Prosody 2014

ABOUT THE COVER:

This year our cover artist is JACK COLLEY, Class of 2014. Jack shared a few words with us about his work:

This photograph was taken at a dude ranch in Wickenburg, Arizona. My intention was to capture the character of the people inhabiting this place, a location that seems frozen in time. At this ranch, cowboys have been herding horses in the same way since the 1950's. The cowboy in the scene has worked at the ranch for generations, so it was fitting for him to be the main subject.

My family started going to this ranch a few years after it opened. This sparked a culture of horsemanship in my family and between my grandparent’s generation and mine we have had around eight horses. To show the timelessness and the tradition of the ranch, the photo is printed in black and white. The high contrast in values allows the viewer to be immersed in the dust, just the way the cowboy is. The landscape format creates a natural sense of direction from side to side. The scene emerges completely when the book is fully open.

pros· o· dy [pros-uh-dee] – noun1. the science or system of poetic meters and versification.

2. the stress and intonation patterns of an utterance.

Origin: 1400–50; late Middle English. Latin prosdia, Greek prosidía.

PROSODY2014

The Junior Kindergarten The Senior Kindergarten Charlotte JordanSara Jayne GrayChloe WatrousIan GeorgeNoah MackenzieJulian MillerMolly BiggsAvery AvedisianChloe JacobiEliza Widlansky

PROSODYArtists & Writers

LOWER SCHOOL

MIDDLE SCHOOL

Ben SilvermanEthan CantorStefania BorrelliPhoebe CaseyWill O’ConnorTalia SmithBetsey Freiburger Maxim MarshallAidan Mitts

Connor GrayLiam GallagaLottie AkiMarshall HymanVanessa BorelliDanielle SavinJuliet AinsleyRachel OlatunjiNatalie McCallLily BiggsAva FarhatJunnah Quraishi

Sofia SimonAnna Roszak8th Grade CollaborationEloise RichardsonRachel BlairPaula Fiegl Maya ValliathClayton DurningDuncan ApplebaumAlexandra Charnas

Beatrice de Montfort WalkerClaudia FieglWalker HymanEun Hae LilligZander KhanCamilla Joffrey Adam KalilLiliana GreenSam RoszakZoe RosenstockCharlie Ver EeckeOwen ConlonEllia Yarandi

Shemar James Jack ValentiSafia VohraEmma HalbertEmma FlanneryEmily GeorgeBen PotterLille van de Zanden

The editing staff would like to thank all North Shore students, faculty, staff and parents who channeled art and writing submissions to us

and helped proof our final layout.

UPPER SCHOOL EDITING STAFF

FACULTY ADVISORS

Shemar JamesJack ColleyJessica QiaoLille van der ZandenSamantha Weinberg Rachel HayesKatie KarminEmma FlanneryJames RobinsonValerie JaharisTess ConsidineAntonia TheodosakisStephanie CurleyJosie SantiQuinn Gray Clayton CottinghamEmma HalbertBen PotterDillon ForesterRebecca KirtleyZak Nelson

Ms. Puccia & Ms. Kinder

James Robinson 11th

Flocks of black cablesstream in parallel patternsshuttling busyness, to the paying customerslinked to its surging stream.

Its seething army of electrons,march uniformlyfeeding the hum of the firehidden beneath its impervious black sheath.Telephone conversations

leap between polesferrying progress and directing messagesoblivious

INTERSECTION

to the silent strandof wind-torn prayer flagsthat intersects the rushing streamat an odd angle.

Each tattered flag droops in a hopeful stance awaiting the lift of a breeze to release its prayers:

thousands of little wordsunleashed to the winddispersing a different story.

Junnah Quraishi 3rd

8th Grade Collaborative Art

The sun beats down on my back. The sand is scorching hot,my feet feel

like fire. The Big Ferris Wheel towers over me like a skyscraper. I hear the

children scream with glee, and the icecream man shouts in his cheerful

voice “Get your ice cream, get it fresh today!’ I’m hot and sweaty and I

feel I could use a swim. Sizzled mobs come in the water to cool off. The

waves bob up and down as if they were a roller coaster. It is a zoo here.

Everyone is swimming, tanning, eating, or dancing. There are a lot of

diverse faces around here on the beach. Even in the boiling summer of

Chicago you can have fun!

CHICAGO

Eliza Widlansky 4th

Charlotte Jordan 2nd

FALL

Friends make jack-o-lanterns on Halloween.

A season with the colors orange and red.

Leaves fall down from the trees.

Look! People like jumping in leaf piles.

