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2 gateway voices
Introduction
The Gateway Institute for Pre-College Education oper-
ates high school programs for academically motivated
young people invested in higher education and inter-
ested in the health professions. Gateway Voices is a
journal designed to showcase the creative talents and
unique voices of these students. For this, the second
annual edition of the journal, I was deeply impressed
with the quality, quantity, and diversity of the submis-
sions we received.
Students submitted over one hundred original
works, reflecting the geographic, demographic and
creative diversity of Gateway students. Selecting
pieces for final publication proved exceedingly difficult
and without the invaluable editorial collaboration of
two dedicated Gateway students, Christian Gist and
Allan Robles, this journal would not reflect so clearly
the voices of our students. Space considerations pro-
hibited the selection of many wonderful, interesting
pieces of student writing and art. Please consult our
website (www.gateway.cuny.edu) for an expanded
selection of student work. I want to express my sin-
cere appreciation for all the work submitted by the tal-
ented group of authors and artists in the Gateway pro-
gram, especially the pieces we could not publish in
this edition of the journal.
The vibrancy and diversity of these young authors
and artists is immediately clear. Students explored a
multiplicity of styles and forms in both visual and writ-
ten work. Even amidst the exciting variety displayed in
this body of work, many students reflected on the
enduring themes of relationships, identity, and social
and political realities. Their work reveals serious con-
sideration of themselves and their environments.
Students explored the nuances of romantic, familial,
and peer relationships. They expressed the strength,
confusion, doubt, and discovery of their own identity
with striking insight and relevancy. Students present-
ed serious depictions and poignant commentary on
social realities like racism, poverty, violence, terrorism
and war. Additionally, the varied works presented
here include explorations of topics ranging from beau-
ty to health to fantastical events.
I know you will enjoy reading the writing of Gateway
student authors and looking at the work of the artists.
This journal emerged from a collaborative process and
could not have been possible without the efforts of the
Gateway Central Student Council, Site Coordinators, and
teachers who are gratefully acknowledged at the back of
this publication. I hope this journal continues to serve
as both a forum and catalyst for meaningful writing and
art by these young people.
Jessica Arnold
Farhana Islam, Jamaica High School
Class of 2005
3gateway voices
Table of Contents
IdentityAfisha Bain, Greatness 4
Syllorne Wiseman, Celebrate MyselfFarhana Islam, New Version of You 5
William Dennis, I’ve Got to be MeCorina Alexander, Destiny 6
Stephanie Rivera, UselessCecilia Besley, Confused I Stand 7
Deandra Hinds, ChangingMillicent Bynum, Millicent’s Metamorphosis 9
Christian Gist, The Light 10
Joy Newball, Art Thou Cast DownVeronica Quito, Untitled 11
Jerrod Bishop, Concrete Flower 15
SocietyFunmi Showole, A Lesson Before Dying 17
Bomopregha Julius,
What is the World Coming To? 18
Egomeli Hormeku,
How it Feels to Live and CareShaneka Caesar, The 19
Sean Pickett, SometimesMichael Olushoga, This Moment 20
Nathaniel Ford, SurvivalKimberly St. Louis, Sept. 11 23
Tiffany Richards, An AmericanWarda Zaman, Will I be Heard? 24
RelationshipsJonathan Pride,
The Opposite End of the Spectrum 25
Milredy Joseph, A Lonely Child 27
Michael Nicholson,
I Wish You Were Still Here 27
Benjamin Mendez, GoodbyeJennifer Maria, Loneliness Sinks In 28
Tavia Jackson, Single Mother 29
Jenelle Angelique Nadine Lee, Untitled 30
Aleksandra Nesterova, Don’t Know What You Have Until It’s Gone 34
Other VoicesKevon Marshall, How I Became a Angel 35
Alexia Mascall, Obesity-Linked Fast Food 38
Natalia Fredericks, Intuitional 42
Jamie Matthew, Gateway 45
Kishauna Flowers, Speechless 46
Jacqueline Marquina, The End of a Dream 47
Acknowledgements 48
The following artists contributed work that is
displayed throughout the magazine and on the cover:
Helen Aluleme, Sherman Ali, Gewan Bamasarran,
Stephanie Clebert, Nancy Castillo, Marguerite Einhorn,
Tonya Gorousingh, Yolanda Hernandez, Farhana Islam,
Surpreet Kesar, Martrina Morrison, Jacques Princival,
Harmanmeet Singh, and Tiffany Wilson.
VOICES
GATEWAY
2 0 0 3
4 gateway voices / identity
Afisha Bain
Erasmus Hall High School
Class of 2006
Greatness
When I hear the old man,
Telling stories of great deeds,
Telling of heroes of
Those ancient days,
When I hear that telling,
Then I think within me,
I too am one of these.
When I hear the people
Praising great ones,
Then I too shall be esteemed.
I too, when my time comes,
I shall do mightily.
Syllorne Wiseman
Science Skills Center High School
Class of 2006
Celebrate Myself
I am me
Wise and Wonderful
I am me
Bronze and Brave
I am me
Witty and Willing
I am me and
I will be all that I can be
No mountain too high
No valley too low
Once I am me
And I be me
I am all you will ever see
Nancy Castillo, Queens Gateway Secondary School
Class of 2008
5gateway voices / identity
William Dennis
John F. Kennedy High School
Class of 2005
I’ve got to be me
I suffer much for just being me,
I am in love with being real
So, that is why I pay such an awful fee.
Being frank and honest may never
promote me ahead,
But I possess great peace of mind when
resting upon my bed.
I dislike throwing rocks and hiding in my
hands
Or faking a smile to meet the approval
of men.
Phony folks are so numerous and real
people are so rare
Whenever you act yourself, you get
everybody’s stare.
This dog-eat-dog affair is a game the
whole world plays
While the good morals of our society are
buried under decay.
So go on my brothers, my sisters
And become what the world would have
you to be,
For I have already signed life’s comfort,
I’ve got to be me.
Farhana Islam
Jamaica High School
Class of 2005
New Version of You
New goals, new hopes, new dreams,
New thoughts, new ideas as it seems
New point of view, new understanding, a whole new
different sight,
New clothes, new taste, new style if you might.
New motivations, new taste, new style if you might.
Promptly, new unremitting miseries as it comes,
New strength, new power, new skill,
Ten more seconds to the count of three
Seven, six, five, four, three, two...
One more second before you become a new version of you.
Harmanmeet Singh, Clara Barton High School
Class of 2006
6 gateway voices / identity
Corina Alexander
John F. Kennedy High School
Class of 2005
Destiny
I say goodbye to the past
As the moments of today are flying by much too fast,
I’ll remember the things that once were and never again will be.
I’ll try to put behind me the things I’ve seen, but never again will see.
Today is but a moment that will be looked back on as the past.
The future will soon be present.
I’ll live my life only to feel just like I haven’t lived at all.
I’ll live the present with thoughts from the past I recall.
I live in the now,
But still I linger in the past somehow.
I wish there was something I could do to make
Amends with the past and a present all new,
Then that would change the future.
What is destiny anyway?
It seems to be precious moments you can say.
Our lives could be so different if we just
Took time to look at it and see.
Maybe the way it turned out was not the way
It was meant to be.
Stephanie Rivera
Port Richmond High School
Class of 2005
Useless
Everyday, every week
I feel as though I’m not me.
I’m there, skin, blood, and all,
But to everyone else, I’m just a thing.
I’m a fax machine, a printer,
Making copies of papers for people.
I’m a candy machine,
Handing lollipops, and pieces of gum,
With no fee.
I’m an answering machine,
Repeating things over and over for homework help,
Or nonsense.
I’m a thing that constantly gets used,
However, feels abused
By the ones I call friends.
But what happens to a machine or a thing
That refuses to work or maybe is broken?
It gets thrown out, or left in the corner
And collects dust
And eventually becomes useless.Stephanie Clebert, Jamaica High School
Class of 2005
7gateway voices / identity
Deandra Hinds
Jamaica High School
Class of 2004
Changing
I am caught in a whirlpool
trying to find my way.
Twirled by the world, I am
trapped in a game.
While I try to refrain from
losing myself, I find that I
am becoming someone else.
Did you ever think “you” through,
and come up lost?
Tossed emotions run through my head as
I lay here in my bed.
I try to stay ahead, but just feel caught instead.
What confusion! I wish I could find a solution.
I’ve lived with myself and no one else,
But I can not find my way.
God knows I have prayed.
Life seems unfair, but wait — I am here!
No need to shed a tear, I have to face my fear.
