Inkwell
Spring 2020
Contents
Jomi Uyenco '20
cover photo by Thomas Smith '22
An Open Letter to Open Minds
ANTEDILUVIAN 3 An Open Letter to Open Minds Maxmilian Pham '20 4 From Fr. Jeff Johnson, SJ 5 From Fr. Michael Wegenka, SJ 6 Future Anxiety Anthony Kim '21 7 Casa Juan Diego Aaron Lavery '21 8 The Guitar William Jesulaitis '23 9 A Dance to Forget Jackson Cordes '23 10 The Gift Mr. Bruce C. Autry 11 Books and Other Oddities of Love Mr. Bruce C Autry 13 Montserrat Mr. Mark McNeil 15 Give Me Directions Franklin Nwora '21 16 Epic of the Pop Tart Sebastian Martinez '21 17 Not So Glowy Now Erick Lara '20 18 The Scrantiad Dwight Solano '23 19 The Wheels Keep on Rolling Cristian Barinaga '23 20 Farewell Weston Miller '21 22 Dragonflies Alex Broadnax '22 23 On Margherita Galucci's San Lorenzo John Mark Padon '21 25 Ascend Aaron Lavery '21 26 On Bernadette Carstenson's Mary and Jesus Aidan Franklin '20 27 On Michael Zapata's Procession of Cuenca Michael Stephan '20 28 Gold Liam Smith '20 29 For Want of Wonder Maxmilian Pham '20 30 The Tragedy of Winter this Year AJ Bradshaw '21 31 She Was Reed Hightower '22 32 For You Reed Hightower '22 33 Three Poems Fernando Urdaneta '21 POSTLAPSARIAN 35 The Light in the Darkness Jacob Buergler '21 36 Quarantine Drew Bevington '21 37 Nostalgia Arya Draksharam '22 38 Dear God Joel Crawford '22 39 Of the Noise, Forest, Mountain, and Lord Christopher Hoekel '21 40 A Light in the Dark Diego Sanchez Alatriste '21 41 Solace in My Cage Nicolas Thompson '21 42 Bound to Break William Hubbard '22 44 Hunkering Down Mark Poisler '21 45 Finding Purpose in Our Isolation Matthew Cabrera '21 46 The Crown of Death Abhi Gudipati '22 47 To All Those in Quarantine John Powell '21 49 Dear Class of 2020 Ogochukwu Okpala '22
Ali Jalal '20
Dear readers, The third year of Strake Jesuit’s Inkwell publication has come to its conclusion, not with a whimper but with a bang. At this current time, COVID-19 has ensnared our minds and our news feeds, but I hope not the same fate for our hearts. The students and faculty of our school have stepped up with great courage in revealing their reflections, ideas, and creativity through the written word. Even more amazing is our strength in pursuing our goals of service and Ignatian reflection with dedication and resolve. I am proud to say that this year’s magazine is published with great love. Every submission has an outpouring, a piece of contemplation and thought that attempts to connect with you, the reader. That connection by the ink on a page to an open mind is quite the marvelous thing, and I’m sure that with our superb selections this year, you will find at least a few pieces that suit your fancy. A decade comes to a close, and my high school career alongside it. I’ve been a part of Inkwell Club since its founding during my sophomore year in late 2017, and I’m wistful at the thought of finally leaving it. However, I know that the future of Inkwell is in good hands with the passing of the torch to a new generation of leaders and thinkers, writers and readers, organizers and actors alike. The game’s afoot! Now get to reading the rest of the magazine! This, too, shall pass, Maxmilian Pham, Class of 2020
Here and now in the present moment, we choose the narrative that we tell about the years behind us. Events are set in the concrete of history, but their meaning is continually open to new interpretations and the light of God’s grace. Was our youth an opportunity or a relationship wasted and lost forever, or are these merely moments that only make what comes later more sweet? Ultimately, Christianity is a comedy, not a tragedy. The best is yet to come, and the true meaning of our lives is always cause for hope and joy. Do you perceive its growth in you today?
From Fr. Michael Wegenka, SJ
From Fr. Jeff Johnson, SJ
Beck Hassen '21
Nicholas Smith '22
Thanks to all the students who embraced their God given talents and creativity. God made us in His image and God is creator of all. So we are very much like God when we use our talents to be creative. Thanks for sharing your God-like creativity with us all.
"To tremble before anticipated evils is to bemoan what thou hast never lost." -Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Future Anxiety Anthony Kim ‘21 How does one seek true purpose in life? Placed in this world full of endless troubles, I become as sharp as the dullest knife, Seeking answers, yet pain only doubles. We often take precious time for granted, To see it fly by in the nick of time. Among prepared classmates, I feel stranded, As procrastination becomes my crime. But as pressure swells, I embrace my stress. I’m reminded of my motivations As I put my anxiety to rest. Stress and pain no longer my frustrations. So long as pain and time may affect me, I’m reminded of the man I can be.
Casa Juan Diego Aaron Lavery ‘21 What happens at the Casa? All can see: Crates clustered against the wall, just waiting; The chaos-pantry, always spilling; Well-used books are in hasty stacks, messy. The china sits in a closet, dusty; Silverware not in use, thus no cleaning; All floors are dusty, with need of scrubbing; And the fence’s peeling paint is dirty. But the paint describes a Catholic angle, A world of love in action, and where love Compels a stranger to welcome, grimy, The refugees to their home and table. That is the job, and to be the face of God—who served among us—our whole species.
