Nonfiction

In kindergarten, I was oblivious. I think I knew what a president was, and, well, that was it.

When I heard 
I was in a pottery class
with most people I did not know
Our teacher told us
We all jumped in excitment 
Then stopped because we did not know where everyone else stood.
But we then knew we stood togther

I thought it would be different for me, I thought I could be stronger.
No, I'm just like everyone else, and we all say high school sucks.
Rule number one: You are freshman, you must move out of peoples way, do no expect them to move.

Don’t divide yourselves, you are stronger together rather than as one. 

I am NOT scared of the dark.
The soupy inky blackness hardly phases me.
Monsters under the bed?
Pu-lease
Creepy spiders in the covers?
Borr-ing
Electric tentacles of death swooping inside 

God Is Love.
Love Never Fails.

May 17, 1954, was a day to celebrate.
Finally the government had come to its senses,
declaring segregation of public schools unconstitutional.
It’s was new era where people of color had a chance at an equal education.

Perhaps this was inevitable, so flawed and warlike are we, though I beg any intelligent species who may find this to heed my words: Do not allow yourselves to be overcome by greed, hate or anger; live in peace as we could not.
 

Mary Veracka

The wind blows through my helmet into my ear. The swift push of the broken bar gets heavier every time like someone’s stuffing hand warmers in it. I rotate my skis and poles, hoping not to get them stuck under the chair.