young authors booklet - 2010

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Page 1: Young Authors Booklet - 2010

P R I X J E U N E S É C R I VA I N S2 0 1 0

YO U N G A U T H O R S AWA R D S

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67049-1 YA Cover 2010:YA Cover 5/19/10 4:06 PM Page 1 (Black plate)

P R I X J E U N E S É C R I VA I N S

YO U N G A U T H O R S AWA R D S

It was so far.

YYoouunngg AAuutthhoorrss AAwwaarrddssYYoouunngg AAuutthhoorrss AAwwaarrddss

67049-1 YA Cover 2010:YA Cover 5/19/10 4:06 PM Page 1 (Matte Varnish plate)

P R I X J E U N E S É C R I VA I N S

YO U N G A U T H O R S AWA R D S

It was so far.

YYoouunngg AAuutthhoorrss AAwwaarrddssYoung Authors Awards

67049-1 YA Cover 2010:YA Cover 5/19/10 4:07 PM Page 1 (PANTONE 520 C plate)

P R I X J E U N E S É C R I VA I N S

YO U N G A U T H O R S AWA R D S

It was so far.

YYoouunngg AAuutthhoorrss AAwwaarrddssYYoouunngg AAuutthhoorrss AAwwaarrddss

67049-1 YA Cover 2010:YA Cover 5/19/10 4:07 PM Page 1 (PANTONE 521 C plate)

Page 2: Young Authors Booklet - 2010

•Y

OUNG

AUTHORS AWARD

S•

PR

IXJEUNES ÉCRIV

AINS

YOUNGAUTHORSAWARDS

2010

Page 3: Young Authors Booklet - 2010

PREFACE

This collection is a celebration of the literary talents and accomplishmentsof the provincial winners of the Ontario English Catholic Teachers’Association’s 2010 Young Author Awards/Prix jeunes écrivains program.

Congratulations to all the provincial winners. The writing selectionsproduced by these young authors remind us that the famous Canadianauthors of the future are presently in our classrooms.

We also extend our congratulations to all the thousands of studentsacross the province who participated in the classroom, school, and unitlevels of the awards program. Everyone’s enthusiasm and hard workensures that the Young Authors Awards/Prix jeunes écrivains programcontinues to grow and improve each year. We also show appreciation to allthe teachers – without whose inspiration and encouragement, the studentswould not have had the opportunity to challenge themselves and enter thecompetition.

The Young Authors Awards/Prix jeunes écrivains program would alsonot be possible without the hard work of many OECTA members across theprovince. Teachers, school OECTA Association Representatives, UnitPresidents and Unit Executive members all play a critical role inadministering the program in their respective classrooms, schools andunits. The members contribute their talent, time and effort to preserve thespirit and continued success of the program, and to celebrate theoutstanding work of our teachers and students.

Once again, thank you very much to all the dedicated members of theOntario English Catholic Teachers’ Association who ensure that theprogram flourishes year after year.

Susan PerryProfessional Development DepartmentOntario English Catholic Teachers’ Association

Page 4: Young Authors Booklet - 2010

1

by OWEN MCCARTHY SKAR JAK

SCHOOL: Father F.X. O’ReillyTEACHER: Karen McEvoy

SCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Ruth Ann TurnbullUNIT: Simcoe Muskoka Elementary

UNIT PRESIDENT: Robert Harrison

ElementaryJunior and SeniorKindergartenShort Story

THE LEPRECHAUN

I was walking in a forest. I saw a big tree

with a door. I opened the door and

there was a leprechaun washing his

gold. He hid the gold under the table. I said “Hi.”

The leprechaun said, “You scared me!” I said,

“Sorry. Would you like to play with me?” The

leprechaun said, “Yes.” Then we became friends.

Page 5: Young Authors Booklet - 2010

ElementaryJunior and SeniorKindergartenPoem

SCHOOL: St. MichaelTEACHER: Rosemarie Hall

SCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Shawn MarconUNIT: Sudbury Elementary

UNIT PRESIDENT: Kent MacNeill

by AL IC IA BR IDGET CUNNINGHAM-DUNLOP

2

My butterfly was orange

It had two wings

It flew to my house

It sat on a flower

I watched it for one hour

Then it flew away

I hope it comes back

Some day!

MY BUTTERFLY

Page 6: Young Authors Booklet - 2010

ElementaryJunior and SeniorKindergartenNonfiction

SCHOOL: St. AndrewTEACHER: Theresa SlomkaSCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Jill MercerUNIT: Halton Elementary

UNIT PRESIDENT: Richard Brock

by CHLOE X IU BU KRESOV IC

3

W hen I was born in China, God was with

me. Now I live in Canada and God is

with me. I know that God is

everywhere. God is with me with when I am

making pictures for my picture sale to help the

people in Haiti. I get money and give it away to the

kids in Haiti. This is God coming out of me.

God is in the pool when my Dad, my sister and

I swim. God is beside us and happy too. God is our

friend. I do good things for God because I love

Him. God is wonderful. God is a good creator.

Thank you God for loving me.

ALL ABOUT GOD

Page 7: Young Authors Booklet - 2010

“GET UP!!! It’s morning!” said Dad. “It’s TIME FOR SCHOOL”“C-ooo-m-i-nnn-ggg,” said Jack, in a sleepy voice.It was 8:07 a.m. and school starts at 8:15. Jack hurried down the stairs

as fast as he could. He ate breakfast, got his agenda, his homework, hislunch and then changed into his school clothes. When he was done that, hegot ready and put on his boots, his hat, his mittens, his jacket and his scarf.He called his Dad, and then his Dad put on his coat, got his laptop anddrove Jack to school.

“I’M LATE!”It was 8:47 when he got to school. He hurried to the office and got a

late stamp.“Where is Jack?” said his teacher, Mrs. Laskey.“Oh no! My teacher must be waiting for me!” said Jack.He hung up all of his stuff on his hook, got his agenda and all his other

stuff and then went into the classroom and sat down at his desk.“Where were you?” cried Mrs. Laskey.“I was late for school,” said Jack. “See, I have a late stamp.”This was Jack’s first day in second grade.“EVERYONE! TIME TO INTRODUCE YOURSELVES!” Mrs. Laskey

said.“Keith, please introduce yourself to Jack.”“Hi, I’m Keith.”

ElementaryGrades 1 and 2Short Story

SCHOOL: St. Elizabeth SetonTEACHER: Catherine GillespieSCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Jamie ThiersUNIT: Durham Elementary

UNIT PRESIDENT: Dan Gryzwacz

by ADAM MICHAEL GURB IN

4

THE AMAZING FIRST DAYOF GRADE 2

Page 8: Young Authors Booklet - 2010

5

“Ok,” said Mrs. Laskey.“Annie, it’s your turn to introduce yourself to our new student.”“I’m Annie, nice to meet you!”“I’m Brenden.”“Hello, I’m Stephanie.”“And last but not least, Robbie?”“Nice to meet you,” Robbie said.“And now, Jack please introduce yourself to the class.”“Hello everybody, I’m glad to meet all of you. My name is Jack.”“OK, EVERYONE,” announced Mrs. Laskey. “It’s time for recess.”“Huh?” said Jack. “I just got here a few minutes ago.”“I know,” Mrs. Laskey said. “Recess is at 9 o’clock.”Jack put all of his stuff on and went outside for recess. He went to the

sandbox. There he saw Keith and Stephanie playing together.Jack said, “Can I play?”“Sure,” said Keith.They played together until the recess bell rang. DING DING DING!“Recess is over,” said Stephanie.“Come on, let’s go back into class,” said Keith.Then they ate a snack for 20 minutes. For lunch recess, Jack, Stephanie

and Keith decided to go into the science lab. Each student was allowed to gointo a different room in the school to do activities. Jack, Stephanie andKeith loved science. When they went into the science room, they saw a hugemachine in the middle of the room that was attached to a whole bunch ofplugs. On the machine it said TIME MACHINE. They were startled.

“It’s a time machine,” said Jack.“Big deal,” said Stephanie, “I’m wearing a watch right now.”“No!” said Keith and Jack, “It’s a kind of time machine that transports

you to any time.”“Oooohhh!” Stephanie said.“Well, you want to try it out?” asked Keith.“Uuumm, erkk, uummm, ok! Let’s do it!” Stephanie said.All three of them hopped into the time machine. There was all of these

colourful buttons inside the time machine. One said ‘Dinosaur Age.’ Thesecond said ‘Egyptian Time.’ The third one said ‘The Future.’

“Which one should we go into?” asked Stephanie.“How about the future?” Keith asked.“Into the future we go!” said Jack.The time machine started spinning. It spun faster and faster and then it

Page 9: Young Authors Booklet - 2010

6

was silent. Absolutely silent. They all peered out the window through thetime machine. They saw flying cars, steel balloons, hats with arms and apurple sky with silver shiny stars. The bushes were dark green. Theyopened the door to the time machine and took a peek.

“OH MY GOODNESS!” said everyone.“Wow! I can’t believe my eyes!” said Jack.They hopped out of the time machine and started walking around.

Suddenly, the clouds turned dark grey, then thunder and lightning camedown…CRASH!

“I think we should get out of here,” said Keith.They hopped back in the time machine and pressed ‘Egyptian Time.’

The time machine started spinning faster and faster and then they weretransported to the Egyptian time. It was silent. Absolutely silent. Themachine showed the day was October 31. They saw spirits floating aroundeverywhere.

“I’ve read about this before,” said Stephanie. “On each October 31st,spirits rise. They float around until the day is over.”

They got out of the time machine and started walking around. They alsosaw Egyptians eating dinner. They were eating fish, rice and egg.

“I think that’s enough for me,” said Jack.“Yes,” said Keith, “We should go back into the time machine.”“All right, let’s go,” said Stephanie.So they went back into the time machine, closed the door and then

pressed the button ‘Dinosaur Age.’ The time machine started spinningfaster and faster and then it was silent. They opened the door and took onestep out. In front of them they saw eggs.

“Wow! Real dinosaur eggs!” said KeithThey moved along a path in the jungle and saw 3 raptors munching on

another dinosaur. They went further in. There was a T-Rex right there,who looked at them with an angry face. He then started to chase them.

Everyone yelled, “AHHH!”They ran as fast as they could into the time machine and pressed the

button marked ‘Normal.’ The machine spun and spun, then it stopped andit was silent. They were back in the science lab.

“We’re home! At school!” everyone said.They ran out of the science lab and back up to their classroom.

Everyone else had just sat down.Mrs. Laskey said, “So, how was recess?”Keith, Stephanie and Jack just looked at each other.

Page 10: Young Authors Booklet - 2010

ElementaryGrades 1 and 2Poem

SCHOOL: St. TheresaTEACHER: Mary Jo MacDougall

SCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Dinah LeslieUNIT: London District

UNIT PRESIDENT: Sheila Brescia

by COLE MCALL I STER

7

Black is the colour of lonely.

It tastes like a piece of bread with no butter.

It smells like a rotten banana.

It sounds like a morning with no birds chirping.

It looks like a person with no one to play with.

And it feels like you lost your family.

LONELY

Page 11: Young Authors Booklet - 2010

ElementaryGrades 1 and 2Nonfiction

SCHOOL: St. WilliamTEACHER: Janice InnocenteSCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Chris ReaumeUNIT: Windsor-Essex Elementary

UNIT PRESIDENT: Al Anderson

by CARTER MORR IS

8

I n the winter, I play floor hockey everySaturday morning at 9 o’clock. This is mysecond season playing in the Lakeshore Tykes

Division. This year I’m on the blue team. My coach isteaching us to play all positions, but I love to be goaliethe most. When I am not in net I also like to playforward. I always have to pay attention because someof my own teammates try to score on our own net. It isfunny to watch, but they are helping out the otherteam. Maybe someday they will learn to score on theopposite net.

I love to play goalie so I can be just like myfavourite goalie, Martin Brodeur who plays in theNHL for the New Jersey Devils. He is also a goalie forTeam Canada at the 2010 Vancouver Olympic Games.

Hockey is my favourite game. Go Team Canada!

FLOOR HOCKEY FUN

Page 12: Young Authors Booklet - 2010

J ack Pine Train was a path with a whole bunch of trees. Juliawalked through the trail with a pocket full of bird seed. The birdsthat lived in Jack Pine Trail are not afraid of humans, and Julia

loved to hold a handful of seeds high above her head and let the birds landon her hand and takes a seed. It felt like needles, but without the pain. Youhad to stay very still and very quiet for the birds to come, and Julia was anexpert at being very still and very quiet; so much so that a timid deerfollowed closely behind her. The deer was light brown, with white spots andblack hooves. The deer very quietly followed, without Julia’s knowledge allthe way back to her house. Julia had just taken off her coat when she hearda very strange knock on the door. Opening the door cautiously, because sheknew her mom and dad had gone out, she was surprised to find a deer onher front porch.

Julia let the deer in and thought it was the perfect pet (after all, the deerdid follow her home). She knew her parents would never allow it, so shedecided to hide the deer. Julia tried to hide it behind the couch, but itsfluffy tail was sticking out, so Julia taped it down with duct tape. She triedto hide it in the closet, but it was too big, so she stood it on its hind legs.Finally, Julia tried to hide it behind the curtains, but its hooves stuck out.

Julia heard the front door open and knew she was in trouble. Herparents walked in, so she quickly hid the deer behind her back. Her

ElementaryGrades 3 and 4Short Story

SCHOOL: Monsignor Paul BaxterTEACHER: Rob Johnson

SCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Shannon OxleyUNIT: Ottawa

UNIT PRESIDENT: Elaine McMahon

by VERONIKA SHAW

9

OH DEER!

Page 13: Young Authors Booklet - 2010

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parents saw it. Her mom screamed, her dad screamed and they bothfainted.

Once they woke up, she had to bring the deer back. She was very sadwhen she had to walk the deer back into Jack Pine Trail. She slowly fed thedeer bird seed and it gracefully walked back into the woods.

Page 14: Young Authors Booklet - 2010

ElementaryGrades 3 and 4Poem

SCHOOL: St. MartinTEACHER: Susan EinwillerSCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Judy MathanyUNIT: London District

UNIT PRESIDENT: Sheila Brescia

by MAR IA STELLA L IERMAN

11

Boys, boys, they’re everywhere.

Boys, boys, they’re in my hair.

Trying to get under my skin.

Especially annoying when they win,

A game that I don’t want to play.

Making me play almost every day.

When I say, “No!” they tattle to mom.

Mom says, “Honey, I have lots of work. C’mon!”

Boys, boys, playing sports like hockey and soccer.

When it comes to the subject of mocking me they’re quite the mocker.

I think boys should live on Mars,

Instead of stealing and eating all my chocolate bars.

Boys, boys, they’re boogery and hairy.

Who in their right mind would go off and marry…Boys?!

BOYS, ANNOYING BOYS!

Page 15: Young Authors Booklet - 2010

W hat do Albert Einstein, Barack Obama, Sydney Crosby, QueenElizabeth, Ronald McDonald and Taylor Swift all have incommon?

Why of course, they all have curly hair. In my 9 years, I too know whatit is like to live with curly hair — which is often referred to as the ‘fro’.

There are 4 types of curly hair: loose curls, medium, tightly curled orkinky curls. Surprisingly, the average person with natural curls has 2-3different types on his or her head at a time. The ‘fro’ is the mostrecognizable curly hair style. The afro originated in people of Africandescent. It became really popular in the 1960’s and 70’s especially withcelebrities who wanted to be part of this fashionable trend.

So what makes hair curly? Well, the answer is genetics. You inherit itfrom your parents. I get mine from my Dad. He says he used to have lots ofcurly hair but then he became a teacher and it all fell out!

How curly your hair is depends on the shape of the opening, or follicle,from which each hair grows out of. People with straight hair have roundfollicles on their scalp while I have flat openings. No, I do not have a flathead – just flat follicles.

ElementaryGrades 3 and 4Nonfiction

SCHOOL: Monsignor LeeTEACHER: Kelly Lassaline

SCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Sandra StevensUNIT: Simcoe Muskoka Elementary

UNIT PRESIDENT: Robert Harrison

by MITCHELL PELLAR IN

12

WHAT DO ALBERT EINSTEIN,BARACK OBAMA, SYDNEY CROSBY,QUEEN ELIZABETH, RONALD

MCDONALD AND TAYLOR SWIFTALL HAVE IN COMMON?

Page 16: Young Authors Booklet - 2010

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All hair, curly or straight, is made up of a protein called keratin. Believeit or not, this is the same stuff our nails are made up of. Eeewww! Imaginehow hard it would be to go to sleep if nails grew out of your head? Youdefinitely would not want to sleep on an inflatable pillow.

So having curly hair has gotten me some attention over the years -including earning me the nicknames Early Curly and Curly Top. But Irecently found out that I can join a new club thanks to my ‘mop’. The CurlyHair Movement is a group started in the United States and members musthave curly hair. Their aim is to celebrate curly haired people aroundthe world. I haven’t joined yet, but I heard Taylor Swift is now a member(so HELLO I think I’ll be saving up my pennies!).

Curly hair can look cool, but it also takes more work to look after. Ihave to use a pick to comb it instead of a brush. A pick kind of looks like afork, which makes sense since my Dad calls my hairdo ‘my salad.’ It alsogets dryer than straight hair because it does not hold natural oils as well.When it is really hot out, curly hair frizzes up so I can get serious‘mushroom head’. My bed head in the morning is not pretty and I have toapply lots of mousse.

Another way to keep curls in control is to find a good hairstylist. Theysay it is harder to cut curly hair. So, if you have curly hair, take time to finda good place to get it cut. Learn from Ronald McDonald - because if youdon’t, a bad colour job, with a bad haircut, will leave you having adownright... BAD HAIR DAY!

Page 17: Young Authors Booklet - 2010

O ne day, a boy named Bryan had an experience of a lifetime. Inschool, Bryan had been learning about Medieval Times. The classwas being asked to choose a topic for a project their teacher, Mrs.

Patterson, was assigning. Bryan wasn’t thrilled with projects, but had aninterest in medieval weapons and armour so that was what he chose.

Before the end of the day, Mrs. Patterson announced that the grade fiveclass was going on a field trip to a museum the following week. The trip wassupposed to be a fun way to help the students learn more information fortheir project and wrap up the unit. Unlike some of the other kids in theclass, Bryan wasn’t very excited to go on the trip. “This is going to be soboring,” murmured Bryan. He was trying hard to pay attention while Mrs.Patterson babbled on about how hard life was back then and all the detailsabout how people in the kingdom were ranked by social status as eitherpowerful or unimportant. Bryan was hoping he could fake being sick so hewouldn’t have to go, but he had tried that before and when his mom foundout, (which didn’t take her long), he ended up in deep trouble. Bryandidn’t care much for school, but he didn’t want to get a bad mark on hisproject.

After supper that night, Bryan decided to spend some time doing a littleresearch for his project. As he was flipping through an old book aboutmedieval weapons and armour, he noticed one particular sword that was

ElementaryGrades 5 and 6Short Story

SCHOOL: St. JosephTEACHER: Jennifer VendittiSCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Nancy MontesUNIT: Waterloo

UNIT PRESIDENT: Mike Devoy

by OL IV IA N ICOLE SARRE

14

TIMEBLADE

Page 18: Young Authors Booklet - 2010

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said to have magical powers. Bryan was old enough to know there is no suchthing as magic, especially a magical sword! He was unsure if Mrs. Pattersonwould approve the mention of magical things in his report, but Bryan addedit to his information sheet, anyway. He even included a sketch of the sword.

The next day at school, Bryan was given the permission form for hisfield trip to the museum and was surprised to find himself a little moreeager to go. Bryan had become more interested since starting to researchhis topic and spent more time looking for bits of info for his project. He hadeven turned down a couple of friends when they asked Bryan if he wantedto play! To Bryan, right now, work was more important than playing.

On the day of the field trip, Bryan was excited to get into the museumafter the long bus ride. Bryan made his way off the bus that was crammedwith kids, and stepped through the museum doors.

“Wow! This is huge!” exclaimed Bryan, as he stared up at the fourstorey high ceiling. Mrs. Patterson instructed the children where to go,what groups they were in, and all the things teachers say to you on fieldtrips that you already know. When she was finished her talk, Bryan and hisgroup raced up the stairs to the third floor where they found the medievalstuff. All the classmates in Bryan’s group were doing their project onweapons and armour like Bryan.

As soon as they reached the third floor they split up. In a small room atthe end of the hall, Bryan noticed a display of swords!

“Cool!”Luckily, he was the first one to find that spot, so he had it all to himself.

There were many interesting new things to see besides the items he had readabout. He scribbled down a few notes and was about to look for the suits ofarmour when one particular sword caught his attention. It was the oneBryan had seen when researching in that old book...the one that wassupposed to have magical powers. The book had claimed “that if one holdsthe sword in his right hand and points it to the sky, it can take you to adifferent time period.”

Bryan peeked over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching, andhopped the barrier that closed off the area, paying no attention to the signthat said: “NO ENTRY.” Then, he picked the sword up in his right handand held it in the air, just to see if it truly did have magical powers. It washeavy. The metal was cold. It felt good to hold it in his hand, but Bryanhighly doubted anything was going to happen.

All of a sudden, he realized that he was no longer in the museum. Heturned around to find that he was now in a village, a medieval village, and

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he no longer had possession of the sword. Amazed and a little afraid, Bryanbegan to wander around the village. Someone grabbed him from the backand put a bag over his head. He couldn’t see a thing!

When his captor finally reached his destination, after a long and bumpycarriage ride, Bryan didn’t know where he was. He was rudely dragged,stumbling many times up stairs and down hallways before he was untied,and the bag, over his head, was removed. He found himself in a huge palacestanding in front of, a man who appeared to be a king!

“I found him wandering the village while I was out collecting the taxes,”said a richly dressed man that looked to be important. He did not, however,look very strong, so Bryan assumed that he must not have been the one thatcaptured him; it must have been one of the guards who were lurking in thebackground.

“The boy looks rather unusual and suspicious, so I thought shouldbring him in,” announced the tax collector.

“Very well,” said the king. “He could be of use to us. Take him to theservants’ quarters and have him detail the armour and the weapons for ourjousting tournament.”

Bryan was taken to a room that had the look and feel of a dungeon andwas told to get to work with the other servants. Bryan had no idea howmuch more knowledge he would gain about weapons and armour by thisexperience. He was being shown how to clean the armour and sharpen theswords. As he was making his first attempt to sharpen a sword without help,after being corrected and scoffed at a dozen or so times, he noticed one thatlooked familiar. It was the sword from the museum! The very one that gothim into this whole mess! “This might be my chance to go home!” thoughtBryan, excitedly. He repeated what he had done back in the museum, heheld his breath, and raised the sword in his right hand. Finally! He wasback again, safe and sound! He was in the museum’s sword room. Hequickly replaced the sword and ducked back under the rope barrier whichhe wished he had never crossed.

Bryan ran over to a boy named Tim, from his group, and gave him a bighug. Tim looked at Bryan strangely, and asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yes! Yes, I am, now that I’m back!”“What are you talking about?”Tim asked. “You were just in the other

room looking at the swords. It’s been less than ten minutes since I saw you.”“Wow! That’s weird! It felt like I was gone for hours!”“Right now, you’re weird”, said Tim with a confused expression, and

walked away shaking his head.

