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WINDFALL FALL 2013

Windfall (Fall Issue) 2013

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Page 1: Windfall (Fall Issue) 2013

WINDFALL FALL 2013

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FEATURES

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CONTENTS

REGULARS

“Everyone’s personal

experience has a

different story and a

different outcome. My

story is a lot different

than others…” 16The Hunger Games: Catching Fire Reviewed 4

28. To Be or Not to Be...an English Major

Winner of Photography contest 2013 7Poetry 19

-Freshman Spotlight: Katelyn Parkinson 18 30 Inside the Book:-Divergent & Catching Fire

iii Remembering Seamus Heaney

Short Stories 11Photography 34

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Thank you for picking up our fall issue of Windfall. 2013 has been a great year for Windfall after receiving great praise over our new style and format. This semester we have added a couple of new additions to our format. Our magazine this year features new categories that include different personal stories and reviews of books / movies. We were lucky enough to get a lot of strong support from local business that provided advertisement spaces. I am very lucky to be working with a brilliant and talented team this year. Their ideas and skills have reached Windfall’s expectations to the max. I would first like to thank my co-editor Nikki Anderson for all her support and help, even though she says I do everything. I would next like to thank my

amazing team, without these three fresh minds our publication would not be existent. Thanks to our amazing advisor Jeff Halprin for directing us in the right direction through everything. Windfall has become a great learning environment for everyone and we cannot wait to see where next semester take us. Again thank you for taking the time to pick up this edition and strongly suggest that if you like to write poetry, short stories, or take pictures to come join our team! All submissions can be submitted to myself or to Professor Halprin. Thank you and enjoy!

Ryan Finnegan

NOTE FROM THE EDITOR

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!

Seamus Heaney passed away AUGUST 30th, 2013. The members of WINDFALL would like to dedicate this fall issue in his behalf. We were

truly blessed to have his letter to WINDFALL from 1991 included below. Enjoy!

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FROM THE 1991 SPRING

EDITION OF

WINDFAL

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THE HUNGER GAMES: CATCHING FIRE REVIEWED

MATTHEW POCHAL

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The  Hunger  Games:  Catching  Fire,  Director  Francis  Lawrence  (I  Am  Legend  and  Water  for  Elephants)  was  able  to  bring  Suzanne  Collins’s  second  install-­‐ment  of  the      Hunger  Games,  Catching  Fire,  to  life  brilliantly  on  the  big  screen.  Lawrence  was  able  to  deliver  such  justice  to  Collin’s  novel  but  also  putting  in  his  own  style  and  interpretation.  Although  director  of  the  Hunger  Games,  Gary  Ross,  Hilmed  an  excellent  movie,  Lawrence  just  created  a  better  sequel.  In  Catching  Fire,  it  starts  out  in  the  outskirts  of  District  12,  in  the  forest  where  once  again  we  see  Katniss  and  Gale  hunting  in  the  woods.  Life  in  the  12  is  not  the  same  for  Katniss  anymore.  After  winning  her  Games,  supposedly  star-­‐crossed  lovers,  Katniss  and  Peeta  must  still  Hight  for  their  lives  on  the  Victory  Tour,

 trying  to  convince  the  Districts  that  the  berries  were  out  of  love  not  rebellion.  However,  the  next  Hunger  Games  is  the  75  annual  Quarter  Quell.  Not  only  must  Katniss  be  sent  back  into  the  Games,  she  has  to  face  other  previous  victors.  Actor  and  Academy  Award  winner  Jennifer  Lawrence,  once  again  brings  incredible  and  amazing  talent  towards  her  character  Katniss  Everdeen.  Lawrence  as  usual,  never  disappoints  with  her  roles  and  brings  such  emotion  to  the  audience.  Not  only  do  we  see  returning  cast  members  such  as  Josh  Hutcherson,  Liam  Hemsworth,  and  Woody  Harrelson,  but  new  members  as  well.  New  cast  member,  Sam  ClaHlin,  brings  Dis-­‐trict  4  tribute’s  Finnick  Odair  to  the  screen  with  such  accuracy  and  trueness  to  the  real  conceited  Finnick  in  Collin’s  novel.  

ClaHlin,  like  other  new  member  Jenna  Malone,  actor  who  portrays      Johanna  Mason,  a  vic-­‐tor  from  District  7,  brings  new  talent  and  fresh  blood  to  the  cast  members  and  deliver  their  parts  so  well.  Overall,  Catching  Fire  was  an  amazing  portrayal  of  the  book,  showing  love,  hate,  and  war  all  in  one  big  action  packed  movie  that  will  leave  you  wanting  more.  Catching  Fire  is  a  movie  that  will  leave  you  on  the  edge  of  your  seat,  hungry  for  more,  and  anxious  for  the  next  installment  of  the  trilogy,  Mockingjay.  

!

MOVIES

The Hunger Games: Catching Fire (2013) Director: Francis Lawrence Cast: Jennifer Lawrence, Josh Hutcherson. Liam Hemsworth, and

By Matthew Pochal

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WINNER OF FALL 2013 PHOTOGRAPHY CONTEST

SAMANTHA DIREDA CLASS OF 2017

"Scratch Me Silly"

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AppetizersEgg Rolls $1.90/ $3.75Spring Rolls $2.80Beef Rolls $3.00Fried Shrimp $4.50/6.95Peking Ravioli $3.75/5.95Chicken Wings $4.50/6.95Chicken Fingers $4.50/6.95Crab Rangoons $5.00/7.50Beef Teriyaki $4.50/6.95Chicken Teriyaki $4.50/6.95Boneless Ribs $4.50/6.95Kamikaze Chicken *ÿ $6.25/8.25Kamikaze Wings *ÿ $6.25/8.95French Fries $1.80/3.25Scallion Pancakes $5.95 PuPu Platter for 2 $16.75Boneless Ribs, Beef Teriyaki (4), Egg Rolls (2), Chicken Wings (4), Fried Shrimp (2), Chicken Fingers (6), Crab Rangoons (6) 