I am changing, life is rearranging, and
there is no total sustaining.
I am caught up in a whirlpool
trying to find my way.
I found myself, but I am not the
same as yesterday.
I am framing a better me,
and I have finally broken free!!!
Cecilia Besley
Jamaica High School
Class of 2004
Confused I Stand
As I sit here with my radio playing
at a level so disturbing,
I think about the infinite things
but yet I feel so empty.
There’s so much to do
wouldn't you agree?
But then again there’s nothing.
How fun is it to do something
when you don’t know what you’re doing?
The stars above call me every night,
the dirt paths of the ridged earth attract my
most cherished possession,
I think as much as I blink
where as every blink represents another
thought or at least a developing one,
artificial light shines in my face
mere compared to the genuine light that the
burning ball of gas
reveals when so happy
it is cold yet warm
so confused I stand.
Farhana Islam, Jamaica High School
Class of 2005
9gateway voices / identity
Millicent Bynum
John F. Kennedy High School
Class of 2003
Millicent’s Metamorphosis
When Millicent Bynum woke up one morning
From unsettling dreams,
She found herself changed in her bed
Into a cumulus cloud.
She drifted downstairs
For breakfast
And to greet her immediate family.
As usual, they ignored her presence
So she floated away from home.
And went to a place
Where she thought she would be appreciated:
AT SCHOOL.
Unfortunately, she was only welcomed
By her teachers and her true friends.
Everyone else,
Like pretentious people,
Disregarded her.
Once again she floated away.
Escaping from their negativity,
The winds managed to push her
Into the direction of her close companion.
She thought that he would fully appreciate her.
Fortunately, he cared for her and loved her.
He even understood her.
But he couldn’t appreciate her completely
Because he wasn’t too sure
About himself.
So she decided to keep him close to her heart.
In the meantime, she needed to drift away and
find solace.
Once again, she floated away.
She drifted away to a sanctuary
Full of advice and morals.
Where she learned the value of self-importance
She also learned that others won’t appreciate you
Until you appreciate yourself.
With a new approach to life,
She decided to give her loved ones
A second chance.
Once again, she floated away.
Determined to try again,
She arrived at her house.
Her family was ecstatic to see her.
Later, she learned that
They were devastated by her absence.
They even put up ads looking for her.
She thought to herself,
“You don’t know what you have, until it’s gone”
She was so encouraged by their affection,
That she decided to visit the school once more.
Once again she floated away.
On her way to school,
She passed by a reminder of the sadness and
negativity
That haunted her each day.
Not willing to give up easily,
She continued on her expedition.
She approached the ones
Who claimed to be her friends.
Unfortunately, they didn’t budge,
And continued to think negatively of her.
Showing no signs of stress,
From the pessimistic attitudes she encountered,
She continued to float away.
She managed to come back,
To her close companion.
However, he still didn’t find himself.
And wasn’t able to appreciate her completely.
But she decided to stay with him.
She thought maybe one day
He would have to go through the same process
That she went through.
She laughed at the possibility
That he may even wake up a cloud.
Thankful for her new sense of appreciation
And her big heart,
She no longer needed to feel like a cloud.
The next morning, Millicent Bynum woke up
And found herself changed
Back into a human.
10 gateway voices / identity
Joy Newball
Queens Gateway Secondary School
Class of 2003
Art Thou Cast Down
“Why art thou cast down, O my soul?”
That’s what I ask my self sometimes.
“Why am I down?” Feeling the endless night isn’t done
Like I have no oil so my light can shine.
Watching others do this to each other is heart breaking
But when you’re the one who is being persecuted
You think of answers on why they do it.
“Maybe it’s because I’m weak,” I say.
“Maybe its because I smile all day.”
“Maybe it’s because if you keep a light glowing with kindness
It disables them and this light grants them blindness.”
So the shades come down and that’s when it starts.
The darts of evil come darting to what matters 2 your
Argh!!! Is the pain that screams
With this arrow pierced in my heart, I wait,
I wait for death that has taken my conscience
My conscience waits for the life to be forgotten
Will anyone care, will they keep me there,
There in their ♥s so I can live on?
“No!!” they say, for there is anger and bitterness.
“No!!” because they are selfish and arrogant.
“No!!” because they could have something else replace it.
“No!!” because they would have a cold and faceless
♥ be in their lives, have coldness in their eyes.
Having no pity on themselves, not caring 4 any 1 else.
So that’s what happens when you’re cast down in your soul.
Don’t let it happen, don’t let it take its toll
Because it has happened to me and now I’m 2 old.
Christian Gist
Erasmus Hall High School
Class of 2004
The Light
I have been through the tunnel
And I find myself now in the light.
I’ve passed through many struggles
That have shaped the way I am.
Many things have inflicted pain,
Some others inflicted sorrow,
A few have caused distress,
While others destroyed me in total.
But now I see the light,
That beautiful shining light,
That has caressed me with its warmth
And has renewed me inside.
This light has healed my many pains.
This light has healed my wounds.
Its warmth has kept me living,
Its clarity has purified my whole.
I would never leave this light
Because it has brought me great joy.
It has taken everything that bothered me
And happiness, to my life it has brought.
Stephanie Clebert, Jamaica High School
Class of 2005
11gateway voices / identity
Veronica Quito
Bayard Rustin High School
for the Humanities
Class of 2005
Untitled
Skateboard. An unfamiliar term to me.
It was my brother’s gift from my par-
ents on Christmas day. He barely used
it; he kept it in his closet. The wheels
were an off-white with dirt here and
there. To him, it was a wooden plank
with wheels and of no use. That
wooden plank would turn out to be a
turning point in my life.
“Clean your room!” my mother
yells for the second time.
“Yeah yeah,” I call out. I was get-
ting sick of being yelled at. It was a
beautiful Saturday morning and
already there was discord.
“You have three seconds!
One…two…if I count to three and
you’re not in your room..!”
“Fine I’ll go now!” I say.
I get up and head towards the back
of the apartment. As light floods into
my room, I see the scattered remains
of an art project. Paint spills, brushes,
and bits of wood and glue all cover
the tiled floor. I pick my way across
the floor, being careful not to slip on anything. As I
lean on a wooden plank to jump across a pile of paint-
ed wood bits, the plank suddenly collapses and sends
me directly into the pile. I lay on the floor, blinking a
mile a minute, trying to figure out how I got from up
there to down here. I slowly raise myself up and notice
that I’m painted from head to toe. I pick up the plank
and, surprise surprise, it wasn’t a plank. It was my
brother’s old skateboard. Frustrated, I throw it under-
neath my bed, already packed with boxes.
“Freaking skateboard,” I mutter.
“What’s going on?” my mother asks, coming into
the mess that was my room.
“What is this thing doing here,” I ask, “isn’t this
Miguel’s?”
“Yes but there is nowhere else to keep it, so it’ll
have to stay here,” my mother responds.
“Might as well make use of it. What do you think
will happen if I do this?” I ask my mother, as I grab
the skateboard and jump on.
Bad move. Not only does the skateboard fly from
under my feet but I also fly from the skateboard and hit
my head on my bedpost. My mother scrambles over.
“Are you all right?” she asks with a worried expres-
sion on her face.
”I’ll be fine,” I mutter, trying my best to remain con-
scious. “That’s the second time I’ve fallen because of
this skateboard,” I comment.
“Well, when you finish cleaning your room you can tell
me how you fell the first time, you hear?” my mother says.
Farhana Islam, Jamaica High School
Class of 2005
12 gateway voices / identity
“I’ll do that,” I say warily.
Once I am done cleaning my room, I pick up the
skateboard and examine it minutely. “Everything
seems to be in place. Nothing is loose, missing or in
any other way wrong,” I say to myself. I put the skate-
board down once more.
“This time I won’t jump on.” I carefully put my right
foot at the front of the skateboard like I had seen pros
do on TV. The skateboard wobbles a bit and then
stops. I then lean on my desk and place my left foot
on it. Right at that instant my mother walks in and
startles me. I fall off and again hit the floor.
“Wait until the summer when you can actually go
outside and learn,” my mother suggests.
“No. It’s now or never. I will learn how to use this
thing,” I respond angrily.
She backs out of my room and I continue trying to
pick myself up.
“All right, you board. I will learn how to use you,
even if I break my head in the process. You will not
succeed in making me afraid of you and continue
using valuable space in my room. Be prepared you old
thing,” I warn the skateboard.
I get up on it and as soon as I do the skateboard
tips side to side.
“You won’t bring me down,” I tell the skateboard.
Well, it did. It brought me down so hard that I
thought I broke my skull. I had hit the corner of my
wooden desk.
