JBHS Mantra

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Only the Beginning- Part I

by Nuor Shatila

         Amira walked into school expecting it to be a normal day. Amira is the only Muslim that attends her high school. Everyday she is picked on by her classmates with their “terrorist” jokes. In her marine biology class, there was this group of students that would constantly comment on her faith in a negative way. They would either say it directly to her or simply speak loudly enough for her to hear them. There was this one guy in particular within the group that never said anything to her or spoke of the matter. Instead he remained silent through the semester. Amira could never figure out why these classmates were so mean to her. Still, Amira never spoke against them and always remained silent. She preferred to keep the conflict small and not create a big problem. She endured the jokes and comments.

            Amira attended her local Muslim youth group every Sunday. Here she was able to express herself and connect with her community. One Sunday afternoon, the youth group program was about bullying in school. It was an activity where each person would write something that bothered them on a piece of paper. Then they would take that piece of paper, slip it into a balloon, and then blow it up with the paper inside. Amira wrote in her balloon, “Being called a terrorist everyday at school.” Everyone placed their balloons and thoughts in the center of the room. Each person had to pick another one up, pop that balloon, and read the thought. This allowed everyone to see the different struggles that the people in that room were facing, not only as Muslims, but as teenagers. Amira popped her balloon and the note inside read, “Loosing faith in myself.” This note touched Amira because it never occurred to her that someone would feel this way. After a moment passed for everyone to read their notes, anyone who wanted to share and give advice had the opportunity to do so. There were many interesting struggles with valuable responses. Then one guy volunteered and read, “Being called a terrorist everyday at school.” His advice was, “I feel like there are a lot of us going through this struggle. When we publicly tell others that we are Muslim, it is so they understand us better and know that how we are represented in the media is all false. What I would say to everyone facing this problem is to be strong. Don’t let them continue believing the lies on television. Don’t remain silent and let them say this false name to Muslims. We all need to be strong and learn to be leaders that represent our faith. Our classmates may not meet another Muslim other than us. As a minority in school, we must stand strong. For this person going through this dilemma every day, I say that you must take a stand and try to educate these people in the best way. If nothing is said, then there would never be a change.” Amira knew this message was directed to her. She absorbed each word and began to think of his words. She came to her decision that the next time this group of teens accused her of “terrorism,” even in their joking manner, she would speak against them…

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The Sun Shines Through

The sky turns grey

As the sun slips behind clouds

Lovers hold each other

The sun gleams like a candle burning

A gust of wind blows

The smell of fresh salt water

Slides by your face

 

Standing in the wet sand

Your feet tingle with a warm sensation

The waves rush in, one after another

Like runers finishing their big race

It is as calm as heaven

The palm trees sway

Back and forth as if dancing

 

Another day is gone

As the sun sets

Welcoming the night

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A Lost Cause

A Lost Cause 


Our nation is a lost cause 

And 

Our society is not fixable 

I won’t believe the people that say that 

I can change society. 

I tell myself 

“Get some time in front of the television!” 

Idiots tell me 

That I should make a change in the way I live. 

But instead I remind myself 

I want to give up. 

It is foolish to say that 

I want an improvement in society.

(Now read this in reverse)

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Kicking Off My Heels

‘Tis hard to believe the joy that one feels

Like a preening pea hen strutting her stuff

In a pair of sassy stiletto heels

And no quivering boy dare call your bluff.

But with eyes on you like a peacock’s tail,

The slanderous whispers of jealous girls,

Doubts come into my head that I may fail

My confidence breaks like a string of pearls.

And now those thin heels which gave me such pride

And brought me all the desired attention,

Cause me to loose my balance and slip and slide

Making me rue this silly invention.

So when I get home I kick off my heels

I can’t believe how amazing it feels.

—Serena Prather ‘15

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Hunter’s Regret

Blood, the river of life,

Stolen from what’s pure.

Ashamed in his own strife,

Something he can’t cure.

Sinking in the Lord’s grief,

A pawn in the Devil’s war,

Happiness is always so brief

And love is such a chore.

Where has the gold gone?

Hidden in desire for sin?

Greed killed the dear fawn,

Beautiful creature, what could’ve been.

-Marja Ziemer , Mrs. Weiner’s English 9H class

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A Lost Cause

Joseph Molinari

Mrs. Carman - 5

English 9 (H)

24 February 2012

  A Lost Cause 


Our nation is a lost cause 

And 

Our society is not fixable 

I won’t believe the people that say that 

I can change society. 

I tell myself 

“Get some time in front of the television!” 

Idiots tell me 

That I should make a change in the way I live. 

But instead I remind myself 

I want to give up. 

It is foolish to say that 

I want an improvement in society.

(Now read this in reverse)

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A Passing Season

A whisper of cool air brings news of fall.

Leaves change into their dresses, gold, red.

Birds expand their wings for a warmer hall,

Looking at the prospect of rain with dread.

Delicious scents hang in the cold, fresh air.

In the chimney, crimson blazing flames.

Freezing children, thawed and warmed with care;

Toasting bread and marshmallows take their claims.

Clouds of cotton move across the sky;

Spilling their water for the parched ground.

Soft emerald glass like a carpet, shy

Rabbits eat the carpet without a sound.

Alas, the season of fall has now come

But my favorite seas’n, summer, now gone!

—Tamara Farhat