Super Appetizer Combination Platters $8.25(Served with Pork Fried Rice)A. Fried Shrimp (2), Chicken Fingers (8), Boneless RibsB. Spring Roll (1), Fried Shrimp (2), Chicken Wings (2), Beef Teriyaki (2)C. Chicken Fingers (8), Beef Teriyaki (2), Boneless RibsD. Crab Rangoons (4), Chicken Wings (2), Beef Teriyaki (2)E. Egg Roll (1), Chicken Fingers (8), Beef Teriyaki (2)F. Crab Rangoons (6), Chicken Fingers (4), Boneless RibsG. Egg Roll (1), Beef Teriyaki (2), Chicken Fingers (4), Boneless RibsH. Crab Rangoons (6), Beef Teriyaki (2), Boneless Ribs

Super Chinese Combination Platters $9.25(Served with Pork Fried Rice)

S1: Strange Flavored Chicken*ÿ, Chicken Wings (2), Crab Rangoons (4) *S2: General Gau's Chicken*ÿ, Egg Roll (1), Chicken Fingers (5)S3: Chicken w/ Vegetables, Egg Roll (1), Beef Teriyaki (2)S4: Moo Goo Gai Pan, Crab Rangoons, Boneless RibsS5: Yu Hsiang Pork, Boneless Ribs, Chicken Fingers (5)S6: Chow Mein/Chop Suey (Any Kind), Chicken Wings (2), Beef Teriyaki (2)S7: Beef w/ Broccoli, Crab Rangoons (4), Boneless RibsS8: Green Pepper Steak*ÿ, Boneless Ribs, Chicken Fingers (5)S9: Kung Pao Beef*ÿ, Chicken Fingers (5), Egg Roll (1)S10: Shrimp w/ Lobster Sauce, Chicken Wings (2), Crab Rangoons (4)S11: Yu Hsiang Shrimp*ÿ, Chicken Fingers (5), Boneless RibsS12: Stir Fried Vegetables, Crab Rangoons (4), Chicken Fingers (5)S13: Beef with Mushrooms, Boneless Ribs, Chicken Wings (2)S14: Ginger Chicken or Beef w/ String Beans,

MON - SAT: 11:30 AM - 12:00 AMSUN: 12:00 PM - 12:00 AM

ACCEPTS:

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SHORT STORIES

MATTHEW POCHAL

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She’s more than beautiful. Try to stop her in the street; you’re not getting her name. Regina Grace is a woman who knows what she wants, and she’ll get it. Gina is a showstopper. You never wait for a confrontation with her. Men love her; women hate her. And Gina does not give a damn.I meet her one night in a sleazy little pub, and as the night wears down we sit drown-ing shots of Jaeger with Red Bull. She tells me her story. Our brains intertwine; now this is my story to tell. The men surround-ing us grow more lecherous with each drink. Make no mistakes; I myself am one of those lecherous dogs. I just like to think I hide it better than they do. I know these dogs are glaring at me, wishing to be me because it is I she has chosen to sit with. I am lost in the shadow of the magnificent Regina Grace, aided by alcohol and ador-ing every licorice-burping minute. She’s just that girl. Not exactly red hair, more the idea of it. Her head is thrown back as she laughs, with a slender leg stretching provocatively. Her left high heel dangles from her pointed toe as she stretches, then snaps the shoe back into place. Every eye in the place follows that move. Faint scars run along her right cheek, and it only heightens her beauty. Every man in that dump is still eyeing that leg and thinking nothing good. I had originally tried to hit on her; it did not work. I’m a man who will take what he can get. Now Regina is showing me a picture. A sullen looking guy is next to her, messing up what could have been a master-piece. His face is weathered, and a large nose is jutting from that leathery mess of a face like a hawk’s beak. Long blonde hair tied off with black rawhide. He’s a simple man with a slight handicap; he’s an amputee…the left leg. I can’t see this in the photograph, no one could, but she tells me as I’m holding the two of them on paper in my palm. I try not to let Gina see the look on my face but here it is. I can’t help it. Up go my eyebrows and my lips twist involuntarily. She’s disgusted by my reaction. The two of them met in a crazy way. As she tells me the story, all I am left to do is fall in love with her. He’s dead now. Gina says this as she scoops peanuts from the bowl between us, and her brown eyes fill with tears. I would have killed all those dogs in the bar at that moment to get her man back, amputee that he was. How’s a guy like that get a girl like her…I’ll tell you. So she’s walking along the beach one night, and his dog attacks her. Just mauls the shit out of her face. He doesn’t bring her to the hospital; he loves his dog and doesn’t want it put down. He feels terrible but he doesn’t want to lose his com-panion. Turns out, the guy is a nurse (A fucking man-nurse, can you believe it?). Gina had fainted from the whole thing and wakes up in this dude’s arms, her face sewn together and bandaged, him with that nose looking over her. They wind up talk-ing for hours. I interrupt her here. “What do you mean; you wind up talking for hours?” “Just what I said.” She raises an eyebrow and crushes a cigarette into the ashtray, smoke unfurling from her red lips. I buy her another shot. “Continue.” I slide the shot towards her. “I want to hear the rest, Gina. I don’t get how you can fall in love with some-one who lets his dog attack you and then doesn’t get you medical attention.” “That’s because you...“ She slams back the shot. ”…are an insensitive prick.” She continues on then.Finally he helps her home and her whole family is aghast at what has happened. I guess they have been worried sick wonder-ing where the hell she was, but Gina just kind of brushes it off. By this time, she feels something for the dude, something she thinks is pity. Her family presses her to sue. She refuses.