“Aaaarrrggghhh!!!! You freaking *@#^!” I call out.
I quickly scramble up and once again I try it out. I
have to admit that I have a very stubborn and per-
sistent character, which is the only reason that I am
continuing to risk breaking my limbs. I fall approxi-
mately fifteen times before dinner and about five
times before I go to bed. To me it seems as if I am
making a bloopers movie because of all the falls.
Unfortunately, I can’t practice again until tomorrow
afternoon because I have Sunday school and then
mass to go to. So I’ll wait until then…
I am here standing next to the skateboard. So far, I
haven’t done anything yet with it. I’m just merely look-
ing at it. All right already. It’s time to get busy.
“Here I go!” I yell.
I quickly get in the mood and jump on the skate-
board, forgetting what happened last time I did that.
“Hey I didn’t fall!” I cry, surprised. “Woohoo!”
The skateboard begins to slowly roll, while I con-
centrate on keeping my balance by locking my knees.
“Don’t do that,” my father says as he steps in my
room, “you’ll hurt your knees.”
Really,” I ask worried, “I will?”
“Yes. It’s too much pressure on your knees and
you’ll probably fall faster than if you bend them a lit-
tle. Here, let me show you.”
He helps me off the board and blows into his
hands, then rubs them.
“OK, here I go. One, two, three!” he hops on, like
I did, and nearly falls.
He somehow manages to balance himself and looks
up at me, smiling.
“Look at my knees. See how they are bent? That’s
how you have to have them in order to keep your bal-
ance,” he says, shaking because it was his first time
on a skateboard.
“Ok, let me try,” I say eagerly, wanting to try this
new method. He hops off just in time before the skate-
board decides to take off.
“Whew, close one,” he says, exasperated. I jump
on, and, keeping my knees bent, begin to roll back
and forth like a mad woman.
“Look at me go!” I yell, a little too loudly.
“That’s good. Now try to go from here to there,” he
says while pointing to the far end of the room where
my mother’s old sewing machine was.
“You think I can make it that far?” I ask, whimpering.
“Don’t worry, you’ll do fine. Now go on.” He gently
puts his hands on my back and pushes me.
Even before I get halfway to the sewing machine the
skateboard begins to wobble side to side and then sud-
denly stops. I fall flat on my face and, somehow, man-
age to hit my head in the process. I can’t believe this
wood thing can cause so much pain, I think to myself.
What I actually say to my father is a different thing.
“Great fall, huh?”
“Yeah honey, but don’t do it again or you’ll be in
pain,’ he says wisely.
I get on again, this time with a different purpose, to
keep my balance on the skateboard without rolling
around. This is going to take a while.
I had spoken to my friend Arlene previously and she
had given me some tips on how to successfully take
control over the board. “Bend your knees a little so
you’ll have better balance. And don’t forget to wear a
helmet. You seem to have the tendency to hit your
head too much,” Arlene had said.
14 gateway voices / identity
But of course, I never learn without it happening to
me directly. So I don’t wear protection and I don’t
bend my knees. But I still manage to increase my
speed on the skateboard. Pretty soon I’ll be flying, I
think to myself, smiling.
Since the board obviously seems to have a tenden-
cy to stop suddenly, I suspect it will stop during this
practice hour as well. Everything is going great so far,
so I’ll I try not to jinx it. Too late.
“Aaaahh!” I cry as the skateboard stops and sends
me toward the cold floor. Thud. I gasp from the pain
as I try to sit up.
“I hit my back pretty badly,” I say to my mother,
who had come in to see what all the noise was about.
“Here, let me help you up,” my mother offers, try-
ing her best to balance out the load of laundry she
had in her hands in order to help me up.
“Thank you… oh god, the pain!” I cry as I feel the
hot rush of blood come pounding at my sides.
“You’re not getting on that skateboard ever again
until summertime comes. I don’t want you to break
anything, you hear? You’re my daughter and I don’t
want anything to happen to you.”
My ideas are different, however. I don’t intend to
stop until I have fully gained control over the skate-
board and can walk proudly, saying that I too skate-
board. It is my goal for the present moment. This is
no longer about giving an old skateboard use. It’s
about wanting to see how much I can resist as the
stubborn, persistent, but most importantly, strong-
willed young lady that I am. I want to resist the easy
way in life and the laziness that can consume me
when I’m in the lowest points of my life. I no longer
am that girl who takes everything as it comes and
does nothing for it until the last minute. I am now that
young lady who prepares for what’s coming and does
everything under her power to prevent any unpleasant
situations that come her way. This is who I became
after I learned the technique of skateboarding. Thanks
to my good friend Arlene, who was my verbal skate-
boarding coach, I learned the satisfactory feeling you
get when you are one of the few girls who know how
to skateboard in a certain environment. I am not one
of the preppy girls with nothing on their minds
besides makeup and boys. I am now one of the few
privileged girls who can grab a wooden plank and go
out and have fun. I have made new friends from
Yeshiva University who also skateboard. I hang out
with them on most Fridays and sometimes Saturdays.
The idea is for me to have good, clean fun while
enjoying my youth to the fullest. I thank my parents
for giving me support and lifting me up when I was
down (literally). Most importantly, I won’t feel left out
when Arlene talks about her experiences skateboard-
ing because now I have some of my own. I also thank
that great tomboy friend of mine (Arlene De la Cruz)
who helped me along in her own crazy way. In con-
clusion, I would like to say that I hope you grasped
the meaning behind my essay: that one should never
go to sleep thinking one is a failure; even better, wake
up every day believing you are a success. ■
Farhana Islam, Jamaica High School
Class of 2005
15gateway voices / identity
Jerrod Bishop
Port Richmond High School
Class of 2005
Concrete Flower
I’m different from the other flowers in
the garden
I’m the flower that nobody wants
All of the other flowers grow from the
rich soil
But
I’m a flower who grew from the con-
crete
Even though my petals are tarnished
and I lean to the side
I’m proud because
No other flower from the concrete has
grown as tall as me
Even though people don’t want a con-
crete flower I think
I’m beautiful.
Tiffany Wilson, Port Richmond High School
Class of 2003
17gateway voices / society
Funmi Showole
Port Richmond High School
Class of 2004
A Lesson Before Dying
Their eyes stare right through me,
My face they do not see.
For I am just a black man,
With no pride or dignity.
They say that I don’t matter,
That my life’s not worth a cent.
And no gods can save me,
My time on earth is spent.
I swear I didn’t do it,
I swear it wasn’t me.
I would lead them to the truth,
But they refuse to see.
They claim I am an animal,
So they’ve locked me in this cage.
They paint me as a monster,
Who cannot control his rage.
They have determined my future,
They have set the date.
It’s now my execution,
That they eagerly await.
They think that they can kill me,
That my life they can take.
They actually think that my heart,
Is possible to break.
Who do they think they are?
Trying to play God?
For my life can be over,
With just one simple nod.
Yes, they can take my body,
But they can never take my soul.
It refuses to be buried,
Into a six-foot hole.
So put these bars around me.
Seat me in that chair.
Do the worst that you can do,
I simply do not care.
You say my life is over?
Oh no, it’s just begun.
Yes, you took this battle,
But the war I have won.
You see, you tried to kill me,
But now you realize,
That a spirit lives forever,
A spirit never dies.
And while I am in Heaven,
Your eternity is Hell.
For by killing me,
You’ve created your own cell.
Marguerite Einhorn, Brooklyn Technical High School
Class of 2003
18 gateway voices / society
Egomeli Hormeku
Science Skills Center High School
Class of 2005
How it Feels to Live and Care
The first sixteen years of my "life," I stood
And now I stand…
In the same changes of the world that we
thought we could,
To find out we can't.
With the same bad blueprints we use to erase
the past,
Followed by raves and rants,
Will only damage the iron-lunged world more
that we are at last,
Until its last pant.
Why does it seem that the people of old,
So long gone
Have more answers than the people of young,
Still strong
To learn from their mistakes as well as the
others?
Killing another with another melanin is still
killing your brother.
Killing for power will devour our morals
It's so clear.
When did it become politically correct to use
threats by calling it justice to instill fear?
Yeah, there are some questions
But then again
There are some answers and it's up to us to
find.
The only thing that's better than the button
for rewind
Is a blank tape with enough space to change
our minds.
The first sixteen years of my "life" I stood
And now I stand…
In the same changes of the world that we
thought could,
To find out we can …….in one second.
Bomopregha Julius
Science Skills Center High School
Class of 2005
What Is The World Coming To?