Hurley Qi '22
Mrs. Sharon Sheara
"...in a moment's pause, another world / reveals itself behind the ordinary." - From Dana Gioia's "The Stars Now Rearrange Themselves"
The Guitar William Jesulaitis '23 I put down the guitar and walk away, My fingers bent and broken. The chords beg me to stay, The remainder of the song unspoken. A broken ship hit by Zeus, having given up the inner fight Feeling ill and a little chartreuse, Praying for Athena to send me some insight. I stand here with nothing to do, I lay down my doubts, and start all anew There is no time for pouts. The days turn to nights, The seasons crossover, The string no longer bites, The frustration is over. Best Friends we have become, It has been a pleasure making you hum, I need to go and seize the day I put down the guitar and walk away,
A Dance to Forget Jackson Cordes '23 I took her by the arm, preparing for our final dance We have been prepared for this for days on end Just hoping for the chance That when the time comes, our limbs all bend And our metal bones don’t make a creak To not disturb the audience for whom we sway Those wretched faces taking a peek At our dance we have prepared today We dance behind the curtain again My waltzing eyes had struggled to see A thousand girls and two thousand men The rust on their gears forbids them to flee As if they had somewhere to go Our strings have tightened, it is nearly time To finally give our last show The watchers pay us with their dimes As if it suffices my knowledge that is Machines can’t love and enjoy their time Without a heart or even a soul. Knowing this I am ready to lose a ‘life’ that never stood a chance I took her by the arm, preparing for our final dance
Chance Mathews '21
"QUOTE" - Author
The Gift Mr. Bruce C. Autry I found a blue and golden book, Musty and dark on a metal shelf Bathed in soft fluorescent light. The book, an aged romance of wigwam and cabin, Seemed an old thing of paper, glue, and ink ‘Til I opened the fragile boards And saw in faded brown a hand From beyond the grave whose smooth strokes Told of parental love now dead Like the knell of the village bell. I held the dead man’s book, the boy Who pored over these pages when new, Long dead and gone, extinguished like the old people Of the big wood who chased the deer and bear ‘Til the Great Spirit called out of the whirlwind, The mournful wail of death. I held the dead man’s book, the boy Who chased his dream in the shimmer And shine, twisting shadow dancing Fire of the cool October sky, Long dead and gone in the eddy of fading time, I held the dead man’s book, the boy, Who gifted me a glimpse of myself Through a path leading across time and space To the brink of all things past, all things future Here through the faded hand, the silent Voice still audible above the din of modern guns And bombs and midnight assassins crouched by the baby’s door. The dead love still blooms in the swirl Of these old letters from the grave.
Books and Other Oddities of Love Mr. Bruce C. Autry I like the smell of new books Saturating my porous mind With a green stream whose branches Will redeem my sinful will. I like the sound of a pencil Scratching its cryptic code Upon a white page whose acid Will consume the bitter fruit. I like the look of the sea Bathing the littered beach With a white-capped wave whose salt Will cleanse the deepest wound. I like the taste of old love Sweetening my yellow days With the candied past whose sugar Will regale my slender soul. I like the feel of her skin Warming my calloused hand With an autumnal promise whose power Will repair my broken heart.
Nicolas Favoriti '21
- from Marly Youmans's "Invisibles"
"So much that's good remains invisible"
-Quote Author
Montserrat Mr. Mark McNeil Face of resignation and sacrifice towers before me Arms reaching to embrace heaven’s expanse Feet effortlessly rest on the nail that pierced them Flowers sprout from the imposing instrument of death Suspended between heaven and earth On the vast clear blue canvas before me A faint fog creeps into the horizon Red and orange make their debut Hiding the short mountain tops The rocks that dwarf their peers leap upwards towards the sky, yet falling far short Prayers of a thousand years ascend still The soul’s patient listening chosen over the noise below Majesty envelops and proud lips are silenced The soul’s eye sees eternity in a brief drop of time The green of life clings to lifeless rocks Life’s mystery everywhere present on the stones that ask but do not answer What message is offered? The rocks and sky cannot tell Yet they speak with mighty force The ancient paths sit silently, inviting The answer is not in myself, nor in the stones by themselves The soul’s ache for eternity and the silent sky and stones Relinquish their meaning in knowing the face suspended before me
Montserrat
Written in December, 2018, after a walk along the paths on the Spanish mountain, Montserrat; the poem considers a large crucifix and the natural beauty that surrounds it.
photo by Mr. Beau Guedry
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet consetetur sadipscing elitr.
Aaron Rucker '22
"We are Crusaders, and the soldier on a horse that we can strive to imitate most is Ignatius of Loyola, whose crusade was first and foremost against his own tendency to reject the love of God by withdrawing into a world of fantasy where he was enslaved by his passions. Love is sometimes flowery and romantic, but more often it is a simple act of paying attention to what is before us with a heart that is ready to both give and receive. Our crusade on behalf of love is a way against indifference. Once we love passionately, we will know precisely how to give our lives for its sake." -Fr. Michael Wegenka, SJ
Give Me Directions Franklin Nwora '21 I did the things that made me happy and they didn’t make me happy. So I did some things I hated—Still they didn’t make me happy. I had tried to learn my lesson, I was constantly distressed and— was trying to see a better me, was staring at reflection. So I prayed to God, was asking him to give to me directions. My Google maps was going red, met traffic at the section. And I was switching lanes— Thought that I could take a different way, But the minutes added slowly to my ETA. Ignored directions from the people that to me would say, that my “life was outta balance”— But left the scale for me to weigh. On my knees again in chapel, Lord I’m back to you, to pray. That maybe I’ll be happier some day; but not today. So I did the things I thought would make me happy once again— I’m positive that I’d be happy if I ran and never left——
Austen Hill '22
Joe Stick wakes up, gets out of bed, showers, brushes his teeth, makes breakfast for his family, goes to work, comes back eight hours later, eats dinner, finishes up the work he took home, and goes back to sleep. Joe Stick wakes up, gets out [...] and goes back to sleep. Every day he does this, the same monotonous cycle. Joe’s well off, however. He’s compensated for the time he grinds at work. He comes home to a thankful family everyday with food ready for him at the table. His bed clocks the end of his day. Resting his head against the linen pillow, smothering his side to a slumber. The cycle will never seem to end. Joe Stick wakes up, gets out of bed, showers, brushes his tee… Wait a minute. “My teeth aren’t there? That’s a bit strange,” ponders Joe. He goes to the kitchen break the nightly fast. Bread is toasted, buttered, and brought toward his mouth to savor the oiled up crumbs. But, alas, no tongue is there to bear witness. “What is going on?” Joe hobbles to the nearby mirror. He expects to see his normal, not-much-to-see face there. Instead, a bland, gray translucent stick greets him through the glass. He hurries to work before he has to explain any of this to his family. He grabs for his suitcase. He whiffs the handle. “Oh right, no hands.” Check being able to go to work off the able-to-do list. Might as well add drive a car, too. His wife, Jen Stick, walks into his office, half asleep. “Honey, shouldn’t you be at work already?” asks Jen. She finally gets a hold of her senses and sees this 6ft.-long pole standing upright with a hat on with what seems like a slight resemblance of what remains of her husband. Joe explains the whole situation to her, from the buttered bread to the no driving. Jen kicks Joe out of the house rather abruptly for no longer being useful to the family. Joe, with nowhere else to go, turns to an unoccupied underside of a highway as his new home. With only a metal can and the good hearts of passersby as his source of income, Joe’s career seems to have reached an end. But then, something catches Joe’s eye. A gust of wind picks up a bunch of leaves off the ground and starts to make a swirl in mid air. “How cool!” Joe thinks. This leads Joe to wonder, “If that could make me amazed, imagine how easy it would be to amaze other people!” Joe immediately starts to spin in place like a propeller. A crowd starts to form. People begin coming out of their cars to see the wonder that is this 6ft. sentient glow stick spinning madly. Tourists from around the globe change their destination routes to see Joe. Joe becomes a global phenomenon. “Ah… what a big imagination I have,” Joe thinks. Joe begins his plan. He spins around once and cracks his back because he did not stretch. Joe begins to glow a light green color. Although he is in immense pain from cracking, he does gain the attention he has been seeking. He is back to being cared for by his fans, but at what cost? He's too overworked.