REGINA GRACE

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The next day, Gina walks the beach again, and there he is. James, his name is. Gina and James. And just like that, they fall in love. I look at her skeptically when she tells me ‘just like that, we fell in love’, but she ignores me in a way that only the truly loved can. I try to pry a bit more.“How do you know it was love? In just one day?”“I just know.” Gina stops talking for a minute; her voice is soft and sad. So I figure she must be telling the truth, but I still don’t get it. This guy – he’s no looker. I guess to some people looks truly don’t mat-ter. I can’t say that for myself though, nope. I’m a legs and eyes man, and ugly women just don’t cut it for me. I don’t like me any fat chicks, either. And I sure as hell don’t like chicks whose dog has just fucking sliced my face open.Now it’s nearing the end of the night, and Regina is crying as she tells me of his death. He killed him-self, she says. Just swam out into the ocean and never came back. Never left a note or anything, so I suggest an accident. She turns to me then, and there it is – that gleam of fury in her eyes that makes her look like a goddess incarnate. I feel like an idiot for suggesting it. Gina continues on with her story, tells me how it was the best summer of her life. When she met James she was transformed into something else, a better person. He made her feel like she could do anything, that just because she was so beautiful it didn’t mean she wasn’t smart. He loved her for her, not for her beauty. Cli-ché, huh? Gina swears that it’s Truth. She tells me how before, everyone in her life just based every-thing on the way she looked. James didn’t. And it was as simple as that. He was depressed, James was. He saw too much ugly, too much gray in a world of black and white. Gina tried to cheer him up enough to want to stay, but it wasn’t enough. ‘I’m a fucking ampu-tee’, he told her. ‘All I’ll do is bring you down’. They spent all summer talking, talking, and talking, while her family ignored her and James in disgust. They hated him, hated that his dog had ruined her face. But James and Gina didn’t see the maul-ing as ruining her face. In fact, Gina told me, she liked it. The scars took the attention from her beauty.Crazy red-haired vixen. Siren of all men who were previously nothing. If she only knew how those scars leaped out, the silver against her pale face serving as nothing less than a magnet for any man.At this point in the story, the tears completely over-take her. I help her up and over to the ladies.As I settle back onto the barstool, Tom comes over (Tom who owns the place) and he just kind of stares at me.“What!?”“You know what the hell you’re doing, Kevin? She’s been in here a few times, buddy. She’s bad news,

that girl.” Tom starts cleaning the bar, all noncha-lant, but I know what this dog is up to.“I’m fucking fine, Tom. Just trying to help the girl get over whatever she needs to.”Tom snorts out his laughter and thankfully, moves on. I yell for another shot, two shots, and as Regina slides back onto the bar stool Tom brings ‘em down. “You okay?” I want to lean in, caress her leg a bit. I already tried that move though, and Gina wasn’t having it. “I’m fine. You ready?” We clink our shot glasses together and knock back more of that harsh, licorice sweetness.So by now in Gina’s story, it’s closing in on the end of the summer. She packs her things. Not to return home, but to move in with him – and he refuses, James broke up with her. She’s a heartbroken mess, but her family couldn’t have been happier. They bring up the issue of suing him again, de-manding that she act like she’s got some sense. She lost it then, went ballistic on her father, and eventu-ally her mother gets everyone calmed down enough to leave. So off they go, back to her former life. But now, it’s a life tainted with memories of a hawk-nosed amputee.The news two weeks later, they all have a head-liner about a missing man in Westerly, Rhode Is-land, in a place called Misquamicut Beach. Gina tells me her heart froze when she heard it, and she knew then that it was James and he wasn’t miss-ing. She knew that he had offed himself. Those were her exact words to me -- he offed himself.She grinds out another cigarette, exhales heavily, and stands. She’s looking down at me like I’m some-thing she’s never seen before. She’s unsteady on her feet, so I jump up and grab her arm. “You okay?” I feel electrified, stroking this feline goddess’s arm.“I’m fine. Just need to go. I can’t…talk…about James anymore. It hurts. It’s been 10 years, and I’m still not over it.” My head spins when she ad-mits it’s been 10 years. How is that possible, that this creature of beauty is still in mourning over an old, dead, washed-up amputee? I walk her out to the street, press a twenty into her hand, and hail a taxi.Just like that, she’s gone. When I head back in the bar, the sweet scent of alco-hol hits my nostrils like an assassin. I take one look at Tom and all those other dogs and change my mind. Back on the street, it takes too long to flag another taxi. By the time I finally get a cab, I’ll never catch her. So I just pull up my collar and hunker down in my seat, letting my breath fog up the glass.

Nikki  Anderson  ‘14

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I was in Hell.

I wasn’t angry about it. I knew why I was there. I’d done some pretty nasty stuff. Married men. Then, when they’d dump me (always) -- money to keep my mouth shut. Even a car once. And once I didn’t keep it shut. He’d been the one I really wanted. If I couldn’t have him. Big man. Important. Big house, kids. Three car garage. Must have taken forever to fill up with exhaust. So ok. But the pain. I can’t describe. You know how you don’t feel the skin hurt when you’re punched in the stomach? Well, the fire’s hot here all right, but who cares. The soul burns. I don’t know how long I’d been here. I’d look up every so often and see people crossing way above on one of those narrow stone arches. Indiana Jones stuff. I didn’t know any of them; never the same person twice. Except for one guy who must have been the guide. Him I saw all the time. Then once I did recognize somebody. Even that far off. He ran the donut shop down the street from me. Nice guy. I’d come in a lot. Strung out. Depressed to shit. He’d always talk to me. I’d say, “Why can’t I ever get a guy like you?” And he’d wave his occupied ring fin-ger at me and laugh. And if I fished in my pockets a minute, he’d say, “Get me next time, Linda.” Sometimes that was all I’d eat that day.