The Senior Kindergarten

Marshall Hyman 2nd

Jack Colley 12th

My Poem

This poem is for the open minded. The people who understand that the time that I’m writing about was very hard for people just as deserving as we are now. This poem is for those people, the strong, brave people, who called the north a new home. They also called it the Land of Freedom.

REAL FREEDOM

My bloodlines are long,just like the scars on my back,but now I know freedom,almost.

My hands are calloused,from the long years of work,no breaks, no fruits of my labor,and now I know freedom,almost.

I’ve bought some crops,I’ve spent a long time tending to them,I’ve spent all my money on food for my family,but when the rent has to be paid,

Noah Mackenzie 5th

they take away my food for themselves,if this is freedom, I don’t like it.

This year was a good year,my crops were the best,they sold at the market, for more than five cents,I pay off my debts, free up my will, and move on,

We buy the tickets,and wait,waiting,waiting, waiting.

The train arrives,and we say goodbye,off to the north.

We are going to find…Real freedom.

Happiness

Valued more than gold

Cannot bargain or purchase it

Some spend their entire lives seeking it

Comes as naturally as bees to honey

Anyone can strive to get it but only some succeed

It is evasive but when you find it, you must keep a tight hold for it might run away

and leave you decrepit

Ian George 5th

Sofia Simon 6th

Julian Miller 1st

JumpJump,Jump for the joyjump to succeed jump to touch the skyfall to fall, but don’t let me watchfail to fail you might succeed but if you jump there will always be victory

Betsey Freiburger 7th

The early morning sunshine fills the roomBright light reflecting off his glassesmaking his eyes shine in the lightHis gentle and soothing voice fills the air with happiness and joyWhile mixing the ingredients,his dark brown hair shuffles from his movementThe smell of the pancake batter fills the kitchenMy dad rolls up his sleeves of his fuzzy sweater,ready to beginThe pan sizzles as the batter hits the pan one by oneHe holds the handle ready to flip each pancakeThe handle is bumpy compared to his smooth skinEach pancake is perfect,smooth and in a circle,sitting in the plate waiting to be eatenHis hand glides across the top pancake,as he places another smooth pancake to the top of the pileThe pancakes are placed on the floral tablecloth,sitting beside the delicious maple syrup that fills the air with a sweet aromaHis gentle voice now fills with excitementas he tells us ‘Breakfast is Ready!’

EARLY MORNING PANCAKES

Stefania Borrelli 7th

Clayton Cottingham 12th

Quinn Gray 12th

One day, the mountain lion wanted to climb a mountain to get to a birthday party. Then, he found a big cave on top; it was so cold. He walked down to get the other lions. He got his cubs and walked back up. There was a mean goat in the cave. The lion walked into the cave to find the mean goat. The goat said, “Ha!” The lion tried to walk away, but the cubs said, “It’s time for the party, Dad! The party is actually in the cave.” It was the goat’s party! They had a good time, and went out-side into the cold mountains to see if anyone else was coming. When they were outside, the goat chased them! Then, the goat fell down and needed a band aid. The goat’s parents came and said, “Oh, you need a band aid. We have one right here!” Then, they had some chocolate cake. Then the daddymountain lion said, “It’s time to go home.” Just then, the mommy lion showed up. Then they ate the whole cake. Three days later, the baby cubs came back to play with the goat. Then the goat came over to their house and they had fun. The end.

A MOUNTAIN BIRTHDAY PARTYThe Senior Kindergarten

Rachel Blair 8th

Charlie Ver Eecke 1st

Creative

Helpful

Awesome

Really good at karate

Loving

Imaginative

Exciting

Brilliant

Ellie’s Sister

Artistic

Teammate

Ready to Garden

Interesting

Creating

Energetic

Beatrice de Montfort Walker 1st

Dillon Forester 10th

white paint boundary

mud splashed post

torn up grass

stinky field

cold sweat dripping

pierced dirt flying

center circle

players Numbers

mud dripped cleats

muddy shinguards

start whistle

white powder

flying Ball

SOCCER GAMEOwen Conlon 3rd

There once was a small town of Nowhere. Nowhere was a terrible, evil place! No one escaped Nowhere because they feared the Great Something. The Great Something was beyond Nowhere and beyond the Greyness. The Great Something was filled with love and warmth that the people of Nowhere were once taught to fear. This fear lived with them in their daily lives slowly eating them alive.

But there was a girl. A special unordinary being of Nowhere. Her named was Esther. Esther was special and she did not fear the Great Something like the others in her town did.