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“Boy! That was something. I wonder if it was actually real.”Bryan was careful of what he did for the rest of the field trip. On the bus

ride home, Bryan daydreamed about his odd day.Shortly after Bryan had completed his project, he realized he had

learned so much more about Medieval Times because of his time-travelingexperience.

Bryan got an A on his project, and his parents were very proud of him.So was Mrs. Patterson. She was very impressed with all the facts and detailsBryan included in his project. He had picked up lots of those facts anddetails when he was put to work in the castle. Not only did Bryan learn alot about his project topic, but he also learned another valuable lesson fromthis whole experience: rules are for obeying and meant to keep you safe.When you are told not to touch, don’t! It’s for your own good!

Page 21: Young Authors Booklet - 2010

ElementaryGrades 5 and 6Poem

SCHOOL: Our Lady of PeaceTEACHER: Kathleen Boss

SCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Kathleen BossUNIT: Halton Elementary

UNIT PRESIDENT: Richard Brock

by EM ILY ELL IOTT

18

The falling leaves

Cover the trail

Like the velvet of

The red carpet.

With the wild paparazzi

Of the trees

Swaying over them with

The screaming wind

Waiting for the phenomenal

Autumn show to start.

THE FALLING LEAVES

Page 22: Young Authors Booklet - 2010

O ne day, for a change, I walked down a new street when a shop frontcaught my eye. It was a book store, my favourite type of shop. In Iwent, every nook and cranny was overflowing with books. As I was

browsing through the book store, a certain book mark caught my eye. Ithad a magnificent translucent butterfly and faded time piece on it. Writtenon the bookmark was the statement: “The only constant in life is change.”

This bookmark set me to thinking. Let me share those thoughts withyou. First, it made me struggle with the concept of what change is. Then Iwondered how change affects us. Finally, when did change begin?

Change cannot really be defined. The dictionary claims it as going fromone state to another. My grandmother says it’s the way of the world. I thinkit is something you can’t really put your finger on. It is what happens whena chrysalis turns into a butterfly. It is the transformation revealed as yougrow up. It is the magic that occurs when a rainy day paints a rainbow. Buteven so, we all know that change exists. We can measure change because weknow what we were yesterday, and we see what we have become today. Thedifference is change. And sometimes it is scary!

Take for example Uncle Mark and Aunt Heather who have beenworking at a job for many years and suddenly one day a major changeoccurs. There is a recession and they are laid off. They no longer have a jobto go to and yet the bills keep coming and the mortgage has to be paid.That’s scary!!! That’s change.

ElementaryGrades 5 and 6Nonfiction

SCHOOL: Sacred HeartTEACHER: Julie Demaiter Butler

SCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Kathleen LongUNIT: Brant Haldimand-Norfolk

UNIT PRESIDENT: Len McDonald

by CEL INE VEREECKEN SMITH

19

CHANGE

Page 23: Young Authors Booklet - 2010

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You can understand why people resist change. Change disrupts ourroutines and makes us fear failure. We become comfortable in the way wedo things. Then, something takes us out of our comfort zone and WHAM,fear takes over. But does it have to end that way?

Sometimes it takes a major change for us to make a leap of faith. In thecase of Aunt Heather and Uncle Mark, they decided to open their ownbusiness. They opened an ice cream shop – yummy. It is something they hadalways wanted to do but were afraid of changing their lifestyle to try. Itwasn’t easy but it was worthwhile! As Victor Frankl stated, “When we areno longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to changeourselves.” Even now, for them, change will continue to take place.

Keep in mind that there is nothing more constant than this change. It ishappening all around us, everyday. By the time you finish reading this, youwon’t be the same person you were when you began. For one thing you willbe at least five minutes older and hopefully five minutes closer tounderstanding change.

It’s not a question of whether change is good or bad, big or small, fearedor welcomed, it’s how you embrace it. Change has a considerable emotionalimpact on the human mind. To the fearful it is threatening because it meansthat things get worse. King Whitney Jr. says, “To the hopeful it isencouraging because things may get better. To the confident it is inspiringbecause the challenge exists to make things even better.”

It is amazing how something as small as a bookmark can have a hugeimpact on your thoughts. As the famous author, Norman Vincent Peale,once said, “Change your thoughts and you change the world!”

Page 24: Young Authors Booklet - 2010

N othing will make me forget my inquisitive self in Grade 2, howI loved to find answers, and how I.... suffered from mycuriosity. It wasn’t really my fault, but even though I regretted

asking, I would eventually have to face the inevitable.You see in Grade 2, I asked my mother where my father went. The last

time that I had seen him was at the top of the porch steps of my house. Irecall myself frowning at my father’s green and brown uniform and saying,“Daddy, shouldn’t you change into some cleaner clothes?”

“Nah, honey. I need to wear this to where I’m about to go,” he replied.“Where are you gonna go?”“A place that will help keep your freedom.”My already grim expression deepened. “Does Mommy know?”“Yes, of course. Don’t you worry Char, I’ll be back.”“Promise?” My eyebrows already shot up in anticipation for his

response.“Did I ever break a promise to you? No. Now go back inside and tell

your mother to take care of herself. Char, you’re a big girl now.”My chest swelled with pride. “Okay, Daddy. I won’t forget about you!”And I never did.When I voiced my questions about my father’s whereabouts around a

year later to Mom, her eyes became glassy with tears. “He’s dead,Charlotte, and he won’t be able to come back.”

ElementaryGrades 7 and 8Short Story

SCHOOL: Mother TeresaTEACHER: Robynne ValerioteSCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Patricia KennyUNIT: Bruce-Grey ElementaryUNIT PRESIDENT: Anna Morrison

by TAMMY NG

21

I WON’T FORGET YOU DADDY

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“But Mom! He promised me that he would be back!”“No one can control what has to happen to them,” she whispered.“It’s not fair! It’s not fair to me, and to you!” my voice climbed.“Fate never is. I know that this is hard for you Char, but I can’t go back

in time to change things that had already happened.”“YOU HAVE TO! DAD PROMISED!” I shrieked and sobbed with

agony.From that moment forward, my heart withdrew into the deepest corners

of my now frail body. At school, I became the freak who nobody wanted totalk to, and my earlier enthusiasm in both school and home plummeted intonothing. I shut out my mother’s many attempts to try and save me fromdropping the peak of the crumbling cliff I was standing on, with emotionsswirling in the abyss below. My life was slipping from the tight grasp of myfingers, but my mother never gave up. I did get better. A little. But notenough.

In Grade 7, I got a teacher who didn’t care what her students lookedlike. She also didn’t care when I did my annual crying session throughoutthe 2 minutes of silence on Remembrance Day. She was the most persistentand encouraging teacher I had ever met. It only took her four months tomake a breakthrough past the concrete walls I had built around myself overthe years. In no time, I was back to my chipper old self, though it took mea while to start exercising my communication skills, because I wasn’t whatyou would call “social” a few years back. I eventually had to accept thewary stares that were thrown at me daily, with eyes that wondered how longmy charade would last.

Apparently not that long. A month after experiencing my much-deserved happiness, I hopped off the bus after school, elated about the A+I got on my English test. Bounding towards my house, I slammed the screendoor closed and stepped into the cool atmosphere of my kitchen. My motherwas sitting at the table, gripping a cup of black coffee, as if expecting me.She never drank coffee so I knew something was up.

“Hello, honey. How was school?”“Fine,” I responded. Why does her voice sound so cautious, and why do

her averted eyes trigger a memory I didn’t want to remember? Wait asecond, that was the same look she had when she was telling me that...Dadpassed away. Fear gripped my heart, and my breath came in and out,hissing through my teeth.

“What is it, Mom? What’s wrong?”“Nothing’s wrong. I just want you to sort and pack away some things.”

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My rigid shoulders sagged with relief. “Sure, what kind of things?”She then looked at me square in the eye and said, “Your father’s.”Time seemed to slow down to a painstakingly turtle-like pace. Heart

beating erratically, my voice burst with restrained contempt. You could sayI was a bit touchy on this subject. “Pray, tell me, why can’t you do it,Mother? Let’s just say, maybe, for what? 7 YEARS I tried to forget thehaunting memory of my dead father, and you want me to put away hisSTUFF!? What are you, crazy!? Don’t you care about my feelings at all?”An ache that was put to sleep a month ago flared back into my heart andseared my soul.

“I just wanted you to heal to your fullest extent. You seemed so happythese past few weeks, I didn’t want you to always have a negative memoryof your dad. I thought that if you could face his possessions, you won’tbecome as depressed as you were before.”

“Why do you have to do this to me? Can’t you see that I’m happyenough as it is? You can’t do anything more for me, especially telling me todo that.”

“You will sort everything now, and there will be no more to be said onthis subject. They are all in the storage room, and you can move them upinto the attic when you’re done.”

“Why can’t I just shove everything up into the attic?”“I want you to look through some of the things that I’m sure that he

would have liked you to see.”I grunted in response. Trudging up the stairs, I reasoned with myself,

the only thing that kept me from losing control. If I sorted really fast, thenI could get this over with and wipe away any memory I had of thisexperience. I sulked into the storage room and left the door ajar. I twistedmy body to face two large boxes as I settled into a chair. My breath hitchedas I reached for the less intimidating one.

“Be brave Char. You can do it.”I can’t.“He wants you to know.”Know what? And he promised me!“You’ll find out. And that was the past. This is the present. Don’t you

want to grant your father his last wish?”Of course.Opening the box, the first things I saw were letters. Four neat little

bundles, all addressed to my mother. They were all opened and well-worn,so I wasn’t too worried about her privacy. I started reading from the

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earliest to the latest, discovering that countless letters were centeredaround me; asking about my health, my school activities, and myhappiness. In the last letter, he wrote:

“I’m going to my first battle now, so I wrote an additional letter forChar, and you can give it to her when you see fit, but only if somethinghappens to me. Sigh. Afghanistan is such a dreary place. I love you dear,

Your Husband.”

I read this over about three times before everything registered properlyin my mind. He gave me a letter? If so, where is it? I immediately startedsearching for the last words composed by my father. Underneath a pile ofunkempt clothes, I found a crisp, white envelope signed for me. My shakinghands ripped the envelope to shreds as I hungrily read my letter.

Dear Char,I love you. You and I can never change that. The promise that I made

before I left cannot be undone. I hope you can forgive me Char, because Idon’t know if I’m going to live or die in this battle. Always remember thatI did it for you as much as I did it for Canada. Don’t you dare wallow inyour grief and mope about for the rest of your life. You know that adaughter of mine would never do that. I regret not telling you about thesacrifice that I chose to make right at the very beginning. Forever I’ll beyour daddy, Char. Don’t forget about me.

Dad

I know it’s embarrassing, but I admit, a few tears escaped down mycheeks as the earlier lack of life in me was finally filled and whole again.The next box was already sorted, and I began to have a nagging suspicionthat my mom purposely made me come up here, just to read the letters. Forthat, I was grateful. I took a couple of minutes to pack up the first boxbefore hauling both into the attic. As I closed the door firmly behind me, itfelt as if I was shutting the door on my nightmares and pain. I walked backdownstairs to get some juice. My mother was still sitting at the kitchen table,although this time she was pretending to read the newspaper and gauge myreaction at the same time. My smile became warm and I said, “Thanks,Mom. I was really stubborn, wasn’t I?”

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She smiled wanly back, “Well, that’s quite alright.”“Okay. I have to work on my homework right now, especially my

speech. It’s due the day after tomorrow.”My mother took my procrastination in stride. “Oh, my. Well, do you

have an idea yet?”“No.”“Hmmm. Why don’t you do it on Remembrance Day?”Her eyes seemed so calculating. “Did you plan this all out or

something?”“Um, sort of. Sorry.” Her expression became sheepish.“That’s okay. Actually, it doesn’t even seem like a bad idea.”“You’ll consider it? I mean, it could help you learn stuff too.”“Sure, whatever. I’ll be upstairs.” I drained my glass of juice.Every step I took up the staircase, the more the idea appealed to me.

Already my brain was shifting gears. When I sat at my laptop, my fingersflew across the keys. In two hours time, I came up with a pretty decentspeech, if I do say so myself. I wrote from my father’s perspective and howwar was destructive to both families and countries. I talked about my fiveyear depression without my father.

After I had said my speech two days later, my classmates treated mewith more respect, knowing now what I have been through. I went into thegym, and everyone gave me a standing ovation at the end. I received firstplace and also placed first at the Legion.

Still today, I try not to dwell on those, memories. Most of all I realizethat the only way to move ahead with the future, is by knowing andaccepting your past. I won’t forget you Daddy, for your lesson, and foryour love.

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I write a phrase on the page,Then scratch it out again,

Crunch the paper, break the lead,Breathe and count to ten.

I get frustrated as ideas fail;Heartfelt words fall flat.

Rip the loose leaf into shreds.Dry snowflakes on the mat.

They say to write things that are sure,About what you feel and what you know.

But that is not so easy,With lack of mental flow.

I rack my brain for topics,For characters, for places!

I try to locate past perceptions,But my memory leaves no traces.

ElementaryGrades 7 and 8Poem

SCHOOL: St. MichaelTEACHER: Tim Noonan

SCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Derek ThainUNIT: Eastern

UNIT PRESIDENT: Barb Dobrowolski

by EL IZABETH FR IEND

26

WRITER’S BLOCK

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Sunken ship?Did that already.Molecular density?

Don’t think I’m ready.

A poem about a rose?Been done to death.

A poem withasmanywordsinalineastherearebirdsintheskyorfishinthesea?Original, butthefactofthematteristhatIdon’twantreaderstolosetheirbreath.

What about something meaningful?Life lessons? Please!

I heard enough of thoseWhen I was at my parents’ knees.

A poem about love?Now there’s a clichéA poem about a farm?I’m allergic to hay.

A tiny spark is needed,To set a brilliant blaze.I need a little something

That will dazzle and amaze.

A tiny bit of vision,A little inspiration.

With a little bit of sass,I feel some indignation.

The object that in the first placeGave me all this grief?

I need a little writer’s blockTo decorate this loose leaf.

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SCENE ONE(Opens up to a dim lit stage, where we see Tess standing center stage withher head down. Narrator sits stage left and is in a chair.)

Narrator: There are fragile things in life. Many of which aretreated with unkindness. The fragile strength on theoutside is a defensive trick, but the layer of armouris easily cracked by those who care nothing for thepoor being. When such a tragedy occurs, the resultscan be easily disregarded, for ignorance is bliss.Take, for example, the thorns on a rose, they givethe rose a defensive appearance, but the thorns caneasily be demolished; for the thorns merely protectthe tender petals adorning and supporting the life ofthe rose. Although the rose seems durable, the petalsare easily plucked, and when the petals are gone, therose is almost certain to die. The only other livingthing in the world that is just as fragile as a rose, is ayoung girl and her few petals of self-esteem.

ElementaryGrades 7 and 8Play

SCHOOL: St. PaulTEACHER: John Hutfluss

SCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Annie FinchUNIT: Waterloo

UNIT PRESIDENT: Mike Devoy

by NICOLE GARRETT AND KATHLEEN FERGUSON

28

TEN PETALS

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(Girl 1, Boy 2, and Girl 3 enter stage and stand stage right, they noticeTess. The lights shower down on them as they speak in an arrogant andbelittling tone. As they speak they glance over at Tess.)

Girl 1: Did you see what that one chick was wearing thismorning? It burned my eyes. What’s her nameagain? And does she even know what the definition ofa mall is?

Boy 2: She could be kind of pretty...if she lost her baby fat.Ha! Probably not even then!

Girl 3: (Laughs)

Girl 1: C’mon, we should go inside now. Anything to getaway from her.

(Tess bites her nails, and berates herself. Girl 1, Boy 2, and Girl 3snicker rudely and walk off stage right. Tess follows behind them at adistance, hunched over, hiding herself. Faith enters stage right by verylittle and waits for Tess.)

Faith: Hey Tess, you okay?

Tess: When have I ever been okay?

Narrator: This kind of shallow behaviour is nothing new toTess. She’s been enduring the harsh whispers for solong that every blow hurts a bit less than the last, asshe begins to agree with her critics. Eventually herthorns are worn down and the nastiness begins tosteal her petals of self-esteem. Two petals drifted at atorturously slow rate in the direction of noresurrection. With this loss, Tess dies a little moreinside.

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SCENE 2(Open up to stage. Girl 1, Girl 2, Girl 3, Boy 1, Boy 2, Boy 3, Tess, Faithsitting in their seats chatting randomly to each other (not Tess). Mrs.Turgeon is at the front of the room.)

Mrs. Turgeon: Class, settle down, please. Now can anyone tell mewhat John A. McDonald promised British Columbiain return for their joining the Confederation?

(Everyone stays still and silent.)

Mrs. Turgeon: (Sarcastically!) Alright, not everyone at once. Tess,maybe you would like to tell us all the answer.

Tess: (Unsure) Their own police force?

(Students all snicker. Girl 1 turns to Girl 2.)

Girl 1: (Loud and belittling) Wow, could she be any morestupid?

(Mrs. Turgeon sends a stern look towards Girl 1 and Girl 2.)

Mrs. Turgeon: That was rude and uncalled for; you should beashamed of yourselves. Maybe you’d like to shareyour answer with the class?

Girl 1: I’d rather not...

Mrs. Turgeon: Oh, I see you don’t know everything then.

(Girl 1 whispers to Girl 2 with exaggerated loudness. Tess overhears theirconversation.)

Girl 1: Whatever! At least I have the good sense to buyclothes that are in fashion and not antiques.

Girl 2: Yeah, oh, and she probably lost her brain the sameplace she lost her fashion sense.

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Girl 2: Well, wherever that ogre lost them, they’ve beengone for awhile now and aren’t good anymore.Besides, even if they were worth finding, she wouldbe too stupid to look for them.

(Girl 1 and Girl 2 snicker exaggeratingly and pointedly sneer at Tess.Tess looks for help towards her best friend Faith to no avail.)

Narrator: Three more petals descend toward the place ofdisregarded emotions. Tess’ body bends over itselflike a rose when it wilts towards its ceasing existence.

SCENE 3(Open onto stage where Tess is talking with Mrs. Turgeon at centre stageGirl 1, Boy 2, and Boy 3 are offstage on stage right poking only theirheads on stage, listening.)

Mrs. Turgeon: (Encouragingly) Tess, don’t let those girls get youdown. You are a smart and beautiful girl. God sentyou to this Earth for a reason, and I believe that it isto show those types of girls never to belittle anyone.All you can do is be the bigger person and show themhow amazing you really are. And besides, the onlyopinions that matter are the ones of the people wholove you, like Faith. She thinks you’re great.

Tess: (Disbelieving) But I’m not amazing. I’m stupid andfat and ugly. And you see how those people talkabout me, everyone hates me! Faith probably hatesbeing my friend. She knows how gross I am, but justdoesn’t want to admit it.

Mrs. Turgeon: Tess! You need to believe in yourself and howbeautiful you are. I don’t want to hear one moreword of negative talk. The most powerful criticism isthe hatred you have for yourself

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(Tess nods and Mrs. Turgeon exits stage left. Tess remains on the stagelooking down at her feet, still unaware of the eavesdroppers. Girl 1, Boy2 and Boy 3 begin whispering to each other.)

Girl 1: (Sarcastically) Ugh, her...beautiful, I’m so verysure.

Boy 3: The teacher only pretends to like her because no oneelse does.

(Girl 1, Boy 2 and Boy 3 snicker. Tess turns towards them at the sound.They don’t notice that she sees them.)

Boy 2: The only thing special about her is her ability toimpersonate a rock.

(A tear slips down Tess’ face as she steals her way off the stage left.)

Narrator: Mrs. Turgeon said that the most powerful criticism isthat of Tess’ for herself. But Tess knows very wellthat Mrs. Turgeon is wrong, and she has two petalsleft to prove it.

SCENE 4(Tess sits cross-legged stage left by the Narrator. She is reading a book,while Faith stands with Boy 1, Boy 2 and Girl 3 as they talk on stageright. She doesn’t notice the group of peers.)

Boy 2: Faith, why are you even friends with her? I mean,look at her, she’s absolutely a mess! She never standsup for herself; she never participates in anygroups... I’m pretty sure that she gets tutored by arock, too.

Faith: I don’t know. I guess I just feel sorry for her. Yeah,sure, she’s quiet and everything around you guysand she struggles in school, but like, how am I goingto tell her that I don’t want to spend time with heranymore? It’s not like she has any self-esteem to

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spare. I wish I could help her, change her, but I havebeen trying for years and it’s like some invisibleforce is stopping her from trying to fit in. At first Ithought I could help her, but there’s no point.

(Tess looks up at Faith, in so much pain because of Faith’s words, hergroup of peers exit the stage, not noticing the broken Tess.)

Narrator: So I see we have reached the last dying petal of therose. Faith was right; Tess didn’t have any self-esteem to spare. And, like a rose dies with each petalit loses, the delicate and precious flower that is Tessdies as well inside. But a rose can be brought back tolife with a little attention and care, and that really isall that Tess needed, but also what she never got. Tobe loved.

(Tess unfolds from her cross-legged position and curls into herself on theground, crying.)

Narrator: We all know a Tess. No doubt there is someone likeTess in every classroom. In this case the teachertried. In fact, the teacher may have been Tess’ onlyhope, but as it takes more than water to resurrect arose, it takes more than one person to conserve ayoung girl’s self-esteem. Unless you have felt the painthat someone like Tess has, you do not fullyunderstand your impact on any person, and so Ileave you with this: Give someone with a brokensense of confidence what they need. And save a life,because although self-loathing does not cause death,in most cases, it is just as painful.

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W ith his heart beating in his throat, Michael Dwight stood in hisgirlfriend’s parents’ garden waiting to pop the big question. “MayI take your daughter as my wife?” The parents stopped weeding

and slowly looked up. “No, you can’t,” they said which was followed by aseries of yelling in their native language, Tagalog. Although this wasn’t theanswer he was looking for, he expected it and even thought that itstrengthened his and his girlfriend’s relationship. He knew he would haveprobably offended his girlfriend’s traditional parents because of hisbackground and the pigment of his skin. He recalls this one of the hardestparts of being integrated into the Filipino Community, “I felt uncomfortable,I had spent only a few minutes over the last year talking to either of themand to go in cold and ask such a huge question was intimidating. I got mycourage together to ask for their permission to marry Alma.”

Michael Arnold Dwight began dating his Filipino girlfriend, AlmaTsiangsing, in October of 2000. Knowing the fact that he was white andCanadian would offend her strict traditional parents, Michael and Almakept their relationship secret for a while. With the already lowexpectations, but with a lifetime of love between them, they decided to goahead with the marriage proposal. They knew that in time Alma’s familywould eventually accept her soon-to-be-husband. This led to Michaelmeeting the first people in the Filipino community to accept him truly- theyounger cousins.

ElementaryGrades 7 and 8Nonfiction

SCHOOL: St. JamesTEACHER: Kevin Mitchell

SCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Michelle MulliganUNIT: Windsor-Essex Elementary

UNIT PRESIDENT: Al Anderson

by FRANCIS DELLOSA

34

THE CLASH BETWEENCULTURES: A STORY ABOUTLOVE, PERSISTENCE AND

UNDERSTANDING

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“Eventually we went to visit some out-of-town relatives and theyaccepted me. They were the first adults I met as ‘Alma’s boyfriend’ andthey welcomed me with open arms. This is; when I learned my first Tagalogwords and ate pansit, adobo and longanesa. This is when the integrationbegan but there was a long road ahead. When we got back to Windsor it wasback to reality.”