And there he was, passing overhead on this bridge out of Monument National Park. Same guy leading him. But I couldn’t remember his name. And he was almost gone . . . “Hey, Dono-Rama!” I yelled out as loud as I could. “Down here! Dono-man!!!” I saw him stop. He looked down and called. “Linda? Linda, it’s me. Ray.”

HELL’S OTHER PEOPLE

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JAMEIL ALI

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I called back, “Ray, thank God! Get me outa here! Help me!” I saw him turn to the guide. Did Ray nod? Then next thing I know . . .I’m standing up there on the stone arch. There’s a man next to me who I guess is the guide. But no Ray.

And no flames, inside or out.

“What?!” I started. I looked around.

“He’s down there,” the guide said. I looked down and I could see him. His face.

“He asked me if there was any way, and I told him: Yes. If someone agrees to trade places. ‘Better love hath no man,’ and all that. So here you are. Nice guy, Ray. Your boy-friend?”

He walked me to the end of the bridge and pointed out an opening in the wall. “Just keep walking now,” he said. “It only gets better.” Then he was gone.

He was right. I can’t describe. Breezes. Sights. You know how you’re heart feels when love touches your skin?

I didn’t see anybody else. Too early, I guessed. There was a mountain, and I started for it.

Until I stopped. Shrugged. Shook my head. Spoke.

Next second, I’m back. Down there. But at least Ray was out, back where he deserved.

Until I looked around and saw him next to me.

I was rip-shit. “Hey Choir Boy !!!” I yelled. “Hey Wing Tips!!! What the fuck?!”

Then I saw that he was there, too. The guide.

“Finally,” he said. He was smiling. And everybody was smiling. “You’re the last one.”

I cocked my head at him.

“That’s why you didn’t see anyone up there,” he said. “They’re all down here . . .”

“You mean, everybody’s in hell?” I shouted. He nodded. “Everybody? Like saints? Like . . . Mary?”

“That’s her over there,” he motioned with his chin.

“ My mother’ll freak,” I laughed. Again he motioned. “She already knows.” I stopped.

“So I was right all along,” I said. “We’re all damned.” He put his finger, very gently, to my lips.

“I told you how it works here. Compassion. Someone feels just too badly for someone else to leave them. They take their place. Then that person ends up doing the same. There are always new people crossing, new chances. Until, finally, everyone is down here . . .”

“But doesn’t that defeat the whole purpose?” I was lost.

“The decision was made a long time ago. Nobody goes till everyone goes.”

I heard a deep voice from the crowd. “While one soul is imprisoned . . .”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh, that’s God,” the guide said. “He thinks he’s Eugene Debs.”

“God’s down here, too?! Whose place did he take?”

“Mine,” said the guide with a smile, and his eyes smol-dered a little. I’d thought he looked a bit like Pacino. But they all do to me . . .

“Wait a minute,” I took him by the shoulders. “This is the place where God is, right? And now everybody’s here. To-gether. And everybody really cares? But wouldn’t that make this . . .?”

You know how when you turn on the defogger, and it all just melts away from the bottom up? You know that the rainbow has a big arched shadow?

-Professor Wayne-Daniel Berard

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Everyone’s  personal  experience  has  a  different  story  and  a  different  out-­‐come.    My  story  is  a  lot  dif-­ferent  than  others….

I  was  raised  a  lot  differently  and  it  has  made  me  a  bet-­‐ter  person  because  I  know  the  importance  of  being  alive.    People  may  know  me  as  the  girl  who  writes  poems  and  the  girl  who  studies  all  night.    They  really  do  not  know  me  though,  that  is  why  I  am  writing  this.    People  should  know  about  the  experience  that  changed  my  life  forever,  for  this  is  the  story  of  how  I  became  who  I  am  today.   I  came  into  this  world  differently  than  most  of  my  other  classmates.    I  was  not  made  out  of  sunshine,  happiness,  and  rainbows.    I  came  from  a  16-­‐year-­‐old  girl  in  high  school.    She  did  not  have  a  boyfriend,  and  she  slept  with  a  lot  of  guys.    The  day  she  found  out  she  was  pregnant,  she  hated  herself,  and  she  tried  to  ignore  the  little  person  inside  her  stomach.    She  didn’t  even  know  whom  her  baby  belonged  to,  and  she  just  didn’t  care.    She  did  not  want  anyone  to  know  she  was  pregnant,  not  even  her  own  family.    As  a  result  of  her  neglect,  I  was  born  prematurely.    I  was  in  an  incubator  for  a  very  long  time.    She  did  not  know  how  to  take  care  of  me,  so  I  ended  up  needing  a  lot  of  medical  attention  as  well  as  a  lot  of  people  to  look  after  me.    I  was  fed  junk  food  and  soda  for  a  while.    Nobody  thought  that  I  would  be  alive  for  a  long.    People  had  doubts  that  I  would  live  past  the  First  year.    My  biological  mother  was  smart  enough  to  ask  her  relatives  for  help.    That  is  where  my  aunt  and  uncle  come  in.    I  was  always  being  taken  care  of  by  them.    I  was  at  their  house  more  than  I  was  at  my  own  house.    One  day,  my  mother  decided  that  she  could  not  take  care  of  me.    At  3  years  old,  I  moved  into  my  aunt  and  uncle’s  home.    This  is  the  place  that  I  knew  was  a  safe  haven,  a  place  where  I  knew  I  would  be  able  to  make  it  past  5  years  old.    I  was  a  scared  little  girl.    I  did  not  understand  what  was  hap-­‐pening  most  of  the  time.   When  I  was  8  years  old  and  I  had  lived  with  my  aunt  and  uncle  for  about  5  years,  they  told  me  that  they  wanted  to  adopt  me.    I  said  yeah  sure  no  problem  and  was  very  excited.    It  was  a  little  strange  from  calling  them  aunt  and  uncle  to  mom  and  dad.    The  day  of  the  adoption,  the  judge  let  me  play  with  the  things  on  his  desk  and  I  was  having  a  great  time.    I  am  still  not  sure  what  really  happened.    Apparently  they  wanted  to  adopt  me  a  while  ago,  but  my  biologi-­‐cal  mother  was  not  sure  that  she  wanted  to  lose  cus-­‐tody  of  me.    Finally,  I  had  a  family  that  loved  me  and  knew  how  to  take  care  of  me,  a  family  that  would  take  me  on  trips  and  spoil  me.    This  was  the  event  that  changed  my  life.       My  parents,  the  judge  and  I  all  sat  in  an  ofFice  and  signed  the  papers,  papers  that  changed  my  last  name  and  who  I  was  forever.    Technically,  my  aunt  and  uncle  are  now  my  mom  and  dad  all  because  of  a  few  papers.    That  is  not  really  the  whole  truth;  they  