Derek Wong '22
Epic of the Pop Tart Sebastian Martinez '21 Its eternal, divine form draws so near. Its true majesty is always unbound. My soul its full presence draws forth. My tears! Its majestic approach emits no sound. The room around me then gains a border, For divinity doth need a vessel. My life requires this greater new order, But with this new desire I now wrestle. Now the path is blocked by a large bald man! I feel the loss; it’s of my full vigor, And all my dreams end within the trash can. My despair could yet get any bigger! I've searched for its eternal form; art, Its divine appearance: the true pop tart.
-Soren Kierkegaard
Not So Glowy Now Erick Lara '20
"The task must be difficult, for only the difficult inspires the noble-hearted."
The Sound that Scranton forged, the cusp for all. The journey now begins, eight years and all. With Scott we start at Dunder-Mifflin Inc His Hubris clouds him, Mug of Boss he thinks. Then Jan arrives the one that Scott does fear, So told the fate, that shall befall his crew: A duel with Josh and Co., for Branch control. From Scott to James to see his story whole. As Æneis wandered Troy to Rome, So James meanders, Pam’s abode his Home. And soon we see good James and Dwight dispute the Demarcation James makes absolute. Then Michael musters all to speak of fate, and all ask Scott to what do we anticipate, so Scott commits that Jan will Torment None. But James still wonders, what would have been done? We See Him Back in Quarrel, Dwight his Foe. With cunning James installed his trap, Jello. The day now draws to close and James tricks Scott. The dawn that started all be not Forgot.
The Wheels Keep on Rolling Cristian Barinaga '23
The Scrantiad Dwight Solano '23
"The journey backward can free us for the next steps forward. Reflection, prayer, and storytelling create within us a fuller picture of who we have been and who we are becoming." -Vinita Hampton Wright
The wheels keep on rolling The pedals keep on pressing The gas tanks are depleting The walkers are cowering Even when the sign says Stop The drivers are texting And avoid concentrating Their eyes are now wandering Even when the light turns Green The passengers are yelling The drivers have stopped caring The radio is blaring Even when the sign says Yield The man wants to cross the road To visit his friend’s abode The walking sign shines bright white The man knows he has the right But the wheels keep on rolling
Alex Broadnax '22
"Man's goodness is a flame that can be hidden but never extinguished." -Nelson Mandela
Matthew Cabrera '21
Farewell Weston Miller '21 The world around had turned him into a soldier He packed his bags as the sky got darker, the time to leave always getting closer, the life he had hoped for getting farther. He told his family he’d only be gone awhile. He looked at his daughter for the very last time. But when was the last time he had seen her smile? He would never see it again, and that was the real crime. This is not how it was supposed to be. This would not be the life he had promised her. For as he turned back to face her, all he could see was a face full of tears—and what all his life had been for. As the night became morning, he would be sent off to war. He hopes to see them again someday, nothing more.
Michael Dinh '22
Dragonflies Alex Broadnax '22 While walking in a shallow river I listened to the flowing water beneath my bare feet Above me, puffy white clouds lazily drifted across a powder blue sky Before me, a forest climbs up a hillside I stopped to take it all in I sat in the clear, cool water I felt the water rush against my back And drifted across my knees I closed my eyes and listened to the symphony of nature’s sounds I lost myself I let go of all sense of time I became part of nature I became like another rock in the river Time passed like molasses pours Slow and steady When I slowly opened my eyes I came back to myself And discovered I was completely covered with dragonflies My hands, my arms, my knees were a dragonflies perch Their iridescent wings glistened in the sun Emerald green and sapphire blue Like little airplanes ready to fly I dared not move I dared not breathe I wanted this moment to last I wanted to drink it in I could not last The dragonflies and I had to go home
On Margherita Gallucci's San Lorenzo John Mark Padon '21 A door with a feathered man, a feathered man with a door. The smell hanging just as the feathers hang. The sash hangs yet contains. The feather falls yet writes, the smell hangs yet burns. The man brings them all together.
"What you are in love with, / what seizes your imagination, will affect everything." -Fr. Joseph P. Whelan, SJ
Salvatore Nuzzo '22
The cold, harsh air stabs into the man’s lungs, Crying out to the man, “Here I am, Lord!” And suddenly, the man is no longer a man. He is the commander of his own destiny, But still a servant of the Lord-Creator. Little life survives up here, and yet, Life lives at the maximum here. The trees and shrubs are not in sight, But the goats and scrubby grass thrive. Man is but a wanderer here, yet is at home. Man must fear the mountain that rises up, But must not be timid when talking to it. Climb! ascend the heights, and rise to God. Stand in with the clouds, with the sun, And be at peace on—no, in—the mountain. Fear is known when the clouds rise up; And peace, when the sun shines through; And anger, when the path defies you; And most of all, it is prayer that is known, When all around you seems—no, is—perfect. What is man that God gives so freely, Free as the water that flows from the river’s mouth, Giving man the mountains, and the birds? The answer? Look to the stars, and see this: God's vastness, and know that he loves you. This is not for "man"—it is for you. It is for me. It is for the child-like, who always see it, Not for the billionaires, who seek to use it, Who seek to destroy it for their own “good” What do they know? Have they seen God’s ways? Do they know God’s mind? Why should they keep it? It is yours and mine, for us to protect, Not for us to keep. This is God’s dominion. God is not up there, But down here. Come here to see Him— And he comes to you.