What is the world coming to?
Is it coming to a complete stop that is inevitable
Or is it just taking a break to make mankind realize
our mistakes
Slowly as we destroy it?
It turns and turns giving us night and day, but what
if one day the night and day never comes?
The atmosphere of the earth is getting too clogged
with human emotions
Especially tensions that will get us nowhere.
It is so easy to resolve the problem with one single
weapon
But is not as easy to just take a step back and
realize what we are doing.
They say we are the future
But for some reason if there is no future, where
does it leave us as the youth of tomorrow?
So I ask you again
What is the world coming to?
Jacques Princival, Science Skills High School
Class of 2005
19gateway voices / society
Shaneka Caesar
Erasmus Hall High School
Class of 2006
The
The people,
The terror,
The man in the mirror,
The crimes,
The rules,
The times,
The schools,
The youth,
The deaths,
The truth,
The days, weeks, months and years,
The racism,
The tears,
The long walks,
The talks,
The parents,
The kids,
The arguments,
The runaways,
And the strays,
The long days,
And the years,
The sadness,
The one who cares,
The friend,
The violence,
The END.
Sean Pickett
Bayard Rustin High School for the Humanities
Class of 2006
Sometimes
Sometimes I wonder why I was born
How this earth will be when I am gone
In life things don’t always go good
When you’re living in a bad neighborhood.
Where people are shooting, thieves are stealing,
Poor mothers can hardly take care of their children.
Sometimes I dream this will all stop,
People won’t sell drugs and won’t run from the cops.
We will not push and shove
Forget to hate and begin to love,
We’ll stop hanging out on the streets.
And maybe the world will come to peace.
Sometimes I wish we were all friends.
We’d never lose and always win.
We’d all have jobs, make lots of money,
Laugh together when something is funny.
I wish I could visit the moon,
But sometimes, some things don’t always come true.
Surpreet Kesar, Queens Gateway Secondary School
Class of 2004
20 gateway voices / society
Nathaniel Ford
Jamaica High School
Class of 2006
Survival
Everyday when I walk down the streets
All I see is tragedy and violence
Police sirens and cops
No sudden single silence
It’s a crazy world out here
Trying to get to the narrow world of survival
But it’s going to be tough,
Like a game against an arch rival
In order to survive
We’re gonna have to do it together
Because war is not a joke
And its after-effect lasts forever
I truly believe that the world can resolve problems
Without taking a life
We can sit at a table and talk
Without guns or knives
War and fighting all the time
It’s not really a resolution
We should take time to ourselves
Just think of a solution
Many younger kids in the world
Don’t understand what’s going on right now
There are a lot of ways we can solve problems
All you have to do is ask yourself how
Many people today are scared
Wishing the threat of war would slowly abort
But it’s not likely
So we need everybody’s support.
Maybe this war will make our nation better
But it’s going to be a rough future, so we need to
stick together.
Michael Olushoga
Adlai E. Stevenson High School
Class of 2004
This Moment
The dreams of life are seen in reality.
Each second, I see hatred brewed in homes,
where children raise hands against parents,
Each minute, I see the desensitization by television,
caused by repeated violence seen in society,
Each hour, I see the rich robbing the poor,
in ways unfathomable.
Each day, I see the exploitation of others,
by those who have lost their sense of compassion.
Each week, I see the destruction of our planet,
by greedy and selfish corporations.
Each month, I see the judgment of character through skin color,
yet, the world is shared by all.
Each year, I see starving children around the world,
yet, billions are spent on warheads creating nuclear death showers,
Each moment: whether it be second, minute, hour, day, week, month, year,
I see the dreams of life in reality.
21gateway voices / society
Orin Cameron
Port Richmond High School
Class of 2005
Heroes
America, the country for red, blue and
white.
Country of peace, liberty and freedom.
Challenged those who reversed the world’s
rotation.
Those who alter the lives of many others.
For years, new souls come into this world
Thinking that invincibility was a trait of
this bond,
Not knowing that this country is as
defenseless as the scum of the sickest
of countries
Opens as a leader, strong and tall
Start to crumble as panic starts to rise.
Two symbols have been abolished from
pure existence
Never to be seen nor duplicated.
Such gruesome creatures would do us so
After all we have done, we have been
stabbed in woeful hearts.
Men rushed to keep spirits alive, not
knowing if they would survive.
Many people tip their hats to their fearless
efforts in such harsh times
Local people become heroes of the world.
A world struggling to keep peace, liberty,
and freedom.
Tiffany wilson, Port richmond High School
Class of 2003
23gateway voices / society
Tiffany Richards
Lafayette High School
Class of 2006
An American
The land of the free it is called
Back then that wasn’t true at all
Treated with oppression, disrespect and bigotry
Because of some brave African Americans
We can all live in peace and be happy
People being free to do what we want
The people of America we are strong
We are proud to be true Americans
Kimberly St.Louis
Jamaica High School
Class of 2006
Sept 11
It was a day that we’d all remember
It was the eleventh day of September
On that day there was a threat to the U.S.
and we wonder what could have started this mess?
Power is what it’s all about
Power is what they want without a doubt
But how many lives do we have to lose?
What if you had to choose?
1 million, 2 million, 3 million, 4?
Your father, your brother, the one you adore?
These events only lead to pain and hate that are
escalating at a high rate
Going to war won’t make it right
These problems can be resolved without a fight
War will only lead to more misery
Deceased heroes will become a part of history
The truth is that man is his own worst enemy
How could he ever be a friend to me?
If war continues 9/11 will just be the beginning
It’s not all about losing or winning
What’s more important, losing power or lives?
Many of these men leave behind wives.
Martin Luther King preached “free at last, free at last”
That is now a thing of the past.
But when will we be free from war?
When will there be war no more?
Our heroes never forgotten.
Tiffany Wilson, Port Richmond High School
Class of 2003
24 gateway voices / society
Warda Zaman
Adlai E. Stevenson High School
Class of 2004
Will I be heard?
I sit here helpless, quiet and breathless
I sit and ponder that which makes me wonder and fills me with anger
I sit and ask myself what is the purpose, what are the consequences?
Is going to war the only solution we have?
Where did all the Nobel Peace Prize winners go and the negotiators
disappear to and the scholars hide?
Where did all the concepts run away in this season of Non-Violence?
Do we think of Gandhi, Dr. King and Mother Teresa's lives only when
we are asked to?
Do we learn about their beliefs to keep them in memory for a few
hours of our lives or do we recall their deeds and appreciate them
without learning anything?
What is the point of learning history when the mistakes are repeated
over and over again?
What thrill does the future hold now as the world is plunged into
discontentment over unjustifiable matters?
What is the explanation for this beside the greediness of mankind and
the display of powerless power, the possession of strength by a
black sheep?
As millions of voices around the world shout out a protest cry
As the voices wish to decide through democracy, their opinions are
shunned...they are ignored.
The so-called freedom of speech is completely abolished and it walks
like a lame man, sees like a blind man and speaks like a mute.
The tyrant has come to power; a dictator is on the rise here in the
guise of a savior
O God! Help us find the ways that will keep us far from going astray.
O God! Give people around me righteousness, give them
consciousness of the surrounding that they have ignored all this
time, and give them reasoning.
After all, these are what separate us from being savage animals, wild
beasts that tear each other apart
After all, we are human beings, we are chosen by Him as superior of
all beings. We have the power to begin a conflict and end it, too.
This is going through everyone's mind at present; this is leading them
to speak up.
Will this all be heard?
This is what I wonder, as I sit here and ponder.
Farhana Islam, Jamaica High School
Class of 2005
25gateway voices / relationships
Jonathan Pride
Port Richmond High School
class of 2003
The Opposite End of the Spectrum
I was always the athletic one
Receiver of unlimited fame
While he was always the loner
Silenced by his unspeakable shame.
I was offered special opportunities
He was simply ignored
Forgotten in the darkest of times
Hope, never restored.
I excelled academically through high school
While being elected president of my grade
A prominent figure in the history of the school
My memory, never to fade.
He, on the other hand, was different,
Sat in the rear of the class
Never really popular
Always forgotten and picked last.
I tried to have an optimistic outlook
On the troubles life dished me
He, however, was opposite
Always responding negatively.
During graduation, he signed my yearbook
With an extremely powerful note
The pain and anguish from within his soul
Was displayed on his face as he wrote.
“Dear Mr. President
I hope you enjoy your life.
I pray you’ll never be forced to endure
Unbearable pain or strife.
Your life is already better off
Than most average people you find
You’ll actually be astonished to discover
How far they’re really behind.