became  my  parents  because  of  who  they  are.    They  are  loving,  caring,  and  very  kind.    They  have  always  been  there  for  me  and  always  will  be.    They  encour-­‐age  me  in  school  and  in  life.    They  are  my  guardian  angels  that  show  me  what  is  right  and  wrong.    They  are  the  ones  closest  to  my  heart,  the  ones  who  give  a  warm  glow  that  allows  me  to  see  things  differently,  a  new  perspective,  a  different  way  of  noticing  people.    I  always  try  to  Find  the  good  in  others,  just  like  my  par-­‐ents.    I  know  that  even  the  worst  people  do  have  a  heart.    I  will  always  hear  their  voices  of  wisdom  and  feel  the  strength  that  they  gave  me.    My  life  has  changed  because  of  them.When  I  was  First  adopted,  I  did  not  always  concen-­‐trate  on  school,  it  was  a  little  hard  to  pay  attention.    I  always  wondered  about  my  real  parents  and  I  wanted  to  know  who  my  father  was.    I  still  keep  in  touch  with  my  mother,  but  it  is  almost  like  I  can’t  relate  to  her  and  I  get  annoyed  with  her  easily.    Adoption  is  the  greatest  gift  of  love  that  I  think  anyone  can  experi-­‐ence.    If  I  have  the  chance  to  adopt  a  child,  I  deFinitely  

will  because  it  means  that  the  child  will  have  a  chance  at  liv-­‐ing,  a  chance  to  be  their  own  person  and  to  have  someone  who  can  take  care  of  them  all  of  the  time.    Adoption  saved  my  life.   To  me  adoption  has  come  to  many  different  things.    I  live  a  different  life.    It  means  unconditional  love  that  has  nothing  to  do  with  blood  relations.    It  means  that  I  am  a  part  of  a  family.    It  means  leaving  my  heart  open  and  accepting  the  things  that  may  damage  it,  but  knowing  things  will  work  out.    It  means  waking  up  every  morning  with  a  feeling  of  ap-­‐preciation.    Adoption  means  hope.    It  means  that  I  am  a  gift,  not  a  right.    It  means  that  being  with  my  par-­‐ents  is  more  precious  more  than  anything.    It  means  a  second  chance.    It  means  that  I  had  parents  who  taught  me  how  to  be  good.    I  was  blessed  with  par-­‐ents  who  allowed  contact  with  my  other  biological  family  members.    I  believe  that  contact  was  some-­‐thing  that  needed  to  happen.    My  biological  brother  was  blessed  by  being  adopted  by  another  family.    Given  my  mother’s  history  and  knowing  what  she  is  still  like  today,  I  think  adoption  was  a  good  decision,  instead  of  living  with  a  mother  who  is  an  alcoholic,  a  drug  addict,  and  someone  who  has  to  move  a  lot  and  who  hates  her  own  mother.    Being  adopted  has  made  me  realize  many  different  things.    Most  importantly,  never  take  something  for  granted.    It  is  a  gift  to  be  alive.    You  must  do  what  you  can  to  make  it  a  better  place  for  all.    I  believe  the  reason  I  am  alive  is  to  make  a  difference  in  the  world.    I  will  do  that  through  my  writings  and  my  poetry.    I  realized  this  through  trial  and  error.    I  learned  all  of  this  because  I  was  adopted  and  it  changed  my  life.    Adoption  was  my  second  chance  and  I  will  always  be  grateful.    

-­‐-­‐Anonymous

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Bleeding  Heart

Broken  pieces  lay  shattered  on  the  Floor,Just  waiting  for  the  next  person  to  pick  them  up,And  mend  my  broken  bleeding  heart.My  heart  gets  more  ruined  every  time  I  see  you,The  pieces  break  smaller  and  smaller,It’s  always  harder  to  Fix  next  time  then  the  last.One  day  it  will  be  beyond  repair,And  it  will  just  lay  there  bleeding  for  you,I  will  never  be  able  to  love  the  same  after  you.You  will  forever  be  in  my  battered  heart.

Support Me

The phone rings,My heart races until I hear the voice,Only time I feel safe is when you’re near.Across seas you wait, fighting, risking.The calls once a month, short and sweet,The months pass, clocks tick, nerves fray.Door opens, your voice echoes through the halls,Your arms tighten around meSafe and whole at last.

Stars

Bodies  Flat  against  the  grass,Blades  of  grass  poking  through  our  Fingers,Stars  above,  illuminating  the  darkness,Our  lives  intertwined,  and  so  are  our  bodies.Fingers  interlocking  with  yours,Constellations  connect  the  stars,Our  hearts  connect  us.Darkness  closes  in,  our  eyes  close,The  dreams  begin.

