Latin School Register

2007·19.6 MB·English

by  Boston Latin School

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TTTHHHEEE
Winter 2007
Volume CXXVII, Number 1
RREEGGIISSTTEERR
Boston Latin School
78 Avenue Louis Pasteur
Boston, Massachusetts 02115
TTThhheee RRReeegggiiisssttteeerrr iiss ppuubblliisshheedd ttwwiiccee aa yyeeaarr bbyy ssttuuddeennttss ooff BBoossttoonn LLaattiinn SScchhooooll.. SSttuuddeennttss iinn
classes I through VI are invited to submit their original writing and artwork. Pieces are
selected by the Editorial Board of TTThhheee RRReeegggiiisssttteeerrr oonn tthhee bbaassiiss ooff qquuaalliittyy,, nnoott nnaammee rreeccooggnniittiioonn;;
the writers of all pieces remain anonymous to the Editorial Board during the selection process
to ensure that no one is given an unfair advantage.
The Register
WWWiiinnnttteeerrr 222000000777
Editors-in-Chief
Maya Stroshane Linda Zheng
Editorial Board
Design & Layout Staff
Phuong Bui Jennifer Ho Andy Vo
Lisa Wang Pauline Chin
Patricia Cahill Lili Kocsis
Aurora Baker Kevin Hoang
Kimmi Vo Jessica Chan Ada Lin
Lily Zhao
Gregory Wong Eva Cheung
AAAAlllleeeecccc MMMMaaaauuuurrrréééé MMMMaaaatttttttthhhheeeewwww YYYYeeeeeeee FFFFiiiirrrrmmmmaaaa FFFFrrrraaaannnncccciiiissssqqqquuuueeee
Lidiya Petrova Amy Zeng
Design & Layout
Editors
AAAssssssoooccciiiaaattteee EEEdddiiitttooorrrsss
Elizabeth Eddy
Natalie Moran
Hui Feng Jieyu Jiang
Jessica Pan Roisin Foley
Geri Medina Business Managers
General Staff
Fei Jong Ka Shun Li
Winnie Chen Anna Tran
Khue Nguyen
Tatiana Joyce Ping Zeng
Punan Zhou Xi Zhang
Business Staff
Advisors
Art Editors Ian Dyer-Bennem Elizabeth Jaeger
Sydney Ruiz
Nancy O’Malley
Jenee Palmer
Janet Calceterra Helen Lu
Assistant Art Editors
Special Thanks To
Chenglin Yuan Lisa Tran
Carlos Byron Steve Harris
Art Staff
Catherine Meany Susan Moran
John Pow, BLS 51’
Stephanie Chan Steven Sy
Jin Zhao Wong Huong Pham John Pow Company, Lithographers
49-51D Street P.O. Box 256
South Boston, MA 02127
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aabbllee ooff oonntteennttss
4 Vermont Hannah Ri , III
66 AA GGllooww iinn tthhee CCiittyy SSttaacceyey LLeeoonnaarrdd,, IIII
8 Donut Tears Roisin Foley , II
10 Auto-Cannibalism Andy Vo, V
11 Men’s Room Sign Al Maure, I
12 Marr iage License Maya Stroshane, I
14 One-Man Cult of Plain Anonymous
15 Deliverance Aoife O’Flaherty, IV
1166 ThTh ee LLaammbb’’ss PPlleeaa ttoo
Th em Bot h Jane Newbold, I
18 Six Strings of P ion Maria Wei man, III
20 Waiting for D ember Dianna Willard, III
22 Dust Rhea Kroutil, II
2244 WWhhaatt CCoolloorr?? BBeevveerrllyy NNgguuyyeenn,, VV
26 Barbie Doll Marge Piercy
2277 AAftft eerr tthhee RRaaiinn KKaatthhrryynn RRotot hh,, II
29 Th e Negro and Uncle Sam Tayla Holman, II
3311 SSiiggnnss CCaamm DDuunngg LLee,, IIII
32 Th e Fisher Lily Burger, V
3333 TTiiddeell LLiissaa WWaanngg,, IIVV
35 Dr Up Roisin Foley , II
36 Renoir’s Th e Umbrella Anna La, II
38 P ing Th ought Anonymous
39 Sonn I Kathryn Rot h, I
41 Never Knew Lisa Wang, IV
THE REGISTER
WINTER 2007
T
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I slurp the root beer, bubbling on a sugar high
Burping confi dence and swaggering with the music
It’s not hard to, with the pool table clicking at my heels
I’m high on unadulterated teenager arrogance
And I pity those in the woods, drunk as death and high as life
On substitutes, pure manmade substances
Playing billiards with best friend and tent-mate, we waltz –
Slowly, carefully, laughingly with Lady Luck, losing every time
It’s only natural, and always fun
Playing pranks, toilet paper tents and hose-downed drunks
Shuddering at out-houses, shrugging and slipping through brooks
Dunking in ice-cold water, and giggling at dumb drunk dudes
Slurring pride
Snoozing like logs sheltered in tents and scared of spiders
Waking in sleepy eyed saunas in the early morning sun
A carbonated taste of life, experiences, and little lessons:
“Never get that drunk”
Fireworks and fun on the Fourth of July
Hannah Rigg, III
4