"The sky / holds our mirror. We see / Our lives in it, swift as a day / Full of wings, trees in flame." -from Sally Thomas's "Morning, with Goldfinches"
Ascend Aaron Lavery '21
Mattias Kreuzer '20
Mr. Guillermo Hernandez-Ching
On Michael Zapata's Procession of Cuenca Michael Stephan '20 Perhaps there was a heaven on earth… They walked in the dark, in a circle around their refuge Around a decomposing building that they called their home It was really a parasite, but the people overlooked logic They were deep in thought, though incapable of it... The temple’s presence was distinct and undeniable Like a light in the dark, it gave them a soothing comfort To never again worry again about hardships and struggle The people laughed with each other’s company, And they did not eat for ten days because they did not feel it. In time it became arduous, and unbearably so The empathy and trust they exhibited so proudly became a foreign concept, and despair overtook them like a plague. They tried to break free, but past a grunt they continued Walking, and walking, and walking… Their souls found freedom in death, but their bodies continued walking Perhaps there was a heaven on earth...
On Bernadette Carstensen’s Mary and Jesus Aidan Franklin '20 Soft to the touch, like the pale skin of a newborn child The Son of God reaches out to fulfill his earthly sense of touch. His mother’s adoring stare falls lovingly into his eyes, He smiles out of happiness of the love he shares for mankind. He knows not what the halo above his head means, Yet he knows his Father above claims him as His own. The power of this earthly and heavenly connection is shown In the rosy face of this little boy. His happiness will be cut short by the world, But his impact will last forever and save many. Though people will take him for granted, He will love them with unconditional love. Just as intriguing as the petals in his palm, Is the love of God he will show to everyone.
Gold Liam Smith '20 I was on break and I was so tired that I sat down next to the director. This girl was sitting there doodling. Her name was Gold. I knew her from last summer, and it was interesting to see how people initially reacted to her in this theater camp. She was one to blurt things out. After two or three times, people started to notice. That didn't take away from who she was; her autism made her a one-of-a-kind actor. Because she didn't have a neurotypical perspective on social norms and how/when society chose to implement them, she seemed to me to be free of them, like some sort of superhero (Wonder Woman). I watched Gold doodle in her notebook, which she had hardly used. She had a pattern where she would draw a circle and then ovals around the circle. Oh wait, they were flowers. I was so tired. Anyway, I asked if I could take a picture just for old time’s sake. Then I asked if she wanted to play tic-tac-toe (keep in mind: I was tired, hungry, and sleepy). The first game I won. The second game I tried to lose, but I was left with a checkmate situation so... Then I whipped out my Bluetooth speaker and asked, "Hey, do you like jazz?" "I'm all about that jazz." When she listened, she imitated the drums loosely and tried to keep up with the piano. She proudly told me that she was an expert bongo-player. I told her I played piano. After that and another slower jazz song, I felt overwhelmingly sleepy. I went to the middle of the circle of chairs, plopped down, and sprawled on the floor, staring at the ceiling for what could have been around 8 minutes. The best part: no one really cared. People just walked around me and proceeded with their conversations. In high school, you see so many weird and shocking things. There’s a million and one risks you can take in each day, so why not take some? No one cares how you act, just what you do with it. Live more bright and grand—live a life with color, like Gold.
For Want of Wonder Maxmilian Pham '20
I might see that many curses afflict the kingdom’s land Oblivion, despair, ignorance; just to name a few If one should look closer, she might see this too The darkness ubiquitous, can’t waive with any a hand However surely the pow’r of might may stand In this quarrel, it takes a darkly crimson hue As war, pestilence, and hunger dwell ever true Surety’s that debt can ne’er fill a falling sailor’s sand If one trusts in transcendent spirit, know that there lay Many a hubris or doubt that befall the very mind Given the universe’s vast expanses, I fear Not without cause but with conviction, I say A sound better than deafening silence in kind Harmony, one should see at last, I hope I hear
She Was Reed Hightower '22 Looking through the crystal panes of my local Starbucks I can’t help but wonder how I didn’t see it coming She was like the first cascade of leaves on an early fall day She was like candied ginger, spiced chocolate, cinnamon apricots She was like a sip of homemade, fuzzy cider, soft and safe And when she left well, she was like the winter that finally came I push my spectacles higher against the bridge of my nose, The reverie having distracted me from my incomplete English thesis
David Wehmer '22
"Humanity in every age and even today looks to works of art to shed light upon its path and its destiny." -St. Pope John Paul II
The Tragedy of Winter of This Year AJ Bradshaw '21 Like the ocean, it is eternally moving The power that it evokes, nothing else can match The devastation it leaves, and the pain it causes Some look on in envy because of it While others rejoice in the tragedy that has unfolded For me, nothing. The most valuable material Is worth naught in my eyes. I am all alone in this sentiment A sea from everyone else, I am separated not only by my thoughts but by the cursed catastrophe, keeping me trapped The hardships one must endure in the search for survival, One must do the unthinkable. When villages come together And the rainy days are over, the sun shines once again This power, unlimited and unstoppable, feeble attempts to contain it By mortal minds, the struggle for domination ends pointlessly For this is the true calamity, the one to which everyone has a gripe It is the burst water pipe.