Esther was the bravest of the brave.

Esther found the life she was living was bitter and blue. Everything was the same. The same grey houses, the same grey cars, the same grey faces, the same grey shoes…all of it was grey. The only thing in Esther’s life that wasn’t grey was her hair. There was a tiny red streak that scared all

Rachel Hayes 9th

ESTHER AND THE GREAT SOMETHING

the small school children into the arms of their mothers. She had no friends and her teachers ignored her…all because she was different.

The people of Nowhere feared different which was what Esther was. She had a feeling in her heart that was different and she could feel that feeling growing everyday. So Esther let her love grow for all to see. She no longer felt ashamed of the glowing red in her beautiful heart. She ran around spreading her love and making all the others realize the warmth that they could experience from the love.

So once Esther spread her love, she stood and cried, “We must not fear the Great Something! We must embrace the love! We must embrace the Something!”

And so they did.

A BOOK

Ellia Yarandi 3rd

shiny title

yellow pages

page number written in black

long chapters

ripped bookmark

words upon the page

tall letters

carzy named author

sketched pictures

ended story

The cows mock me in the green, grassy field,

The chicks and chickens chased me out of the hen house,

The strong, brown horse bucked me off his back,

The ducks pushed me in the shimmering pond,

The big, fat pig splattered me with sticky brown mud,

Seems the only animal that likes me here is the dog.

Chloe Watrous 3rd

Sara Jayne Gray 5th

FARM TROUBLES

Liam Gallaga 1st

Lottie Aki 1st

As we walk along the silver roadThe puddles shine as the raindrops fallTheir long skirts rippling with laceThe fog hangs low like a sagging blanketHeld up by thin trees, infuriated by this taskThey have lost their leavesAnd hate their shameful baldnessAs the snow piles highAnd the rain pours onNever ending winterNever ending Thunder-snow

Emma Flannery 9th

THUNDER-SNOW

I float in the air.

I hover around the mountains.

I glimmer in rain.

I am warm but also cold.

I will put you in zen mode.

Natalie McCall 5th

DRIFTING IN THE AIR

Neglect, neglect is the word That no one wants to be heard. It rings in the ears! And can bring out tears!Tears of the forgotten ones. Neglect. Neglect is the word That no one wants to feel. It feels lonely and forgotten, In the unknown corner. While the others continue riding, Your still on the sideline, not close to where you want to be. If you’re ever to be mistaken,And put off in the shadow, Do not sit and wallow! Stand up!Shake it off and rise above, To prove to the ones who overlooked. Because you will not hear the word neglect, Nor will it reflect, The amazing accomplishment that deserves respect.

NEGLECT

Emma Halbert 12th

Jessica Qiao 12th

Lille van der Zanden 10th

The person who I see in the mirroris not a person that is so easy to be.But in order to be truly free.I have to look at myself with honesty.

I walk in the steps of millions that lived before me.They cast shadows of images I don’t want to see.Persecuted and Executed for their Jewish identity.My name honors their memory.

I have been bullied and mistreated because I don’t have a Christmas tree.Because that’s what their parents taught them so easily.So I’m silent and I wash away the pain like the waves on the sea.I never get to celebrate some of my special qualities.

My family stresses the importance of one’s veracity.We pray for peace and that applies to the world in its entirety.

Ethan Cantor 8th

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 The wind blows by carrying a swift breeze of fresh air1, 2, 3, 4 Brushing my hair to the side5, 6, 7, 8 My head follows then my shoulders1, 2 Rib riband Isolate3, 4 Hip hip5 and 6 Circling7, 8 I dance

A LIFE THAT COUNTS

Samantha Weinberg 9th

Anna Roszak 7th

Paula Fiegl 7th

Eloise Richardson 6th

Rebecca Kirtley 12th

Molly Biggs 4th

I kick my legs into open space!

I twirl around until I fall!

I dance and celebrate until the white day is overI lie awake in my cool sheets,thinking what a beautiful day it wasI fall asleep under the eyes of the moonThe dark night, just like the light day,is beautiful too.

I lift my skirt, and tap my foot,feeling the beat of the lively song!I go home after a too-quick dayI fall asleep under the ears of the moonThe dark night, just like the light day, is beautiful too.

DANCE!Claudia Fiegl 5th

Gray as the cat in my father’s house,

Yellow as the little bird in my mother’s apartment,

Red as delicious tomato juice,

Purple as the taxis in Chicago,

Green as the trees in spring,

Blue as the sky on a beautiful day,

Orange as the participation sheet.