THE REGISTER
WINTER 2007
A

in the City

Inspired by Martin Lewis
There’s nothing more enticing than a cool night breeze after being caught in a
hot, stuffy room. She can’t resist stepping out onto the old, rickety fi re escape to feel it
caress her hot, sweaty skin. It’s too nice a night to spend sleeping. The times are chang-
ing, and yet another beacon rises from the metropolis, a beacon saying “this is where
you want to be tonight.” She looks up at the night sky, midnight blue from the myriads of
lights, and sliced to pieces by the heavy duty ropes supporting the multitudes of hosiery
and bed sheets that replace the evanescent stars. Outside the fulminous glow of the city,
everything is a wash of grays and blacks.
Here and there, the pantyhose are speckled by tears, and the fabric of the sheets
is worn thin from constant use. Everyday, another one joins the masses. The people that
own them can’t do anything about it; nothing is wasted when you’re trying to make ends
meet. And God knows, it’s getting harder everyday for them, because work’s getting
scare ‘round these parts, and the lines at the soup kitchen are getting longer. It’s hard for
the people’s contender to fi ght when he ain’t got nothing in his belly.
People are just trying to take car of the little ones, and from inside, she can hear
her little ones whimpering in their sleep, and she knows that tomorrow, she may not
be able to feed them, if Joe doesn’t get a job down at the docks, then she doesn’t know
what she’ll do. Nowadays, everyone’s growing skinny on neediness. But God knows, it’s
not like they haven’t been trying. It seems that the only way to make it in these parts is to
be part of the right type of people, and she and Joe both know that they’re too honest for
that.
There ain’t no use in living in the old days anymore. The days of the fl apper
dresses and vaudeville are drawing to a close, and after the fi nal echo of the last tap has
died, there’s nothing left. Except for the smoke and grime of a city fi lled with people
living hand to mouth. And they’re all living on the fringe, looking for a way to make it to
that golden beacon. But they ain’t moving. And beneath the squalor, the city is boiling
over with the indignity of having to watch its children cry for another morsel, and having
nothing left to give. And the gears of the city are turning on the sweat from the backs of
the honest men just trying to make it by.
Before too long, all hell’s gonna break loose, and they’re gonna keep that city up
all night with their screams. She feels the cool breeze blow over her parched skin, and
knows that soon, soon things will change.
Stacey Leonard, II
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THE REGISTER
WINTER 2007
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ddiirrttyy aanndd ffaabbuulloouuss,, wwiitthhoouutt tthhee oollddeerr bbooyy ccaassttiinngg gglloooommyy EEaasstteerrnn--bblloocckk sshhaaddoowwss oonn iitt,, bbuutt