If you encounter someone less fortunate
Or maybe someone from your past
Don’t make a mockery of their situation
Or think to yourself and laugh.
You have no idea of life’s difficulties
Only good things you choose to see
Can you even try to imagine
Living your life like me?
Forgotten, forsaken, ignored
Always pushed to the side
Told that I was worthless
Too ashamed to even cry.
So when you rejoice in your glories
Think about those who fight for a crumb
And try to view the entire world
From the opposite end of the spectrum.”
He shook my hand and rose to his feet
Handing me my closed yearbook
And walked away with tears in his eyes
Displaying a helpless look.
To express the thoughts that ran through my
head
No words could ever define
Although he killed himself later that night,
His message was permanently etched in my mind.
27gateway voices / relationships
Benjamin Mendez
Lafayette High School
Class of 2004
Goodbye
With sadness in my eyes
And tears close to coming
I say goodbye
With hatred in my heart
And fear in my hands
With love dying slowly
I say goodbye
With unwanted loads
Of guilt and tragedy
I say goodbye
With me changing
From good to bad
From loving to hating
I say goodbye
With all sympathy
And remorse gone
I say goodbye
With no feeling
But the feeling of hate
And ill-will
I say goodbye
With every dying moment
I wait and
I say goodbye.
Milredy Joseph
Clara Barton High School
Class of 2006
A Lonely Child
Who was that child that sat alone,
Who had no friendship that began,
Who wondered why,
Who couldn’t lie?
Who was that child,
Who was quiet and mild,
Who tried to fit in,
Who they wouldn’t let in?
Who was that child,
Who wished he was fun and wild,
Who wanted to be with the in crew,
But who nobody knew?
Who was that child?
Do you know?
I know I do,
That child was…
If you ever find him,
Please talk to him
Be a friend
And give him a hand.
Michael Nicholson
Jamaica High School
Class of 2006
I Wish You Were Still Here
Two weeks every summer,
I looked toward it all year,
I miss you so much,
I wish you were still here.
I didn’t come last summer,
Now I wish that I were there,
So I could have a little fun with you,
I wish you were still here.
Everyone really misses you,
it’s hard without you here,
But you are in a better place,
But I wish you were still here.
When I left last time you told me be strong and don’t ever cry,
But when I heard what happened I couldn’t hold it back,
You would understand if you were there,
It hurts so much; I wish you were still here.
28 gateway voices / relationships
Jennifer Maria
Bayard Rustin High School for the Humanities
Class of 2006
Loneliness Sinks In
Loneliness sinks in.
Thoughts of them start to begin,
If only I could turn back time
Then maybe it would spare this heart of mine.
I wish I could have them back.
Then maybe it would heal every crack.
I sit and try not to cry.
But trying is useless so I cry.
Losing two people I care for so much.
Losing them without a touch.
If only I could tell them how I feel
Then they’d understand that my feelings are real.
I wish I could have them here
To help get through my biggest fear:
Being alone with no one to hold,
Being alone facing the cold.
But now I lost them forever
But I won’t stop remembering them, not ever.
Farhana Islam, Jamaica High School
Class of 2005
Tavia Jackson
Erasmus Hall High School
Class of 2005
Single Mother
They were together for a year
She bore him a child and 9 months later he arrives
He left her to raise him all alone
She was unsure of what she was going to do
She looked at her options and made some choices
She chose to do this on her own
Knew she would be wrong to ask her mother for help
23 years old and already a single mother
The workload she had to do
Work and take care of a child
She did everything that her mother had taught her; feed, clothe, and love the baby
One year later she tells her mother of the struggle that she made as a single mother
Mama said baby you done good and I will too
By helping you out with my grandson Drew
He is already one and she is managing, but she hurts because she feels the other’s pain.
Now he is five and wild just like any other child
But he’s been taught right from wrong
And knows how she feels as a single mom
He is getting older doing well in school
Avoids the bad crowd and has been crowned
Single mom’s first child graduates with honors
His dad never came to see him and now wants to
She told him no and said that she is a single mother,
he only has one parent
Her son says let me see him ma
Because I have something to say
“Do you even know what it is like being raised by one parent?
You never cared about me but she did and she raised me
on her own
She is not just a single mother but she represents all mothers
who have taken care of their children without a father
And when she’s older, I will do the same.”
Stephanie Clebert, Jamaica High School
Class of 2005
30 gateway voices / relationships
Jenelle Angelique Nadine Lee
Brooklyn Technical High School
Class of 2003
Untitled
“Strumming my pain with his fingers,
Singin’ my life with his words,
Killing me softly with his song,
Killing me softly,
With his song
Telling my whole life
With his words,
Killing me softly.” ✻
“Oh Lauryn, you sure know how I’m feeling” said
Jacquelyn to herself. She was sitting in her room, eat-
ing ice cream, and drowning her sorrows in some
music. Her door was closed, the blinds were drawn,
and the lights were down low. To Jacquelyn, this was
the worst day of her life. As she thought back on how
it all began, tears began to form in her eyes…
*******************************
It was the first day of school, and excitement was in
the air. Everyone was talking, and smiles were on
every face. The students at Metropolitan High School
were all dressed in their best “school” outfits, fresh
from their summer vacation. As the students migrated
to their prefects, the guys checked out the girls, and
the girls admired the boys. In prefect SC3T, Jacquelyn
was excitedly talking with her two friends Simone and
Jessica. The teacher, Ms. Alchiada, was desperately try-
ing to capture the attention of the students. As the
chatter slowly died down, the classroom door opened,
and in stepped Jason McDowell. He was caramel-
skinned, with beautiful brown eyes, and had a smile
to die for. His outfit was perfectly coordinated, all the
way down to his sneakers. The attention that was pre-
viously focused on the teacher was now focused on
him. All eyes were on him, especially those of the
female students. As Jason found a seat in the class-
room, Jacquelyn whispered to her friends, “Damn, I
would love to meet him.”
(3 Months Later)
The school gymnasium was decorated with paper
snowflakes, and fake snow was everywhere. The music
was blaring, and the room was packed. The air was
stuffy, and was filled with the aroma of perfume,
sweat, and excitement. As Jacquelyn entered the gym-
nasium, she quickly scanned the crowd for Simone
and Jessica. As her eyes grazed the crowd, she sight-
ed Jason McDowell. He was standing with a group of
his friends, and was looking as cute as ever. Their
eyes met, and it seemed as if time stopped. He
winked at her, and then broke their connection by
looking away. As Jacquelyn regained her composure,
she saw her two friends across the room. As she
walked towards them, their eyes were frantically ques-
tioning her, asking, “What was that about?” When she
reached her friends, they bombarded her with ques-
tions like, “Was that Jason talking to you?” “What did
he want with you?”, and “You talk to him now?” To
which she answered with a simple, “He winked at
me.” She told them how their eyes happened to meet,
and as they relished the news, Jacquelyn turned
around to see where the object of her attention was
standing. He was in the same spot, only this time he
was facing her, and was staring deep into her eyes.
Jacquelyn’s breath caught in her throat, and her heart
began doing a techno beat in her chest as he started
to walk towards her. He stopped shortly in front of her
and said, “Can I talk to you for a minute?” She turned
to face her friends, and wanted to scream, but instead
gave a smile, and answered Jason with a cool, “sure.”
As they exited the gymnasium, Jacquelyn caught a
glimpse of Jason’s friends, who were all smiles. The
two talked for a while, and later returned to the
dance. However, instead of returning to their separate
groups of friends, Jason led her to the center of the
crowd on the dance floor. He placed his hands on her
hips, and they began to move. At first it was awkward,
and Jacquelyn was obviously nervous, but after the
first song, they were moving as one.
Jacquelyn and Jason danced together for the rest of
the night, and exchanged phone numbers afterwards.
When Jacquelyn arrived home later that evening, she
was grinning from ear to ear, and was humming the
Fugees remake of “Killing Me Softly.” It was the song
that was playing when she was dancing with Jason, and
was a song that she would never forget. That night,
Jacquelyn slept peacefully, and with a smile on her face.
Over the next few months, Jacquelyn and Jason spent
more time with each other. After school, they hung out
together, and traveled home with each other. Although
31gateway voices / relationships
their relationship wasn’t official, the two of them were
known as a couple. However, as is common in many
high schools, there was a group of girls who loved to
hate. At Metropolitan High, this specific group included
three girls by the names of Trisha, Shauna, and
Alexandra. They were pretty, and always wore the most
expensive outfits. If there was any new style, they had
it weeks before it came out in the stores. They always
got all the guys but were never satisfied. This was espe-
cially true of the ringleader Trisha, who had her eyes on
Jason. Ever since the winter dance, Trisha did not like
Jacquelyn. She always gave her the evilest of looks, and
said anything and everything untrue about her. Although
Jacquelyn was the passive type, and never let Trisha
bother her, she was always aware of her and her crew.