Gris comme le chat dans la maison de mon père,

Jaune comme le petit oiseau dans l'appartement de ma mère,

Rouge comme le délicieux jus de tomate,

Violet comme les taxis à Chicago,

Vert comme les arbres au printemps,

Bleu comme le ciel quand il fait beau,

Orange comme la feuille de participation.

LES COULEURS

COLORS

Maxim Marshall 7th

Zander Khan 4th

Aidan Mitts 8th

Zoe Rosenstock 3rd

I am from a stageCaked with dust and splintersI am from standing on the coffee table and providing the after-dinner entertainmentI am from the shadow that my sister left on stageOr the one my brother left on the basketball courtEverything five year old meWanted to be

I am the smell of pastitsio And the skin of an oliveI’M FROM ROARING VOICES On my cousins’s farm

I am from a mind of my own Carefully crafted by members of my familyI am from anger and sadnessFrom the lips that brush across each other gentlyAs they whisper memorized movie line

WHERE I’M FROM

I am from the child who hid under the coversScared by too many thoughtsI am from people’s laughterWho are too busy to see tears

I am from a familyWhich is twisted like a grape vineBut holds its own

I am from a SeedWhose heart has been spread across the worldFrom someone who cares too muchAnd wastes too much timeAll the while On the stageIn the blazing spot light

Valerie Jaharis 11th

Liliana Green 4th

Zak Nelson 11th

The sun hit me in just the right spoton the square of my left shoulder bladeand it felt goodreally goodIt spread warmth on every square of skin on my bodyand I just felt so--rightlike the world was made for methat there is a little nookfor me to crawl intowhere I can just beEXPOSEDMy breath raw, my stomach hollowand yet I was still hereI don’t want this feeling to endCRANK CRANK CRANKWhat is happening?I lift my gaze out of my nookto find a tall, hovering manlowering the curtains,lowering the curtains, but at the same time smirking at mebecause he knew just the effect he was having on meThe warmth slowly but surely began to fade

The warm air being suckedof meI felt like I was dyingSomebody, Save me!I glance around at the restof my classmatesbut nobody is looking up.How can they carry on like this?Surely they too feel the cool goose bumps creeping up on their armssurely they too feel this rotten pit settling at the bottom of their stomachsI look up one more time to make sure I am not fantasizingThere they areearbud in each earThe only thing that matterstheir stupid music blaringand then it hits meI am alonesurroundedby silhouettesin a darkchilly nowhere Katie Karmin 9th

Josie Santi 12th

Every where you go, there always is a person that is shy or doesn’t

talk to anyone very much. Typically they fall into the category of being

“Depressed” or being “Antisocial,” but what if they just don’t know what

to say? If you ever really think about it, the ones who are silent really

have the upper hand, because you never really know what they’re doing.

So while the people who are talking reflect on something they learned,

the people who are silent get to learn another thing on top of that. So,

the next time you begin to think about what’s going on inside that kid in

the corners head, you know its going to be a thought one step in front of

yours.

SILENT PEOPLEWill O’Connor 8th

Clayton Durning 8th

The soil is richIt is rejuvenatingYou are mesmerized

MEDITATION

Rachel Olatunji 5th

Ben Silverman 8th

Eun Hae Lillig 5th

Close your eyes. You are at a beach in Chicago. You can hear the giggling children happily playing. The splashing of the waves are quiet. Of course, sometimes you can also hear the lifeguards whistle, loud and shrill. The scene is nice. Children covered in sand playing with a ball shouting. They throw the ball a little too far and it lands by your feet. You throw it back to them. They smile at you. You see people eating a picnic. There is lush, green trees to your left. Far away you can see the ferris wheel at Navy Pier. You feel relaxed. You rub sunscreen on your arms which are almost burned. You walk a little farther down the beach and you see an interesting seashell. You go and pick up the seashell. It is many colors and is very beautiful. You are hot so you walk into the water. It is nice and cool. You feel so calm. You go back to your towel and lay down. You put on sunglass-es you go to sleep. In a while you wake up and notice it was time to go. You pack your things and go.

Walker Hyman 4th

MEMORIESMaya Valliath 7th

Her warm, loving, brown eyes gazed down at me. I smiled at her.

The smell of her tea drifted from the kitchen and I ran to the biscuits. I dipped the crumbly biscuit into her tea.

She watched us play around the couch and with the toys that lay in a cabinet in the bedroom.

As we waltzed through her big tile hallway and stared with awe at the foreign plants carefully tended to by her that lay outside the window, she watched us play through those circular glasses that framed her face.

