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Where I'm From Poetry Contest Honorable Mention

 A Remnant of my Parents  by Emma Heim I heard my dad doesn't remember my birth  So stressed from working hard  Working for a wife bringing life to the earth  Born from hands that were scarred  I always felt my mom was tired  Her heart too large; our house too small  Saving all the kids we acquired  Raised by a heart that loved them all  I watched my dad lead the sheep  Helping them find everlasting hope  Slaving for people in too deep  Instructed on sin as a slippery slope  I smelled my mom’s warm meals  fresh bread and warm crockpots Cooking for eight people's needs  Taught that a little can be lot  I grew up wanting to be my mom  She always knew what to do  Loving, collected, and calm  Forever wanting to be that too   They were born of parents too  From worn hands and battered hearts  We always were the lucky few  Generations of wisdom to impart
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Where I'm From Poetry Contest Third Place Winner

 Where I’m From – Sam Jordan The cobble-brick square, the limestone street, The uneven concrete pavement, crackling beneath my feet. The tearful rain and frost-clad meadows, The house sparrows’, song uplifts and echoes. Stamford is undeniably beautiful when fall begins, But nothing comes close to this pulchrous town in the spring. The persistent fog ‘n’ damp morning dew, At the foot of the hill, makes for quite a remarkable view. Specks of rain dampen the moist ‘n’ soggy grass, As I gaze out of the window at this miserable forecast. Alas, it is not all gloom in my pretty little town, For I love the rain, it’ll never make me frown. Church bells ring, calling at every hour, Mosaic stone-glass windows climb up the spiral church tower. A quiet smile on my face, and a shiver down my spine, My heart so full, that this little town is mine. The wet ‘n’ lonesome man, Sitting silently on the graveyard bench, The marketmen sell their fruits, Dry, under their widespread tents. A primordial ooze, I

Where I'm From Poetry Contest Second Prize Winner

 By Heath Johnston The ideal beau look of a city Beauty from the Outset visitor Landmarks within each kilometer Yet to the insider, grim and gritty Who cares of skyscrapers tall The new years Lightning ball Who cares of the city of Dallas When the citizens are filled inwardly malice My friends and brothers, lovingly close Left in coffins from the streetly ghost Gangs, violence, drugs and alcohol Vices from few, affecting the all Not to mention the horrendous human sort of traffick I do not intend to be mindlessly graphic These are the results and the designs of my city Do not lose the facts within the publicity I’m thankful for the opportunities that came But I cannot help feeling nothing but shame For the city to whence I once called home The brutality masked by panels of chrome Where I came from, hardly means anything now My friends here are more than the city could allow From where I was, to where I go, to me they are both the same I am not the old person from whence I once came So

Where I'm From Poetry Contest First Place Winner

Rerooting  Belle Ayala  I am from blooming banana trees  Step stone paths,  The scent of bumble bees.  I am from Oye Como Va  Red on rice,  The sound of ethnicity.  I am from The Palace marquee  Stardom child eyes,  The joy of make-believe.  I am from secondhand tap shoes  Tallest in my class,  A fact that would always be.  I am from sweet sixteen  Child raising baby,  Then 21. Then 23.  I am from duplex homes,  Thick brick walls,  A conglomerate of families.  I am from cigarette daydreams  Coat soaked smoke,  The kind that never leaves.  I am from highway drives  Half-blood brother,  A blur of mismatched memories.  I am from undying grief  Matrimony muddled,  A hurt only known to she.  I am from the wreckage,  The rubble  Of a cut down family tree.  I am from the forgotten leaves  Sticks and stones shattering bones,  A future unforeseen.  I am from self-help solace,  Stubbornness and pride,  A passion to grow undying.  I am going to be what I need  A love so deep and blue,  Through ti

Facing the Enemy: Writer's Block

O ne of the greatest struggles of my life has been the fight against writer’s block. As an aspiring author, not being able to write and find the words my brain is thinking of is terrifying especially when a due date looms over my head. College has brought out the most writer’s block I have ever had. Combatting the battle of writer’s block can be super tricky, but here are some things that work for me! 1. Finding Inspiration The most helpful thing for me in times of struggling with what the heck to write is finding some good inspiration. Whenever I’m struggling with writing a scene for my novel or just don’t know how to effectively communicate what I want to in an academic paper, I always go back to books, movies, or TV shows that I love for inspiration. Within them, I always find some bits of writing that I find amazing. These small pieces can really help me come up with different ideas for how to write and what to write. Going back to what I know is a great piece of literature whether

Fighting Perfectionism

In the book Quitter, Jon Acuff says, "90 percent perfect and shared with the world always changes more lives than 100 percent perfect and stuck in your head." As students, writers, and professionals, we are still learning to gauge the difference between something (essays, homework, art, etc.) that is 90 percent done or 100 percent perfect. The difference? There is no creation that will ever be 100 percent perfect outside of our minds. That's a frustrating concept, but try as we might there will always be a way to improve. It is really easy to get caught up in a self told lie: If I just add or change this one thing it'll be perfect. The reality is that this perfection we've dreamed of does not exist. It doesn't matter if it's a personal piece of art that you've created for yourself or if it's a final essay that is 35 percent of your grade...there will always be one more thing to fix. That sounds like a trap to me. Why do we strive to be so perfect i

Celebrating Women's History Month on Campus: One Group at a Time

Women's History Month is a time to celebrate the many accomplishments and achievements of women across the globe and to remember the trails and tribulations all the women have endured to get where they are now. Different organizations on campus are taking the time to celebrate in their own ways and teach anyone willing to learn what they are providing for the betterment of women in the Ashland community.  Most clubs plan to make this March as informative as they can with only a few weeks left in the month. One group in particular is the Ashland chapter of 1Girl, a nonprofit organization that is built on a mentorship and leadership program for middle school girls to learn from college and high school students on professionalism and navigating different workforces.  "I want to close off the year and Women's History Month by showcasing the stories of women and the history of women," 1Girl President Erin Groves said. "I hope to partner with another campus organizatio