Alma worked at the dollar store with many Filipinos and when they gotengaged she kept her ring hidden, wearing it on a safety pin attached to herundershirt. As rumours of their relationship became a reality to herparents, they began making her life harder, “Her father was quite unhappywith my ethnicity and wrote her a letter disowning her, which prompted herto move.” Although they had been engaged for months, it had remained asecret between the two, knowing that her parent’s already disapproveddampened their spirits a little. There were some factors leading to thedisapproving thoughts, mainly because of the cultural differences whichhad other problems sprouting outwards like an umbrella because of it. Allthe problems were related to that one.

Despite cultural differences though, Michael did feel accepted by someof the family, “While many in the family didn’t accept me because I waswhite or because I already had a child from another woman it seemed likemore than half did accept me. As time went on I felt more and morewelcomed and now I feel like a part of the family.” Now with growingapproval, nothing seemed to stop Michael and Alma from going on with themarriage, “We went ahead anyway and her parents came on boardsometime before the wedding, contributing financially and helping with allaspects of the wedding and our relationship.” This would be a turning pointinto a long and prosperous marriage.

While trying to work his way around the traditions of his in-laws, healso had to work around the traditions and religious teachings of his ownfamily, “It was exciting to join another culture. It was also intimidating.There were a lot of differences in the cuisine; I found much of the foodunappealing but I ate as to not be rude. Also, even though we were bothCatholic (my father) there were many religious differences, it was hard tobe myself and still accommodate them because they are sometimes verypushy with their religion.” Michael overcame this, though, with no sign ofregret. He knew that everything he did was worth it in the end.

Even after the wedding there was still a struggle. Most of which was thelanguage barrier. Michael loved to talk and could go on for hours aboutanything, “Wouldn’t this be great considering the loads of talking the

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Filipino culture does on a daily basis?” Not quite, but it would change overtime. He had a difficult time communicating with Alma’s family because hedid not know how to speak their language, but over time, and with somemore experience, it became less of a problem. But the years after started tobecome more sad when the younger cousins he had been used to andinteracted with in the family started to grow up. “A hard thing from todayis all the kids growing up. Being that I don’t speak Tagalog fluently, I havealways spent my time with the English speakers; the kids. Now that theyhave grown up and have social lives, they are around less and it leaves mewith no one to talk to. It made family functions boring and decreased thelikelihood that I would even attend, which put stress on our relationship.Eventually it pushed me to learn to speak Tagalog.”

Michael now has a deep understanding and relationship with his in-lawsand has even become a godfather to one of his wife’s cousins. When askedto share a positive memory of being in a Filipino family he replied, “Anamazing experience for me in this Filipino family was going to Great WolfLodge with the Dellosa family. It truly showed me how much I was a part ofthis family. Her parents paid for the trip and invited us to go. As an adultwith a family of my own I haven’t had another set of adults pay for my tripsince mine did when I was a kid. It really showed me that they wanted methere. I got to run and play and swim with the kids and at night have a beerand relax with the adults. It was a clear outward symbol that the kidslooked up to me and loved me like an uncle or older cousin while stillthinking of me as a peer that they could enjoyably spend time with. It alsoshowed me that her parents thought of me as an equal, as an adult, as oneof their peers that they loved and respected and wanted to be around. Allof the other aunts and uncles treated me like one of the kids even though Iam 32, own a house, two cars and have kids of my own.”

He now feels truly accepted into the family and his wife and two childrenkeep him company along with the cousins and people he has met by beingintegrated into the Filipino community, he feels truly happy. “Today I feelenriched and lucky to have expanded my horizons so much. I think of therich cultural experiences my children will experience and will experience inour Scottish-Filipino-Canadian household. I am learning to speak Tagalogso I can teach my kids and give them a home that they can speak it in. Ithink of the perspective I had as a youth, basically being a white Anglo-Saxon Protestant (from my Mother), growing up in a predominantly whiteBritish neighbourhood, my children will have a far richer experience thanI had!”

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I t was clear first impressions weren’t important to him. I knockedon his door one Saturday morning. I had a plate of cookies readyto be presented to his mother as a ‘welcome to the neighbourhood’

gift, only to be greeted by a disgruntled, half asleep boy. He was rubbing hiseyes, brown hair untamed and in disarray, sticking up in all places. I raiseda brow, half expecting him to fall over in a narcoleptic coma.

Instead, he looked up to me with eyes the shade of fresh grass. Then hegrinned, the silver of a retainer striking through his smile, “I’m Ian Chase.”

“...Allegra Desmond. We live across the street,” I quickly introduced,pointing over my shoulder to the much smaller house behind me. I thenshoved the platter of baked goods in his face like an offering to a beast. Helooked at the plate curiously, as if he were looking for any poison or sharpobjects, then looked to me, green irises meeting my blue ones.

Ian plucked one off, shoving all of it in his mouth. We stood in partialsilence, the only sound being his loud chewing and my foot tapping on thewooden patio. He murmured approvingly and took the plate into his house,slamming the door in my face without another word.

A few days after our first encounter, I had decided to go to the park. Itwas already well into summer and there were the usual children frolickingabout, playing on the swings and splashing in the wading pool. Why I wasat the park was beyond me. Something had possessed me to get up and walk

SecondaryGrades 9 and 10Short Story

SCHOOL: Loretto AbbeyTEACHER: Andy Cluff

SCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Marcel CignaUNIT: Toronto Secondary

UNIT PRESIDENT: René Jansen in de Wal

by VANESSA GEA M . TOLENT INO

37

IAN CHASE, THE BOYWITH NO FEAR

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for fifteen minutes in the sweltering heat, just so I could sit under a tree anddo nothing.

I was planted on the ground, my fingers idly pulling at the grass. I wasfaintly reminded of Ian, who I hadn’t gotten word nor sight of in ages. Mylips curled into a frown. I couldn’t say I didn’t like him, but our lastconversation wasn’t something I’d smile about. There was a loud hootingfrom behind me and by some stroke of ill chance, there he was, sitting in ashopping cart on top of a large hill.

Behind him was one of his new friends, a kid who I had known for a longtime, by the name of Jamie Strauss. For a moment, I wondered what theywere doing, but then my eyes wandered down the hill and caught sight ofthe pool that was at the base. I pursed my lips and against my betterjudgement, decided to try to prevent the accident that was waiting tohappen, which also meant getting involved with the impending disaster.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I questioned, my hands on my hipsas I glared at the brown haired boy. Ian shrugged.

“Remind me again, which side is the deep end?” Ian inquired, ignoringmy question all together. I rolled my eyes.

“The one furthest away from the bottom of the hill,” I replied instantly,“But that’s not the point. Do you want to get killed?”

“No, but it’s not like I plan to,” he retorted, laughing as if he did this allthe time.

Jamie whistled in the background, sensing the tension in the air. Iansimply let out a small chuckle before he started counting down. If Ian didn’tcrack his skull open in the pool, he would surely break a few bones and ruinhis summer all together. Right before he reached one, and Jamie let go ofthe cart, I stopped him, pulling the metal death trap back to a more stableand less steep part of the hill.

“Are you stupid?” I exclaimed, slapping him on the head. “Aren’t youafraid of breaking something? You could easily kill yourself. How old areyou, ten?”

My questions didn’t phase him and he poked my fingers off the handle.“I’m sixteen with an eighty percent average. I’m not ten and I’m not stupidbut most of all, I’m not afraid of anything.”

With that, he managed to make my grip go lax and was sent on a clearpath to a hospital room. Ian wasn’t screaming in fear, he was howling inamusement. He narrowly avoided colliding into a family picnic and a bunchof kids playing red rover, but he also missed the pool all together andcrashed into a tree. I let out a small squeak before running down to survey

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the damage with Jamie on my tail. It was times like these where I realizedwhy they said kids should always wear helmets.

A few feet from the pool was Ian in the beat up shopping cart. There wasalready a crowd of people forming around him, from curious children toconcerned adults. Jamie and I pushed passed the thick wall of people andset eyes on the green eyed boy who was laughing hysterically on the ground.He was miraculously unscathed. I was about to smack him upside the head,but realized he could have had a concussion or something, which couldexplain why he refused to answer any of the endless questions.

Jamie helped him out of the cart and clapped him on the shoulder. Theyhigh-fived as Ian made his way towards me. “Not dead, not broken, notscared.”

“But still stupid,” I remarked, wiping his stupid grin off his face.“Better go get that checked. It might be contagious.”

I received a personal visit from Ian a week after his performance withthe shopping cart. During that week, we bantered at the pool and at thelocal pizza place, but we never really got a chance to talk one-on-one.Maybe that was why I was so surprised.

“Good afternoon,” he said, creeping up behind me and jerking theswing back. I yelped and turned around, glaring at him from my new foundspot on the hard ground. My face scrunched up as he held out his hand forme to take. Reluctantly, I took it and he helped me up.

“I guess you could say that,” I chuckled, wiping the dirt off my pantsbefore leaning on the tree. “What brings you over?”

“Aside from your mother’s amazing cookies? I just wanted to talk toyou. I know, I know, you’re honoured,” he explained, bowing in arrogance,“Oh, and I returned your plate.”

I rolled my eyes. Ian wasn’t a bad guy. Actually, he was pretty nice,from what I had heard from people like Jamie. He was smart but stupid atthe same time. The people in the neighbourhood called him the ‘boy with nofear’ after his stunt at the park, which preceded his pogo stick jump intothe same pool he tried to steer himself into only a day before.

“But really, I just wanted to see how you were doing,” Ian admitted,brushing his foot against the grass.

I put my hand to my heart and gasped, “Ian Chase, here to socializewith me? It must be the apocalypse or something,” I chuckled. “But I’mdoing very good, thanks for asking.”

“You’re real uptight, you know?” he laughed. I raised a brow.“What? What gave you the impression that I was uptight?” I questioned.

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He only laughed harder.“Well, first of all, you were all dramatic over me going down the hill with

the cart. I never get hurt. Second of all, whenever I see you out, you’realways with the same people. I almost wonder if you have any other friends.Thirdly, you never take any risks. And lastly, you never ever come over tomy house. And that cuts real deep, Allegra, real deep,” Ian pretended thathe was shot and clutched his stomach, falling to the ground.

“I’m not uptight, just mature,” I replied, grinning at his performance.“And it’s not like you open the door and invite me over.”

“Which brings me to the second point of why I’ve decided to walk all theway here,” He got up and dusted himself off, “My birthday is next Friday.”

I never took any risks because I knew the consequences. I hung out withthe same people because they were the only ones I really trusted, and Iwasn’t being dramatic. I was just looking out for a friend. But since whendid I regard Ian as a friend? I barely knew him.

“And?”“I think you should come over, since our parents are pretty good friends

and all. You don’t even have to bring a present,” Ian smiled. How could Iresist?

I finally realized that I just might have a little crush on Ian Chase. Butit was just a possibility. It was probably the reason why I was across thestreet, dressed in the nicest clothes I could find, holding a card with a nicegift card tucked inside it, eager to just get this whole thing over with. Hecame over a lot more often after I agreed to go to his little party.

In only seven days, I had learned a lot about him. His favourite subjectwas history, he was allergic to bees and his dream job would be being atravel writer. As it turns out, Ian had rightfully earned his title as the boywith no fear. He had been sky diving, bungee jumping and shark cagediving all last summer.

But in exchange I had told him a lot about myself. He knew that myfavourite colour was periwinkle, my parents were divorced and my brotherdied in the war a few months ago. I guess he was truly one of my friends,now that he knew those things.

“You made it! Great! We need someone to sit in the dunk tank,” Iansaid, opening the door and pulling me inside. My eyes widened and he letout a howling laugh.

“I’m just kidding! You should’ve seen your face!” he slapped his kneeand brought me into the backyard. I recognized a few people, Jamie beingone of them. There was indeed a dunk tank as well as a pool.

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“You never told me you had a pool,” I remarked. Ian laughed again. Itseemed that he really liked to laugh, even if it was at other people’s expense.

“You never asked. See? I told you, you were uptight.”I pouted, which only made him laugh again. “Didn’t know what to get

you.”“A piece of plastic! It’s exactly what I wanted! Thank you, Allegra!” he

exclaimed, never really stopping to breathe. Ian just kept laughing as if hehad heard the best joke in the world.

The party was pretty good. Someone threw up because they were lactoseintolerant and they had indulged themselves in the cheese and crackerplatter and one of Ian’s baby cousins threw a fit because his balloonexploded in his face, but other than that there was nothing really wrongwith the party. It seemed to flow on its own.

I was surprised to see how many people Ian knew. There were a lot ofpeople from our school as well as his large family, including two brothers,one sister, his parents and a bunch of cousins. For the most part, Ian wasdoing a good job at hosting, keeping everyone entertained with some sort ofnew trick that he had picked up over the summer. He flipped into the pool,dived from the oak tree and purposely belly flopped to stop his brotherfrom crying. They liked to laugh at other people’s expense as well.

The last I had checked, it was eleven o’clock and I was doing my best tofind Ian, tell him thanks for inviting me and leave but instead, he found me,a big grin on his face. I cocked my head to the side and followed him as herummaged in his pocket, producing a set of keys.

“Let’s go for a drive. I’ll show you something even someone as uptightas you will like,” Ian still had that ear to ear smile on his face. I trusted hisjudgement and followed him to his car.

We had been driving for at least five minutes when I decided to breakthe silence. “You know, when I first saw you, I was pretty sure you were alazy pig. I hope you know that.”

“Sometimes first impressions aren’t important,” Ian reasoned, nevertaking his eyes off the road. “But then again, I thought you were uptightthen and nothing’s changed, yet.”

I scoffed, “If first impressions aren’t important, what do you deemimportant?”

“I like last impressions better. If that makes any sense. I mean, whenyou say goodbye to someone, they’ll remember you for the last things youdid, not the beginnings. I don’t believe in first impressions because peoplecan change and if people judged others solely off of their first impressions,

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they aren’t worth knowing because they don’t take the time to get to knowyou. You get it?”

I paused for a moment, taking it in slowly. “Yeah, that makes sense.”We were driving through downtown now. It was still really busy because

it was Friday, and cars were honking while people were out clubbing andpartying. We sat in silence for a minute or two before he laughed.

“But that’s why I like you. Maybe you’re a bit uptight, sometimes, butyou didn’t just think I was some lazy kid. All of the other people just knowme as the irresponsible guy who rode a shopping cart into a tree. You knowme as the guy who likes to do crazy things because you never know when it’stoo late.” I nodded. I never really guessed that I was one of the only onesthat knew Ian as much as I did, but for some reason I felt special becauseof it.

He laughed. I kind of liked the sound of his laugh. It was somewhatmelodic. The lights of the city reflected in his grass coloured eyes. Helooked really happy, and that thought made me feel happy too. It wasn’t hisstupidity that was contagious. It was his smile.

As we continued driving, we got to a less crowded part of the city.Everything was relaxed. We hadn’t said a word for a long time and fell intoone of those comfortable silences where no one really has anything to saybut it doesn’t feel awkward. From the corner of my eye, I could feel himstaring at me, but I didn’t turn to meet his gaze, and just shook my headand smiled.

We were going past an intersection. The light was green and we weredoing the right thing by driving along, but the bright lights coming from theother side of the intersection made me regret ever getting in the car withhim. Ian noticed the lights a moment too late and swerved to the right,trying to avoid the incoming truck. There were a few seconds wheneverything went in slow motion and the only things I could hear were thesound of his car crashing against the other, and the screech of tires.

I smelled smoke. I smelled blood. I smelled impending death. I gulped,finding myself sandwiched between a cracked door and an airbag. Painstruck through my arm and I realized that it had been cut open by brokenglass. I could feel warm blood dripping down the side of my face. One of mylegs was twisted in ways that were unnatural and for a few moments, I couldonly cry out in pain, letting tears slide down my face.

Then I remembered Ian. He was slumped over on an airbag as well,blood staining the white fabric red. I gulped, using my uninjured hand to

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tap him on the shoulder. He slid to the side a bit closer to me when his headfinally landed in my lap. He was smiling, a trickle of blood making its wayout of the side of his mouth.

“Are... Are you alright?” he asked, his voice raspy. I managed to nod,but I knew he was much more damaged than me. One half of his face wasstained crimson.

“I should be asking you that,” I choked out. I was sure that I broke anarm.

There was the sound of police sirens in the distance, but that was it. Itwas the same comfortable silence that we had been in before. I looked intohis eyes, the colour of fresh grass.

“You never take risks.”I mentally laughed and I kissed him on the lips, the metallic taste on my

tongue not deterring my actions. As I pulled away, he tried to laugh butinstead he coughed. I caught a flash of fear in his eyes, but it was gone inless than a second.

“Are you scared?” I questioned. His eyes were closing slowly and Imentally urged him to stay awake, for him to keep breathing. Salvation wasso close, we could both hear it.

“Not anymore.”

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To the children of Sri Lanka,Who waste away in the sweat of labour,Whose hands should be held and not beaten.May your loads be lightened,Your dignity unforsaken,And your freedoms remain yours to hold.

To the children of Rwanda,Who have witnessed the slaughter of their families,Whose innocence should have been given and not taken.May your pain be eased,Your resolve unshakeable,And your happiness remains yours to live.

To the children of Rio de Janeiro,Who live in the shanty towns of the favelas,Whose hours should be spent learning and not scavenging for food.May your thirst be quenched,Your pride unscathed,And your dreams remain yours to embrace.

SecondaryGrades 9 and 10Poem

SCHOOL: Holy TrinityTEACHER: Jennifer Finnie

SCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Andrew StancekUNIT: Brant Haldimand Norfolk

UNIT PRESIDENT: Len McDonald

by REBECCA ANNE LACROIX

44

TO THE CHILDREN

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To the Children of Afghanistan,Who tremble as the bombs explode,Whose feet should walk in fields of flowers and not of mines.May your spirits be unbreakable,Your courage infallible,And your hopes remain yours to bear.

To the children of Sierra Leone,Who fight men’s wars of justification,Whose time should be spent playing and not killing.May your guilt be forgiven,Your hearts untainted,And your humanity remain yours to keep.

To the children of Haiti,Who have lost their parents in the rubble,Whose hearts should be singing and not crying.May your struggles not be forgotten,Your strength everlasting,And your futures remain yours to live.

To the children of the worldWho know only poverty and war,Who know only pain and suffering,Whose bellies should be full and not empty,Whose battles should be won and not lost,May your burdens be lifted,May your lives be eased,Your souls purified,Your voices heard,And may your childhoods remain yours to keep.

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(Scene: family sitting around the table, eating their dinner. It is about6:00 PM.)

(Overlapping conversation from Mom, Lucy, and Adrian. Dad is quiet,thinking. Jeffrey coughs; pokes at his food with a fork but does noteat it.)

Mom: Lucy, honey, could you please pass the potatoesdown to your father?

Lucy: Sure. (Reaches for the bowl in front of her andpasses it to Dad)

Dad: (Dazing, unfocused look in his eyes, snapped out ofhis daydream when Lucy put the bowl in front ofhim) Oh, Lucy. I didn’t see you there.

Mom: With that look in your eyes, it looked like you werefar gone, honey.

SecondaryGrades 9 and 10Play

SCHOOL: ResurrectionTEACHER: Suzanne Smart

SCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Anne Charters-KlaverUNIT: Waterloo

UNIT PRESIDENT: Mike Devoy

by RALUCA TOPL ICEANU

46

NOW YOU’RE GONE

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Lucy: Yeah, daddy, you look like this...(drags her handsdownward over her eyes) You look like a zombiedaddy. Doesn’t he, Adrian?

Adrian: Quit talking with your mouth full. It’s rude.

Lucy: You’re so mean, Adrian! I don’t like you.

Adrian: I’m your brother; you don’t have to like me. I’mstuck with you, whether you like it or not.

Lucy: Nah! I don’t have to be your sister!

Adrian: Sorry, squirt. The contract was signed when youwere born. (Jeffrey coughs in the background)

Lucy: Nahaaa!

Adrian: Yes.

Lucy: No!

Adrian: Yes.

Lucy: No!

Adrian: Yes.

Lucy: From now on, I’m only Jeffrey’s sister. He’s a lotnicer than you! Okay, Jeffrey?

Jeffrey: (Coughs) Alright, Lucy.

Lucy: (Looks at him for a long time) You know what? Ifyou cut your hair, I wouldn’t be able to tell you andAdrian apart. (Tugs gently on a strand of Jeffrey’shair)

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Jeffrey: Would you prefer that I cut it?

Lucy: No! I don’t want to confuse you with Adrian. You’realways nicer to me than he is.

Jeffrey: (Smiles weakly) I’m not that nice.

Lucy: But you always tuck me in at night and read mebedtime stories and help me with my homework...Adrian, why can’t you ever be nice?

Adrian: I’ve helped you with your homework tons of timesand who’s the one that always chases away thepeople who keep making fun of you at recess?

Lucy: I don’t remember any of that!

Adrian: Mom, Lucy’s bothering me.

Mom: Lucy, quit antagonizing your brother.

Lucy: I’m not bothering him.

Adrian: Yes you are.

Lucy: No, I’m not!

Adrian: Do you ever hear yourself?

Lucy: No.

Adrian: It’s annoying. Now, stop it.

Lucy: No — !

Dad: (Slams his fist down on the table) Shut up, both ofyou! (Jeffrey coughs) And you, too! Stop your damncoughing!

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Mom: Ivan!

Adrian: (Jabbing his fork in his mashed potatoes) Leave himalone. He can’t help it.

Mom: Adrian!

Lucy: (Whispering) You’re in trouble now.

Dad: (Glaring at Adrian) What did you say, boy?

Jeffrey: (Whispering) Please let it go. I don’t mind.

Adrian: (Loud voice) You heard what I said. I said leavehim alone.

Dad: Didn’t I teach you to better respect your elders?

Adrian: Respect, sir? What’s that?

Mom: (Pushing them apart) Now Ivan, I know you must bestressed but you can’t get carried away. Adrian, eatyour food and stop bothering your father.

Adrian: Yes, ma’am.

Mom: Seriously, Ivan, what has gotten into you?

Dad: (Sigh) It’s this war with Communist North Vietnam,it’s all over the papers. Only a few weeks ago weheard about a US ship being attacked by the NorthVietnamese unprovoked, and now they’re draftingsoldiers, (takes letter out of pocket and puts it onthe table, opened) I got that in the mail today.

Mom: (Gasps) So soon?

Dad: I’m afraid so, Judith.

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Lucy: What does it say?

Mom: (Takes the letter out of the envelope and reads withshifty eyes) “The Government of the United Stateswould like to inform you that your son ...” (shepauses, her mouth gaps open) “...will be drafted forthe US army. He will contribute much and should behonoured to be fighting for the freedom andprotection of his country, as should all soldiers. Heshall be retrieved tomorrow at 0700 hours...” Ivan,is there anything we can do to stop this?

Dad: It’s either answering our country’s call or jail. Or...