Nineteen men That’s all we had, nineteen men Three marines You know the type; Hi-ho, go getters, G-I-Joe commandos In case times got hard Harder than the already were, anyway One pilot An airforceman, really But we all just called him a dreamer Someone who’d rather soar the skies In a comfy little seat Rather than being in the real trouble Like us One seaman No good on dry land But he told good stories How his wife would bake roast duck And every time we heard it, our mouths watered And the chalky rations of stale bread Seemed even drier
For You Reed Hightower ‘22
Three Poems Fernando Urdaneta '21
The Building When man learned about the brick And of cement with which he could stick The stones and wood that he would pick He fancied himself a god So he built some tiny huts He made small homes for his mutts Knowing that he was out of his primal ruts On Earth did he trod At last he tried to build the Tower To question and overcome the Heavenly Power. And when he placed the very first stone Only he understood himself, only him alone. The Prophet When Isaiah looked through the mist of time To see God’s plan for humankind He tried to know and understand If the Israelites would keep their land And of course he sought to see the Messiah To see if He would resemble Elijah Or if he would be like Samson strong Or eloquent like David and preach through song Therefore, imagine Isaiah’s surprise When he learned that the Messiah should die And be made like a Paschal lamb And free not just the Israelites, but the whole land. The Lonely One I am the only one like me As far as both my eyes can see There is no one else quite the same And I think that is quite a shame I think I am quite a cool guy And so I truly wonder why It seems that I am all alone Unique, yet lonely, down to the bone I am sure there will come a day When someone else will come and say “I think you are much like me!” And perhaps then I’ll be happy
And fourteen infantry We were nothing special The expendables The nameless ones Wifeless, parentless, childless More than willing to sacrifice ourselves But we trudged through We made our own Drank rancid water, infested and rank with disease Fought man and nature alike Huddled together in freezing winds Waded through rivers Climbed mountains Higher than the clouds Dug ditches So long you could see them Stretching out like worms Made our own paths Made our own lives Made our own deaths For you
Zachariah Wrobel '23
“The world will never starve for want of wonders; but only for want of wonder.” - G. K. Chesterton
The Light In Darkness Jacob Buergler '21 January 20th, 2020 Atlas holds up the world, beginning to teeter He arches his back, veins protruding As if his skin were glass in an aquarium And you could see his electric eel blue veins slithering through his arms His strained, blood-red eyes stare at you Like a hungry alligator on a cool, dark day With an unquenchable urge to snatch The oblivious gray rabbit jovially playing in front of its snout The world falls, crashing like a glass marble The virus reaches America, the news stories breakout While I sleep comfortably in my house The hysteria, the death, the fear Well-rested, mind is clear Talks of masks, failure, and dearth People jogging across the sunny Earth Victims in forever sleep While I wake up well-rested on a Sunday morning Others see their loved ones die As I spend more time with my family The economy loses trillions of dollars And I get a couple more hours of free time each day The hospitals may be full, crowded with the sick But the neglected park on the corner seems well alive Some days the sun must shine on the alligator At the expense of the rabbit And Atlas needs to be able to stretch once in a while Even if the world should fall What a contrast! That people die yet more fully engage in the splendor of life Freedom our unintentional byproduct And time our self-indulging pleasure What a synergistic combination! That we save others while in the comfort of our homes What a relief to know that unlike Atlas We rest to save the world
"...and in a moment's pause, another world / reveals itself behind the ordinary." -From Dana Gioia's "The Stars Now Rearrange Themselves"
Our Postlapsarian State
"Time is borrowed, and I am thankful to have this extra time with my senior and our family. I would not return this time for anything. Nothing is more precious and priceless than time. For this I am grateful. "
Quarantine Drew Bevington '21 The flames crackle and pop sending their little red embers to float into the air and disappear without a trace. The white smoke billows into the sky, blotting out the stars and the moon. The dew on the grass from the rain a few hours prior dampens our shoes. We sit in blue plastic chairs with our faces warmed from the fire pit. I sit looking out towards the neighbors and see a flicker of a flame in the distance. My face is calm and I am at peace. During this quarantine I have changed my views many times on whether the virus is a good thing. But in the end I think it is impossible to choose because it is neither. This quarantine is not only life changing, but it is changing our entire world. It is the first thing in our lives which unites everyone in our nation, but more importantly everyone in our homes. This quarantine takes away so much from us, but it also gives back. It gives us a chance to reorient our lives. It took everything that was important to us. It took everything that we held as an idol: food, money, friends, sports, and it threw them away and from this we got a chance to grow. We get a chance to be with our families and to grow in ourselves. We have more time now than ever to work on ourselves in every way that we have wanted to but never got around to doing. It took families and it forced them together. I believe that because of this we are going to look back on this quarantine with a blurred perception on the overall impact it had because its impacts are not obvious. Families are going to come out of this closer than they have ever been. Individuals will give up addictions and vices that they couldn’t before. We lose a lot in this but it is also important to take time and see what we have gained.
"All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us."
Nostalgia Arya Draksharam '22 There was once a time where I would wake up before the sun rose to prepare for my journey to school. When I would walk from building to building while chatting with my friends about the game last night or the grueling practice we had after school. Coming home after practice, I would be drenched in the result of a combination of hard work and the merciless sun. After a long shower I would finish my homework and await my mom’s return from work. On game days, I would feel the excitement of competition flow within me the whole day as I anticipated the battle I would face on the field that night. On more relaxed days, my main focus was on my dog, Baylor. We would venture through the trails in the parks and play fetch like there was no tomorrow. I fondly remember the feel of the metal fence leading me to the dugout as I calmed my nerves before a game. I am nostalgic for the smell of fresh leather as I would regularly play catch. I miss seeing my mom through my eyes as she said “goodbye” before departing to save the lives of many. I long for the taste of the warm omelet that I would purchase every morning. I remember hearing my mom's voice as she would urge me to avoid contact with others and wash my hands frequently. As she advised me she would hypocritically put herself at risk to treat the people who were ignorant of these simple requests. Now, as I spend the majority of the day in my room, I visualize all the things in my life I took for granted. I long for the simplest of pleasures. In the present I’m trapped with only the smell of disinfectant and Purell as I frantically wash my hands with every second I have. I’m surrounded by a white wall, whose gradient patterns are locked in my brain from all the time I have spent pointlessly staring at them. I see my mom through hundreds of pixels and hear her voice transmitted to a microphone. With a grateful mind I consume the food cooked by my dad who tries to provide the best nutrition for me even with his inexperienced culinary skills. In a time of distancing I try to find a balance in my life through exercise and training. Every ounce of sweat takes my mind to a time when I took my life for granted. With every exercise I reflect on the past and how my life once was.