One day, after leaving Jason, Jacquelyn went over to
join her friends. When she was near them Simone said,
“Ooh Jackie, Trisha is grillin’ you.” She turned around
to find Trisha giving her one of her evil looks. Trisha
then shouted, “What?” To which Jacquelyn responded
by saying, “I just wanted to know why you’re all up in
my face.” Simone and Jessica laughed in the back-
ground, and couldn’t help but say, “Yeah, back up
Trisha, let her breathe!” Jacquelyn then said, “I don’t
see a sign inviting Ms. Trisha into our conversation.”
“Excuse me?” asked Trisha, stepping forward.
“You heard me,” replied Jacquelyn, also stepping
forward.
“I think you better watch your mouth. I don’t know
who you think you are since you’re always hanging
around Jason.”
“Sweetie, don’t be jealous because you mean noth-
ing to him.”
“Like you do? You don’t even know that he’s play-
ing you right in your face,” to which Alexandra said, “I
know that’s right.”
“Whatever, y’all are full of it.”
“Oh really? Why don’t you go ask Jason, Jackie,”
said Trisha.
“Why don’t you shut your mouth, and stop talking
trash,” answered Jessica.
“Oh don’t worry, I’ll just let Jackie find out on her own.”
“Whatever.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
With that, both groups turned and walked away,
Trisha with a smirk on her face, and Jacquelyn with a
scowl on hers. On her way home, Jacquelyn couldn’t
help but think about Trisha’s words.
“You don’t think she’s right do you?” she asked her
friends.
“You know Trisha’s just jealous.”
“Yeah, she’s hatin’,” said Simone.
“I know, but Alexandra does go out with Jason’s
friend…”
“Who, Andre?” asked Simone.
“Well, why don’t you find out then?” asked Jessica.
“Yeah, go ask Jason what’s up,” agreed Simone.
That night, Jacquelyn couldn’t concentrate on her
homework, and finally decided to call Jason. She let
the conversation warm up before asking him about
what had been on her mind all day.
“Jason?”
“Yeah?”
“I heard something about you that I wanted to
know about.”
“What’s that?”
“Well, I heard that you were playing me.”
There was slight pause.
“Playing you? Who said that?”
“Does it really matter? Is it true or not?”
“Umm, listen Jackie, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.”
“But Jason…”
Before Jacquelyn could even finish her sentence,
Jason hung up. However, instead of getting mad, she
Marguerite Einhorn, Brooklyn Technical High
School Class of 2003
32 gateway voices / relationships
was struck by a feeling of dread. She immediately
called Simone and said, “Something is going on…”
***************************
About a week had passed since Jacquelyn confront-
ed Jason, and she still hadn’t received an answer. She
tried to ignore it, and tried to keep it out of her
thoughts. It almost worked…
One day after school, Jacquelyn was waiting for
Simone and Jessica at the front entrance. Simone had
just joined her, and the two were waiting for Jessica
when they spotted her rushing towards them.
“Jacquelyn, I have to tell you something now.”
“What is it?”
“It’s about Jason, and I don’t think you’re gonna like
it very much.”
“You better tell me right now…”
“Well, I was just talking to Jason and his cute friend
Trey…”
“And?”
“And we were just having a normal conversation
when Andre came up to Trey and said, “Son, lemme find
out you’re messing with this girl, just like “J” is mess-
ing with Jackie.” Then he turns to Jason and says, “I
didn’t think you’d last this long with Jackie, man. I fig-
ured this bet would only go on for about a week or so.
You’re sucking my money dry!” I mean, he completely
forgot that I was standing right there”, said Jessica.
“A bet?” Asked Jacquelyn.
“That’s what it seems like”, said her friend.
“What did Jason say?”
“He told Trey to shut up, then told me he’d talk to
me later.”
“So that night at the dance…he did it all as a bet?”
asked Jacquelyn, obviously hurt.
“That bastard,” said Simone. “Who does he think
he is?”
“Jackie, you better go handle this right now.”
“I know, I know. I’m going.”
The trio headed towards where Jessica had seen
Jason and his friends. He saw them coming and tried
to prepare for what was imminent.
“Jason, I gotta talk to you,” said Jacquelyn.
“Yeah, I figured you would.”
“Go handle your business man,” said Trey.
Jacquelyn turned and glared at him, and he imme-
diately backed off. The two moved away from the
group and Jacquelyn asked,
“Have you been going out with me, pretending to
like me because of a bet?”
“At first, yeah.”
“AT FIRST???”
“At the dance…”
“Forget it. It’s OVER.”
“But you didn’t even listen to me.”
“Why should I? You lied to me.”
“Jackie, c’mon.”
“NO, it’s over. Have fun with your damn money.”
She then walked away with Simone and Jessica
behind her. They asked her if she was all right, and
she nodded quickly. However, as soon as they were
out of Jason’s sight, Jacquelyn burst into tears. Her
shoulders heaved, and her sobs were loud and hard.
She was deeply hurt, and her friends couldn’t even
think of what to say that would comfort her. They
walked her home, and promised to call her later that
night. Once inside her house, Jacquelyn exhaled a long
sigh, and treated herself to some ice cream.
*************************
“Strumming my pain with his fingers,
Singin’ my life with his words,
Killing me softly with his song,
Killing me softly,
With his song
Telling my whole life
With his words,
Killing me softly.”
“Oh Lauryn, you sure know how I’m feeling” said
Jacquelyn to herself. She was sitting in her room, eating
ice cream, and drowning her sorrows in some music. Her
door was closed, the blinds were drawn, and the lights
were down low. To Jacquelyn, this was the worst day of
her life. She closed her eyes, and tried to erase the day’s
happenings. As she thought back on how it all began,
tears began to form, and slowly fell from her eyes. Her
head began to pound, and she tried to fall asleep.
Suddenly, the phone rang. Slowly, Jacquelyn rolled over
and answered the phone with a weak “hello.”
“Hi Jackie.”
Her heart almost stopped.
“Jackie, this is Jason.”
Acting on an impulse, Jacquelyn hung up the
phone. She rolled back over, asking herself, “Why is
33gateway voices / relationships
that fool calling me?” Although she was angry, she
was half hoping that he would call back. The phone
then rang again. With trembling hands, she picked up
and listened.
“Jackie, I deserved that but I really think you should
hear me out.”
“I’m listening,” she answered.
“At the dance, I saw you come in and I purposely
made eye contact with you. I thought you were cute,
and wanted to let you know that. Then Trey said, “I
bet you wouldn’t go up and dance with her.” So since
I already wanted to dance with you I had no problems
taking him up on that. I really had fun dancing with
you, but he wouldn’t believe me. When we started
hanging out together, he was convinced that I was still
doing it because he dared me to. There really was no
bet, and I really do like you. Please forgive me…I real-
ly care about you.”
Jacquelyn was touched beyond control. But she still
wasn’t sure if she should believe Jason. Sensing this,
he said,
“If it helps, I had this big argument with Trey over you.
Trey is a good friend, but I really do care about you.”
Unable to withstand it any longer, Jacquelyn said, “I
believe you, and I care about you too. It made me so
mad when I found out about it, especially since I
found out from Trisha.”
“I know, and I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay, but you better not try anything like that
again.”
“I promise I won’t.”
“Good” , she said smiling.
“Jackie?”
“Yeah?”
“Look out your window.”
She did, and there was Jason McDowell, caramel-
skinned, with beautiful brown eyes, and the smile to
die for. As she opened her window she thought,
“Maybe today wasn’t so bad after all.” ■
Supreet Kesar, Queens Gateway Secondary School
Class of 2005
✻ KILLING ME SOFTLY WITH HIS SONG, Charles Fox, Norman Gimbel, Rodali Music (BMI),
(Administered by Sony/ATV Songs LLC) Fox-Gimbel Productions, Inc. (BMI)
Copyright 1973 Rodali Music and Fox-Gimbel Productions, Inc. All rights on behalf of Rodali
Music administered by Sony/ATV Music Publishing, 8 Music Square West, Nashville, TN 37203.
All rights reserved. Used by permission.
34 gateway voices / relationships
Aleksandra Nesterova
Lafayette High School
Class of 2005
Don’t know what you have until it’s gone
Suddenly you love me. Suddenly you care.