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KATELYN PARKINSONENGLISH EDUCATION ’17

A FRESHMAN WITH A POWERFUL VOICE

My name is Katelyn Parkinson, and I am a freshman here at Nichols College. I am studying English and Education. I went to a trade school for high school, there I studied Painting and Design. In high school I took part in the Douglas Band, participating in their color guard. I did color guard since I was in fifth grade and I still love it to this day. A lot of my inspiration came from doing color guard. Working hard and never giving up was something I always strived for. I am studying English because of the way it has evolved over the years, this evolution is its history, just like any person has their own unique history and story. I believe it is important to know the story behind everything and everyone before you judge it. I live in Douglas, MA and I went to high school at Blackstone Valley Regional Voca-tional Technical High School. It was there that I dis-covered that teaching was my passion because I like helping people. Being a girl scout since third grade has helped influence my want to help people.

RYAN FINNEGAN

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POETRY

MATTHEW POCHAL

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Imagine having no boundariesinstead of exhausting the soles of our feetwe elevate through the heavens

imagine instead of coming out the womb cryingbabies come out cracking lips openwith the sound of joy yes!I made it

the hard part is over

if I should have a daughterI will do everything I can to give her all the answersbut how am I supposed to explainwhy she can still feelhis touchlingering on her skinrattling her foundationtearing apart her DNAechoing the words“you know you want it”

Imaginefathers who sip spirits stop beating their daughtersthose who bathed in bacteria cherishing the minerals of their waters

I wonder what would happen if bullying didn’t existwould women I lovestill wanna cut their wrists?I wonder what goes on in the mind of a murdererI want to tell the judge he didn’t mean to hurt her

Imagine white boy kicked out the house and left in the streetsno family, no friends, and uses cardboard for sheetsImagineblack women, on the face of all magazine coversfor in reality her beauty is always above all others

Imagine these shootings one day will endcause these bullets aren’t the only messages these guns sendI wonder will the poor ever get out of povertyso they don’t have to spend their life savings trying to win the lottery

Imagine how free we can get if we learn to throw kissesinstead of grenadesinvent drones that drop dinner with a cup of lemonade

Imagine no tomorrowsor yesterdaysjust now and this momentwith no promise of another chancewould we perfect every choice?

uplift every voice

cause if we bypass the doorit’s just a wallstopped between two other wallsbetween the coreouter coredirt, foundation1st floor, 2nd floorceiling, attic, roof, air, clouds, sky, gravity

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IMAGINE A FUTURE...RYAN FINNEGAN

A COLLABORATIVE POEM WRITTEN BY THE NICHOLS COLLEGE POETRY CLUB

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the universe stopped

over your head is the sun and under soles is the moonwe are all in between gradually making our tomb to grow each grain

each second is for you to show

this is the yearI stop choking my full potentialstop holding back in fear of becoming the man who bleeds half the blood that flows through my veinsbecause I love

and part of him pumps through my heart and reflects in the actions following every breath I take

imagine a futurewhere old ladies tap the tree of lifefor juices of wisdom to feed the kingdomled not by kingsbut by peace and children

imagine a future where…BREAKING NEWS:

First Women US President ends War in the Middle East

THIS JUST IN:

Rap music inspires police to make changes

EXTRA EXTRA:

American defense budget turned toward education

BREAKING NEWS:

Over counters cancer cures available for free in all corner stores

THIS JUST IN:

Religion is dead, relationships are our new savior

EXTRA EXTRA:

Children discover cure for adulthood

BREAKING NEWS:

African banks are now backed by national resources

THIS JUST IN:

The world becomes Pangea again

EXTRA EXTRA:

One seed feeds an entire community

BREAKING NEWS:

Last hungry man fed.

Imagine how free we can getif we carefully place each seed in the groundListening closely to hear their sound growing

We are going into the futurewe are glowingour streams are flowingour seeds are poking out of the dirtand showingthese cells aren’t frozenwhen upfront we are outspokenlove from mother earthrehearsedand chosen

Collaborated by: Nichols College Poetry Club

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Beautiful  Angels  who  can  Finally  spread  their  wings.Hearing  your  voice  when  the  birds  sing  every  morning.  Wishing  I  could’ve  known  you,  just  so  I  could’ve  help  show  you  what  you  could’ve  grown  to.  But  I  understand  how  it  feels  to  be  hated  over  the  phone  and  in  your  home  to.Karen  and  Katie  if  only  you  knew  you  weren’t  alone  to.  

Beautiful  angels  who  only  had  grey  skies.Laying  in  your  bed  crying  asking  god  why  He  refused  your  request  to  be  guidedBeautiful  angels  who  decided  their  lives  would  be  better  if  they  died.

Wish  I  could’ve  been  the  star  of  your  presenceWhy  does  this  depression  show  so  much  aggressionTowards  our  adolescence,  who  won’t  be  around  The  Christmas  tree  when  its  time  to  open  presents.  Why  does  bulimia  and  suicide  have  to  exist?  No  beautiful  angel  like  you  should  wanna  cut  their  wrist.  I  just  wish  I  could’ve  taken  you  somewhere  on  your  bucket  list.  Not  see  your  self-­‐esteem  get  hit  with  these  negative  Fists.   Beautiful  angels  looking  down  on  me  just  know  I’m  looking  up  at  you  to  tell  you  you’ll  be  missed.

Promise  I’ll  stand  up  for  mental  sicknessGet  the  attention  to  the  people  who  refused  to  be  a  witness.

Beautiful  angels  taken  by  this  disease  Spreading  poison  to  the  roots  of  our  trees.So  these  seeds  are  born  into  this  bitter  breeze.Beautiful  souls  of  our  angels  taken  before  they  receive  their  degrees.

So  please  can  we  keep  the  peace,  And  lift    all  these  people  off  their  knees.Share  the  last  piece  of  hopeWith  the  people  star  gazing  in  need  of  a  telescope  

Please  give  a  moment  of  peace  to  these  teensWhose  lives  were  taken  before  they  could  pursue  their  dreams.Depression  destroying  families  so  neighborhoods  Fill  up  with  screams.So  our  beautiful  angels  feel  like  15  and  18  is  the  time  to  spread  their  wings.As  hard  as  it  seems  it’s  taken  two  weeks  to  take  two  beautiful  teens.