Mom: Or?

Dad: We could leave the country.

Mom: Leave? Leave this house, this place? Where would wego? We have everything here, we have jobs andmoney. We can’t just throw it all away!

Dad: I know, Judith.

Lucy: Mommy, what does the letter mean?

Mom: It means that someone from our family has to go andhelp fight over in Vietnam, honey.

Lucy: Does the letter say who needs to go?

Mom: Well, yes —

Dad: Judith, we mustn’t fool with ourselves. We alreadyknow who’s going.

Jeffrey: (Gets up from the table abruptly) Thank you fordinner, mother.

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(Leaves to his and Adrian’s room)(Door shuts)

Adrian: How dare you! He’s your son! You can’t treat himthat way!

Dad: And why wouldn’t I? He’s my son. Besides, whatgood would he do here? You know this pitiful statehe’s in; a boy like that wouldn’t be able to help me atthe garage.

Adrian: Why keep me, then?

Dad: You already know why; you already know the thingsyou can do that he can’t. Adrian, you’re too strongfor us to let your talents get wasted on this war.You’re smart, healthy and what good would it do ifyou if you got killed over in Vietnam? For him it’sdifferent. He’s weak and he couldn’t havecontributed much to this family anyway. We canspare him.

Adrian: You’re thinking like a farmer who checks hischickens’ young – the ones that look healthy can live,but ones with small defects have no choice but to die.

Dad: What Jeffrey has is not a small defect; he’s anaemic.You could do something with your life, he can’t. Theonly thing he’s useful for is holding a rifle andmaking sure the US government doesn’t comedrafting any more people in this house.

Adrian: (Rises noisily from table, chair falls back) You’resick!

Dad: (Slaps son over the face) Mind your tongue, boy!

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Mom: (Throws down her fork on her plate) Enough! Bothof you! All I want is to have a peaceful dinner withmy family, is that too much to ask? Adrian? Ivan?

Lucy: (Whispers) Told you that you’re gonna get it.

Mom: (Glares disapprovingly at Lucy) Hush, Lucy. Eatyour food now. Ivan, sit down, don’t raise yourblood pressure.

Dad: (Sits down) Go to your room boy. Say goodbye tothat brother of yours. He’ll be gone tomorrowmorning.

Adrian: Yes, sir. Right away, sir. (Takes Jeffrey’s plate andgoes to his room)

(Adrian opens door. Jeffrey is sitting on the floor. He looks up when hesees Adrian. Adrian shuts the door. Arguing from Mom and Dad areheard faintly in background.)

Adrian: (Sits beside Jeffrey; puts Jeffrey’s plate down infront of him) You didn’t eat anything at all.

Jeffrey: (Coughs) I think you are the only one who noticed.

Adrian: (Smiles) Yup, and I’m not leaving you alone untilyou finish everything on this plate.

Jeffrey: I’m not hungry.

Adrian: You just think you’re not hungry.

Jeffrey: No, I really can’t eat anything else. I’m full.

Adrian: Full of what? It’s like you ate nothing for the pasttwo days.

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Jeffrey: I know.

Adrian: It’s because of dad, isn’t it?

Jeffrey: (Looks away) Part of it.

Adrian: Well, dad’s not here anymore, I am. He’s not goingto be yelling at you or-

Jeffrey: He’s right. Everything he said is right.

Adrian: (Puts his hand on Jeffrey’s shoulder) He’s not right.

Jeffrey: I heard every word. I agree with him. (Looks atAdrian’s face) He hit you.

Adrian: Just a bit.

Jeffrey: I know how hard he hits; it must hurt a lot.

Adrian: He hit you again?

Jeffrey: (Nods; pulls back the blonde hair from his foreheadto reveal a bruise) Yesterday.

Adrian: What for?

Jeffrey: Skipping school. Everyone there treats me like ahandicap; I didn’t want to stay.

Adrian: Hurry up and eat your mashed potatoes; it’s gettingcold.

Jeffrey: (Hugs Adrian) You’re the only one who cares aboutme.

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Adrian: You’re my brother, we’re a family. When one of usgets hurt, the other feels the pain. That’s what itmeans to be twins.

Jeffrey: You’re probably going to be the only one who willmiss me.

Adrian: You’re not going anywhere with that fever.

Jeffrey: It would be better with me gone. Dad is right; betterthe worthless son gets killed than the one who isstrong and healthy.

Adrian: There’s nothing wrong with you.

Jeffrey: I’m anaemic; weak and frail and useless.

Adrian: You’re thinking like dad! You’re only looking atwhat he sees as a weakness. What about yourpersonality? What about your character? You’renicer than I am; you’re the nicest person I know.

Jeffrey: Lucy said I was nice. But she was wrong. You’re thenicer one, for you have allowed someone as weakand as useless as me to matter to you. You talk tome as if I deserve to live, as if I’m not just a burdenthat no one wants. Even mother regrets having me.Our parents will be happier when they no longerhave me to bother with, (smiles weakly). Besides,I’m happy to go if it means that nothing bad willhappen to you.

Adrian: I won’t let you go. Never.

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Next morning...

(Scene: 12:24 PM. Dad wakes up and heads to the kitchen. He sees oneof his sons staring out the window of the living room.)

Dad: (Yawns) Did that brother of yours leave already,Adrian?

Adrian: He’s gone...(tear falling down his face as he looksout the window.)

(Flashback scene – You know what? If you cut your hair, I wouldn’t beable to tell you and Adrian apart.)

(Close-up on the scissors in Son’s pocket...and the crumpled piece ofpaper beside it that reads: “The Government of the United States wouldlike to inform you that your son, Adrian Simoneu, will be drafted for theUS army. He will contribute much and should be honoured to be fightingfor the freedom and protection of his country, as should all soldiers. Heshall be retrieved tomorrow at 0700 hours.”)

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I magine a world where all human beings were treated with equality-where a man could walk down the street and not be judged by hiscolour; where all workers received equal benefits and equal pay;

and where no one would feel left out because of their gender, race,appearance, and abilities. Imagine a world without discrimination.

Sadly, this dream of a utopian world is clouded with the truth thatdiscrimination is an age old problem that has been affecting society eversince humans have inhabited the earth. Prejudice and discrimination arenegative manifestations of power differences, which pull people apartrather than bring them together. The Dalai Lama once said, “From theviewpoint of absolute truth, what we feel and experience in our ordinarylife is all delusion. Of all the various delusions, the sense of discriminationbetween oneself and others is the worst form, as it creates nothing butunpleasant[ness].” This message is spoken through numerous forms ofliterature and media, such as Lord of the Flies, Animal Farm, Gone, andPocahontas, where characters are exposed to life under the command ofsomeone else. Though each of these are fictional accounts of discrimination,they deliver true messages to the audience because they model how powerinequities influence humans to have a predisposition for treating otherswith injustice.

With all the irrational forms of discrimination in our world, the simplequestions of “why?” and “how?” emerge. Why have people always had the

SecondaryGrades 9 and 10Non Fiction

SCHOOL: ResurrectionTEACHER: Suzanne Smart

SCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Anne Charters-KlaverUNIT: Waterloo

UNIT PRESIDENT: Mike Devoy

by MONICA MAZUR

56

RISING ABOVEDISCRIMINATORY

BEHAVIOUR AS A RESULT OFPOWER IMBALANCES

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tendency to discriminate, and under what circumstances does intoleranceoccur? The concept of discrimination is complex, consideringdiscrimination often traces back to few individuals. People with a higherpolitical or social status are able to perpetuate their views of others with thehelp of their followers. However, before this could be done, the rise topower must be achieved, whether by means of voting or in a tyrannicalfashion. The latter is demonstrated in Lord of the Flies when Jack usesviolence and threats to gain authoritarian power over the boys.1

Manipulation is a tactic used by tyrants in search of power, as shown inAnimal Farm when Squealer and Napoleon manipulated animals into doingwhat they wanted. “Long live comrade Napoleon! Napoleon is alwaysright!” were the words constantly repeated by Squealer for the purpose ofmaking the other animals think the same way.2 Similarly, the first emperorof China, Qin Shi Huangdi, took part in propaganda by making the peopleof his country believe he was divine. Over history, manipulation has provento be an effective method of gaining followers for tyrants and leaders alike.

Another common tactic used by people who want to stay in power isterror. As said by Laura Scandiffio in Evil Masters, “No population can becontrolled for long unless the tyrant backs up his orders with another tool-terror.”3 A similar approach is seen in the context of other powerrelationships such as marriage and social groups. For example, women inNigeria who are forced into marriage at a young age, are slaves to theirhusbands simply because men in that society have power over women andwomen have a fear of standing up for themselves. As shown in the movieMean Girls, teen girls in America fear being ridiculed by girls in thepopular clique and therefore act nice to them.4 This only helps the populargirls maintain their social status; the same way obeying their husbands givesAfrican women a reason to be seen as less valuable. These examples ofpower imbalances show how authority gives people a reason to think theyhave the right to control everyone around them.

As well as believing that they have the right to control others, influentialpeople believe that since they are better than others, they deserve specialprivileges. In Animal Farm, the pigs started believing that “all animals areequal but some animals are more equal than others.”5 Since the pigs were

1 Golding, William. Lord of the Flies. London: Faber and Faber Ltd., 1954.2 Orwell, George. Animal Farm. New York: Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1946. Pg. 83.3 Scandiffio, Laura. Evil Masters. 1st. New York City, NY: Firefly Books Ltd., 2005. Pg. 5.4 Mean Girls. Dir. Mark Waters. Perf. Lindsay Lohan. Paramount Pictures, 2004. DVD.5 Orwell, 87.

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6 Kano, Salma A. “RIGHTS: Nigeria Failing To End Discrimination against Women.” IPS News.IPS-Inter Press Service, 2009. Web. 23 Nov. 2009.

7 Pocahontas. Dir. Mike Gabriel. Buena Vista Home Video, 1995. Videocassette.8 Grant, Michael. Gone. New York: Harper Collins, 2008. Pg. 132.9 Grant, 194.

in command, they acquired special privileges, such as receiving a pint ofbeer daily and reserving the barley only for themselves. This is definitelyunfair because everyone is created equal and should have equalopportunities. Discriminating against the other farm animals was unjust,because in truth, the pigs are no better than the rest of the farm animals,and therefore should not be receiving special treatment. Equality is a beliefshared by the majority of people in our society and when a group of peopleis evidently being discriminated against, a movement towards conflictbegins.

Power imbalances in society have many repercussions, ranging fromemotional and psychological to social and political repercussions.Nonetheless, no matter what the effects are, everyone involved experiencesthe consequences. Put yourself in the shoes of any outcast – how does it feelto be judged for your appearance, or what other people say about you?Everyone, at one point in their life, gets an essence of the feeling ofexclusion. Some people, however, have to carry this burden throughouttheir entire lives, even though they do not deserve it.6 Everyone wants tobelong, and those who are seen as different experience sorrow andconfusion. In the story of Pocahontas, Pocahontas felt confused and sadbecause she did not understand why the Englishmen considered her to bedifferent.7 Jealousy is another emotion that sometimes transpires as a resultof discrimination, as demonstrated in “Gone” when Sam said that, “peopleare going to be jealous, because we have powers and they don’t.”8 Together,envy and sadness combine together to create the most terrible emotion ofall: hatred.

When envy and sadness develop into hatred, the formation of a conflictcommonly emerges as the last resort to putting an end to discrimination.This is the most severe consequence of power differences because whenpeople are divided into sides, all harmony is lost and rather than thinkingfor themselves, people forget about morals and human rights. In Gone,Astrid quotes the famous words by John Emerich Edward Dalberg Acton:“Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.”9 Thisquote is found to be true in Animal Farm, when greed destroyed thephilosophy of “Animalism”; in Lord of the Flies, when the boys turn into

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savages; in Gone, when the bullies end up murdering innocent people; andin Mean Girls, when the Plastics start a “Girl World War”. Unless bothsides reconcile, there is always a winner and loser in a battle, regardless ofthe price that has to be paid.

In the end we must all think to ourselves: is discriminating againstothers worth the conflicts and emotional struggles it could lead to?Discrimination, as result of power differences, is not just a foreign conceptor something only found in novels. It is a real problem that people in ourschools, families and circles of friends experience. Consider that women onaverage get paid less than men in the workforce, students in high school getless opportunities because of their intelligence level, Native Canadians aretreated unfairly by the Canadian government, and immigrants are labelledwith stereotypes and are occasionally made fun of because of their accentand cultures. If you open your eyes, you will notice that discriminationexists all around us.

The fact that discrimination profoundly exists in our society does notmean that it is impossible to overcome. Discrimination is part of humannature, flowing through our veins, taking control of our conscience, andinfluencing the judgments we make about others. However, the DalaiLama’s wise words, “the sense of discrimination between oneself and othersis the worst form, as it creates nothing but unpleasantness,” remind us thatwe should at least try to prevent discrimination. After all, powerful leaderswho promote discrimination gain power with the help of others, and canonly maintain their power as long as they have support. For this reason, wemust not allow ourselves to be victims of manipulation and propaganda. Wemust stand against tyrants with a quest for power. We must stand up for therights of minorities, who only wish to be treated as equals. We must allstand up together for justice’s sake, to ensure equality and acceptance.Only then can we fulfill the dream of a world where no one feels left outbecause of their differences, a world where everyone can live in harmonyand peace.

59

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I t was the early hours of the morning, when the sky is still blackand the street is still quiet, the only sign of life was a yellow glowin the window of #117. The outside of the house was nothing

special: white siding, blue-tinged roof tiles, some in need of repair.Inside, a young man typed frantically, hunched over a small laptop in

the corner of the room. His name was Carl, and once again he had foundhimself scrambling in the early hours after midnight to finish an assignmentfor the next day. Brushing shaggy black hair from his face, he squinted hiseyes, struggling to focus on the bright screen. He stifled a yawn, lookingbehind him to make sure his roommate, Todd, was still fast asleep.

This wasn’t going to work; he needed a break. He got up from the chair,walking slowly over to the door and opening it, wincing as it creaked.

It was strange. The house was old and many parts of it could do withsome work, but before it had been sold the previous owners had painted allthe doors black. It made no sense, as the doors were old and crooked ontheir hinges, some not even closing all the way. The students had made upcountless stories as to why this was.

“Maybe they were covering up a murder!” Katie had said, and they hadall laughed.

Now Carl passed her room as silently as he could. He would makehimself a strong coffee, take a short break, and get right back to work.

SecondaryGrades 11 and 12Short Story

SCHOOL: St. Charles CollegeTEACHER: Nancy Daoust

SCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Paola GutschenUNIT: Sudbury Secondary

UNIT PRESIDENT: Dan Charbonneau

by J I L L IAN CAMPAGNOLA

60

WHITE RAGE

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As he searched for the kitchen light switch he felt the hairs on his neckstand on end, and a shiver pass down his spine, as if someone were staringat the back of his head. He found the switch and quickly snapped it on,glancing behind him, but the hallway through which he had just walked wasempty.

Shrugging it off, he opened the window to let some air in and started upthe coffee machine, eager to finish his project and finally get to bed. Finally,he returned and settled back down in his seat, all the while trying to keephis eyes open.

Suddenly, a sound- the door creaking open with exaggerated slowness.Carl turned quickly to look, and what he saw caused him to leap out of thechair with a startled yelp.

Todd, his short brown hair plastered to one side, sat up in bedimmediately at the sound and looked around wildly. Spotting Carl, hesighed, and then frowned as he looked over at the clock by his bed.

“What the hell man?” He muttered quietly.“It’s 2:30. We have to be up in three hours! THREE!” He looked over

to the doorway where Carl was staring, seeing nothing, and rolled his eyes,laying back down with a huff.

“Go to bed, man.”The computer screen cast a soft glow over the room. Carl left the

monitor on, allowing the light to comfort him as he quickly got ready forbed and climbed into the other twin against the far wall. Pulling the sheetsto his chin, he found himself wide awake.

It hadn’t been his imagination; something had been there.The next morning, Carl woke to pots and pans being smashed together

inches from his face. Suddenly recalling the night before, he sat up quicklyand almost crashed heads with his grinning roommate.

“Hey, watch it!” Todd yelled, laughing.Amused, arms crossed, Katie stood behind him.His mission accomplished, Todd returned to the kitchen, and Carl

turned his attention to his other friend and the third occupant of the house.“Mornin’, Katie.”Smiling, she came over, laughing softly.“Todd told me how late you went to bed. No wonder we had to resort to

desperate measures to wake you up!” Brushing a lock of straight brownhair behind her ear, she shook her head.

“Why were you up so late, anyways? Cramming for Bio?”Carl frowned. “Yeah, but...”

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He trailed off, motioning the girl in closer. Puzzled, she leaned in.“There was something here last night, Katie. I didn’t want to mention it

to Todd, he’d just laugh.” Katie’s smile faded, replaced by a troubledexpression. “What do you mean? Like, a robber?” He shook his head,running a hand through his messy hair.

“No. I mean, I don’t know, I didn’t see it clearly. But it...” Hehesitated, biting the side of his cheek.

“It was some sort of animal. Fangs, red eyes, and... it seemed angry.”He finished in a rush, a deep red spreading over his face as he realized justhow incredibly weird his story sounded.

Katie looked taken aback.“That’s strange.”For a second he thought she was taking him seriously, until the corner

of her mouth twitched.“Sure you weren’t high, Carl?” She smirked.

Okay, she was definitely laughing at him. Angry, he got out of bed,grabbing a pair of jeans and pulling them on. The three of them had becomevery comfortable with each other over the 6 months they had rented thehouse together.

“I’m serious! Maybe it was a…a raccoon or something.”She rolled her eyes. “You probably just dreamed it. Think about it, you

were tired. You probably fell asleep at your desk.”It did make sense. Shrugging, Carl decided to put it to rest and try not

to embarrass himself anymore. But something inside him kept on bringingup the memory of last night; the glowing shadow, the dripping jaws, and thebright, bright red eyes.

Katie made her way to the kitchen, still laughing and eager for somebreakfast. She inhaled the smell of bacon and eggs with excitement,grabbing some utensils and quickly setting the table.

“That smells amazing, Todd!” She came over to watch as he flipped thebacon one last time, his head towering at least 4 or 5 inches above her own.

When they were almost finished eating, Carl pounded down the stairs,grabbing a handful and shoving it into his mouth before running out thedoor, slamming it behind him.

“Someone’s late. Too bad he doesn’t have his work,” Todd remarkedwith a grin, looking over at the forgotten laptop sitting on the counter.

With a sigh, he got up, grabbing it. “I’d better bring it to him.”

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He walked out the door at half the speed Carl had been going, the roomlighting up red with the early morning sunrise for the brief moment beforehe closed it.

Finding herself alone in the house, Katie cleaned up from breakfast andstarted getting herself ready for her 7am class. Light was now slowlyfiltering into the dark rooms, casting abstract shadows over the walls.

Suddenly, the light bulbs flickered and Katie flinched, dropping two ofthe plates and smashing them on the wooden floors.

“Damn!” she cried, setting the rest of her burden to the side andheading to the basement to get the dustpan. The door was stiff, for theyrarely felt the need to go down there, and cold, musty air billowed up theconcrete stairs.

Flicking the light switch, she made her way carefully into the storageroom, spotting the dustpan almost immediately in the far corner.

As soon as her foot left the last step, the single bulb stuttered and wentout, plunging her into darkness. Swearing under her breath, she fumbledaround and found the wall, feeling her way to where she thought thedustpan had been. As she rounded the back corner, an icy finger seemed totravel down her spine, and she turned around, seeing only the absolutedarkness.

She stopped and dropped to her knees, feeling around with her handsfor the dustpan and cussing all the while. Finally, her fingers closed aroundthe cool, dusty handle and she picked it up.

Without warning, something growled by her ear, and coarse fur brushedagainst the back of her hand. Dropping her prize, she screamed and ran tothe stairs, feeling for them wildly and taking two steps at a time to the top,her arm scraping against the frame as she slammed the door behind her.Eyes wide, she leaned against it for a while, feeling dizzy and sick to herstomach.

Reaching for her cell phone, she dialed Todd’s number.Luckily the university was only a few blocks away, and Todd made it

back in just 5 minutes at a steady jog. He pulled open the black door andhugged Katie to him, allowing her to cry for a moment before holding her atarm’s length searching her face.

“Are you okay?”Taking a deep breath, she pulled away from him and calmed herself

down, forcing herself to think clearly.“I think Carl’s right. I think an animal is in here,” she said finally and

Todd nodded.

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“From what you told me, it sounds like it. And look,” he glanced overat the window that Carl had opened the night before, “Something couldhave gotten in there after we went to bed last night. Maybe if we leave thewindows open down there, it’ll leave on its own.”

Katie nodded and then groaned, pointing at the dead light bulbs.“Looks like the campus construction cut our power again. I think that’s

what really scared me.” Todd nodded sympathetically.“Okay, here’s what we’ll do. We’ll both go downstairs together, and

open the window. I’m sure you just startled it, and it shouldn’t be too darknow that it’s bright outside.”

Nodding, Katie followed him as he opened up the black-painted doorand made his way down. She shuddered; it looked like a dark mouth,swallowing him whole.

The window was dusty, the light fighting to get through, and no matterhow hard they tried to push it they could not make it move. Wiping thesweat off his brow, Todd turned and scanned the small space, but sawnothing.

“Maybe it was just a rat or something.”Katie nodded, but inside she knew that wasn’t true. Whatever it was, it

had felt large, and the growl had been right by her ear; much too high fora rat.

“Whatever it is, it isn’t here now. But I say we look around,” Toddcontinued.

There were a few boxes in the basement, some from previous tenantsand some that the students had brought with them and failed to unpack.Beginning in separate directions, they moved around the room and shiftedvarious pieces of furniture, brushing away cobwebs and sneezing at therising dust. Katie finished first and climbed halfway up the stairs, eager tobe out of the basement but not wanting to leave Todd behind.

Suddenly, her eyes caught something, something that didn’t quietbelong.

Subconsciously she had noticed the scrape on her arm, but looking atthe frame of the door she realized that the paint had been scraped off. Thewood underneath looked similar to that which made the floors, actually, butthat wasn’t the strange bit. It looked almost like rust, but wood didn’t rust,did it?

“Hey, Todd!” She called back down the stairs, more cheerful now thatshe was out of the basement. “Are you sure our floors are made from realwood?”

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“What?” His voice grew louder, and his tone had an air to it that saidhis mind was somewhere else as he reached Katie.

“Look,” she said.He bent to look at the frame, and then pulled away, shaking his head.“This is weird,” he said finally, his hazel eyes meeting her brown ones.

“This looks almost like blood. And caught in a crack in the wall, by whereyou dropped the dustpan, I found white fur. But it’s not a rat. Too highup.”

Katie shuddered. “Raccoon?”“Not white.”They made their way to the small table and sat down to rest for a minute

before returning to the university, but both of them were troubled.Later that night, Todd and Katie heard a scream from the basement.

The sun had set, and each had a flashlight as they ran through the door,which was ajar, and down the stairs into the forbidding blackness. Castingaround frantically, they found Carl sitting against a wall, his hands over hishead.

As Katie flashed her light over the rest of the room, Todd made for hisfriend, only to hear a wet snarl only inches from his face. He turnedquickly, and the glowing circle passed over something large, a hulking formwith pinpoint red eyes that glittered with rage.