Suddenly you miss me and how it used to be.
Now there’s a new guy standing here with me.
Now you feel how I had felt when you had turned away.
Now you feel the pain that I had lived with day by day.
You need to get over it. Need to forget.
You need to believe it I’m only a friend.
You had your chance. You threw it away.
Now you’re the one alone at the end of the day.
You’re regretting every moment.
All the mean things that you said,
And regret what you have done.
You should have known
You never know what you have until it’s gone.
Stephanie Clebert, Jamaica High School
Class of 2005
35gateway voices / other voices
Kevon Marshall
Clara Barton High School
Class of 2006
How I Became an Angel
Not long ago, I was a regular fifteen-year old child help-
ing my mother tend the garden. I remember laughing and
joking with my friends while we walked and talked
together, however all of those things and more were
stripped from me when I gave my essence to the heav-
ens and became a being for love and prosperity.
It happened on a cold winter day on the 15th of
December. I was sick all that week from the flu and
stayed in bed most of the time. My mother and father
were beginning to worry for my health due to the fact
that I was exhibiting strange symptoms, or so the doc-
tors said. I was also afraid of dying. It’s actually the
only thing that I am afraid of. I often lay awake at
night wondering what would come after death and
how I would take it.
“Marie,” my father called from down the hall of our
old house. “Do you want me to bring your dinner or
would you like to come downstairs and eat with your
Aunt Victoria and us?”
“I’ll come down in a minute father,” I replied.
I managed to get off the bed and down the stairs
safely. When I saw everyone sitting together at the table
laughing and drinking, I began to feel unwanted.
“I’m sorry I did not come say hello my dear,” aunt
Victoria began.
“It’s fine Auntie,” I said, cutting off her sentence.
We sat and ate for hours. My aunt, who had come
to visit for the night had regaled us with stories upon
stories of her travels through India and many artifacts
she discovered on her trips.
“That reminds me,” my aunt said, after her last
story. “I brought you something Marie.”
“Whoa,” I said in complete awe as my aunt hand-
ed me the most beautiful bracelet I had ever set my
eyes upon.
“I bought it off an old man at a marketplace in New
Delhi.”
“It is beautiful, Auntie.”
“That must have cost you a fortune, Victoria,” my
mother chimed in.
“Oh, you’d be surprised, Annie, it was quite afford-
able.”
After my aunt left late that night, I was still speech-
less from the glimmering silver bracelet. It was stun-
ning, and almost took my mind off my illness.
That night, I had a dream that both frightened and
confused me. I dreamt of an entity that appeared in
the form of an extremely beautiful young woman.
“We need you,” she whispered to me. “We need
you, come, come to us.”
I awoke the next morning with my hand seemingly
stuck to my bracelet. Still feeling confused about my
dream, I stayed in bed staring at the bracelet that I
believed gave me that strange dream, however, the
effects of the mysterious flu were back in full effect.
I was too tired to do much so I only tried to draw
what I saw while looking out the window. Suddenly, I
noticed the picture of the bird I was sketching began
to transform into the face of the same woman I saw
in my dreams.
“You must come,” she began to say, “we need you
now.”
I screamed out at the top of my lungs and my par-
ents ran into the room at the speed of light.
“What’s wrong Marie?” my parents said together.
Mariangely Segarra, Stevenson High School
Class of 2005
36 gateway voices / other voices
I turned back to the paper and noticed that the
image had returned to its original form.
All that day I tried to explain what had happened to
my parents, who had not believed nor understood a
word I said.
Now this may seem hard to believe, however, right
in the middle of my fourth explanation, I began to feel
a sudden jerk in my spine and saw an entire world of
swirling lights as I felt my feet leave the ground. Soon,
I found myself in a room so bright that it almost gave
me a hot flash.
“My name is Cesilima,” the woman said as she
slowly came into focus.
“What do you want from me?” I asked.
“You are the divine one. We have waited for you to
return to us for a millennium. I know you are feeling
confused at the moment, however that will pass in
time. I will explain beginning with your past life. Long
ago you were an archangel whose power was feared
by demons throughout the universe. You were known
as Maria, the Angel of Silence. Unfortunately, you
were locked away in this human for several lifetimes
by a demon whose evil flared after you were
restrained. My disciples and I, however, discovered
the body you currently reside in and were forced to
intervene by planting that bracelet right in your lap,
for it is the one relic from your past that can fully
return your memory to you.”
I stood there for minutes closely listening to the
frightening news. I was left in utter disbelief, possibly
even denial.
“This can’t be true… my parents… my family…”
“They were all implanted into your memory. You are
a divine entity.”
“No, I don’t believe it!”
“Possibly, if I activate the counter magic of your
bracelet your mind will be able to process such over-
whelming information.”
The woman came towards my crying slump of a
body and began to chant in a foreign language never
heard before. My mind began to warp and soon I was
no longer Marie, I was Maria.
That’s more or less how things went, how I became
an almighty archangel, fighting against the under-
world. No family, no friends, just power and the never
ending battle between heaven and hell. ■
Harmanmeet Singh, Clara Barton High School
Class of 2006
38 gateway voices / other voices
Alexia Mascall
Science Skills High School
Class of 2006
Obesity-Linked Fast Food
Two words bring about
Excess cholesterol and high prices.
Two words bring about
Food high in calories and spices.
It is FAST FOOD.
We eat so much,
And continue to consume.
Unaware that the more we eat,
The more we bring on our doom.
The salt, the fat, the grease.
How tasty it is, and do we cease?
No.
We eat a Big Mac,
And catch a heart attack.
We eat Dollar Fries,
And do not exercise.
We eat Pork Fried Rice,
Until our bodies lyse.
We go out to places like
Mickey D’s and Wendy’s.
Instead of going to Fine Fare and A&P,
You buy 12 burgers from White Castle
And eat it in 10 minutes without any hassle.
We’ll eat fast food until we cannot breathe,
Not knowing that Obesity is considered a disease.
So before you pick up a burger,
Or even a French fry.
Take a look around, and you’ll see the things you should realize.
Fast food is unhealthy,
And can harm you down the road.
So take the road less traveled,
And that could ease your load.
Fast food can make you fat,
And it sure can make you sick.
So before you take the last bite,
Remember, stop and think, then drop that greasy food quick!
42 gateway voices / other voices
Natalia Fredericks
Clara Barton High School
Class of 2006
Intuitional
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! Sounded off that annoying alarm
clock. I hit the snooze button with irritation, got out
of bed and prepared myself for the day. I was over at
my Uncle and Aunt Sermon’s for a while. I’ve never
seen them prior to now; I only conversed with them
on the phone.
“Good morning.” My 17 and a half year-old cousin,
Keisha, greeted me in her usual I-wish-I-really-weren’t-
here-right-now voice. I was visiting my relatives for the
spring break because my parents were off on a private
cruise. At first they wanted me to join them. I was real-
ly exhilarated by this, but something in my mind
stopped me. It was like one of those intuitions that
tell you that you have to do something that was more
important than what you really wanted to do. So I told
my parents that I would rather stay over at my aunt’s
and uncle’s, because I had a fear of riding in cruise
boats. A little white lie wouldn’t hurt anyone, but up
to now I was still wondering what was on my mind
and why it didn’t want me to leave my relatives. I left
my room and went down the stairs to the kitchen to
meet my cousin.
Despite the fact that her favorite relative was visiting
her, she still seemed tired, haggard, and distressed. I
tried to ask her what was going on, except for the baby
boy that was developing in her stomach and she would
always reluctantly answer me, “Nothing.” This usually
enraged me, but today I was going to make a change.
Today, I was going to go through my well-planned out
schedule, one that included no questions asked to my
dear cousin. I wasn’t going to stress myself out during
this vacation.
My little cousin, Alicia, had just woken up and charged
down the stairs with a huge Cheshire cattish grin on her
face. Seeing her always enlight-
ened my cousin’s appearance. I
didn’t know what was wrong
with me though. “Breakfast is
served!” little Alicia sung as she
jumped onto my older cousin.
They exchanged hugs and kiss-
es; I just wanted to see my
food in front of me so I could
get on with my vacation. After
breakfast, Alicia and I washed
our dishes and were set to go
upstairs, but Keisha just stayed
in the kitchen with her sullied
plate in front of her. Reading a
red and black book titled,
“PUSH”. She seemed to have
been studying that book as if it
were for a Regents test or SAT
exam. She spent most of her
time reading that novel; in fact,
this was the sixth time she has
been reading it. One of these
days, I’m going to slip away
with that book and read it to
see what was inside that made
it so special.
