Student’s Writings

The Cadaver Synod – Danny Buck

The students were tasked to enter one of three doors, marked YESTERDAY, TODAY, or TOMORROW.

YESTERDAY would allow them to experience any historical event, but not change the outcome. TODAY would place them in the middle of any current event. And TOMORROW would take them forward 12 years to celebrate what would then be Mr. Tom’s 80^th Birthday.

DANNY takes us into the bizarre 9^th Century papal synod of a cadaver.

The Cadaver Synod

I’m walking down a long, paved road in the countryside, where each house and patch of land is so very separate from another. I go off to a trail, where the trees are marked with crimson stripes of paint, and I arrive at a cave with distinct graffiti on it. I walk into the cave, compelled by boredom. Surrounded by darkness, I use my phone as a flashlight.

After a certain point of depth into this cave, I see architecture and artifacts of which I’ve never seen before. I find artifacts of great technology, almost as If crafted by gods. Things that I cannot begin to comprehend are scattered throughout. I arrive at a room with three doors, all of which have symbols over top of them. Not knowing what each of these doors represent, I reluctantly search the cave for some sort of hint or translation for the symbols. I find 3 tablets, one of which is broken, but the two are in a language I’ve never seen before. From then I connect the dots that this language is very similar to Cuneiform, and I spend several hours trying to connect the dots from experience as an archaeologist.

One stone roughly translates to before, which I assumed meant past, and one translates literally into the word current. The final tablet based on the previous two I assumed translated to the future, but that information was useless considering it was broken. Returning to the room with two of the tablets, and with as many pieces I could find of the broken one, some ancient technology beams from the tablets which illuminate the walls. There were carvings on the walls very reminiscent of religious figures, and in their “divine” nature, appear to perform miracles with these ancient artifacts. I plug in the tablets to their rightful place, and I make up my mind to go into the door representing yesterday. I thought about experiencing the present, but I decided that I would rather observe things as they once were than to be directly influencing the world of today.

I head into this door and arrive in the Basilica of St. John Lateran. It seems as if there’s a trial going on in this room, but the person being tried is a decomposed corpse. I look over and see Pope Stephen 6th insulting and hollering at the corpse dressed in Pope robes, and I realize exactly what’s going on from reading about it in modern day. This is the Cadaver Synod, and the corpse being tried is Pope Formosus.

Pope Formosus was being accused of perjury for holding two bishops against canon law, and becoming pope illegally. In all of its hilarity, during the trial there was a deacon crouched behind the corpse of Formosus answering the questions on his behalf. I try to hold in my laughter while Pope Stephen screams at Formosus in Latin while I hide within the crowd. Pope Formosus was found guilty (who would’ve guessed) and three fingers from his right hand which he used for blessings were cut off. His corpse was thrown into the River Tiber, only to be retrieved days later by a monk.

I enjoyed my time in Rome for a couple of days, hoping not to be executed like a certain man 897 years before this incident, when I see a mob go past me in the direction of the Basilica. I follow the mob, knowing what will happen next, but trying not to be too involved as to be harmed by this mass of people.  Pope Stephen was dragged from the Basilica into prison by the angry mob after a rumor was started that Pope Formosus’ corpse was performing miracles. Pope Stephen was executed by strangulation in August of that year.

I go to sleep smiling in the bed of an absentee Roman soldier. I accept the fact that I’ll likely never return to the present, or do so willingly because this time period is way too hilarious.

Danny Buck

12/2/22

Homeless for Thanksgiving – Hector Rivas

Hector takes his blessings for granted, until an all-too-real dream of being homeless, cold and hungry makes him appreciate what he has.

Homeless for Thanksgiving

I went to bed after arguing with my mom about why the food was not ready. I woke up, lying on the ground somewhere in downtown Baltimore, with a blanket covering me in the freezing cold, my stomach empty and growling.

I was so confused about what had happened. I was just in my room a second ago, comfortable, and warm.

The cold became so unbearable, and my hunger got so bad that I could not sleep at all the whole night. As the sun came up the next morning, I had no money so I had to start asking for anything so that I could get food. I asked many people; some were kind and others were rude and told me to get a job. At the end of the day, I had enough money to get myself a McChicken from McDonald’s and that was the best tasting meal ever. But I regretted arguing with my mom over how
the food was not ready, and I missed all of the things that I had. I took so many things for granted—my bed, my room, a warm shower, having somewhere to stay and call home.

As night came, I tried to find somewhere to sleep. I found a place and laid down. I tried to go to sleep wishing that I could return to how things used to be.

When I woke back up, I was in my bed and my warm house. I felt so happy to be back home. I took a warm shower and went downstairs and got
something to eat, relieved that I was back in my house and not outside in the cold.