-Gandalf in The Lord of the Rings by J. R. R. Tokien
-Jackie Trahan Mother of Job Trahan '20
Of The Noise, Forest, Mountain, and Lord Christopher Hoekel ‘21 Bliss, happy Noise, none hear you. Ecstasy, calm Noise; peace, your bread and butter. Man, trespasser and tyrant; Biter and burner; frivolous and fiscal. His attitude, botch blight and burn. Noise, why have the birds gone silent? The winds do shake the forest, Bleached and cold, a forest of noise. Not your happy noise, no no, It rumbles, shakes, smokes, forest Of parched skeletons. All thin pale frames, White sheets stretch out upon them. Groans and moans, happy noise, They drown all light and song. Raising their cantankerous clamour up, God hears and points down upon them. Oh, Noise, rainfall, great torrents, tears of anger. His gavel makes the noise, rolling and rumbling. His eyes flash and crackle, his speech pained. Oh, Noise, why, what did we do? Pain, he cries, my Noise has been flogged. Burned, my forests’ skeletons your homes. Cracked, my mountain’s broken bodies your statues, Dishonorable forms built of the dismembered dead. Heed my words mankind, drown in the slain. Noise, look upon man, help, mercy, life. Nay, Oh Noise is beaten, drowned by groans. Forest, oh woodland beauty hung and carved. Mountain, oh craggy cliff, imposing impasse, felled. Lord, creator, angry tempest, damned are we.
Today I trust In You Amen?
Dear God Joel Crawford '22 Today I begin a quest, For the answer to a question. A question Small, but Compact. Simple, but Complicated. Challenging, but Easy. A question that has no answer But has been asked Many different times In many different ways... Why? Why do we feel Stuck. Glued. Cemented. As if all we can do is Wait. Wait for an ending that feels close. An ending we don’t want to arrive… Why does our reality feel scripted As if it has been taken Straight out of a movie Leaving us Helpless. Scared. Alone. Forcing us to abandon Our trust Our belief Our love In a time that we need it the most.
Why are we separated Instead of binding together for Protection. Defense. Refuge. So we can use each other To lean on In these times of desperation and despair. Life is a treasure That we take for granted. A possession frequently unwanted A prize that is given to all But taken away too early. A gem that shines brighter than all others But is never cherished as it should. Life can’t be traded for anything. Life is invaluable… So, Today, I pray for our nation Our world Our people Today, I pray for the spreading of hope The spreading of peace The spreading of unity Today, I pray for love For security For safety Today, I pray for life The Living and The Dead
A Light in the Dark Diego Sanchez Alatriste '21 I broke self-quarantine for the first time in three weeks this afternoon. I was not planning on leaving my house until this entire crisis was over. However, this changed when my mom broke the news to me last night. My friend’s father had passed away. I took my headset off, paused the game, and stared blankly at the screen for a couple of minutes. I began to put myself in my friend’s shoes and began to wonder what I would do. It’s not fair that anyone should have to say goodbye to their father so early on in their life. I wonder if he even had a chance to say goodbye, as visits to patients in hospitals have been extremely limited if not banned. Even in these dark times, something even worse crawled out of the darkness. The coronavirus exacerbated this death. With stay-at-home orders all across the country, no family members can fly in to mourn for his father. If my friend was feeling alone, the current situation must have made him even more lonely. We had to do something. Almost instinctively, the brotherhood of the Strake Jesuit community came to the rescue. I got in my car and pulled out of the driveway for the first time since leaving for school on the morning of March 12. A feeling of excitement and anxiety swept over me. I was uncomfortable turning the wheel and putting pressure on the gas pedal. It felt as if I had never driven a car in my life. I feared being stopped by the police as I was technically not obeying the stay-at-home order. There was a somber mood in the air. As I drove to my destination in silence, I felt as if passing through an abandoned ghost town. Strip malls were abandoned. Shops were closed. Parking lots were empty. People wore gloves and masks in their vehicles. Some even wore protective goggles. When I arrived at my friend’s house, a large smile formed on my face. In his front yard were a multitude of classmates, standing six feet apart, all talking and laughing. The amount of support from the SJ Community was incredible. Flooding the street, a multitude of cars were parked in front of his house. Parents spoke with his mother. My plans were initially only to speak with him from the safety of my car. Seeing everyone out in the yard when I arrived, however, I realized the importance of this moment. When I approached him I wanted to show him my support. A hug, a high five, a fist bump, a handshake—yet I could not because of the virus. We stood in the rain for around an hour, chatting with our safe distance. We spoke as if we had not seen each other in years. Even though we may have seen each other over our online Zoom meetings, it was only through face-to-face interaction that we were able to connect fully. Being able to bring a sense of hope and joy into someone’s life even in dire times like these made me feel truly happy. God has given each of us the power to heal and to console, and it is very powerful when done correctly. Reflecting on this short encounter, I have realized the impact even the simplest act of kindness can have. We showed our friend that he was not alone. When people ask me why I love my school, I can confidently point to moments like these for evidence. We are more than classmates or project partners. We have built deep relationships and have formed a brotherhood that is willing to support one of its own even amidst a global crisis. Truly, there can be a light in this darkness. I do not know when I will see my friends again, but I can rest assured that they have my back, and I have theirs.