Beautiful  angels  why  couldn’t  I  save  youWish  I  could’ve  given  you  everything  your  life  never  gave  you.Why  couldn’t  I  be  the  guy  you  could’ve  came  to?Who  knows  maybe  I  would’ve  changed  you.Hated  the  way  this  depression  kept  you  chained,  too.Wish  I  could’ve  sat  you  down  and  let  you  know  I  feel  the  same  too.Let  you  know  that  your  smile  makes  the  sun  shine  when  it  rains  too.

I  promise  by  the  end  of  this  poem  everyone  Will  know  what  it  feels  like  to  take  a  walk  in  your  shoes.Even  though  this  isn’t  the  direction  we  wished  you’d  choose.Just  know  you’re  beautiful  angels  who  speak  to  our  youth.

I wrote this poem because this past October the city of Newton, Mass had two High school girls take their lives in back to back weeks. Not only was one of the girls from my old high school, but also a couple of my friends knew the two girls who had passed. So when I heard this news I decided I would write this poem not only as a way to remember these two girls who had passed. But as a way for me to reach out to any high school girl or any girl at all who has dealt with depression or an eating disorder or any mental illness at all. I wrote this poem in hopes of making a change in our society and trying to end these teen suicides in our country, one life at a time. I really loved writing this poem because it is something I don’t usually write about, but I wanted this poem to be heard as much as possible so people can start making a difference. 23

BEAUTIFUL ANGEL

IAN SOTOLOFF ’16

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Know  that  your  spirit  will  carry  on  throughout  the  country  like  a  Taylor  Swift  song.  They  say  heros  fade,  but  I  can  tell  you  were  a  leg-­‐end  Even  though  you  couldn’t  have  the  chance  to  live  long.Just  know  that  what  you  had  going  on  wasn’t  wrong  

Even  though  you  never  saw  the  light.Just  know  that  I’m  not  going  to  sleep  until  I  make  it  right.  Beautiful  Angels  know  I’m  talking  to  them  In  the  day  and  the  night.Beautiful  angels  fulFilling  my  lifeAs  we  sing  everything’s  Gonna  be  alright.  

Such  a  tragedy  you  can’t  live  life  twiceBeautiful  angels  prohibited  from  becoming  wivesWishin  the  lives  we  live  weren’t  such  a  crisisDoes  anyone  out  there  know  why  it’s  like  this?

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Page 26: Windfall (Fall Issue) 2013

As my eyes settle on your form, I let tears flow freely.

My heart aches,

Burns,

With pain and sadness.

I watch the blood fall from your wrists.

I watch the pool of red on the floor grow big-ger.

I watch your head turn slowly,

My heart stops.

Foggy, near lifeless eyes see me.

Your lips move,

Voice just loud enough to hear,

"I never wanted this,

I didn't mean to cut so deep.

Please.

Save me."

I try so hard to do so,

I bandage your wounds and lovingly caress your body.

My tears,

They drip from my cheeks and

Dampen your skin.

"I love you,"

I repeat it with all my might,

All my heart,

All my soul.

"I love you,

Please,

Don't leave me..." -- Hayley Eldridge

WATCHING

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WATCHING

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Some people think I am just a conservative nut,Some people think I am just a pain in the butt.Some people think of me as that ginger guy,However very few people stop to say hi.Some people think I am all about money,Some people think I am all about being funny.Some people think of me as just a nice guy,However very few people stop to say hi.The amount of people that know the true me,Equals the number of boats that sailed across the sea,To discover this world, to prove it wasn’t flat,Ya’ll remember your history, did you get that?However, nobody here knows what I have gone through,Not my best friends here, not my friends at home too.Or should I say friend at home, singular, not plural,From K-12 I had as many friends as sides of a circle.That’s ok though, I have moved on since then,I made a lot of friends, starting first in the Bison’s Den.Now I feel welcomed on campus, not shunned like before,

I spend less time at home than I do in Kupp 304.Still remains the problem that most people don’t know me,They spend their time instead figuring out how to change me,Why they don’t just take the time to talk to me,This is a question that is completely beyond me.I am commonly asked why I don’t drink booze,Well half of my family is drunks and it’s something I choose.I don’t want to be part of the life; it’s in my blood,But still people insist and try to pressure me into having a bud.If people start to stress they start smoking Mary J,There’s nothing wrong with that, it’s not my business to judge today,Or any day, for that matter, it’s just not for me,I’ve seen what it could do in a blunt and a brownie.I don’t drink coffee either, because it’s addicting as hell,People need it in the morning to answer the bell.I don’t want to be dependent on anything, especially a drink,

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TRUE SELF

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However, I will admit I require sunscreen so I don’t turn pink.And as far as me being a extreme right-wing nut,All just because I’m in favor of tax cuts.We elect people into power to make our choices for us,I give people choices, I don’t drive the bus.The next thing is something that I hate the most,People judging me by my looks, my hair, or the fact I’m a ghost.If my skin is too white for you, but you say I’m perfect inside,At first I believed you but now I know that you lied.If I was to be your man, if I make you laugh and smile,Then why does the color of my skin hold you back that extra mile.From friendship to companionship to relationship,But all you really want is excuses to give.If you are unhappy, that is your fault not mine,You had me as an option, but I’m not bitter, it’s fine.You judged me on something that I cannot control,Realistically, if that holds you back, we shouldn’t break our mold.I’ll still remain your friend; I don’t judge people for what they think,