After that night I never took anything for granted ever again. I started to think about how hard other people have it and that their situation is way worse than mine. Now, anytime I see a person on the street asking for money, I try to give them a dollar or something that can help them out.

I learned my lesson to not take anything in my life for granted and appreciate what I have.
Hector Rivas
November 18, 2022

Homeless for Thanksgiving – Bre’Onna Clowney

Bre reminds us that family is what makes life complete. “Without them, every day I would be homeless.”

Homeless for Thanksgiving

Many have a different definition of what “homeless” means. Some feel like being homeless means not having a home. Some feel like being homeless is not having a place to stay and rest. Personally, I believe being homeless means not having a family.

You may think it’s odd, but when I’m not with people I call family, I feel out of place, like I don’t belong.

Family is the key to a home. When I go home, the first thing I see is my cat, but I call her my daughter. She stays in the basement, but once she hears the keys touching the door, she runs so fast upstairs to greet whoever is opening it. Greeting them with a loving nose rub and purring, even if she doesn’t know you. One day, if I were to open the door, and she wasn’t there, it simply wouldn’t feel like home.

Running behind me is my little brother, who’s an Ipad kid. Watching YouTube loudly, purposely trying to annoy me, but I’m used to it. Once he puts the Ipad down, he asks for a snack, and I always have to confirm if he can have it, with my mother who was following behind him as he ran into the house. Once I confirm, he eats the snack while again playing his loud video on his Ipad, laughing and teasing me to try and annoy me. I can’t imagine a day where I go
to open the door and not have him following me, laughing and playing around. The silence and incompleteness I would feel if he just wasn’t there.

As my mom is getting prepared to make dinner for the family, I think of how things would be if she wasn’t home. Once again, without my family I would feel incomplete. No noise, no conversation, no love. No concern from the cat, wondering if we arrived home. No noise from my little brother’s loud Ipad or him teasing me because he got a snack and I didn’t. No conversation, from my mother asking for help with dinner. No love, because if family
isn’t there, I don’t feel it.

Family pulls everything together in my book and makes life complete. Without them, my life would be silent, and every day I would be homeless.

Bre’Onna Clowney
November 18, 2022

Believing In Yourself – Rhys Guilfoyle

Rhys manages to tell his story with an eclectic array of touchstones, from “The Little Engine That Could” to Arnold Schwarzenegger to NBA YoungBoy and even Liz Truss.

BELIEVING IN YOURSELF

I believe everyone grew up with a favorite cartoon or tv show. One of my favorites was Thomas the Tank Engine. He always believed he can, he can, he can. I always believed I can’t, I can’t, I can’t. Anything that was remotely challenging in my life, I would just give up.

One day, I was hanging out with my dad and he asked me to move some furniture. I don’t know why he asked a ten-year old whose arms were weaker than Liz Truss’s financial plan to move furniture. I accepted anyway, and we began to move the end table next to our couch and it was easy. It gave me a little confidence boost. We got onto this piano in the dining room and, thankfully, it had some wheels, so we were good. The last thing was the shelf that stored all my dad’s records. Every shelf was stocked with records. I had to get every single one off the shelf and then move the shelf with him. Who does my dad think I am: Arnold Schwarzenegger? The Rock? I thought we could do it because we moved those other things with ease. But no matter how hard we tried, that thing wouldn’t move an inch. Who knew that IKEA furniture was so heavy? Every time we got IKEA furniture, the thing would collapse like the American economy during the Great Depression. My dad managed to move it a little bit, but I was struggling. He was telling me to try my best, and I tried but it didn’t move. All my confidence was erased. That was why I never tried or believed in myself. I would always think the worst and never get disappointed when it happened.

Everybody struggles with math at some point of their life. If you don’t, you’re probably an alien like NBA Youngboy. Geometry ain’t my strong suit. It makes me wanna rip my hair out. The shapes, the rules, and the math confuse me too much. Mr. Tom noticed my frustration and asked me if I wanted some help. I said yes, and I walked over. As I was trying to explain what my frustrations were, I realized all of it pointed to me not even trying to do it.

Mr. Tom just told me to go back to my seat and try again. I finished the problem and walked over to Donald and handed him my notebook, expecting the big X for wrong.  I didn’t even watch him cross it out, I just looked the other way.

All I heard was Donald’s green pen moving in a circular motion and I heard a checkmark get drawn across the whole page. I did it!

I waltzed my way over to Mr. Tom and showed him. He said great and told me to finish the section. I was so happy that I wasn’t disappointed. It was a feeling I never felt before.