"I will not return to a universe / of objects that don’t know each other, / as if islands were not the lost children / of one great continent.." -From Lisel Mueller's "Monet Refuses the Operation"
Solace in My Cage Nicolas Thompson '21 The fan spins round and round, as the cool air brushes through my legs. My body is halfway strewn across the couch. I wonder why I am stuck in this mess, and wonder if I should go outside and run. I feel stuck in a cage, and I can't get out. I want to run, but I just can't get out. Maya Angelou’s poem "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings" briefly comes to mind. I slip into reverie, wondering if I should just pass out on the couch. Then I quickly remember that I have this paper due. I have to continue writing, but I have a suspiciously achy feeling in my body and anxiety in the pit of my stomach, on top of a ruminating thought that the Coronavirus is right next to me. I begin to obsess that it is right next to me and we are out of Lysol disinfectant. The house begins to feel really small, as if the walls are closing in around me. I continue with this new obsession that the house is really my prison and I’m in quarantine. Am I a crippled bird in a cage? It seems like forever that I will be able to roam free. My family is here with me, and we seem to always be on high alert, wondering if any tickle in our throat will doom us to the coronavirus. If we feel warm, we quickly take our temperature to see if the coronavirus is beginning its path of destruction. I question, are we overreacting? Then I look at the statistics, everyday more infected and more deaths reported. It seems this is the new plague. I no longer have to wonder what a real pandemic looks like because I’m living through one. Can I find solace in my cage? Will the world recover? I glance out the front window and see someone has put up a flag that says, “We Will Be Ok,” and I know that God is on our side.
Bound to Break William Hubbard '22
The days pass by like a snail moving I awake to the sound of torture. My alarm goes off and sounds like a record player playing the same toon over and over. The water comes down on my head Cold like Canada water, Waking up my body from a deep sleep, From a long night. Class rolls around, First period never the hardest, Yet the slowest. Class is like a book now, You can get something out of it, Or you can waste your time. Nothing to fill the time, Empty like Gatsby 's heart without Daisy, Empty like our hearts without God. Time is like a black hole, All goes in But nothing can stop or fulfill it. Confinement has never been worse. I’m a tiger in a cage, Longing for the wild, But can only see it and not reach it. Life this year has been like a casino, You never know what game you’ll be playing, But you need up on the roulette wheel, Always a surprise. I feel like Freddie Mercury, Wanting to break free, Waiting for the hammer to fall to let us know we’re free, Just under pressure from this torture, And everything I know comes from my radio (Radio Gaga if u didn’t know it), And when this virus ends, We will be the champions. But I prevail, I'm like a frog, Without my Lilly I sink, Nothing to hold me up, My weight brings me down But now in this time it’s time that I swim on my own, But still knowing it’s there when I need it. Homework, Feels like a backpack, Should have less, yet More comes in. I feel like a snake, Always changing its skin, And always adapting to survive. Memes are getting tasteless, Like tofu, The world is like a broken nose, It’s very fixable yet, We’re all scared to fix, So we’re stuck. The world is like a cheerleader, We’re scared to fall, yet God will catch us when we do. My life is like LEGOS, We build it and make it look great, But it’s bound to break. Time now makes me think of Pink Floyd, Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day. Life is really like the economy, It has it ups and downs, It’s rises and falls, It peaks and crashes. Life is like the Beatles, I long for Yesterday, The sun will come, I want to go across the universe, All you need is love, And you can’t buy me love.
Finding Purpose in Our Isolation Matthew Cabrera '21 Angst, freedom, and unity. These three words describe the different states of mind I have experienced during my time in isolation. I would also imagine that most other people around the world would agree. While we are only in the midst of our time in isolation, I believe being able to reflect on the virus’s true impact allows me to put into context why these three words are so relevant. Late January marked the beginning of this global crisis when the virus began to spread out of China into other countries. Many people in the U.S., including some of my teachers and family members, were skeptical of the need of implementing protective measures. Their main argument was that the media was exaggerating the threat the virus posed to the United States. Some even argued that reporters were spreading false information and causing unnecessary panic in our society. As the virus inevitably spread throughout the U.S., and quickly appeared in Houston, such arguments began to fade away. Today, the United States is faced with more than 300,000 cases and 10,000 deaths due to the virus. Schools and non-essential businesses have shut down in a matter of weeks without any knowledge of when they will reopen. On top of this, we have all turned into germaphobes. All this dire news and uncertainty has created a feeling of anxiety and stress which has consumed the way we live our daily lives. This has created much angst amongst most people. As we face several more weeks or months of quarantine, many people, including myself, felt that this temporary isolation would be a great time to do the things we thought we could never do. I have used my time to practice the piano, and read a book. Some of my friends have even begun to learn how to program code, or practice a foreign language. I have also seen others online pledging to exercise, or remodel their homes with this time. There is a stark difference between those simply staying at home versus those who are battling for their lives. We need to exploit this time, and find purpose in it by accomplishing goals and objectives, such as studying for the SAT and AP exams. This freedom is not a simple freedom to do anything. It is a time to spend productively and with purpose. Stay-at-home restrictions around the world have left millions separated from their friends, family, and co-workers. Though our situation is wrought with anxiety, I personally believe that the separation has brought us together as human beings, for example, I recently celebrated my birthday. Soon after logging in to my first Zoom class, I was met with countless birthday wishes from friends and teachers. Over the summer, I was fortunate enough to spend a few weeks in a camp in France where I was able to meet kids my age from around the world. With these connections, I have been able to contact a friend who lives in Madrid, Spain who celebrated his birthday a day after I did. I was also able to talk with a friend who lives in Basel, Switzerland who is currently using Zoom and self-quarantining. I found that even though we are halfway across the world from each other we are still able to share similar experiences. I truly believe that now is the best time to reach out to someone you have not spoken to in awhile, since we are all working toward the same end-goal, the defeat of the coronavirus.
Joseph Manero '21
Hunkering Down Mark Poisler '21 Man once felt comforted around his companions, but recent circumstances have turned his feelings paranoiac. I recently rode my bicycle to the local wooded creek, freeing myself from confinement. Each foot circulated the pedal in millions of rapid rotations, my knee bones cracking from hibernation. The rays of warm sunlight immediately tanned my pale face. My eyes feasted on the natural colors of the world around me, unlike the artificial pixels on my iPad. The greenery of pine trees reaching for the sky, the freedom of a chirping red cardinal in flight, and the gentle flow of blue creek water reminded me that life continues outside the walls of my house. The white, red, and pink flowers blooming reminds me that spring has arrived! Suddenly, the forest darkened with heavy clouds above. The chirping of the birds ceased. Then ahead of the trail, I saw other human beings. I suddenly felt endangered. I knew I would have to pass by them eventually, but I would not feel safe. What if they have the virus? What if they cough when I pass by them in this narrowing trail? I sped up as I passed by them, holding my breath. I did not even bother to say hello. I just viewed those humans as deadly and dangerous. This is just one example of the current death and division in the human community. Some people gasp for air while others gasp for their family and friends. I am conflicted since spring and Easter are supposed to be times of rising life and unity. Before rising life, there must be steps that precede. Before a plant blooms, its pedals must stay shut for many months of the year. Before Jesus rose from the dead, He died a terrible death on the cross. I believe that this time gives the human species time for personal reflection and formation. We now have time for reading, praying, familial bonding, and enjoying nature. I would have not been able to ride my bicycle in the beautiful woods if it was not for the lockdown. People across the world have been given an opportunity to grow personally so they may be able to rise with each other when the world reopens. After the lockdown, I am confident that the human species as a whole will change and hopefully blossom for the better.
