words

Religion is not a plural concept in which people compete

 to offer a pure and traditional idea of the perfect way.

Quite the opposite it is a chronological time line of our

collective and cooperative history.

Trees are air cleaners, providers of shade and wildlife magnets.

Birdhouses create easy, fun focal points.                               

Stim-u-li

Talk about justice, talk about injustice. Injust to I and I.  All the time talk about Peace. No peace. Still see no piece. I hadn't have enough of that. The government's going to give you what you want. why you want stim-u-li? how many cds gonna be enough? how many video games? when we gonna run out of stim-u-li. how many times people say they going to, but then stim-u-li.

MY X

What was once far away comes closer into view, but i try not to look. It's like looking at microscopic organisms thatlive on your eyes. the harder you try to look, the more the fluid rushes them away. It all began innocently enough. the bus was full and we had all seen the videos of Ronald Reagan in the old B-movie, dropping bombs and smiling. I saw his face and my mind cracked. It wasn't like i could hear it, but over the next few years i would become completely different. I was never going to be the same again. Any hopes I had of living a noraml,sane life were gone out the window. I had remembered times when i was younger of being afraid of people I didn't know. But this was different. Before I could just look away, or think of something else. Now, the sickness was eating me alive, slowly tearing away at my conscience, my soul.  The act would change my personality, until i finally was no longer recognizeable to the eye. I was no longer the same. For years the world swirled around me. I didn't want to get involved, i didn't want to participate.  The madness comforted me at times, kept me from being lonely.  At first it was too difficult to talk to family, they had become distant and seemed to me as if they were apart of what I was trying to get away from. I suppose it made me stronger. as the onset took over. i was thirteen. i was changed. i had seen something that completey tore me apart. i saw victims of the bombings at  a rally in nyc. they were smiling and handing out paper cranes. hundreds of thousands. i love the buddhist culture that was, then, foreign to me. now i occupy myself with gardening, cloning plants, creating life. I live for the peace unto animals too. I spent alot of time talking to myself, convincingly assuring that all was to end soon. Each day a new conviction to the fact that it would all end soon. For a while it did. then it didn't matter. we can kill two birds with one rock or feed them with one seed.. all are choices. i will never return to the sanity of opression.

ANTI-SEVENTEEN, PRO-LIBERATION
Almost every female adolescent has bought at least one. They were my bibles in
middle school. They
formed my thoughts, ideals, and expectations about sexuality and feminity. I
never once questioned
the fact that I had subscriptions to YM, Teen, and Seventeen, and would often
buy Mademoiselle
and the like for the newsstand price.
I have never before considered myself a feminist, but I am beginning to wonder
if I am.
Something is drastically wrong with our modern day media and culture. Along
with television, radio,
movies, school, teachers, parents, friends, catalogues, newspapers, and the
news, teen magazines
contribute to a culture that sends mixed messages to young womyn which ruins
sense of self and
stresses importance of appearance over personality. Even the newest "for real
girls" magazines,
which do not promote beauty to the extent of some others, still strongly
emphasize the need for
image. I have found that no matter what the image of a magazine, the content
within remains for the
most part universal:
We are expected to look cute, sexy, and vulnerable, yet confident,
independent, and intelligent.
We are expected to think for ourselves, but to listen to, believe, trust, and
obey males and adults.
We are expected to be spontaneous and care-free, but responsible and level-
headed.
We are taught that our own ideas of beauty are irrelevant in the eyes of
American society.
We are advised to get a job, and spend the money on . shoes.
We are taught to worship movie and TV stars, based solely on their looks.
We are shown that our bodies are objects to be flaunted, exploited, and
disrespected; if we have a
problem with any of these social norms, we are labeled prude, immature, or
dorky.
We are expected to accept all races, as long as they have been made over to
into the 'ideal' white
beauty and clothing culture.
We are taught to accept and appreciate what we are given; "The Best Swimsuit
for Your Body," but
to never think we look good enough; "Nine Beauty Disasters and How to Fix
Them."
The same magazine that has a paragraph about the new fad of animal activism
also has a four-page
ad for Cover Girl, a company that is notorious for testing on animals.
We are convinced that to look beautiful, we must wear tight, uncomfortable
clothes and shoes, apply
make-up, pluck our eyebrows, shave our body hair, lose weight, and keep up
with the latest trends.
We are fed lies and misinformation when hypocritical journalists generalize
and assume facts.
We are taught to pay more attention to the slang we are using than what we
actually say.
We are taught that beauty is more important than being true to oneself.
We are told that, to be happy, we must be beautiful.
We are taught to doubt and resist our instincts.
We are conditioned to think that we are the only one who is imperfect, and
that we are useless if we
are.
We are encouraged to spend money on their publications, only to damage our
self-esteem.
We are taught to smile when we are crying inside.
A few peoples' crude ideas of what a female should be are squashed into 80
pages of newsprint and
sold all over the world.
And the sad thing is, we listen.
I refuse to any longer.
"Resistance means vigilance in protecting one's own spirit from the forces
that would break it." (Mary
Pipher). I refuse to believe anything about myself and the world around me
without agreeing to
believe in it first. I will be an example, not a label, not a machine, and no
longer a supporter of an
industry which hurt me in my ignorance. Patriarchal and other ridiculous views
expressed above have
been around for far too long and it is time for us to take our culture into
our own hands. Feminists
before us fought for womyns' social and political rights to vote, work, play
professional sports, join
the military, get a divorce, and wear pants. We should teach ourselves and
each other to take
advantage of the benefits they made accessible to us, and to continue the
fight for further
improvements in daily life and for long-term progress.
In my opinion, our entire culture needs to be changed in many ways, and one
way to start is by
raising awareness. If you feel the same way I do, think about cancelling those
subscriptions, or
writing to magazines and suggesting a change.
We are taught to be feminine, so why don't We define the term for once?
By Audrey Fisher

"If you shave it all down, all we're really looking at when we flip through
those things is propaganda
trying to turn naive little girls into the clones that are more socially
appealing."

-Audrey Fisher

Peace is something the world should share,

It's all about loving; we dare you to care!

How can we have peace on earth?

By understanding each person's worth!

Peace is like a dove, soaring high above,

Watching over humans, with gentle care and love.

Make peace be your lifetime event,

By protecting our environment!

Practice peace to all mankind...

We certainly wouldn't mind!

Peace makes us feel good inside,

It helps us to stand side by side.

Let's have peace each and every day,

And always have something good to say.

Without peace between people no friendships exist

Peace is the quiet that helps friends coexist.

This poem written collaboratively by the following classes: Mr. Moquin , Mrs. Massa, Mrs. Gallinger, Mrs. Johnson, Mrs. Perrin, Mrs. Yungwirth

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We are many colors

but we have the same spirit

We have different dreams

but we have the same vision

We are many, yet we are one

Peace for one, peace for all.

This poem written collaboratively by the Fifth Grade