The horrible lips curled to reveal vicious fangs, salvia dripping off thetips and disappearing into the shadows before it hit the floor. The monsterbarked, an echoing sound that caused bloody foam to spray from its hugejaws, and Katie dropped her flashlight, shrieking.

Todd flinched, bringing his shaking arm back to eye level, and the beastwas gone.

But was it really? He could feel something big somewhere in the room,but the light that he now sent bouncing over the walls wasn’t showinganything but grey concrete.

“Todd, help me!” Carl’s voice rose above Todd’s panicky breathing andhe went to his rescue, only to trip over him in the process and fall headfirstinto the wall.

It seemed like slow motion. Todd closed his eyes, waiting for impact, butit wasn’t hard like concrete should be, and suddenly he was through it,falling to the ground.

He pushed himself up and spun around, ignoring the sharp pain in hishead, and pointing the flashlight all around him. Pieces of white, grey on

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the one side, littered the floor underneath a huge hole that he had evidentlycreated when he fell.

His first thoughts were for his friends, and he hurried to where he hadseen Carl last, kneeling beside him and putting a hand on his shoulder.

Suddenly a fist came up and hit him in the nose, blood gushing forth andrunning down his face into his mouth. He sputtered, pulling back anddropping the flashlight to cup his face with both hands.

“Hey, it’s me!” he yelled.Katie came up behind them, having found her flashlight.“I…I think it’s gone.” She stuttered, holding the light up to Todd’s face.

One hand went to her mouth.“Oh my God, what happened to you?!”He waved her away.“It’s fine. What do you mean, it’s gone?”“I could see its eyes, and then they just blinked out. And can’t you feel

it? It doesn’t feel so...”She trailed off; they had all felt it, the pure anger that had flooded the

room, a mass of energy that had chilled them to the bone and even causedCarl to lash out at Todd when he got too close.

Carl was shaking hard, but calm was beginning to return to him and hewas no longer panicking. For the first time he was able to see Todd’s face,now gory with blood and the front of his head bruised blue and yellow. Heblinked, surprised, then shook his head and put his face down into hisknees.

“I’m sorry, man,” he mumbled, and to his surprise tears prickled thecorners of his eyes.

Katie knelt down, her arm around his shoulders. “What happened” sheasked again, softly.

He lifted his head, still trembling; his green eyes wet. “I saw...everything.” He whispered. “That…that thing, it knocked me down andsuddenly I could see everything.”

She had always been a quiet dog, minding her own business and contentto sleep at his feet, but lately she had been too quiet, and she didn’t movearound much. Both he and his wife were sure that she had fallen ill, for shewouldn’t eat or drink. One day, when he went to pet her, she snarled athim, and it sounded wrong... it was too wet, and too vicious. She lifted hermuzzle and that’s when he knew. She was foaming at the mouth, her eyes

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bloodshot, her breath coming out raspy as if they were being forcedthrough a small, jagged opening. She was struggling to her feet, but he wasfrozen in place, unable to believe that a creature he called a member of thefamily could look like she looked now. Silently, he thanked God that hiswife wasn’t home, and that was when she sprang at him, murder and ragein her eyes and vibrating from every fibre of her being. He stumbledbackward, only now reacting to the danger, grabbing a chair and throwingit between them. She attacked it, violently throwing herself against theflimsy defence with no obvious thought to her own pain. Her world waspain. As the wood began to splinter, he turned and ran for the nearest door,the basement. As he forced his way through the doorway, he slammed thedoor on her, and the yelp that followed hurt him to the point that his gripslackened just enough for her to squeeze through, leaving droplets of bloodglittering like diamonds on the frame. Panicking, he almost fell down thestairs, and in finding himself cornered he made his way to the pantry,opening it and spinning around. The dog had had trouble with the stairs,but now she was right behind him, her paws skittering on the concrete andher jaws salivating. He waited, hardly daring to breathe, as she drewcloser, and at the last second he dodged to the side and pushed against herhind end with all his might. Her white fur felt coarse and mattedunderneath his grip, but he cherished the feeling and stored it somewherein the back of his mind, for he knew deep inside that this was the last timehe would touch her. He shoved for as long as he dared, and as herglittering jaws lashed back at him he let go and backed up, slamming thepantry door shut and locking it. He then sat down and cried, while the dogthrew herself against the door of her prison again and again, snarling allthe while. Eventually the violent thumps against the door came slower andslower, and the angry sounds grew quieter and quieter, and after 4 or 5hours he looked up at the door, hearing nothing behind it. His hand restedon the knob, but he was afraid of what he would see. He hesitated, thenshook his hand, stifling a sob with one sleeve. He didn’t want to see whathad happened to her, he didn’t want his last memory to be of her broken,tortured body, lying at the bottom of his pantry. Making a split seconddecision, he walked to the nearby store, unable to trust his shaky hands ona steering wheel, and when he returned he spent the afternoon covering thedoor with drywall. In the end, he spray-painted it grey, standing back toevaluate his handiwork. In the dim light, it seemed as if the wall was justanother part of the basement. As he climbed the stairs, he noticed the

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drying blood on the side of the frame, and the pain expanded in his achingheart. Settling himself down, he painted the frame black, then the door,and then every door in the house. A month later, he and his wife moved out,leaving the memories behind them.

After Todd’s nose had stopped bleeding, the three students made theirway warily back into the basement, only to find that the lights were backon. Investigating the hole in the wall, they found an old pantry, with shelvesfull of petrified food and a floor littered with pieces of dry wall and splintersof rotten wood.

In the middle of the floor, half hidden by the rubble that Todd hadcreated, sat a canine skull.

They had found all the remains that they could, though not much hadbeen left, and now they stood around a shallow hole dug in the flowerbedaround the front of the house. There had not been any flowers planted foryears, but Katie found a large stone and used it as a marker after the holehad been filled with dirt, concealing the bones once again.

Todd leaned the shovel against the side of the house, and Carl bit his lip,staring down at the grave they had created.

“Should we say a few words?”Todd nodded, clearing his throat.“May you finally rest in peace.”“Please,” Katie added.

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I remember that daythe day I held you father

as you cried for the very first timebefore me.

I remember that momentwhen the image of you I held so dear

vanished like smoke,replaced with the knowledgethat you are just a man.

I remember the secondthat I knew what I had to do

and not knowing if it would help at all,I held you father.

My small arms coming around your neckwhile you were sitting in our kitchen

saying the things words could never express.

SecondaryGrades 11 and 12Poem

SCHOOL: St. MaryTEACHER: Jane Cowan

SCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Patty SheaUNIT: Waterloo

UNIT PRESIDENT: Mike Devoy

by HAYLEY HALLORAN

69

LITTLE ARMS

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I love youIt will all be okay somedayI understand your pain

I accept you, even if you’re not the superheroI always thought you were

I will always love you father.

And we stayed like that for a long while.Your big, arms coming around me and holding me close

like you were comforting meBut this time it was the other way around.

And while we stayed there togethermourning the loss of your father,

I couldn’t help but wonderif someday little arms would wrap around my neck,

While I mourned you.

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SCENE 1(Black)Marjorie: I had a dream, a dream about you, baby.

It’s gonna come true, baby.They think that we’re through, but baby,

(Lights. Marjorie tends her roses.)

You’ll be swell! You’ll be great!Gonna have the whole world on a plate!Starting here, starting now,Honey, everything’s coming up roses!Clear the decks! Clear the tracks!You’ve got nothing to do but relax.Blow a kiss. Take a bow.Honey, everything’s coming up roses!1

(Marjorie enters town. Enter townspeople.)

All: Now’s your inning. Stand the world on its ear! Set itspinning! That’ll be just the beginning!2

SecondaryGrades 11 and 12Play

SCHOOL: St. AnneTEACHER: Lori Rozic

SCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Kris BarronUNIT: Windsor-Essex Secondary

UNIT PRESIDENT: Brian Hogan

by MATTEO BERNABÒ AND MAR IA CUSUMANO

71

THE TOWN CRIER

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Oliver: Hello there Miss Marjorie. Your roses sure arelooking mighty fine this spring.

Marjorie: Thank you kindly, Oliver.

Oliver: I think the only thing more beautiful than those rosesis you, Miss Marjorie.

Marjorie: Oh, Oliver…I’m sure there must be something else…

All: Curtain up! Light the lights! You got nothing to hitbut the heights!3

(Enter Diana, Betty bumping into Marjorie.)

Diana: Oh, I’m so sorry, Miss Marjorie.

Marjorie: Oh no, not a problem, my dear. What seems to bethe matter with your little pumpkin?

Diana: Haven’t you read the paper today? The TownCrier…a full page article on-

Betty: They called me Betty Beluga and said I should jumpin the ocean with my own kind!

Marjorie: You’ll be swell. You’ll be great.I can just tell. Just you wait.4

Betty: I hate whales!

Marjorie: That lucky star I talk about is due! And I’m sureyou’ll grow to like them very much dear. Honey,everything’s coming up roses for me and for you!

Diana: Come on, pumpkin, nobody believes the Town Crieranyways…You can do it, all you need is a hand.We can do it, Mama is gonna see to it!5

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(Exit. Enter Virginia.)

Virginia: Oh, Marjorie, have you read the Crier today? Thisnews is simply delicious! I just hope Betty Beluga cancontrol herself.

Marjorie: I’m sure she’ll be all right.

Virginia: I’m glad the truth is out in the open now. I swear onthe little buttocks of baby Jesus I saw her swipe theblueberry pie I left on the window sill the other day.I bet that’s why this story came out, divine justice!They’ve outdone themselves this time, I’ve got afriend of a friend who’s a fact checker, and I’ll tellyou this – they’ve got it right.

Marjorie: I’m sure they have…Well, I must get going, Virginia;pleasure talking to you.

All: Curtain up! Light the lights!We got nothing to hit but the heights!I can tell, wait and see.There’s the bell! Follow me!And nothing’s gonna stop us ‘til we’re through!6

Marjorie: Honey, everything’s coming up roses and daffodils!Everything’s coming up sunshine and Santa Claus!Everything’s gonna be bright lights and lollipops!7

(Enter Jo, running through roses, grabbed by Marjorie.)

And where are you heading off to in such a hurry,dear?

Joanna: To the park, Miss Marjorie! Davy just got himself anew baseball bat!

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Marjorie: Well, aren’t you precious, going to play baseball withall of your friends. (Jo nods) Well you run along nowand just watch out for my roses next time, OK?(Jo nods) That’s a boy. Have fun now!

(Exit Jo.)

(To roses) I’m sorry, my darlings. I’m sorry. Did shehurt you? It’s OK, I’ll get you some water and you’llfeel better in no time! She won’t step on you again.I’ll make sure of it.

All: Everything’s coming up roses for me and for you!8

SCENE 2(Virginia reads Town Crier.)

Virginia: (Horrified) “…and we must praise Mrs. VirginiaWallace for her perseverance in convincing us all,her little Joanna was born a female. Perhaps shebelieved the rugged testosterone that now pulsesviciously through her child’s veins would neverpresent itself. It is most difficult to understand whylittle Jo would be denied his or her gender. Only theLord Almighty knows what may come upon this poorconfused child. For now, we should offer ourprayers, as a community, for Jo in hopes that JesusChrist will not turn his back on this perversion ofHis creation. The Town Crier.”

(Virginia collects herself.)

Joanna Mildred Wallace, you get in here right now!

Joanna: Yes, momma?

Virginia: You go up to your room right now and put on thedress I bought you last week.

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Joanna: But momma, I don’t want-

Virginia: I don’t care what you want! Go put it on right now.

(Exit Jo.)

Throw away your baseball glove too. I don’t knowwhy I ever got you that stupid thing…That damnedpaper, I’ll show them who’s a mutant! If I ever findout who writes this garbage, so help me sweet babyJesus, I’ll give them something to writeabout…Nobody does this to my little Joanna. SweetJoanna…

(Enter Joanna wearing a dress.)

Joanna: This one, momma?

Virginia: Yes, my angel. Now go out and you show off thisbeautiful dress of yours and if anybody asks whereyou got it, you tell them you sewed it yourself andthat you play with Barbies and you don’t even knowwhat baseball is!

Joanna: But momma that’s…lying. You said lies make babyJesus cry.

Virginia: Baby Jesus can cry a river to tarnation! This isn’t alie, Joanna. From now on it’s the truth, OK? (Jonods reluctantly) Now give me a smile…that’s mygirl! Now go and show off your dress!

(Exit Jo.)

And don’t run!

(Virginia exits. Jo re-enters in town, approaching townspeople.)

Joanna: Do you like my dress, Ms. Howard?

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Ms. Howard: Oh, yes, very nice, dear, Shouldn’t you be playing inthe dirt or mud or something?

Joanna: No ma’am. I like dresses now!

(Enter Diana.)

Diana: Hello there Joanna, what a very nice dress you have.

Joanna: Thank you Mrs. Davis. I sewed it myself! And Ireally like Barbies and I don’t even know whatbaseball is!

Diana: Well I’m sure you’re right. You have a very nice dayJoanna and tell your mother that you are growing upto be a very pretty little girl.

Joanna: Thank you, Mrs. Davis.

(Diana exits. Enter Marjorie.)

Marjorie: Oh, aren’t you adorable…trying to wear a dress.You almost look like a lady, don’t you?

Joanna: Yes ma’am. And I play with Barbies and I don’t evenknow what baseball is.

Marjorie: Oh, well, we both know that’s not true.

Joanna: Yes…momma said so.

Marjorie: Well dear, your mother is what some people call animbecile or…a nincompoop.

Joanna: (Laughing) Nincompoop is a funny word.

Marjorie: Yes, it is funny, isn’t it?

(Enter Davy.)

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Davy: Jo! Jo! Robby just caught a toad! He’s going to gorace it with Martin’s jack rabbit!

Joanna: Neato! We better hurry before they start!

(Exit Davy, Jo follows.)

Marjorie: (Stopping Jo) Oh Jo, wait a second. You havesomething on your dress.

(Unseen, Marjorie cuts Jo’s dress with clippers.)

You seem to have dirt all over your dress!We wouldn’t want anything to happen to it now,would we?

Joanna: Thank you, Miss Marjorie

Marjorie: Run along now. (Exit Jo) Filthy perversion.

SCENE 3(Lights on Oliver knocking on Marjorie’s door. Marjorie enters.)

Marjorie: Why Oliver, what a surprise!

Oliver: Hello, Miss Marjorie. I was on my morning walk andI happened to spot these roses and they reminded meof you.

Marjorie: Where did you find these, Oliver?

Oliver: Find what?

Marjorie: These roses!

Oliver: Ah yes, the roses…I saw them…hmmmm…

Marjorie: Did you take them from my garden Oliver?

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Oliver: Ah, yes…very lovely roses indeed.

Marjorie: (Horrified) Well then…thank you verymuch…(pushing Oliver away)

Oliver …A young woman like yourself should surroundherself with lovely things.

Marjorie: Yes, she should.

Oliver: I just hope you like the flowers is all…

Marjorie: Oh, I loved them. I must go, though; I left the ovenon, I wouldn’t want to accidentally set theneighbourhood on fire!

(Exit Marjorie, laughing.)

Oliver: Goodbye, Miss Marjorie.

(Enter Marjorie in her home, writing viciously.)

Marjorie: “Senile, dribbling, crumbling, useless old fool! OliverLeslie. In a situation such as this we can’t placeblame on his children for abandoning such a needy,stupid, and falsely forgetful old coot. Riddled withAlzheimer’s? Oh, on the contrary, he is riddled witha hidden agenda! As a community we’ve turned ablind eye to his vandalism for too long. He cannot beallowed to relish in his malevolence any longer. Hehas made fools of us all. Everyday his fakeforgetfulness mocks us. While we feel pity, he laughsmaniacally under his breath. Are these grounds forcalling this demented veteran evil? It isn’t the shellshock! In my opinion, the Krauts should havefinished this one off in World War One. We must endhis reign of tyranny for our good and the good of thiscommunity. Euthanize Oliver Leslie. The TownCrier.” Good.

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(Exit Marjorie. She re-enters with the letter noticing Oliver at the doorwith more roses.)

Marjorie: (Fake) Oliver! What are you still doing here? There’sgoing to be some awfully hungry ducks at McInnispond-

Oliver: I was on my morning walk and I happened to spotsome roses. Now I think they’re pretty, but not quiteas pretty as-

Marjorie: (Seeing the destroyed roses) My roses!

(Marjorie drops the letter and consoles roses.)

Oliver: I was going to say “you,” but they are very nice aswell.

(Oliver takes the letter.)

Marjorie: Oh no…Patty, Joseph, Frances, what has he done toyou? I’m going to get you some fertilizer, right now.I’ll just prune the branches he broke; don’t worry.It’s going to be OK, Helena. I know you’re hurting.Please, Andrew, hold yourself together. I’ll put upchicken wire around you. That’s what I’ll do. I knowyou won’t like it, but it will be all right. It will bebetter than ever before.

Oliver: (Holding the letter to Marjorie) Miss, Miss Marjorie-

Marjorie: Get out, Oliver! Get out now! (To herself) Oh, I’mgoing to need the big shears for this one.

(Exit Marjorie. Oliver enters town with letter.)

Virginia: Hello, Oliver. You’re a bit far from home today foryour walk.

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Oliver: Am I? I don’t quite remember…

Virginia: Oh dear. Maybe you’re out to buy some groceries?Is that a grocery list you have there? What does itsay?

Oliver: Oh goodness, I don’t even know. I seem to haveforgotten my glasses!

Virginia: Let me just take a look here…(taking the letter)Oliver! It’s the Town Crier. Where did you get this,Oliver? Please try and remember.

Oliver: Well, this morning I woke up and I had my oatmealand prune juice. My goodness- those prunes workfast because in a couple of minutes I was in-

Virginia: Yes, after all that, Oliver…

Oliver: I was in Miss Marjorie’s garden…and she was in anawful mood. You see, when I was a boy my motheronce told me not to bother with the women at leastonce a month because they become real beastsabout-

Virginia: Oliver! Please! Stick to the problem! Where did youget this?

Oliver: Miss Marjorie dropped it, I suppose.

Virginia: Sweet Jesus in a cardigan!...it would be Marjorie,wouldn’t it? Thank you very much, Oliver. Do youmind if I keep this?

Oliver: Are you taking it to the post office?

Virginia: Where else would I be taking it?

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Oliver: Very well; it looked real important-like.

Virginia: Oh, it is “real important-like.” (To herself)Wait ‘til I tell Diana…

(Exit Virginia. Enter Marjorie.)

Marjorie: Oliver! Oh Oliver! You’d never believe how glad Iam to see you!

Oliver: It’s nice to see that you’ve finally come around,Miss Marjorie.

Marjorie: Oh, I have! I have! Could you just be a dear andhelp me? I seem to have lost something.

Oliver: Well, I’m quite good at finding things; when I wasin Egypt during the Great War, I had to clear amine field a mile deep. Some of them went off,though…Took a few good bashes to the head I did-

Marjorie: Yes, yes, that’s all very interesting. I just dropped aletter and I was wondering if you’d seen it?

Oliver: Ah yes, I just handed it to Missus Virginia.She said she’d mail it for you. If you want to mailit yourself though, she went…Oh dear, which waydid she go…

Marjorie: Oh…well…thank you very much for yourconsideration Oliver…

(Marjorie exits emotionless.)

Oliver: (To himself) What a lovely woman. I wonderwhere she’s going? I wonder where I’m going?Oh, hello there, prunes, come to visit me againhave you…

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SCENE 4(Lights on Virginia alone. Ms. Howard and Don enter.)

Virginia: You’ll be swell! You’ll be great!Gonna have the whole world on the plate!Starting here, starting now,Honey, everything’s coming up roses!9

Ms. Howard: Remind me how you’re sure Marjorie is the realTown Crier?

Virginia: Oliver said she had written the article.

Don: (Sceptically) Well, if Oliver told you so, it must betrue.

Virginia: Please! Oliver may be a little…absent-minded attimes, but he has always loved Marjorie. He wouldnever frame her and I don’t even think he could if hetried.

All: Clear the decks! Clear the tracks!You’ve got nothing to do but relax.10

(Enter Diana, Betty, Jo and Davy.)

Diana: This column has been terrorizing us for too long!

Virginia: Exactly! My little girl may not be a…typicalgirl…but she’s still a girl!

Joanna: Yeah!

Diana: She can’t hide behind the Town Crier anymore!

Virginia: Oh, it would be easy to lock her up or beat Marjorieto death. No, I want to see her face as we destroy herroses in front of her. The show is over, Marjorie.

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All: Blow a kiss! Take a bow!Honey, everything is coming up roses!11

Ms. Howard: This is ridiculous. Marjorie would never hurt a soul.

Virginia: You would think so. But the Town Crier has neverwritten about you, has it? (Ms. Howard is silent)Exactly! It was only a matter of time, Veronica. Shewould spread lies just like she did to us. You’vebelieved this nonsense just like I did. But we neverthought these things until the Town Crier told us to.Enough is enough! My Jo is a girl!

Diana: Betty is not fat!

Brenda: I was not born illegitimately!

Don: It’s not miniature, it’s average!

Betty: Oliver will not be euthanized!

Virginia: And after tonight, the Town Crier will never cryagain.

All: You’ll be swell! You’ll be great!I can tell. Just you wait.And nothing’s gonna stop us ‘til we’re through!Honey, everything’s coming up roses and daffodils!Everything’s coming up sunshine and Santa Claus!Everything’s gonna be bright lights and lollipops!12

(Crowd reaches Marjorie’s house. The roses are destroyed. Tableau.Enter Marjorie in their home.)

Marjorie: (Frantically) I’m sorry, my darlings. Don’t look atme that way, Jacob! Forgive me, my children.Forgive me! They did this to us! They ruined us!Don’t hate me, Frances, please! I can’t let them do

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this to you all. I brought you into this world andnobody is going to take you out but me. We can’tgive them what they want! We can’t let them takeyou! I’ll take you! I’ll keep you safe with me. We’resafe, here. I’ll keep you in this house and I’ll neverleave your side, ever! I’ll plant new roses and in ayear we’ll be a big happy family all over again. A bighappy family…and I will be your mother. Yes, yourmother. And we will be happy. Everything is going tobe okay, my children.

(End tableau.)

Diana: Virginia, they’re already ruined!

Ms. Howard: Somebody must have already come by and cut themdown…

Virginia: I don’t care, this isn’t over with just yet. We’ll poursalt…all over her yard…everywhere. And nothingwill ever grow here again- no flowers, noroses…never.

Marjorie: Everything’s coming up roses for me and… 13

All: For you!

(Blackout)

1-13 Midler, Bette. “Everything’s Coming Up Roses.” Gypsy. Atlantic, 1993. CD.

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I n our society, it seems that the only purpose of education is to trainsomeone to fulfill a certain role and little else. Morals, ideas andvalues have little purpose. However, a person’s aptitude at math,

English or wood carving is seized upon and honed to fit the frame of thecareer for which that person is groomed. It is about finding a person’sstrengths, not his or her passions. When looking at the purpose ofeducation, there seem to be a plethora of answers, some of which addresspart of the question, but none of which seem to truly answer it. I believethat the purpose of education is to broaden the minds of students so thatthey may take interest in the world, find their passions and in the processuncover the value of leading a moral life and making the world a betterplace. Formal education must enrich the individual and society.