"God is not remote from us. He is at the point of my pen, my pick, my paintbrush, my needle--and my heart and my thoughts." -Pierre Tieldhard de Chardin, SJ
The Crown of Death Abhi Gudipati '22
To All Those in Quarantine John Powell '21 It was through this quote that I really thought about the silence a month-long quarantine produces. It is quite deafening. Funny how we only truly appreciate things when they are gone. Maybe Pascal wants to tell us that we are no greater than the silence we can bear. The social life as we know it has ground to a stop. The world falls silent as we watch with awe the days that pass by us so quickly. We are forced to grapple with boredom and stress. More importantly, we grapple with ourselves. No longer do we have that face-to-face interaction, but instead it has been replaced with the virtual world in which people interact as if life had not been interrupted. I apologize if this seems a bit pessimistic, but it is the truth. However, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Not only can we turn this strange and horrible situation into a better one, but we can also use this time for serious self-reflection and improvement. As said in the quote above, us humans have a tendency to fill ourselves with distractions, whether that is with food, money, or entertainment. We cannot simply sit silent with ourselves because it seems unnatural. We do this because we are afraid. Of others. Of ourselves. It has been said that our greatest enemy is ourselves. I might agree with that to a certain extent. But we are also our greatest allies. No one knows the enemy greater than ourselves. Call it concupiscence or a part of human nature, but understand that until we meet ourselves in silence, we cannot truly know ourselves. A relationship is only as good as the time and effort put into it. So it follows that if we ‘meet ourselves’ in silence, we will understand ourselves better: our emotions, our drives, and our worries. Use this time carefully. Normally, we do not have too much time to sit in silence, but this quarantine has provided plenty of it. Take some time to yourself and understand that there are things greater than you.
Living in uncertainty and fear was not uncommon; however, it was unnecessary. That is what we thought before Spring Break. We had things to do, business to attend to, entertainment to experience, time with friends to remember, classes and homework to do, and much more. Our responsibilities all vanished from our thoughts over one week. And they have been disappearing throughout this time. My room is set up in a way that depicts a dormitory for some reason: a desk at one end of the room, a bed on the other, and a window in between. The window used to be one of the sources of fresh air from the outside world. Now it is my only source for anything of the outside world. My backyard is now my football field; my room is now my school; my pantry is now my shopping mall; my wardrobe is now my clothing store; FaceTime is now my only face-to-face contact with people I know. My house is now my world. People are dying. We never realized the severity of the situation, but instead, out of arrogance and ignorance, we still went on cruises to sightsee, airplanes to visit families, and malls to purchase. We brought this upon ourselves. There was much possibility for containment and avoiding the danger, but WE ignored the threat. We brought it upon ourselves to take the lives of people whom we don’t even know for our pleasure and enjoyment. People who could have become the next great John Williams. People who could have invented the first flying car. People who could have become the president of a nation out of the sole purpose of bettering the world. People who were good. Gone. The breath that the world’s best artist would have used to blow away the sawdust from the sculpture of his wife, whose last breath was taken while carrying another life, would be taken away from him too. Gone. Families destroyed. Gone. Gone. Gone forever. Nobody would remember anybody that died except if the generation after the future generation read about the simple number of deaths in a history textbook. While we despised the dictator, we put the Crown of Death upon it as it reigned supreme over all life on Earth while hanging up a sign saying that EARTH IS CLOSED. Yutong. My friend from China. A brilliant musician and a born literaturist. A summer program. One summer night. We gave a performance: a combination of classical guitar and pen-tapping that caused a scream in our friendly crowd that lasts till now. I had called him to see if he was okay. He was more worried for me than I was for him. All of this I thought of in one moment. It went by as if in an instant. I remembered that my grandmother had called from India, advising our family to take the nearest ticket and come to India, because there was more of a chance of dying from COVID-19 in a country on the opposite side of the world from its origin than in a country that is a mere 2167 miles away from the virus’s origin. Stay sane. Safe, yes. Sane … please.
All of humanity's problems stem from a man's inability to sit quietly in a room alone. -Blaise Pascal
Eric Joekel '20
"It's been amazing going through all the submissions and looking at the wonderful talent in the making of Inkwell Magazine for the past two years. It shows me that our generation at Strake Jesuit has tremendous potential not only in creative writing but also in other artistic talents and abilities in the future." - Damien Morales '21
Dear Class of 2020 Ogochukwu Okpala '22 It is not fair. It is not fair that you guys are being robbed of the greatest experience in your high school career. It is also not fair that you guys are saying an early goodbye to your final proms, dances, and to seeing each other again. It is not fair that you have to take all this suffering from COVID-19. It is not fair that you guys are stuck inside during the best time of your high school experience. You have every right to be angry, and that is fine. This is supposed to be the best time of your lives before you go out into the real world and start preparing for interviews and college. It is also not fair that you guys might miss out on your graduation, and the party that comes after it. You may feel lost, confused, or even unloved. We want you guys to know that we will always be there for you guys, no matter the ups and downs. We will always make you feel loved constantly. Stay strong class of 2020! You are always being loved, and remembered in all of our prayers. Blessings.
Inkwell Magazine Editorial Team Matthew Cabrera '21 Reed Hightower '22 Abhi Gudipati '22 Damien Morales '21 Franklin Nwora '21 Maxmilian Pham '20 Liam Smith '20 Fernando Urdaneta '21