Stephanie Clebert, Jamaica High School
Class of 2005
43gateway voices / other voices
Alicia and I stayed in the room watching
television, reading stories, and playing PS2
until 5:00. Little Alicia had been looking
quite dismayed after 4:30. “My daddy will be
coming home from work soon,” she said.
Uncle Sermon was an amiable and gentle
man, well, he sounded like one when he
spoke to me on the phone. We got along
very well, and I had no trouble with him. If
he was a good man, why was Alicia looking
so scared? Why did Keisha leave the house
without telling us “good-bye”. Was this the
reason of my intuitions, and was I about to
figure out something that will eat at me for
the rest of my life?
The front door drew open, and Uncle
Sermon entered with a grin. He handed me a
small shopping list and asked me if I could
do him the favor by running to the store to
pick up a few groceries. I did the favor, but
before I left I saw Alicia frowning at me from
the stairs. I was having trouble finding that
one item on the list while I was shopping. It
seemed as if that item didn’t exist in the
world. Then a thought occurred in my head;
perhaps Uncle Sermon was keeping me out of
the house so I wouldn’t know what was hap-
pening. That was why Alicia was so dis-
tressed, that’s why Keisha left so early. I
dropped the groceries, ran through the auto-
matic doors, raced down the street, pushed
down a couple of irate pedestrians, and ran
up to my relatives home. I peered through the win-
dow; no one was there, at least not in the living room.
They must’ve been upstairs. I didn’t have the key to
the front door, but I did have a lock-pick. I fished a
bobbie-pin out of my hair and opened the door to
pandemonium.
Entering the house seemed like entering a nightmare.
Clothes and other paraphernalia were strewn all over
the floor. I heard a faint whimpering upstairs in my
cousin’s bedroom. As I climbed up the stairs, the front
door closed shut. Uncle Sermon must’ve been in the
house the whole time. I hesitantly opened the door to
my little cousin’s bedroom and found no one, however
the whimpering grew louder. Alicia was hiding herself
behind the bed the whole time.
“Alicia?”
“She came back too early,” she said.
“What happened here? Where did your father go?”
“……………………..”
“Or more importantly, what did he do?”
It just so happened that Keisha returned a little
after Uncle Sermon came. She came back because she
had forgotten the “PUSH” novel. Alicia said that
Sermon had forbidden Keisha from reading that book
because it would’ve warped her mind; and hell
would’ve been unleashed if he had found the book in
the house. So to avoid any trouble, she came back to
pick up the book; but she hadn’t expected her father
to be home. Uncle Sermon had found Keisha to be a
very attractive woman, and despite the fact that they
Stephanie Clebert, Jamaica High School
Class of 2005
44
were flesh and blood, he took advantage of her. It had
shocked me when my little cousin informed me that
Keisha’s child was also the child of her father. It was
hard for me to believe that my aunt never knew any
of this, but Alicia had told me that Uncle Sermon
threatened to do something bad to her if she told
Aunt Sermon about the affair. It just so seemed that
relatives could be a person’s worst enemy.
I couldn’t let this continue, I had to do something.
If there was someone who I had to tell about this
atrocity, it would be my aunt. She usually arrives
home from BINGO at 6’ o’clock, which was five min-
utes from now. Enough time for me to think of a way
to report to her the events. I divulged the secret to
Aunt Sermon when she came home. She was aghast
to hear the horrible truth, in fact, she went mad! She
was spitting, growling, and frothing at the mouth.
Quickly she went into her linen closet to pull out a
gun that she secretly hid inside for her hunting game.
I stopped her.
“Pull that trigger, and not only will you kill your hus-
band, but your daughters too.”
I was relieved to see that she gave in to my per-
suasions that violence is never the answer. So, she
picked up the phone and dialed 911.
When Uncle Sermon came back, he didn’t except to
see a whole crowd of police at the front of the
house. The officers booked him; no longer he could
terrorize my cousins. I felt so proud of myself, I had
saved both cousin’s lives and self-esteem, and I fol-
lowed my intuitions.
MORAL: FOLLOW YOUR INTUITIONS ■
Stephanie Clebert, Jamaica High School
Class of 2005gateway voices / other voices
45gateway voices / other voices
Jaime Matthew
Port Richmond High School
Class of 2006
Gateway
Open the organ of vision
Grasp the strong light
Penetrate into the entrance of ample opportunities,
And new learning
The road to your future
Success in hands and brain
This is Gateway
To a positive, higher education
Angela Padilla, John F. Kennedy High School
Class of 2003
46 gateway voices / other voices
Kishauna Flowers
Clara Barton High School
Class of 2006
Speechless
I sit here in the morning watching, waiting
I finally see what I want
It rises slowly making gold-orange streaks across the sky
I rise and try to touch the rays of colors but fail
I don’t get mad but I sit and watch the trees stretching and the mist rising
I walk around touching flowers, eating fruits and smelling the wonderful aroma until night
I then sit back down and watch the streaks disappear
And see the stars surface as the sky darkens
I look at the stars in a daze as if never wanting to look away
The stars give me comfort; the flower’s aroma dares me to sleep
I finally give in and rest on the inviting bed of grass
I don’t say good night because they already know, they encourage me to be speechless.
Farhana Islam, Jamaica High School
Class of 2005
47gateway voices / other voices
Jacqueline Marquina
Adlai E. Stevenson High School
Class of 2004
The End Of A Dream
When you are sleeping, what hap-
pens at the end of your dream? You
finally wake up. Many times you want
your dream to end soon. At other times
you wish you could see the end. To
me, life is like some kind of dream and
in the end I am finally waking up.
Sometimes a dream can last as long
as a caterpillar. Other times it can last
as long as a trip around the universe. I
don’t want my dream to be like a pic-
ture book or like an encyclopedia but
more like a novel. Not like a movie nor
a documentary. Not like a walk to the
corner store or to school, but like a
trip around the world.
This dream will be a real, full-length
adventure in finding myself and when I
have finally accomplished this, only
then I would like to wake up. That is
the time of my dying.
Farhana Islam, Jamaica High School
Class of 2005
48 gateway voices
Editorial Staff
Editor: Jessica Arnold
Associate Editors: Christian Gist, Allan Robles,
Elisabeth Iler, Patty Rout
Editorial Assistants: Jordana James, Yarledis Salcedo
Designer: Hannah Alderfer, HHA Design
Acknowledgements:
Thank you to the Gateway coordinators, faculty, and
students who collaborated on this issue:
Adlai E. Stevenson High School (Bronx):
Michelle Kanner, Coordinator
Bayard Rustin High School for the Humanities
(Manhattan):
Adrienne Rubin, Coordinator
Lutrell R. Nickelson, Coordinator
Brooklyn Technical High School (Brooklyn):
Giancarlo Malchiodi, Coordinator
Scott Mathews, Coordinator
Clara Barton High School (Brooklyn):
Carmen Daniels, Coordinator
Erasmus Hall High School for Science & Math
(Brooklyn):
Keturah Nubyahn, Coordinator
Jamaica High School (Queens):
Kathy Kalansky, Coordinator
John F. Kennedy High School (Bronx):
Melanie Papkov, Coordinator
Lafayette High School (Brooklyn):
Linda Rubino, Coordinator
Port Richmond High School (Staten Island):
David Salomon, Coordinator
Queens Gateway to Health Sciences Secondary
School (Queens):
John Madera, T.A.S.C. Site Director
Camilo Rojas, Art Teacher
Science Skills Center High School (Brooklyn):
Michele Williams, Coordinator
Gateway Central Student Council:
Edwing Medina, Advisor
Carolyn Almonte (Stevenson), Yerlina Almonte
(Jamaica), Kaurang Amin (Kennedy), Nicholas Calder
(Science Skills) Luz Ceballos (Humanities), Nanette
Cedeño (Stevenson), Christian Gist (Erasmus),
Deandra Hinds (Jamaica), Jereen Hossain (Clara
Barton), Tavia Jackson (Erasmus), Bomopregha Julius
(Science Skills), Amy Lau (Clara Barton), Rodely
Moise (Clara Barton), Sharona Moore (Kennedy),
Allan Pang (Humanities), Amelia Prasad (Kennedy),
Osei Rhone (Jamaica), Allan Robles (Science Skills),
Grant Reid (Humanities), Nadim Shaun (Stevenson).
For more information
about the
Gateway Institute, please
consult the Gateway
website:
www.gateway.cuny.edu
To contact us, email
call
(212) 650-6088.
Helen Aluleme, Clara Barton High School
Class of 2005