II ttoolleerraatteedd hhiimm.. IItt wwaass bbeesstt wwhheenn iitt ssnnoowweedd,, aanndd tthhee pplloowwss ssppuutttteerreedd aanndd ccoommppllaaiinneedd iinn
tthhee ssttrreeeett.. TThhee ddrriiffttss bbllaacckkeenneedd aarroouunndd tthhee eeddggeess aanndd bbeeccaammee sslliicckk.. TThhiiss mmaaddee tthheemm ffaassccii--
nnaattiinngg,, mmaaddee tthheemm ddaarrkk aanndd iinnttrriigguuiinngg,, lliikkee ssaallttyy ppooppssiiccllee ccaassttlleess tthhaatt ssttuucckk aallll oovveerr mmee..
MMyy ddaadd’’ss ffaaccee wwaass aa wwaasshh ooff bbuuggggyy--eeyyeedd ggllaasssseess,, wwiirryy bbllaacckk hhaaiirr bblloooommiinngg aarroouunndd hhiiss
eeaarrss,, aanndd aa bbiigg rreedd nnoossee hhee mmooppppeedd wwiitthh aa hhaannddkkeerrcchhiieeff.. HHee wwaass ttaallll aanndd mmaaddee ooff aanngglleess,,
hhiiss hhaanndd hhoollddiinngg mmiinnee lliikkee aa ssoofftt--bboonnee ffoorrttrreessss.. HHee wwoouulldd ttrryy ttoo fifi xx oonnee ooff tthhee yyeellllooww ppllaass--
ttiicc bbuunnnniieess tthhaatt hhaadd bbeeeenn wwrreessttlleedd iinnttoo mmyy bbrraaiiddss oonnllyy tteenn mmiinnuutteess eeaarrlliieerr,, nnooddddiinngg aanndd
ssmmiilliinngg aatt tthhee oolldd PPoolliisshh llaaddyy tthhee wwhhoollee ttiimmee.. HHee ppuunnccttuuaatteedd tthhee ccoonnvveerrssaattiioonn wwiitthh ““OOhh
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hhaadd ssaaiidd wwaass ccoommpprreehheennssiibbllee aatt aallll aanndd wwaass eevveenn tthhee mmoosstt lloovveellyy aanndd mmuussiiccaall tthhiinngg hhee’’dd
ever heard.
SShhee rreemmiinnddeedd mmee ooff aa ssaacckk ooff ttwweeeedd,, wwiitthh ppeenngguuiinn lleeggss aanndd ppllaaiidd kkeerrcchhiieeffss ttiieedd rreessoolluutteellyy
uunnddeerr hheerr cchhiinn.. MMyy nnaannaa wwaass mmuucchh mmoorree ffaasshhiioonnaabbllee tthhaann tthhee PPoolliisshh llaaddyy,, bbuutt II kkeepptt mmyy
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ttiillyy.. IItt ttaasstteedd lliikkee flfl aatttteerryy ttoo mmee,, lliikkee tthhee eenndd ooff tthhee ddaayy,, wwhheenn mmyy ffaatthheerr wwoouulldd ppiicckk mmee uupp
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there.
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lliikkee,, ““DDaaddddyy,, iiff bblliinndd ppeeooppllee ddoonn’’tt sseeee aannyytthhiinngg,, tthheenn wwhhaatt ddoo tthheeyy sseeee?? IIss iitt bbllaacckk bbeehhiinndd
tthheeiirr eeyyeelliiddss lliikkee mmiinnee??”” DDaadd wwoouulldd llooookk aatt mmee wwiitthh hhiiss tthhaatt’’ss--aa--ggoooodd--qquueessttiioonn llooookk,, eeyyee--
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ttrraaiinn II’’dd ssccrraammbbllee aarroouunndd mmyy sseeaatt,, sseeaarrcchhiinngg ffoorr hhiiddddeenn ddeepptthhss iinn ttoorrnn bbllaacckk lleeaatthheerr,, nneeww
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aavvooiiddiinngg mmyy ffaatthheerr’’ss sshhuusshhiinngg hhaannddss,, ttrryyiinngg ttoo kkeeeepp tthhee ttaassttee ooff ffrreeeeddoomm iinn mmyy mmoouutthh bbee--
ffoorree wwee ggoott ttoo pprree--sscchhooooll..
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