The education system has a responsibility to expose students to a widevariety of philosophies and viewpoints. In the poem, ‘Modern Ode to aModern School,’ a young man’s education is described in the words, “Hewanted to be a brick layer/ They taught him to be a perfect brick layer/Andnothing more.”1 This is a summation of what is most often seen in ourschools today. Depending on the proclivities of the student, they are toldwhat they would be good at, and then take the courses that will lead them

SecondaryGrades 11 and 12Nonfiction

SCHOOL: ResurrectionTEACHER: Mary-Jo O’BrienSCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Anne Charters-KlaverUNIT: Waterloo

UNIT PRESIDENT: Mike Devoy

by TESS KLAVER

85

THE EDUCATION DEBATE

1 Erskine, John. “Modern Ode to a Modern School.” Sonata and Other Poems. Whitefish,Montana: Kessinger, Publisher, 2003. Pg. 5-7.

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to this profession. It is not a matter of what they love, but rather a matterof their disposition, and what they can best do to support themselves. Thishas led to a generation of people who are good at their jobs, be the teacher,lawyer or doctor. However, it has also led to a generation that lacks passionfor what they do, and in lacking this passion, have been impoverished of thevalues that once were readily instilled by our learning establishments. Weseek endless amounts of material goods and quick fixes for feelings ofpointlessness that come with learning about and doing something we do notcare for as a living. The growing problems in our society are due to the factthat education is so narrow minded that students only focus on theaccretion of money rather than the capacious extent of humanity’spotential. As Robert Nielson explains in expressing the main points of AllanBloom’s book, The Closing of the American Mind, “it is easy to devisecourses of study that thrill those who take them; the difficulty is gettingthem accepted by the faculty.” 2 Education should be about broadening theminds of students, exposing them to a variety of thought, that they may takean interest in their world and in the well being of that world. This isprefereable to the production of parochial, narcissistic drones whose onlypurpose is to fulfill a professional niche.

If a person is not passionate about what they are learning or doing, theywill learn only a sufficient amount to pass whatever testing of thatknowledge that may arise, and then promptly discard it. In this way thememorization of facts and methods, which are then regurgitated forexamination, fail to serve students at all because they are not encouraged toseek their passions. Someone who has influenced me greatly in my view ofeducation has been my mother, who is a teacher. She has never put pressureon me to do well in terms of marks; she has only ever asked me to questionthe ideas behind what I am being taught, and to use education as a tool tohelp me discover my passions and to broaden my mind. She has taught meto enjoy ideas, rather than the repetition of facts, as a form of education.This method of teaching – of teaching facts without ideas, concepts withoutbackgrounds, and knowledge without passion – which is so often used, onlyserves to turn students off learning. They are only interested in doing wellon the tests, not interested in the ideas that they are studying. This kills thepassion within them, thus leading to the narrow-minded products of

2 Nielson, Robert. “The Closing of the (North) American Mind.” Echoes. Don Mills, Ontario:Oxford University Press, 2002. Pg. 328.

3 Nielson, 327.

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education we so often see today. As Robert Nielson says, “Specializedsuccess is all they can imagine.” Education should serve to make studentsfervent not only about learning, but ideas themselves. My mother hastaught me that if I am not interested and passionate about what I amstudying, it will never make me happy. It is in falling in love with a subjectand its ideas that the passion for that area will sustain me, not only throughstudy, but through a career in that field. Education should help students todiscover not only what they are good at, but what they find mostinteresting. They must discover what they would be willing to devote theirlives to so that they will. If a person is passionate about what they do, theywill feel fulfilled, and will no longer need the stopgap bandages our societyuses to give themselves a sense of purpose: materialism, sex, substanceabuse, and many other destructive passtimes of our culture. Leroy V.Quintana expresses the loss of purpose and fulfillment in his poem ‘Legacy,’in the words, “Now I look back/Only two generations removed/ Realize I amnothing but a poor fool/ Who went to college/ Trying to find my way back/To the center of the world.”4 This is the assertion that with the loss ofpurpose in learning and in our chosen professions, we have also lost themeaning in our lives. Education should be about helping students cultivatetheir love of learning, a teaching method my mother has used for manyyears. This is the philosophy that has shaped my view of education, andhow it could help students discover their passions, rather than allowingthem only to be trained in something which they are good at.

In finding fulfillment through following their passions, people learn tobe earnest and ardent not only in what they do, but also how they live theirlives. If schools can teach students to love ideas rather thanaccomplishments, people will be more readily open to the world aroundthem, and thus what is needed to make that world a better place. In havinga passion for learning and ideas, they will view the breadth of humanity’spotential, both in its glory and its horror. As Robert Nielson says today,“Students have no understanding of evil and even doubt its existence, thuslacking awareness of the depths as well as the heights of human nature.”5

This means that without curiosity and animation about education andunderstanding, morality is easily discarded in favour of relativistic ideasthat serve only to make allowable the shallow and profligate convictions and

4 Quintana, Leroy V. “Legacy II.” Grandparents’ Houses. Ed. Connie Streich. New York:Greenwillow Books, 1984. Pg 335.

5 Nielson, 326.

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activities that hold so steadily in our nation. As expressed in Allan Bloom’sbook, “This moral relativism tends to justify whatever current opinionsand behaviours students feel comfortable with.” 6 It does so withoutchallenging students to question the moral iniquity of our times, or the dutyhumankind has to itself and the world, one of positive contribution andcommitment to the betterment of the earth as well as society. Educationshould serve to impassion students about ideas and in so doing, the worldaround them; in this way, helping them to discover the value of moralityand helping them to contribute to an equitable planet.

Education, with few exceptions, has served to turn my generation awayfrom a passion for learning and idealism in favour of a short-sighted andimmoral belief system that upholds the degradation of human virtue, andmakes almost all acts permissible. However, there are the exceptions. Thereare those teachers and professors who inspire in their pupils an excitementfor ideas and challenge them to question the status quo. It is these peoplewho know what the purpose of learning should be, that of broadening thestudents’ minds and making them interested in their world, help themdiscover what they are passionate about, and in so doing discover the valueof leading a moral life that contributes positively to our society, and thushelp to create a better world. Education should be about enrichment of ourlives and the world.

6 Neilson, 326.

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PRIXJEUNES

ÉCRIVAINS

2010•

YO

UNG

AUTHORS AWARD

S•

PR

IXJEUNES ÉCRIV

AINS

Page 93: Young Authors Booklet - 2010

SecondaryJunior and SeniorKindergartenPoem

SCHOOL: St. LukeTEACHER: Nathalie Aquino-Morley

SCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Lynn PriceUNIT: Nipissing Elementary

UNIT PRESIDENT: Gail Geddes-Bell

by MYA B ITONT I

91

J’aime le hockey.

J’aime jouer.

J’aime skier et patiner.

J’aime les Olympiques.

LES OLYMPIQUES

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ElementaryGrades 1 and 2Short Story

SCHOOL: St. PatrickTEACHER: Dominique Foy

SCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Francine MartelUNIT: Eastern Ontario

UNIT PRESIDENT: Barb Dobrowolski

by K IERAN ST. JACQUES

92

Un jour je marchais dans la neige et j’ai vu unegrosse tempête. C’est une tempête rouge!

La tempête rouge pousse la neige et pousse laneige! Je cours super vite. Mes joues sont toutesrouges! Je tombe sur une branche. Je coursencore! Je vais dans une maison d’arbre mais latempête…

Me pousse encore! Je cours! Et cours! Et cours! Jevais dans ma maison mais la tempête a cassé maporte! Je trappe la tempête dans une boite…

Et il dit: Au secours! Au secours! Au secours! Oh!Non!

La Fin

DANS LA TEMPÊTE

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ElementaryGrade 1 and 2Poem

SCHOOL: St. JosephTEACHER: Edith MacIntyreSCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Lynne Milette-CarrollUNIT: Peterborough, VNC

UNIT PRESIDENT: Bart Scollard

by JUL IA STEEP

93

MA FAMILLE

Annie est ma sœur.Elle a peur des grosses belles fleurs.

Elle aime sa petite sœur.Ma sœur compte toujours l’heure.

Ma mère est belle.Elle n’aime pas les pelles.Elle aime manger le sel.Maman adore le ciel.

Mon père aime pêcher.Il n’aime pas danser.Il est bon à chasser.

Papa est un bon cuisinier.

J’aime les chatons.Je n’aime pas les dragons.

J’adore les moutons.Je mange beaucoup de bonbons.

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ElementaryGrades 1 and 2Nonfiction

SCHOOL: St. JosephTEACHER: Edith MacIntyreSCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Lynne Milette-CarrollUNIT: Peterborough, VNC

UNIT PRESIDENT: Bart Scollard

by MEGAN B ISS

94

Il s’appelle Caninball.

Caninball aime plonger dans l’eau.

Caninball aime jouer dans l’eau.

Caninball aime les personnes.

Caninball nage dans l’eau partout.

Caninball vit dans des mers immenses.

Caninball aime manger des poissons.

Caninball sait très bien nager.

Caninball nage très vite.

Caninball est gris.

LE DAUPHIN

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I I était une fois un chat qui s'appelait Black Mystery, mais tout lemonde l'appelait Mystery. Mystery avait un an et aimait lespersonnes. Les personnes qui prenaient soin de Mystery

s'appelaient Maman et Papa. Les enfants qui aidaient Papa et Mamans'appelaient Ben et Helen. Quand Mystery allait dehors, elle parlait àSmudge, la chatte qui habitait dans l'autre maison. Elle faisait la mêmechose toujours. Sa maison était dans la ville de L'eau Montagne.

«Bonjour Smudge, a dit Mystery, C'est presque ma fête!» «Je sais, maisviens voir la glace que j'ai trouvé près de la rivière.» a dit Smudge. Mysterya grimpé sur le gros morceau de glace mais soudainement la glace a brisé.Mystery a vu un gros monstre qui flottait sur l'eau. Le monstre a pris laglace où se trouvait Mystery et elle a tombé dans l'eau. Quand elle a ouvertses yeux, elle a vu qu'elle était dans une place très chaude.

Mystery marchait sur le sol chaud et soudainement elle a vu un groschat. II avait de la fourrure jaune et une grosse crinière. II regardait lafourrure noire de Mystery et demanda, «Est-ce que tu es perdu?» «Oui.Oui.» a dit Mystery. «Viens avec moi. II y a beaucoup de choses que tu peuxtrouver et manger. Oh! Et mon nom est King et je suis un lion. »

Quand les deux sont arrivés sous un gros arbre, King a dit «Va joueravec mon garçon, Prince.» «Oui, King.» a dit Mystery. Quand elle a vuPrince, elle lui demanda, «Prince, ou est-ce que nous sommes?» Prince a

ElementaryGrades 3 and 4Short Story

SCHOOL: St. Paul the ApostleTEACHER: Rachelle Roy

SCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Lise LachapelleUNIT: Sudbury Elementary

UNIT PRESIDENT: Kent MacNeill

by OL IV IA MAR IE K ING

95

BLACK MYSTERY ET LEMORCEAU DE GLACE

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répondu, «On est sur la savane de l'Afrique.» Quand le soleil était au milieudu ciel, un lion qui s'appelait Guard lui a dit qu'elle avait besoin d'aller.

Quand Mystery est parti, elle a vue quelques maisons. Un chat blanc l'avu et lui a dit, «Bonjour. Viens ici.» Mystery est allée et le chat a dit, «Monnom est Perdy, tu ne vis pas ici, je sais parce que tu n'a pas un collet.»Mystery a répondu, «Je vis dans la ville de L'eau Montagne.»

«Oh, tu a besoin de voir Cherryflower mais en premier tu as besoin devenir à ma maison.» dit Perdy. Mystery a mangé à la maison de Perdy etavant de partir, Perdy a dit, «Cherryflower est un chat brun pale.» QuandMystery a vu Cherryflower, elle a expliqué sa situation et Cherryflower adit «Le monstre est un bateau, le bateau là va à ta ville.» Mystery est alléesur le bateau et arriva à L'eau montagne.

La première amie que Mystery a vue était Smudge et elle lui expliquatout. Tout le monde était content de voir Mystery et elle a célébré une trèsbonne fête.

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ElementaryGrades 3 and 4Poem

SCHOOL: St. JosephTEACHER: Edith MacIntyreSCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Lynne Milette-CarrollUNIT: Peterborough, VNC

UNIT PRESIDENT: Bart Scollard

by ALEX VAN MIL

97

Je suis un enfant

qui s’appelle Tristan.

J’ai huit ans,

et j’ai maintenant vingt dents.

Je n’ai pas de parents

et je porte toujours un cardigan.

Je suis très grand,

mais je ne suis pas content.

Je vis avec mes grand-parents

Qui disent toujours « Franchement!

Qu’est ce que je fais avec cet enfant? »

Ma saison préférée est le printemps

Parce que c’est la dernière fois que j’ai vu Maman.

JE SUIS

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L es briques Lego étaient inventés par un charpentier danois. En1932, Ole Kristiansen était propriétaire d’une entreprise où il afabriqué des planches à repasser et des petits jouets en bois avec

six employés. Deux ans plus tard, Monsieur Kristiansen a donné le nomLego à ses briques. En danois, le mot Lego se traduit par « jouer bien » eten latin, « assemblez-les. »

En 1933, l’usine Lego était détruite par un feu. Monsieur Kristiansen areconstruit l’usine et il a commencé à fabriquer les jouets en plastique. En1949, la brique Lego était présenté au Danemark. Après quelques années,Lego était présenté à un salon de jouets en Allemagne avec de mauvaisrésultats. Monsieur Kristiansen n’était pas déçu. Il a continué et la mêmeannée, il avait de bons résultats en Suède. Dans quatre années, Lego étaitvendu en Angleterre, en France et en Belgique. En 1961, Lego était venduaux États-Unis et au Canada. Lego avait maintenant huit cent quarante-trois employés. Lego continue à grandir et le petit fils de MonsieurKristiansen est maintenant le chef de l’entreprise Lego.

Lego est plus que des briques à construire. Lego est un outil pourl’apprentissage et le développement de l’imagination et la créativité desenfants.

ElementaryGrades 3 and 4Nonfiction

SCHOOL: St. CyrilTEACHER: Dominique MartellSCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Nicole GuegueirreUNIT: Toronto Elementary

UNIT PRESIDENT: Anthony Bellissimo

by OL IVER MICHAEL WALES

98

LEGO

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J’aime beaucoup Lego et j’ai des briques et des pièces de Lego en massechez moi. Je les ai organisés dans des boites par couleur. Comme ça, c’estfacile à créer des nouvelles structures. Jouer avec Lego c’est vraiment unpasse-temps amusant qu’on peut jouer seule ou avec des amis. MerciMonsieur Kristiansen!

“Lego Timeline.” About Us-Corporate Information.The LEGO Group, 2010. www.lego.com

Page 102: Young Authors Booklet - 2010

A près quatre heures de voyage en auto, mes nerfs sont tendus,mon cœur bat. Moi et mes parents sont finalement arrivés àScarborough pour ma première compétition de trampoline.

C'est ma première année en trampoline compétitive et j'aime ce sport.Mes entraineurs m'ont beaucoup aidé pendant les derniers cinq mois.Maintenant, c'est le temps de démontrer aux juges ce que je peux faire.

Quand j'ai entré dans l'école de Pope John Paul II pour la compétition,j'ai été vraiment surprise. II y avait beaucoup de personnes et quatretrampolines. J'ai vu une des filles de mon équipe, Spring Action, qui étaithabillé dans des survêtements rouges et noirs, et aussi mes entraineursKarine et Heather. À ce moment là, j'étais calme et très excité.

J'ai regardé la compétition des garçons pendant quelques minutes, maisc'était déjà le temps pour mes étirements et mes réchauffements. Moi et uneautre athlète appelé Rosalind de Spring Action avons couru et sauté. Aprèstrente minutes, mon entraineur Karine est venu me dire que je devraispratiquer mes routines sur le trampoline. Les trampolines là-bas sontexactement comme les trampolines au centre Spring Action, alors j’étais àl’aise sur les trampolines. Karine m'a donné des conseils, elle m'a dit depresser mes jambes ensemble sur mon barani et faire un bond d'arrêt.

On a pratiqué sur les trampolines jusqu’au début de la compétition. J'aivu les juges et ils ont donné l'ordre de se présenter. J'ai devenu plus calmecar j'étais la dernière personne pour la compétition.

ElementaryGrades 5 and 6Short Story

SCHOOL: Good ShepherdTEACHER: Ghislaine L. Trépanier

SCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Christine RochonUNIT: Ottawa

UNIT PRESIDENT: Elaine McMahon

by SARA FEATHERSTONE

100

MA PREMIÈRE COMPÉTITIONDE TRAMPOLINE

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C'était le temps de faire ma première routine obligatoire. Je pense quej'ai très bien fait. Quand j'ai vu mes notes, elles étaient: 8.3, 8.3, 8.5 et 8.8.Ça c'est vraiment bon et mieux que j’espérais. Quand ce fut le temps pourfaire ma routine optionnelle, j'étais plus nerveuse parce que c'était plusdifficile. J'ai bien fait, mais mon saut d'arrêt n'était pas parfait, alors j'aipris un deuxième saut. Mais, mes notes étaient encore très bien: 7.4, 8.0,8.1 et 8.3.

Après que j'ai compétitionné, je suis allé voir mes parents. Ils ont ditque j'avais fait du très bon travail. L'annonceur a dit que c'est l’heured’annoncer les prix pour les filles d’Interclub.

Je suis allé m’asseoir en arrière sur le podium avec tous les autresathlètes. L’annonceur a commencé par la septième place. Ce n'était pas moi."J'espère que je suis au moins en sixième place." II a annoncé la sixièmeplace, et ce n'était pas moi. II a dit la cinquième, la quatrième, et latroisième place. Ce n'était pas moi! Maintenant, j’étais vraiment contente."Est-ce que je suis en deuxième place?!" J'ai pensé dans ma tête. L'homme aannoncé la deuxième place et……ce n'était pas moi! II a dit la premièreplace. « Et en première place, il a dit, Sara Featherstone, Spring Action! »J'ai chuchoté à moi-même, « OUI! » J’ai monté sur le podium numéro un.J'ai souri quand j’ai reçu ma médaille et ma fleur rouge. Beaucoup demonde ont pris des photos des personnes sur les podiums. Quelle bellejournée!

Ça c'était ma première compétition et j'ai gagné la première place. « Est-ce que tu penses que c'était une bonne idée d’aller à Scarborough pour unepetite compétition maintenant, maman? » J'ai demandé cette question à mamère. « Oui, vraiment, » dit ma mère. J'ai souri et j’ai tenu ma médailleprès de mon cœur.

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L'église, l'église c'est un endroit pour prier.

II y a des prêtres et des lecteurs qui vous aident à méditer.

On peut penser uniquement à la sainte trinité.

On écoute des histoires de la journée quand Jésus est né.

Mon église est une place tranquille où je pense-

J'observe Jésus et ses anges qui dansent.

Le soleil brillant passe par les fenêtres anciennes-

Parfois, il y a des gens qui ont de la peine.

Je chante dans le chorale des enfants,

ça me plaît et me rend content.

Ma partie préférée est l'apprentissage des miracles

comme la transfiguration, l'annonciation.

C'est comme un grand spectacle.

ElementaryGrades 5 and 6Poem

SCHOOL: Good ShepherdTEACHER: Ghislaine L. Trépanier

SCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Christine RochonUNIT: Ottawa

UNIT PRESIDENT: Elaine McMahon

by B IANCA P ICC IANO

102

L’ÉGLISE

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103

Je vais à la messe qui commence à 11 heures et finit à midi,

je n'aime pas quand la messe est presque finie.

Je suis un lecteur qui lit devant l'église,

Mon amie lit aussi, elle s'appelle Maryse.

Pendant la messe, je descends en bas,

je participe dans la liturgie des enfants.

J'apprends des prieurs, des bénédictions,

j'ouvre mon cœur aux magnifiques leçons.

La musique, les prieurs, la famille, les amis,

l'église est un endroit où on prie.

J'aime l'église, j'aime m'amuser.

L'église est mon endroit préféré.

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P enses-tu que le Canada devrait faire un nouveau symbolenational? Est-ce que le castor, le huard et la feuille d’érable sonttrop vieux? Ils sont des symboles bien connus, mais est-ce qu’ils

sont représentatifs du Canada? Selon moi, le bâton de hockey est le parfaitsymbole.

Dans les premières années du Canada, la fourrure d’un castorreprésentait la richesse du Canada. Dans les temps modernes, si tu portesun manteau avec la fourrure d’un castor, un champion des droitsd’animaux te lancent des tomates. Les castors sont travaillants, mais leurtravaille fuit inonder les rivières. Est-ce que c’est le parfait symbole?

Quand le Canada a fait du huard un symbole national, à quoi pensaient-ils? Je recherche pourquoi le huard est un symbole. Rien. Le jour après jerecherche encore pour la réponse. Encore rien. Peut-être que le huard estun symbole nationale parce qu’il habite en pleine nature souvent seul, maisles Canadiens sont unis!

La raison que la feuille d’érable est notre symbole est parce que lesautochtones utilisent la sève pour des médicaments, la nourriture, etc. Çareprésente justement notre passé. Mais les Canadiens doivent faire unsymbole qui représente notre passé, notre présent, et notre futur. Quepenses-tu est le parfait symbole pour nous?

ElementaryGrades 5 and 6Nonfiction

SCHOOL: École Catholique CathédraleTEACHER: Laura VermetteSCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Christine DoddUNIT: Algonquin-LakeshoreUNIT PRESIDENT: Tom Doyle

by SEAN MATTHEW STORR

104

UN NOUVEAU SYMBOLENATIONALE

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Pour moi c’est le bâton de hockey! Le bâton est très fort mais aussisouple. La pesanteur représente comment nous pouvons être dans les tempsdifficile.

Un bâton de hockey peut courber à la gauche, à la droite ou rester dansle centre. Ça représente nos parties politiques. La droite commeconservateurs, le centre comme les libéraux et la gauche comme le N.D.P.Le bâton de hockey est fait de différentes couches comme les différentesreligions et cultures dans notre pays.

Le bâton de hockey peut être utilisé par des filles et des garçons, par desprofessionnels et des amateurs, toutes les cultures et toutes les religions. Lebâton de hockey est pour tout le monde. Maintenant penses-tu que le bâtonde hockey est parfait pour notre symbole national?

Page 108: Young Authors Booklet - 2010

I l était une fois un ours noir nommé Brian. Il habitait dans le boisau bord de Huntsville. C’est la première fois que Brian se préparepour hiberner. Un jour, il voit une petite maison sur le bord de son

territoire. Brian était très curieux, alors il a enquêté la grande cour. Briana respiré l’air. Il n’a pas renflé d’humains, mais oh là là! Il y a un arômemagnifique! La nourriture!