Three years later, when I came back, and she was old and frail. She still smelled of her light perfume. Her skin was smooth and glossy but wrinkled.

One day I wore an Indian shirt and I remember she was so proud of me. I don’t know for what but I felt so loved by her.

She lay in the floral bed weak and exhausted. I had to say goodbye.

Her warm, loving, brown eyes gazed up at me. I smiled at her.

I received her stamp collection half a year later. It smelled like an old book and the precious stamps were contained in a gold tinted box.

I gingerly sifted through the collection of memories. I slowly accumulated bits and pieces of her life.

I smiled.

Junior Kindergarten

Avery Avedisian & Chloe Jacobi JK

Camilla Joffrey & Adam Kalil JK

Ben Potter 10th

THE PASTPhoebe Casey 6th ~ Inspired by The Red Scarf Girl

November 4, 1966I felt guiltandthere was nothing I could do about it.

December 15, 1966The decemberrainwashed away my humiliation and shame

January 7, 1967I sawa boyblowing big splendid soap bubblesthat shimmered with colors in the sunlight,just as we had done when we were little

February 19, 1967 His enthusiasm wasELECTRICfrank, sincere, sympathetic

March 29, 1967Our red scarves flutter,the sounds of drums and gongs,many beautiful dreams

Stephanie Curley 12th

casually

the fish swims around the tank

lazily

viewing the diverse colored

rocks

and the leafy plant

all inside

the aquarium

in the room

Juliet Ainsley 4th

Lily Biggs SK

Ava Farhat SK

Vanessa Borelli 5th

HAPPINESS

Hold fast to happinessFor if it goesLife is a gardenThat’s missing a hose.

Hold fast to happinessFor when it is goneLife is a sketchbookWithout anything drawn.

Talia Smith 7th

Connor Gray 2nd

I am waiting for the horn to blow. The anticipation is growing. I am starting to sweat. I glance at the boy next to me right as the horn blows. I sprint into the water. The water is splashing everywhere, and it’s kinda hard to see. When the water gets deeper I dive under it and start swimming. I then quickly jump up for a gulp of air; then I submerge back into the murky water. We swim for a couple more minutes and soon I am running out of the water on to the shore to get to my transition station.

When I get to my transition station I get my shoes, socks, number and belt. Then I grab my bike and run for the bike track. When I get to the bike start I hop on my bike and start pedaling. I feel the air hitting my chest. It’s like a cold bite, but I quickly get over it and pass a couple more people. My legs start hurting more and I notice that I am going up a hill. I power through it and on the other side I look ahead of me and I see the bike finish. I am a little relieved because I know that the race will be over soon. When I reach the bike finish I hop off my bike and run it back to my transition station.

I take off my helmet and get my water bottle and take a swig. The water runs like a river down my throat. I run to the run start and then I start sprinting. I am sprinting for my life and it feels amazing. I am running for some time now, I have passed a lot of people. There is a Gatorade stand up ahead so I think I should take a drink. When I am done I throw it away and I run for a couple more min-utes. I see the finish line; I am more relieved than ever before. I sprint my fastest through the finish line; my heart is pounding. I take my token of victory, my med-al. I then run to my cheering parents and give them a hug. I feel like a champion.

CHICAGO SCENE : TRIATHALONSam Roszak 5th

Antonia Theodosakis 10th

Duncan Appelbaum 7th

Lights flicker

Reflect my shadow on the cobble stone

Barely see as the haze takes sight

Turn the corner, hear bells chime

No one but my shadow and I

The ring, the sound, our waltz we danced

The silence, the hum, our collapse

Continue over the bend to the crowded square

All is dark, my shadow replaced

By the boy who rang the bells inside

The danced, collapsed heart of mine

Where we’ve gone

WHERE WE’VE GONE

Tess Considine 9th

Danielle Savin 3rd

Alexandra Charnas 6th

Let go of that dreamThat one of illusionThe outside of your unleashedAnd burning desires of the bleeding heartRelease that unwanted but beautiful blue birdThat many others have but refuse to free from their hesitant cagesLet go of that dreamThe one of intrusion Misled by the twisted path you trod beneathAnd imposed upon you by witch-crafted artAway with any foreign thought, tongue, and wordAnd realize that night strange star you wished upon was so absurdLet go of that starNo matter how it seemsNo matter how it gleamsBy no means should you go to extremesBecause what glows amonsgt the purple darknessis only waiting full of starknessAnd up its big dipper sleeve is a schemeLet go that dream Let go.

LET GO OF THAT DREAM

Shemar James 12th