuccessful. Along with my hearing loss, not only did I lose most of my balance, but after more than 15 years of trying to understand what was going on around me, I also lost my ability to multi-task, something that is necessary for a teacher. So instead of a teaching degree, I graduated from the U of M in the spring of 2010 with a Master’s in Education. I began working as a math and science tutor in the JNC Tutoring Center in January of 2011, and am now the Tutor Coordinator there.”

Mr. Ken Jones is a biologist with many years of research concerning endangered species and their habitat requirements. He has been a member of the faculty at DSCC since 1991 and Mississippi River Rat since the age of 12.

Shelly Lemons is a 2003 alumna of DSCC. She resides in Newbern, TN with her husband of 17 years.

Brandi Lowery is from Dyersburg and will graduate from DSCC in May 2013. She has been a DSCC cheerleader. She is an SGA Senator, and she’s a peer mentor to DSCC’s freshmen.

Dr. William Northcutt is an Associate Professor of English at DSCC. This is his 9th year teaching at Dyersburg State Community College. His expertise is writing and literature, especially 20th century American, British, and World Literature. In his spare time, Dr. Northcutt plays guitar and bass—cranked up and ready to do rock, blues, and jazz.

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Christina Pease lives in Dyersburg and is pursuing an Associate of Fine Arts degree at DSCC. She plans to attend the University of Martin to pursue a BFA in Graphic design. She is a self-taught artist, and the concept of fantasy plays a major role in her drawings.

Joshua Routon is twenty-three years old and lives in Atoka, TN. Routon started writing poems as a hobby when he was seventeen, soon finding himself surrounded by his own works. During his childhood Routon was raised on navy bases and traveled constantly. Though this experience he received an open mindedness which has allowed him creativity in his writings. Currently, Routon is a general studies major at Dyersburg State Community College but has dreams of transferring and finishing with a degree in Computer Engineering.

Ashley Sandlin is a 20 year old girl born August 6th 1992,born in Arkansas, and has lived in both Texas and Tennessee .She has always had a strong interest in art. She prefers to draw Anime, Cartoons, and Semi-realistic artwork. She is still debating on what to do with her future, but she wants to find something that she will always enjoy. She is a fun loving and easy going girl who always enjoys meeting new people and making new friends!

DeAndré Scott, 20, was born December 25, 1992 in Detroit, Michigan. He is a sophomore majoring in Psychology at Dyersburg State Community College. He serves as President of the Student Government Association, a Student Ambassador, Peer Mentor for the Get Ready! Program, Ambassador for the Tennessee Consortium for International Studies (TnCIS), and is a Student Assistant in the Student Services division. Upon Graduation, DeAndré plans to pursue his bachelor’s degree in Industrial and

Organizational Psychology and working in Firm. He currently resides in Tigrett, Tennessee with his grandmother and younger sister.

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Trisha Scrivner is a mother of three. Her children motivate her and are the reason she started DSCC and decided to become an LPN. After receiving her LPN, she plans to further her education and to become an RN.

Jodie Simmons is currently a student at Dyersburg State Community College pursuing a Bachelor of Science in a Nursing degree, with plans to transfer to the University of Memphis. The loves of her life include her two beautiful girls, Chloe, 13, and Cadie, 7. She enjoys all things that include learning and growing through new experiences in life. Her favorite thing to take part in aside from school would have to be serving in her home church, First Christian Church of Dyersburg, reading and learning to be a runner this year. She plans to pursue medical missions in the United States and foreign countries, and the sky is the limit in the future ahead of her!

Ellyn Smith lives in Dyersburg and is finishing her final semester as a secondary education major. She is passionate about creative writing and strives to help others find their “voice”. She began writing at an early age as a way of expressing her darker and more tumultuous side, and continues that tradition today.

Therese Warmath has lived in Dyersburg for most of her life and has a son, Jesse, who lives in Oregon. Therese graduated in December, 2012, with an Assoc. of Science Degree in CIT, with Software Applications concentration, along with two certificates. She eagerly participates in various community art-related functions and enjoys: photography, quilting, needle work, reading and cooking. Therese currently works part time in the Tutoring Center at the Dyersburg DSCC campus.

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Dyersburg • Covington • Trenton

www.dscc.edu • E-mail: [email protected] 1510 Lake Road, Dyersburg, TN 38024 • 731-286-3200 DSCC does not discriminate on the basis of race, color, national origin, sex, disability, or age in its programs and activities.

The following person has been designated to handle inquiries regarding the non-discrimination policies: Director of Human

Resources/Affirmative Action Officer; Eller Administration Building, Room 231; 1510 Lake Road, Dyersburg TN 38024 731-286

3316 A Tennessee Board of Regents Institution PUB 03_13_176

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