L’arôme était dans une vieille remise en arrière de la cour. Brian est alléà la vieille remise et il a vu une grande poubelle plein de légumes pourris! «Il y a assez de nourriture ici pour manger pendant tout l’automne! » ditBrian. Il y a un petit trou dans le milieu de la poubelle assez grand pour unjeune ours. Brian appuie sur le trou. Soudain, ses pattes et sa tête sont dansla poubelle. Il mange des légumes pourris pendant longtemps. Il pense: Jesuis le plus ingénieux ours du monde!

Après une heure dans la poubelle, Brian décide qu’il a eu assez àmanger pour un jour. Il sort de la vieille remise et il retourne dans le boispour la nuit. Au matin, Brian retourne à la vieille remise et il fait la mêmechose qu’il a faite le jour avant. Pendant deux semaines, Brian revient à lavieille remise chaque matin pour manger des légumes pourris.

Chaque fois que Brian va à la vieille remise il grossit et il grandit. Etchaque fois que Brian va à la vieille remise, c’est plus ardu pour Brian depasser dans le petit trou. Un jour, Brian devient plus gros, alors son ventre

ElementaryGrades 7 and 8Short Story

SCHOOL: St. JosephTEACHER: Nathalie Leduc

SCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Nancy MontesUNIT: Waterloo

UNIT PRESIDENT: Mike Devoy

by JOEY S I LVA

106

BRIAN ET LA PETITE MAISON

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traine par terre. Il boitille à la vieille remise et il appuie sur le très petittrou. Brian mange des légumes pourris pendant une heure, mais quand ilessaye de sortir de la grande poubelle…aïe! « Je suis coincé! » Brian crie.

Brian essaye d’échapper de la grande poubelle, mais après trenteminutes, il a renflé une nouvelle odeur. Ce n’est pas les légumes pourris etce n’est pas le bois de pins. « Oh là là, c’est des humains! » dit Brian. PuisBrian entend un cri aigue et des pieds qui courent. Brian continued’essayer de s’échapper de la grande poubelle. Dix minutes plus tard,l’odeur des humains retourne. Brian éprouve un malaise tranchant sur soncorps. Puis, Brian tombe dans un sommeil profond.

Dans son sommeil profond, Brian rêve d’une personne qui porte desvêtements verts et qui coupe la grande poubelle avec une tronçonneusebruyante. Puis, Brian rêve qu’il a été mis sur un pick-up rouillé et conduitpendant longtemps. Quand Brian se réveille, il est dans son territoire, dansle bois.

Cette nuit là, Brian décide de ne jamais retourner à la vieille remise etde ne pas laisser son nez causer tellement de problèmes. À partir demaintenant, Brian se préparera pour hiberner dans son territoire. « Leshumains sont très effrayants pour moi! » dit Brian, et il commence àchercher pour sa nourriture dans son bois sûr.

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ElementaryGrades 7 and 8Poem

SCHOOL: Immaculate ConceptionTEACHER: Giovanna GiulianoSCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Maurice FeltrinUNIT: York

UNIT PRESIDENT: Liz Stuart

by STEPHANIE ROMEO

108

Unique, blanc, beau

L’hiver en Ontario

Chaque flocon est différent

Heureux, passionnant, joyeux

J’aime attraper les flocons sur ma langue

FLOCONS

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(Dring! Dring! Dring!)

Jane: Bonjour Mary!

Mary: Oh salut Jane. Comment vas-tu?

Jane: Bien merci. Je te parle parce que je veux savoir si tupeux aller voir un film avec moi?

Mary: J’aime regarder des films. Laisse-moi demander à mamère si je peux voir un film. (À sa mère) Maman,est-ce que je peux voir un film avec Jane? S’il vousplait!

Maman de Mary: Je suppose que tu peux aller mais je ne peux pas teconduire au cinéma. Est-ce que la mère de Jane peutvous conduire?

Mary: Laisse-moi demander à Jane. (À Jane) BonjourJane, ma mère ne peut pas conduire, est-ce que tamère peut conduire?

ElementaryGrades 7 and 8Play

SCHOOL: St. AgnesTEACHER: Renée Wills

SCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Karen Todd BustamanteUNIT: Waterloo

UNIT PRESIDENT: Mike Devoy

by HANNAH REMPEL

109

LA POMME BLEUE

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Jane: Bien sur! Je vais demander, est-ce que tu veuxinviter Anna et nous rencontrons à ma maison à 2heures?

Mary: J’aime Anna, je veux parler à Anna, et voir si ellepeut venir.

Jane: Au Revoir!

(Dring! Dring! Dring!)

Mary: Bonjour Anna, c’est Mary.

Anna: Bonjour Mary.

Mary: Je téléphone parce que Jane et moi, nous avonsbesoin de savoir si tu peux voir un film avec nous?

Anna: J’aime les films, je peux demander à ma mère si jepeux aller.

Mary: Parfait!

Anna: Une minute, je vais demander à ma mère.(À sa mère) Maman, est-ce que je peux voir un filmavec Mary et Jane?

Maman d’Anna: Tu as beaucoup de devoirs Anna, mais tu peux aller.

Anna: Oh merci Maman, merci! Je vais dire à Mary, elle vaêtre très heureuse. (À Mary) Mary? Ma maman ditque je peux aller, ça va être un grand amusement.

Mary: Super! Je vais parler à Jane, nous allons à sa maisonvers 2 heures. À plus tard alors.

Anna: Au plaisir.

(Dring! Dring! Dring!)

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111

Mary: Bonjour Jane c’est Mary encore. Anna peut venir,elle arrive à ta maison à 2 heures.

Jane: Bien! Je peux te rencontrer dans mon balcon, nouspouvons attendre dans le balcon pour Anna et puisma maman peut nous conduire.

Mary: Je ne peux pas attendre. Au revoir!

Jane: Au revoir!

(Deux heures plus tard)

Jane: Oh bonjour Mary, je suis heureuse de te voir! Annan’arrive pas.

Mary: C’est bien, nous pouvons aller attendre dans tonbalcon.

Anna: Salut Jane, Mary! Je suis excitée de voir un film.

Mary: Moi aussi.

Jane: Sommes-nous prêtes à partir?

Anna: Oui.

Mary: Allons-y!

Jane: MAMAN!

Maman de Jane: Partons!

(Au Cinéma)

Mary: Il y a beaucoup de personnes!

Maman de Jane: Je dois partir maintenant. Je peux chercher les fillesà 4 :30. Au revoir!

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Jane: Au revoir, Maman.

Anna: Je suis très super excitée.

Mary: Moi aussi!

Jane: Je peux aller acheter les billets, toi et Anna peuventacheter de la nourriture.

Anna: Quelle nourriture est-ce que tu veux?

Mary: POPCORN.

Jane: Et soda, merci.

Mary: Ok nous pouvons aller maintenant, Anna.

Anna: Au revoir Jane.

Jane: A bientôt!

Mary: Je peux acheter le popcorn au snack-bar. Tu peuxacheter le soda.

Anna: Bien!

Mary: Bonjour.

L’employé: Salut, qu’est ce que tu veux aujourd’hui?

Mary: Je veux… un grand popcorn avec beaucoup debeurre!

(Deux minutes plus tard)

L’employé: Un grand popcorn avec beaucoup de beurre pourtoi, madame.

Mary: Merci!

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L’employé: Il n’y en a pas.

Anna: Bonjour, je peux avoir un grand soda?

L’employé: Quelle boisson?

Anna: Coca-cola s’il vous plait.

L’employé: Et une paille?

Anna: Trois!

L’employé: Bien sûr, merci.

Anna: Au revoir.

L’employé: Au revoir.

Anna: Maintenant, je dois trouver Mary et Jane.

Jane: Bonjour! Est-ce que je peux avoir trois billets pour« La Pomme Bleue »?

L’employé: Oui, oui. Trois billets pour « La Pomme Bleue ».

Jane: Merci.

L’employé: Bon film!

Mary: Où sont Jane et Anna, j’espère qu’elles ne sont pasperdues.

Anna: Oh Jane et Mary ne sont pas ici! Je dois aller à lasécurité!

Sécurité: Bonjour madame, comment ça va?

Anna: Bien, mais je ne trouve pas mes amies. J’ai très peur.

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Sécurité: C’est ok.

Anna: Merci.

Sécurité: Je peux demander à un des employés d’annoncerdans le cinéma. Qui sont tes amies?

Anna: Jane et Mary.

Mary: Je ne veux pas que Jane et Anna me trouvent.(Munch munch munch) Ce popcorn avec beaucoupde beurre est délicieux.

Jane: Je ne crois pas, je dois trouver Anna et Mary parceque le film commence en 15 minutes. J’espèrequ’Anna ou Mary va à la sécurité. Je dois leschercher.

L’employé: Bonjour.

Jane: Salut, avez-vous trouvé deux jeunes filles?

L’employé: Oui, j’ai vu l’un qui est allé à droite, l’autre àgauche.

Jane: Merci.

Sécurité: Permettez-moi de demander, mais peux tu faire uneannonce pour moi?

Travailleur: Oui, oui. Qu’est ce que tu veux que j’annonce?

Anna: Est-ce que deux jeunes filles nommées Jane et Marypeuvent aller au snack-bar?

Travailleur: Certain! Bonjour à toutes les personnes dans lecinéma! Est-ce que deux jeunes filles nommées Janeet Mary peuvent aller au snack-bar? Merci et bonnejournée.

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Anna: Merci monsieur!

(Deux minutes plus tard)

Jane: Hourra Anna.

Mary: Oh c’est Anna, super! Je suis venue avec Jane etAnna.

Anna: Je suis très heureuse, nous sommes ensemble.

Jane: Le film commence en cinq minutes.

Mary: Nous sommes pressés.

Jane: Bonjour, nous avons trois billets pour « La PommeBleue ».

Travailleur: C’est le sixième théâtre à droite. Bon film!

Anna: Merci.

Mary: Je suis très excitée!

(Une heure et trente minutes plus tard)

Jane: J’adore le film, il est extraordinaire.

Anna: Il est mon film favori.

Jane: Ma maman nous attend, nous devons aller trouverma maman.

Mary: J’espère qu’elle n’est pas perdue.

Anna: ha! ha! ha! ha!

Jane: Bonjour Maman.

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Maman de Jane: Comment était le film, les filles?

Mary: Fantastique!

Anna: J’aime le film.

Jane: Oui, il est SUPER!

(Dans l’auto)

Mary: Nous devons aller voir un film le week-end prochain.

Jane: Oui, oui, pouvons-nous, Maman?

Maman de Jane: Si vous voulez.

Jane: Merci!

Anna: Yé!

Mary: Yahoo!

La Fin

Page 119: Young Authors Booklet - 2010

Au nom du Père, et du Fils, et du Saint Esprit. Amen.

Cher Jésus,

Les gens d’Haïti ont souffert une perte terrible. Le tremblement de terre adétruit les vies des gens. Je vous demande au nom de Jésus d’aider lesfamilles en Haïti. S’il vous plait est-ce que vous pouvez donner aux famillesl’espoir, la foi, et le courage de réagir à ce problème difficile. Donnez-leurl’abri, la protection, et la nourriture. Rappelez les gens dans les autres paysde faire un don pour aider les gens d’Haïti. S’il vous plaît aidez lespersonnes à comprendre l’importance d’aider Haïti à construire leur paysaprès la catastrophe que le tremblement de terre a causé. J’espère que tousles familles en Haïti reçoivent beaucoup de soutien. Merci beaucoup. Amen.

Au nom du Père, et du Fils, et du Saint Esprit. Amen.

ElementaryGrades 7 and 8Nonfiction

SCHOOL: St. MonicaTEACHER: Sophie Farag

SCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Frances WelshUNIT: York

UNIT PRESIDENT: Liz Stuart

by SHAE -LYNN CHUNG

117

PRIÈRE POUR HAÏTI

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B onjour. Je m’appelle Ace et je suis un chien. Nous, les chiens,avons une vie très dure. On mange, on dort, et on cherche lesballons. Comme vous pouvez voir, nos vies sont très difficiles.

Maintenant, je vais vous présenter un jour régulier dans ma vie.Je me réveille à six heures trente chaque matin et je me promène. Après

un sommeil très long, j’ai hâte de sortir dehors. Je m’assieds à côté de laporte et j’attends avec impatience. Quelques-uns de mes amis disent queleur maîtres les emmènent promener, c’est absurde! Nos maîtres ne nouspromènent pas, c’est nous qui les promènent. Le moment où mon maîtreouvre la porte, je saute dehors et il traine derrière moi. Je vois que monpère humain s’approche à notre voiture, et immédiatement, je sais que nousirons au parc.

Dans la voiture, je me rends confortable sur la place en arrière, et laprochaine chose que j’aperçois, est que nous nous trouvons à un parc dontje n’ai jamais visité. Ce jour commence à devenir un peu bizarre. Quandnous arrivons à ce parc inconnu, je ne sais pas ce que je dois faire. Dois-jemouiller les herbes? Et, est-ce que mes maîtres veulent que je chasse leballon? Voilà quelque chose que les êtres humains ne comprennent pas!Nous n’aimons pas chercher les ballons. Mon maître lance le ballon, jerapporte le ballon de nouveau…tout cela c’est très ennuyant. Je ne vais pasaux toilettes comme mes propriétaires espèrent. J’aimerais attendrejusqu’au moment où je reviendrai sur mon terrain.

SecondaryGrades 9 and 10Short Story

SCHOOL: Loretta AbbeyTEACHER: Erminia TonelliSCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Marcel CignaUNIT: Toronto Secondary

UNIT PRESIDENT: René Jansen in de Wal

by JOCELYNE BEELEN

118

UN JOUR DANS LA VIE D’ACE

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Quand nous arrivons chez nous, je gémis à la porte de notre maison.J’ai absolument besoin d’aller aux toilettes. Quel désastre! J’ai laissé mamarque par terre! Je trottine à mon lit avant que mon maître le découvre.Ce n’est pas ma faute que je ne peux pas attendre pour de longues périodessans aller à la salle de bain.

Maintenant, on m’appelle. Zut! Ce jour devient de plus en plusmauvais, j’espère que cette journée s’améliora. Les humains me trouventsous le bureau et ils me ferment dans ma cage.

Après cinq minutes, j’entends quelqu’un crier « Ace, ACE! Viens icipour prendre ton bain! » Oh non! C’est le temps du bain redouté. Monmaître s’approche. JE NE VEUX PAS PRENDRE UN BAIN! Il n’y aaucune possibilité de m’enfuir. Puisque je suis un chien, je dois prendre monbain à l’extérieur. Mon maître me traîne dehors, dans la neige. Oui, c’estl’hiver et il fait froid. Maintenant, je suis tout mouillé dans la neige. Lesbouts de mes cheveux commencent à se geler. Lorsque je rentre chez moi, onme donne un biscuit délicieux. Après trois secondes, le biscuit est disparu.

Je suis dehors une autre fois, mais maintenant je ne suis pas mouillé. Jeme sens très doux, comme du satin. Je me promène dans mon jardin et jeveux faire-ÉCUREUIL! Oh non, l’écureuil part toute de suite. Je ne mesouviens plus de ce dont je parlais avant. Hhmm…Oh! Je me souviens.Reconnais-tu les sentiments de l’amour? Je connais une chienne quis’appelle Cindy. Je l’adore, et je pense qu’elle m’adore aussi! Elle meregarde avec les yeux amoureux. Je dois développer la confiance de luidemandé de sortir avec moi. Là-voila maintenant, je peux la voir à l’autrecôté de la rue.

« Bonjour Cindy! »« Bonjour Ace. »« J’aimerais vous demander quelque chose. Voudriez-vous partager des

biscuits chez moi? Nous pourrions surveiller mes maîtres parce qu’ils fontdes choses très amusantes de temps en temps. »

« Mais oui! »« D’accord. Au revoir. »« À demain. »Aujourd’hui était un jour extraordinaire. J’ai un rendez-vous demain

avec une chienne que j’aime beaucoup. Penses-tu qu’elle m’aime? Il fautque je parte maintenant parce que j’ai beaucoup à faire. Je dois brossermes dents, peigner mes cheveux, nettoyer la maison, et acheter des biscuits!C’est beaucoup! Souhaite-moi de la chance et merci pour cette journée trèsamusante!

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Les lumières intenses éclairent son visageUne goutte de sueur coule sur sa joue

Le temps semble arrêté comme un trou dans l’espaceChaque moment de sa vie apparaît devant lui

Il jette un coup d’œil sur les spectateursIl semble n’y avoir personne

Mais en regardant encore une foisIl remarque deux mille visages fixés sur lui

Une sensation de nausée envahit son corpsAccompagnée de sensations de fierté,De joie, de confusion, et d’impatience

L’engourdissement se propage

Les prochains pas vers le pianoRessemblant mille kilomètres

Arrivée à sa destinationIl reconnaît le confort de son instrument

SecondaryGrades 9 and 10Poem

SCHOOL: St. MichaelTEACHER: Lyne Gratton

SCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Derek ThainUNIT: Eastern Ontario

UNIT PRESIDENT: Barb Dobrowolski

by GABR IEL TAM-POUDR IER

120

LE SOLO

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Il s’assoit, et regarde la surface noire et blancheIl commande l’attention de tout le monde

La salle comblée devient tellement silencieuseQue ses oreilles lui fait mal

Alors il joue la première notePour remplir l’espace vacante de son

La mélodie perce l’airComme l’eau fend le diamant

Son esprit se promène à travers l’universMais son corps est emprisonné sur terreAutant que la situation est terrifiante

Il veut qu’elle dure une éternité

Avec soulagementIl frappe la dernière note

Le morceau est finiMais il ne veut pas que la fin soit sentie

Il souhaite reculer le tempsIl cache un visage mélancolique

Derrière une grimaceUn énorme applaudissement résonne à travers la salle

Il se tient debout et absorbe la nouvelle gloireIl réalise que ce n’est pas si grave

Car tout ce qui existe se termine un jour

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Narrateur: Sarah et Jason, deux meilleurs amis, vont au ROM.Les deux amis sont aventureux et courageux.

Jason: Oh mon dieu! Je suis très fatigué d’écouter le guide.

Sarah: Oui! Oui! Je vais m’endormir.

(Elle ronfle.)

Ralph (le guide): Il est interdit d’entrer parce que c’est dangereux.

Jason: Allons-y!

Sarah: C’est une bonne idée.

(Ralph continue le tour guidé mais ne réalise pas que Sarah et Jasonvont dans la chambre. Sarah et Jason ouvrent la porte et il fait noir,ainsi ils tombent sur le fil. Soudain, il y a de différentes lumièresbrillantes.)

Jason: Qu’est ce que c’est?

SecondaryGrades 9 and 10Play

SCHOOL: St. Theresa of LisieuxTEACHER: Gino Marcuzzi

SCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Matthew KavanaghUNIT: York

UNIT PRESIDENT: Liz Stuart

by EUNNA JUNG AND ALYANNAH KASSAM

122

L’AN 2050

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Sarah: Je ne sais pas.

Jason: Regarde! C’est un bouton rouge qui dit « Poussez ».

Sarah: Pousse-le.

Jason: Un, deux, trois…On y va!

Narrateur: Cinq minutes plus tard, ils arrivent dans unenouvelle dimension et ils tombent par terre. Ils ont latête qui tourne et ils regardent autour d’eux. Toutest fondé sur la technologie. Il y a des voituresvolantes, des robots, des monorails. Il n’y a pas deneige, ni d’hiver, ni d’arbres. Tout le monde est trèsgrand. Ils sont maintenant dans le futur.

Jason: Où sommes-nous? Qu’est ce qui se passe?

Sarah: Je ne sais pas. Je suis très confuse.

Jason: Regarde-là! Je vois notre ami, Thomas Anderson.

Sarah: Où?

Jason: Là!

Sarah et Jason: THOMAS! THOMAS! VIENS-ICI!

(Ils font signe des mains pour l’appeler.)

Thomas: Salut ! Pourquoi êtes-vous ici?

Sarah: Tout ce que je peux me rappeler, c’est d’être entrédans le musée.

Thomas: Dans le musée…?

Jason: Oui! Il y a une machine électrique énorme.

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Thomas: C’est ma machine que j’ai créé. J’ai fait cela pourpasser le temps.

Sarah: Alors, où sommes-nous?

Thomas: C’est l’an 2050!

Jason: Pourquoi est-ce ainsi pollué? Où sont tous lesarbres? Pourquoi?

Thomas: Calmez-vous! La ville est polluée parce que le mondeest devenu trop dépendant sur la technologie. Il n’ya plus d’arbres parce qu’ils ont besoin de plusd’espace pour des compagnies. Je sais que ce mondea changé.

Sarah: Oh mon dieu! Je ne crois pas que le monde estdevenu comme ceci.

Jason: Le monde va être ainsi dans les prochaines quaranteannées! J’ai peur.

Thomas: Oui! Je pense que nous devons préserver nosressources avant que ça se passe.

Narrateur: Thomas ramène Sarah et Jason au musée. Quand ilsretournent à la maison, ils veulent sauver la planète.Ils deviennent respectueux de l’environnement.Sarah et Jason disent à tout le monde de devenir desamis de l’environnement.

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I l était passionné, tendre, et motivé. Il était vraiment un hommeremarquable. Il s’appelait Kyung Soo Shin, mon cher grand-père.Bien qu’il fût mort avant ma naissance, mon père me parle de ses

réussites depuis mon enfance. Quand je serai grande, je voudrai aussidevenir un exemple extraordinaire à suivre, comme lui.

Mon grand-père est né en Corée. Comme les autres Coréens en 1918, ilétait pauvre. Alors, pour gagner sa vie, il vendait des journaux et iltravaillait dans un restaurant jusqu’à ce qu’il eût assez d’argent pour faireses études en Chine.

Quand il est retourné en Corée, il est devenu éducateur, parce qu’ilaimait travailler avec les jeunes. En fait, il a eu une forte influence sur eux.Pour cette raison, quand la guerre coréenne a commencé, les soldats de laCorée du nord l’ont cherché. Par conséquent, mon grand-père a fuit à lacampagne où il s’est fait passer pour un fermier.

Un jour, un groupe de soldats est arrivé chez lui. Un soldat a placé uncouteau devant le cou de ma grand-mère. Il lui a demandé, « Ou est tonmari ? » Probablement qu’elle avait froid dans le dos, mais elle a refusé deparler. Évidement, ma grand-mère avait le cœur au ventre et aussi, elleaimait tellement son mari.

Après la guerre, quand il est retourné chez lui, Kyung Soo Shin estdevenu journaliste à Inchon en Corée. Il a écrit des articles au sujet de son

SecondaryGrades 9 and 10Nonfiction

SCHOOL: St. RobertTEACHER: Nancy TorresanSCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Denis ZmakUNIT: York

UNIT PRESIDENT: Liz Stuart

by ASHLEY AHYOUNG SHIN

125

UN HÉROS MAGNIFIQUE

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expérience pendant la guerre. Son écriture a inspiré beaucoup de gens quiavaient éprouvé les mêmes difficultés.

J’espère que je pourrai réaliser mes rêves dans ma vie, comme mongrand-père a fait en gagnant assez d’argent pour faire ses études. Je vaisétudier assidûment pour que je puisse devenir avocate. Je suis vraimentreconnaissante de ses réussites. Je l’aime beaucoup.