All those times where I failed and never tried again, just for it to be solved with a checkmark, was kinda stupid. Now that I think about it, if a green check mark fixed it, it could’ve been fixed years ago.

Rhys Guilfoyle

10/21/22

Believing In Yourself – Kendall Curtis

Kendall takes us back to the bad old days of COVID and her mom’s clever ploy to help Kendall successfully pass the 6^th Grade, her “hardest school year ever.”

BELIEVING IN YOURSELF

The 6th grade was the hardest school year ever. The beginning of that school year I started out strong, but it didn’t last. I was suspended. That was bad, but low and behold, I was about to be in for a really rude awakening.

One Thursday in March, everyone was sent home for the next two years. I was suspended already so I couldn’t even empty my locker or get my work or even say goodbye. I just had to deal with it.

Most days during virtual learning I was either asleep or just didn’t sign on. In the beginning, the teachers would call my mom every day, but after a while no one was showing up to class, not even the teachers sometimes. On top of that, a majority of the days I was home alone, which meant why should I even sign on? Who’s going to know if  I do or don’t? So I didn’t. This became a constant cycle for me. If I didn’t go to class, I couldn’t do my work. If the work is not done, it wouldn’t get done.

End of the year rolled around and I got an email stating that if you have three failing grades, you fail. My heart sank. All of my grades were failing.

I looked at my missing assignments and something just clicked in my head. I ended up doing 10 assignments a day. Yeah, I cheated but everybody was. I ended up pulling E’s up to C’s and B’s.

I always knew I could do it, but I didn’t believe in myself. Well, that, and I was lazy.

I showed my mom my grades and she laughed. Come to find out the email was from her! Moral of the story, stay ready and you won’t have to get ready.

Kendall Curtis
10/21/22

My Town – Danny Buck

The students recently attended the current Center Stage production of the iconic play, “Our Town.” Their subsequent Creative Writing topic: “My Town” wherein “their town” might be a city, a neighborhood, a room, or a state of mind. Here is Danny’s thoughtful essay.

MY TOWN

My town is my room. I don’t really do things outside like most kids in my age range. Because of this, I don’t know any streets or any people in my neighborhood. My room suffices as a town in my opinion. It’s where I do everything I like. It’s where I read Manga, where I look into philosophy, where I eat, where I sleep, and where I watch videos. It’s ironic in a way. Because of social media, people’s “worlds” have become smaller. They have access to limitless communication and knowledge of the world at the touch of a button. In some ways, this is negative. I am no different.

My town isn’t special. Like many other “towns,” it has a bed, television, a
dresser and closet to store your clothes, and a gaming console if you’re interested in that. On my window sill, I have many books. On my dresser I have miscellaneous items like a blacklight, usually my keys, and a spare charger. I have cards for various events and celebrations, mostly from past birthdays, but some from graduations. On my TV stand there are many video games that I don’t play very often, and my town has windows that I rarely ever look out of during the day. I only ever look out of my window at night, I like to watch the few celestial bodies that I can still see despite the amount of light pollution in the city. Every so often the moon is interesting enough for me to look at for a long time, and I like to imagine I live there.

My town extends from my room to the moon—a place where you can look down
and observe the whole world. It’s only me up there in the cold silence with an all-encompassing vision, yet not sharp enough to see each individual person that passes by. Being alone personified, yet not feeling lonely. This describes a portion of the condition my age group is in today, but I experience it in a different way.

I like to think, when I’m up there mentally, that I am truly able to wonder and observe all things I’m curious about. Reading, watching, observing every topic I feel interested in at that moment but still not able to connect to anybody daily other than things like school.

The moon for centuries was a time piece, with every phase constantly changing throughout the month, and with its shining brilliance people also used it to describe change. I change mentally and philosophically in my room, but socially I’ve never changed.

One of my favorite paintings of all time ‘Son of Man’ is a painting about your changing visibility in the presence of what is known, and the changing visibility of what is there to truly see. Rene Magritte painted it as a self-portrait,
but I like to think, just like him, I similarly have the apple over my face both in a social lens and in all aspects of knowledge. My goal is to learn more and to enjoy life through that by being a greater person. This also applies to another one of Magritte’s paintings.

‘The False mirror’ is a painting that describes the limitations of human vision, the reflection of the sky similar to the way I observe the moon. The
eye, removed from its place in the skull and with no face to orient it, shows to some extent a lack of knowledge about the self. A separation from the conscious
and unconscious mind. So it is with my room. A constant process of translation between the conscious and unconscious takes place in my room. It is where I learn more about myself.

My room is my home. The moon is my home. They are my town.

Danny Buck

9/30/22