Or how they talk, how they act, or how much they drink.I’m a relationship man, that’s right man; I’m not a boy,Because what you really want is a boy to be your sex toy.I’m the guy that’s different, always has been, always will be,And even though I could be the one guy that holds the answer key.People judge me just because I’m not like them,Half the people I know wouldn’t expect me to write this gem.All based upon my appearance, beliefs, or actions.Just like in a car, our connection is missing its traction.Now you have two choices, the first like before,Either keep driving away, or pull over, I’ll open my door.But don’t judge me without taking that chance,To talk to me first or ask me to dance.I’m not saying I’m good or bad or right or wrong,What I am saying is I’m the man that will last the whole song. -Mark Pover

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PHOTO CREDIT TO: CHRISTINA BARROWS

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The answer is yes. Major in English. Minor in Eng-lish. Do something that has to do with broaden-ing your horizons in the world of reading, writing, imagination, and contemplation. You can utilize these skills beyond the classroom, despite what you may have been told. Writing and communica-tion skills go a long way in almost every field I can think of, except maybe if you were to be a mime (although the drama classes may come in handy here). The “people skills” you learn with an English degree will take you anywhere. You learn persuasion, negotiation, mentoring, super-vising, instruction… these are desirable skills when hiring a new employee.

All too often we English majors hear this ques-tion, after admitting our degree goal: “Oh, you want to be a teacher?” We answer, and if the an-swer is no, the next that comes? [Insert odd and uncomfortable look here] “So…what are you go-ing to do, then?” Well, person asking who gener-ally has no idea what an English degree entails, I am going to do lots of things. I can enter the busi-ness field if I so desire, the service or hospitality world, or the world of retail. I can go to grad school. I can go to law school. I could even start my own business, or…yes…teach. The answer is that I have foundation skills that far too many oth-ers are lacking these days.

The thing is, when people view Nichols College the Liberal Arts division is barely seen, never mind the English department. And that is an out-right shame, because the English department

here is unbelievably incredible. The professors generally come from high-ranking universities and colleges, and are genuine human beings who care about their students. The small class-rooms and individual attention open opportuni-ties one might not get in a larger pool of candi-dates.

You don’t have to major in English (although you should). You can minor. You should absolutely and positively make the choice to minor in Eng-lish. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain by doing so, as pointed out in the first para-graph by the list of “people skills” obtained. If you are an International Business major with an English minor, this showcases your ability to com-municate, understand, and negotiate with others. That’s impressive. Same for any other major com-bined with an English minor. Just do it. It’s impor-tant stuff.

TO BE OR NOT TO BE...AN ENGLISH MAJOR/MINOR AT NICHOLS COLLEGE

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Besides all of these excellent points, English is fun. How can you not love reading? There are all different things to read, you know! And writing is one of the best releases from a day of frustration. The theater, film, poetry, music -- all of these things have to do with the English language. Dive in. See for yourself.

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NICHOLS COLLEGE BOOKSTORE

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!

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DIVERGENT & CATCHING FIRE

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!

BOOKS

     

Catching  Fire,  continues  the  journey  of  Katniss  Everdeen  after  winning  the  74th  Annual  Hunger  Games.  With  the  countries  people  beginning  to  rebel  against  the  Capitol,  Collins  brilliantly  puts  together  a  new  plot  with  a  new  twist  to  the  overall  series.  Catching  Fire  is  the  second  installment  of  the  Hunger  Games  

Trilogy.  Collins  shows  Katniss  and  Peeta  on  their  journey  along  the  Victory  Tour.  Throughout  the  Victory  Tour,  signs  of  rebellion  begin  sparking  and  ultimately  lead  Katniss  to  re-­‐enter  the  arena  once  more  for  the  75th  Quarter  Quell.  Collin’s  masterpiece  has  you  reading  through  the  night,  continuing  with  clifHhangers  at  the  end  of  each  chapter.  Even  when  it  is  2  o’clock  in  the  morning,  you  will  Hind  it  hard  to  put  down  the  book  and  go  to  bed.  

Catching  Fire  By  Suzanne  Collins

MATTHEW POCHAL

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DivergentBy  Veronica  Roth      

     In  a  future  dystopian  soci-­‐ety,  author  Veronica  Roth  shows  the  life  of  teenager  Beatrice  Prior  in  her  fac-­‐tion  of  Abnegation.  In  Divergent,  teenagers  must  choose  to  either  leave  their  own  faction  or  stay  in  it.  The  Hive  factions  include:  Amity,  Abnegation,  Erudite,  Daunt-­‐less,  and  Candor.  When  Beatrice  leaves  Abnegation  for  a  new  life  in  Dauntless,  she  is  forced  to  hide  that  she  doesn’t  belong  to  any  faction  and  that  she  is  Divergent.  Bea-­‐trice,  who  later  changes  her  name  to  Tris,  must  hide  herself  and  try  to  Hit  

in  the  best  she  can  with  her  new  home.  In  the  Hirst  installment  of  this  trilogy,  Roth  shows  the  trials  and  challenges  that  teens  face  when  choosing  their  factions.  Roth  brings  this  brilliant  book  a  new  idea  and  gives  readers  a  chance  to  imagine  what  faction  they  will  be  in.    The  book  will  hit  theaters  March  of  2014,  bringing  new  ideas  and  interpretations  of  the  story  to  the  big  screen.  Divergent  is  a  book  that  is  hard  to  put  down  and  gives  you  the  possibly  to  look  into  the  future.  

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JAMEIL ALI

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CASEY FRANK

CASEY FRANK

CHRISTINA BARROWS

JULIANA CECERA

JULIANA CECERA

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CASEY FRANK

MATTHEW POCHAL

RYAN FINNEGAN

RYAN FINNEGAN

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MATTHEW POCHAL

RYAN FINNEGAN

RYAN FINNEGAN

RYAN FINNEGAN

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Sunday-- Wednesday10am-11pm

Thursday-- Saturday10am-12am