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E lle s’est rappelée d’un matin quand tout avait changésoudainement. Les lumières de la ville se sont éteintes, les sons dela circulation des voitures n’étaient plus entendues, et la hâte du

matin de la population sur la rue était disparu. C’était un jour calme; le cield’un bleu connu avait tourné gris. Le grand nuage a couvert la seulelumière qu’il y avait. C’était la crainte de Dame Nature qui a pris sur lesgens. Les désastres naturels étaient le sujet de la ville, dans chaque maison,sur chaque chaine de télévision, qui diffusait la même histoire. Toutes lesvilles contenaient plusieurs pièces sécuritaires, normalement dans lesmaisons. C’était à ce temps-là que la population de la ville se mettait dansleurs pièces sécuritaires. Les pièces sécuritaires contenaient des lampes, dela nourriture, du chauffage, et d’autres nécessités pendant cette expériencenaturelle.

Elle s’appelait Natalie, une jeune femme de 19 ans. Elle était mince etpetite avec des grands yeux bleus. À l’âge de cinq ans, elle avait perdu samère et son père dans un accident de voiture. Elle a commencé à pleurer,en regardant des photos de sa naissance, avec des souvenirs de ses parents.Depuis l’âge dont elle avait perdu ses parents, elle est restée avec sa mamie,la mère de son père. Elle était le seule membre de sa famille qui restait dansla ville de Sephoriste. C’était à ce moment là qu’elle se rappelait qu’elleavait tout perdu.

SecondaryGrades 11 and 12Short Story

SCHOOL: St. Theresa of LisieuxTEACHER: C. Sabatini

SCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Matthew KavanaghUNIT: York

UNIT PRESIDENT: Liz Stuart

by LOR I -BETH GONCALVES

127

LA PEUR BLEUE

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Le jour du commencement du désastre, tous les gens de Sephoristeétaient inquiétés. La population entière dans leurs pièces sécuritaires. Lapetite Natalie, effrayée, descendait avec sa mamie. Elles se sont assises surun canapé, en attendant que ce désastre se termine.

À ce moment-là, elle à demandé à sa mamie, « Qu’est ce qui se passe?On va être bien mamie? On va s’en sortir? »

La mamie a répondu avec une inquiétude dans ses yeux, « Oui, maprincesse. »

« Qu’allons nous faire? Comment puis-je t’aider mamie? »Avant que sa mamie puisse répondre, les tremblements étaient survenus

dans la cuisine et les sons des plats qui se cassaient sont devenus plus forts.Il n’y avait plus de lumière dans la maison. Elle criait pour l’aide.

« Quelqu’un aide-moi! Quelqu’un m’entend? »Mais il n’y avait personne, chaque personne dans leurs pièces, il y avait

une peur bleue. Pauvre petite, alarmée. Il y avait que sa mamie et elle-même dans la grande maison.

Toute la ville pensait : « Qu’est ce qu’elle avait, Dame Nature? »La mamie de Natalie a survécu beaucoup dans sa vie. Elle était déjà

âgée. Une dame de soixante-quatre ans, une dame qui n’avait plus rien,sauf sa petite fille.

Tout d’un coup, la mamie de la fille est tombée.« Mamie? Mamie? Qu’est ce qu’il y a? »En la regardant, « Je suis désolée ma petite. Je ne me sens pas bien. Il

faut que tu t’en sortes toute seule. Je ne peux pas t’aider. Est-ce que tu peuxme chercher de l’eau? »

« Mais, Mamie, qu’est ce que tu as? Dit-moi! Oui, bien sur, je vais t’enchercher. »

Natalie ne savait plus quoi faire, tellement jeune, en sachant qu’elle apeut-être perdu quelqu’un d’autre dans sa vie. La mamie s’est fermé lesyeux. En retournant, Natalie courrait et a laissé tomber le verre qui étaitrempli d’eau. C’était là que Natalie s’est rendu compte que c’était la fin del’histoire pour sa mamie.

Natalie se rappelait de tout ce que sa mamie l’avait enseigné. Elle a prisun oreiller et l’a mis en dessous de la tête de sa mamie. Là était sa mamie,les yeux fermés. Elle a subi une attaque cardiaque. Natalie était toute seulesans personne. Elle s’est mise à genou et à demandé au Seigneur qu’il puissel’aider, que ce désastre s’arrête. Elle pleurait et pleurait. Ce désastre neterminera jamais.

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Soudainement, le bruit s’est arrêté. Natalie est sortie de la piècesécuritaire. Elle a monté les escaliers avec impatience. En courant, ellepassait les couloirs, en direction de la porte. En ouvrant la porte, elle aélevé sa tête lentement et elle a regardé l’extérieur de sa rue. Les arbresétaient tombés par terre, sur les voitures, et le terrain du voisin; les vieillesmaisons étaient aussi tombées.

Il n’y avait plus personne dans la ville. Elle frappait sur la porte desvoisins, elle a essayé d’appeler les secours: personne. Personne ne l’avaitrépondu. Elle était seule, plus personne dans ce monde. Mais commentallait-t-elle s’en sortir? À ce moment, Natalie s’est assise par terre, encriant. La peur bleue continuait. Natalie, seule au monde, un nouveaucommencement.

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Tous les moments dans une vieSont pris par le monstre de l’envie

Étrangler, le piège, capturant et suffoquantLa seule chose dans le désert sont les retentisÉpuisés par d’interminable saisi de jalousieEntre moi-même, mon cœur, mon esprit

L’envie est l’esprit du diable.

Avarice, avec moi-même et dans moi-mêmePremière, deuxième, troisième, quatrièmeChaque chance est sèche, pas de générositéVouloir, la seule chose qu’est anathèmeLe débat constant pour casser le système

L’avarice est les yeux du diable.

Fierté, le mirage de l’importanceN’est rien, avec grande circonstance

C’est bien avec humilitéEt meilleur pas d’abondanceLa fierté est l’âme du diable.

SecondaryGrades 11 and 12Poem

SCHOOL: St. Mary’sTEACHER: Cidalia Sousa

SCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Patty SheaUNIT: Waterloo

UNIT PRESIDENT: Mike Devoy

by BRANDON TORRALBA

130

LE CÔTÉ AMER DE LA VIE

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La mort de la génération prochaineDans le désert, c’est la haineEssayer, essayer, pour succès

La paresse est les pieds du diable.

Tentation, l’amour d’une autreEngouement, la chance pour un mauvais futur

Le désir est le cœur du diable.

La faim est fixée par satisfactionLa gloutonnerie est l’estomac du diable.

Courroux est la douleur du diable.

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SCÈNE 1:(Petite ville en Ontario. Maison où une fête se déroule et ça bouge!)

Romiette : Je me demande qui va se présenter ce soir. J’espèrede pouvoir rencontrer au moins un beau gars. Çafait déjà trois jours que je suis sans petit copain!C’est presqu’une éternité!

Tibaulta: Tu es comique, Romiette. Moi j’espère que les garsde l’Académie Montague ne viennent pas sans êtresinvités, comme l’année passée! C’était un désastrequi a terminé avec beaucoup de blessures. Tu sais àquel point nos gars les détestent. Ils se battent tout letemps!

Jean: J’ai entendu dire que lors de leur dernieraffrontement, les policiers ont dû intervenir et ontsaisi une douzaine de couteaux! Apparemment,quelqu’un avait aussi un fusil!

Tibaulta: Je crois que ce serait mieux s’ils ne se rencontraientpas ce soir.

SecondaryGrades 11 and 12Play

SCHOOL: Loretto AbbeyTEACHER: Anthony Tommasane

SCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Marcel CignaUNIT: Toronto Secondary

UNIT PRESIDENT: René Jansen in de Wal

by KELT IE CHAN-TS IAP - S IONG AND MIR IAM HYGINUS

132

ROMIETTE ET JULIO

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(Julio arrive avec ses amis, il est déguisé en costume de diable. Romiettele remarque.)

Romiette: C’est qui ce gars en costume de diable? Il semble àmon goût. Je vais aller lui parler! Souhaite-moi lachance!

Tibaulta: Bonne chance! Fais attention!

Romiette (à Julio) : Je ne t’ai jamais vu par ici. T’es qui, toi?

Julio: Shhh…cesse de parler. Dansons!

(Julio et Romiette dansent ensemble et tombent en amour.)

Romiette: Quittons cette fête et allons-y chez moi. Nouspourrions apprendre à nous connaître d’avantage.

(Ils quittent la fête et se rendent chez Romiette.)

SCÈNE 2:(Escaliers de secours, derrière l’appartement de Romiette)

Julio : C’est là que tu habites?

Romiette: Oui. Alors vas-tu enlever ton masque afin que jepeux te voir?

Julio: Pas encore. Pourquoi ruiner le mystère? Tu sais, tesyeux brillent comme des étoiles. Ton sourire faitfondre mon cœur. Tu es belle, ma chérie. Trop belle.

Romiette: Je t’aime. Malgré tout, je t’aime. Je t’aimerai pourtoujours!

Julio: Tu me promets, Romiette? Malgré tout?

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Romiette: Oui, je te promets que je t’aimerai pour toujours!Maintenant, enlève ce masque!

(Julio enlève le masque et révèle sa figure.)

Romiette: Ce n’est pas vrai! Tu es Julio? Le leader desMontagues?!

Julio: Oui. Mais tu m’as promis, Romiette, que tum’aimerais pour toujours!

Romiette: Ah oui. D’accord, Julio. Je t’aimerais pour toujours!

Julio: Ah, je suis rassuré. Je t’aime ma chère. Je veux temarier!

Romiette: Oui, oui, d’accord, Julio. Je te rencontre demain àl’église! (La mère de Romiette appelle sa fille.)Ah non! Ma mère. Personne ne peut apprendre ausujet de notre amour tout de suite. Je monte lesescaliers. Toi, pars chez toi mon cher Julio. Jet’aime. À demain!

Julio: Oh, que mon cœur bat fort. Je ne peux pas attendrejusqu’à demain pour te voir, ma chère.

SCÈNE 3:(Romiette attend Julio devant l’église.)

Romiette: Tu es en retard! Le prêtre nous attend!

Julio: Pardonne-moi, ma chère. Je devais distraire mesamis!

Romiette: Bon, d’accord. Allons-y. Rentrons.

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(Ils entrent dans le bureau du Père Laurentien.)

Père Laurentien: Bienvenue à la paroisse St-Louis de Paris, les jeunes.En quoi puis-je vous être utile?

Julio: Merci, Père. Nous désirons nous marier, Romiette etmoi.

Père Laurentien: Eh bien, quel âge avez-vous, les jeunes?

Romiette: Moi, j’ai quinze ans. Je crois que Julio a dix-septans. C’est vrai, mon chéri?

Julio: Oui, ma chère. Comme nous nous connaissons bien!

Père Laurentien: Je crois que vous êtes un peu trop jeunes pour lemariage. Parlez-moi à propos de votre relation.Comment est-ce que vous vous êtes rencontrés?

Julio: Tout a commencé le soir de l’Halloween. On a danséensemble et cela a été le coup de foudre. C’est aprèsça que j’ai appris qu’il était Julio, de l’AcadémieMontague, mon école ennemie. Mais je l’avais promisque je l’aimerais pour toujours. Alors, nous voilà!

Romiette: Je savais qu’elle était de l’École Secondaire Capuletmais ça ne me dérangeais pas. J’étais trop ébloui parsa beauté.

Père Laurentien: Ah, je vois. Selon moi, je crois que vous êtes un peutrop jeunes pour vous marier. Je vous conseille deralentir les choses. Vous devrez avoir des autresexpériences avant de faire quelque chose que vousallez regretter!

Julio: Alors vous n’allez pas nous marier! PartonsRomiette! Ne gaspillons pas notre temps ici!

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Romiette: D’accord. Au revoir, Père. Merci pour votre temps.

(Ils quittent l’église et se tiennent debout devant l’arrêt d’autobus.)

Julio: Qu’allons-nous faire maintenant?

Romiette: Regarde l’affiche!

« Mariage rapide pour $300! Appelez le 1-800-MARIAGES55 »

Julio: Bonne idée! Combien d’argent as-tu?

Romiette: Je n’ai que $299. Je voulais m’acheter une paire desouliers au centre d’achats aujourd’hui.

Julio: Parfait! J’ais $1! Allons-nous marier, chérie!

(Ils font un coup de fil, se rendent au centre de mariages rapides et semarient officiellement.)

SCÈNE 4:(Dans le stationnement, les amis de Romiette et Julio se rencontrent.)

Ben volio: Regardez, les gars, ce sont les misérables de l’ÉcoleCapulet! Ha ha!

Mercucci: Oui, on doit les aider, non? (Éclats de rire) On doitles rendre contents!

(Il donne un coup de poing à Jean, Jean lui donne un coup de pied. Toutle monde commence à se battre.)

Tibaulta: Eh, Mercucci!! Viens-ici, si tu es courageux!

(Mercucci y va, et Tibaulta le poignarde. Mercucci meurt. Les gens del’Académie Montague s’enfuient. Julio arrive.)

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Julio: Mercucci!! Noooon!! Qui a fait ça?! Qui?! Dis-moi!!Dis-moi!!

(Mais Mercucci, qui est mort, ne répond pas. Julio voit Tibaulta avec soncouteau.)

Julio: Toi!! C’est toi, mauvaise fille!! Je te hais!! Je te hais!

(Il court vers elle, et lui donne un coup de poing violent. Elle, étantdélicate, tombe à terre, son crâne se fend en deux et elle meurt.)

Julio: Oh non, qu’est-ce que j’ai fait?! Je suis unmeurtrier!! Je dois quitter cette ville… Je vaisapporter Romiette avec moi car sens elle, jemourrais sans doute!

SCÈNE 5:(Motel à Toronto, chambre à coucher. Il y a des affiches des genscélèbres, y compris une de Heath Ledger.)

Julio: Ici, ma chère Romiette, on sera sauf.

Romiette: Correction: tu seras sauf. Moi je n’ai rien fait. Hi,hi!

Julio: Oui, c’est correct. Ah, je suis très fatigué!

Romiette: Peut-être c’est parce que tu as tué ma chère cousine?

Julio: C’est une possibilité. Tu n’es pas fâché, chérie?

Romiette: Oh, pas du tout. Elle était seulement ma meilleureamie. Hi hi!

Julio: Donc, couchons-nous.

(Il éteint la lumière et commence à ronfler.)

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Romiette (chuchoté):Je ne peux pas dormir. Je vais prendre messomnifères. Ah, que je déteste Julio! (Elle avaleles pilules, et s’endort immédiatement.)

(Le matin prochain)

Julio: Ah! J’ai bien dormi!! Et toi, chérie?

(Romiette ne répond pas. Elle est immobile. Julio la secoue. Elle ne bougepas.)

Julio: Romiette! Romiette! Qu’est-ce qui s’est passé?(Il voit les somnifères.) Elle a eu trop demédecine, la chérie! Mais pourquoi? Est-ce parceque cette vie n’était plus supportable? Ou parcequ’elle m’aimait trop? POURQUOI?!

(Dans un acte de désespoir, il fait une overdose aussi, en regardantl’affiche de Heath Ledger.)

Julio: Je vais me suicider, comme toi, Heath! (Il meurt.)

(Trois minutes plus tard: Romiette rentre de la salle de bain avec desbouchons anti bruit dans ses oreilles. Elle voit le cadavre de Julio.)

Romiette: Eh bien, c’était plus facile que je pensais! Il avraiment cru que ce ballot de vêtements était moi!Hi, hi! Pauvre Julio! Je vais téléphoner à la policepour leur informer de son suicide. Oh là là! Je suisune veuve à l’âge de quinze ans!

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SCÈNE 6:(Dans le cimetière, aux funérailles de Julio. Les membres de sa famille etses amis pleurent. Romiette est aussi présente.)

Mère de Julio: Bonjour, Romiette.

Romiette: Bonjour. (Elle sanglote.)

Mère de Julio: Amusez-vous avec l’assurance de vie de mon fils?Ah, comme je te déteste!

Romiette: Ah, comme vous êtes cruelle! (Elle sanglote encore.)

(Le cercueil est enterré. Tout le monde retourne chez eux.)

Narrateur: L’histoire tragique de cet amour est terminée.Les amoureux sont séparés.Romiette reste célibataire jusqu’à la prochaine fête.Elle a oublié Romeo avec un mouvement de la tête.Il n’y avait jamais une fille qui a fait plus de mauxque Romiette a fait à son pauvre Romeo!

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L e bourgeois gentilhomme et Le bourgeois gentleman sont deuxlivres très similaires, mais aussi très différents. Ce sont deuxpièces assez semblables, mais aussi individuellement distinctes.

Cette composition va démontrer les différences et les indéniables similaritésqu'on retrouve dans ces deux pièces de théâtre. Premièrement, on a unecomparaison brève des deux auteurs de ces comédies, Molière et AntonineMaillet. Ensuite, on a une analyse des temps durant lesquels ces livres ontété écrits et des personnages créés par chaque auteur. Finalement, on a unbref compte rendu des histoires et comment elles se comparent.

Jean Baptiste Poquelin, aussi connu comme « Molière » est l’auteuroriginal de Le bourgeois gentilhomme. II est né en France, à Paris, en 1622et a été considéré un des plus grands maîtres de la comédie en ce quiconcerne la littérature occidentale. Ses pièces de théâtre les plus célèbressont: Le misanthrope, L'école des femmes, Tartuffe ou L'Imposteur,L'avare, et bien sur, Le bourgeois gentilhomme. D'autre part, AntonineMaillet est l'auteure de l'adaptation de Le bourgeois gentilhomme qu'elle vaappeler Le bourgeois gentleman. Née au Nouveau-Brunswick en 1929, ellea une perspective de la vie complètement différente que celle de Molière.Elle est une auteure acadienne qui a appris son métier comme raconteused'histoire de sa parenté pionnière, du folklore rural, des artistes du villageet pendant les rencontres électorales. La plupart du temps Maillet est

SecondaryGrades 11 and 12Nonfiction

SCHOOL: Loretto AbbeyTEACHER: Marcel Cigna

SCHOOL STAFF REPRESENTATIVE:

Marcel CignaUNIT: Toronto Secondary

UNIT PRESIDENT: René Jansen in de Wal

by M-E . KAMIE ARAB IAN

140

BOURGEOIS GENTILHOMMEET BOURGEOIS GENTLEMAN

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reconnue pour son écriture de Lex Cracceux, Gapi, Mariaagelas, Argot lafolle et Pélagie la charrette. Enfin, même si ces deux auteurs ont desbiographies très différentes, leur amour du théâtre les unit.

Ces deux pièces ont été écrites à des périodes différentes. Le bourgeoisgentilhomme au dix-septième siècle tandis que Le bourgeois gentleman a étéécrit au vingtième siècle. Pendant le dix-septième siècle, les études étaientplus concentrées dans les domaines des arts. Donc en parallèle, dans lapièce de Molière, il y a beaucoup de maîtres d'arts. Par exemple, les maîtresd’art, de danse et de philosophie sont des personnages importants àl’intrigue de la pièce. Cependant, au vingtième siècle, les choix des étudeschangent et les leçons des maîtres changent. Dans Le bourgeois gentleman,les maîtres enseignent l’éducation physique et les langues. D'ailleurs,Molière a été influencé par les événements de son temps. Le roi Louis XIVvoulut faire un voyage à Chambord pour décompresser en faisant de lachasse et il voulut donner à sa cour un ballet. Comme l'idée des Turcs, quivenaient fréquenter Paris, il crut qu'il serait bien de les faire apparaître surla scène. Donc en novembre 1669, Louis XIV s'est présenté dans les plusgrands fastes. Par exemple, « Son brocart d'or était tellement couvert dediamants qu'il semblait entouré de lumière et son chapeau était aussi ornéd'un bouquet de plumes magnifiques ». À la réception, le Turc, d'un tonglacial et austère a dit que «lorsque le Grand Seigneur se montrait aupeuple, son cheval était plus richement orné que l'habit qu'il venait de voir.» Donc, voilà l'inspiration de Molière en décidant d'ajouter «la turquerie »dans sa pièce. À son tour, Maillet a été inspiré par Molière d'écrire uneversion plus moderne.

Les personnages dans ces deux livres sont très similaires, mais en mêmetemps très différents. Premièrement, il y a un petit changement de nom.Monsieur Jourdain devient Monsieur Bourgeois dans la pièce de Maillet.Essentiellement, ces deux personnages ont la même personnalité. Ces deuxmessieurs sont très stupides et obtus. Ils ne comprennent pas que 1'intégritéest plus importante que tout 1'argent du monde. Similairement, MadameJourdain devient Mme Bourgeois dans la pièce de Maillet. Ces deuxpersonnages ont le même caractère. Elles ont, toutes les deux, leurs piedssur terre et l'argent ne les aient pas corrompus. Elles sont des dameshonorables et très intelligentes, elles sont très attachées aux valeurs. Nicole,dans Molière et la Joséphine de Maillet sont toutes les deux très comiques.Elles se moquent toujours du pauvre Bourgeois, de ses costumes et de sesairs extravagants. Même si elles sont les servantes, la plupart du temps,Joséphine et Nicole sont très audacieuses et ne font pas les tâches que M.

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Bourgeois/Jourdain leur revendique. Lucile devient Lucille et elle esttoujours amoureuse de quelqu'un que son père n'accepte pas. Pareillement,Dorante, le vilain dans Le bourgeois gentilhomme devient Sir HaroldFeatherstonehaugh dans Le bourgeois gentleman. II est le même hommeégoïste, méchant et escroc. Cependant, dans le théâtre de Molière il y aplusieurs autres personnages qui ne sont pas inclus dans la pièce d'AntonineMaillet. Dans Le bourgeois gentilhomme, l'amant de Lucile n'est pas unchauffeur, mais le fils d'un bourgeois appelé Cléonte. En plus, Cléonte a unvalet du nom de Covielle qui est l'amant de la servante de M. Jourdain,Nicole. Néanmoins, les personnages dans la version de Molière sontbeaucoup plus complexes et intelligents.

Finalement, dans la comparaison des deux histoires, même si elles ont lemême concept, Le bourgeois gentilhomme est beaucoup plus complexe.Molière a inclus beaucoup plus de personnages dans sa pièce et une intrigueplus compliquée. Par exemple, à la place d'avoir juste un seul amant, il acréé deux amants, l'un pour Lucile et un l'autre pour Nicole. La cérémonieturque a été une autre scène que Maillet n'a pas incluse dans son adaptationet ainsi j'ai cru que l'original Le bourgeois gentilhomme était beaucoup plusdrôle que l'adaptation moderne. Aussi, les occupations des bourgeoisdifférent: pendant que M. Bourgeois gagne sa fortune en fabriquant lesclaques, M. Jourdain gagne sa vie en vendant des tissus. Finalement, dansla pièce de Molière, M. Jourdain veut devenir royale comme les marquis.Cependant, dans Le bourgeois gentleman, M. Bourgeois veut être commeles riches de son temps, les Anglais.

En conclusion, ces deux livres étaient un bon choix pour faire unecomparaison. Ils avaient beaucoup de similarités, mais aussi desdifférences. En tout cas, les deux sont des pièces de théâtreimpressionnantes et très amusantes.

Maillet, Antonine. Le bourgeois gentleman. Montréal: Lémeac, 1992.

Molière. Le bourgeois gentilhomme. Paris: Éditions Larousse, 2007.