Vol. 16,



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Voces de Cambio

Is Virginity Worth It?

Where I Hang My Hat

Activist of the Month

Selling Out or Working My Way Out?

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The Pillar Project

Individuality

Individuality Livia Celmaster, 13
Massachusetts

   Individuality doesn't listen to what people say. She wears all of her favorite mismatching clothes and gives it her all on the dance floor. She always shares her own opinion, even if it disagrees with everyone else's in the room. Peculiarly beautiful and unique, she is like no other.

   Individuality is also loyal. She is loyal to her friends and to herself, knowing that Trust, Honesty, and Originality will always remain close to her heart. She is wise, and knows that by going too far, she might lose people's respect. Individuality will grow up to be liberal and free. For now, however, in her youth, she is sometimes shy. She will only answer the phone when Confidence calls.


Friendship

Friendship Nechama Muchnik, 14
Massachusetts

   Friendship has hundreds of picture frames hanging on her walls and letters filed in her desk, filled with memories and secrets holding the key to her heart. Candles surround her room giving off an aroma of comfort, and her mahogany-colored curtains drape over the window allowing a small fraction of lazy October sunshine to seep through. She sips hot chocolate and flips through pages and pages of photos in an album. She recalls going to lunch on that sunny day, to a little restaurant hidden away from the city bustle.

   She arrived late and had started to worry, but she was dining with Forgiveness so her tardiness was excused. They laughed and joked throughout their meal and took a couple of pictures to remember their day forever.

   "What an amazing day that was," Friendship thought to herself. But then again, isn't every day spent with a friend who is close to your heart an amazing day?


Confidence

Raissa Sorgho
Massachusetts

   She walks onto that field, knowing that they are down there. Her team has fallen apart, their spirits crushed, but she herself is stronger than ever. Like that proud beaming sun that rises each day, her head is up high and her heart pulses strongly. She lets her feet do all the work. She knows what she has to do, and she will do it no matter what. She respects her limits and takes pride in what she does, for she is strong and her faith is untouchable. Confidence is what she is, no less.


Hope

Akansha Ganju
Massachusetts

   Hope is strong. She has the willpower to fight for her dreams, and she won't let anything stand in the way of them. There are times when she is pushed to the ground, but Hope always ends up back on her feet. She has been let down many times, but has never given up.

   Hope has confidence in herself. She knows that she can take on anything that comes her way if she just stands tall, strong, and determined. Yet Hope is not overly confident. She knows her limits; for if she dreams for things too strongly, she will be carried away from the essence of reality. Hope is the moon that rises when the sun is about to set. She is like an angel, blessing those who are willing to look for her. She is the bright colors that lighten up the dull and fuming dark ones. Without stopping to think about herself, Hope lives for the happiness and success of the people around her.


Imagination

Bryana Schoen, 14
Massachusetts

   Imagination sits, writing. She writes scene after scene. She sees the images clearly, as if they were truly happening before her. The words come, and she scrawls them on the paper. She captures every detail. One by one, the characters of her tale come to life. They move across her paper, just as she describes them. She can talk to them, direct them, hear them, listen to them.

   The door to Imagination's room swings open and she jerks her head up. Reality stands in the doorway. She sighs, and tucks the paper away, watching her friends fade to black.


Inspiration

Inspiration Elizabeth Meiklejohn
Massachusetts

   Inspiration, like the world around her, seems to be constantly changing. One day, she takes on the appearance of an eight-year-old girl with blonde hair and braids and a reckless sense of adventure; the next day, she's a raven-haired grad student sipping espresso and writing poetry. When I meet her, on a cool Saturday in September just outside the T stop in Boston, she's wearing a T-shirt with the words ROCK IS DEAD-LONG LIVE PAPER AND SCISSORS with green and pink sneakers, giant dangling earrings, and a brightly patterned skirt that looks like it once belonged to her little cousin. Clutching an oversized sketchbook, she uses a charcoal pencil to draw everything-from the buildings to the street vendors-that she can see. And more than meets the eye, it appears, as I glance over her shoulder: scenes of homeless beggars, Sox fans, shoppers, office workers, and B.U. students against a stark backdrop of brick walls and storefronts. As I lean in for a closer look at the web of smoky, black charcoal lines, she suddenly turns around, taking me by surprise. Inspiration grins when she sees me, and closes her sketchbook, packing it away inside her bag. "Come on," she says, grabbing my hand like and eager child. "There's something I want to show you."

   We make our way through the crowded streets, and I follow her as she winds her way through a throng of jostling people, all in a hurry, into a back alley. When she points up at the tall, dark brick wall, it takes me a moment to recognize what she's pointing at. Then, as my eyes adjust to the light, my jaw drops. In front of me is a giant, ten-foot-tall graffiti mural, filled with amazing detail and rich color: a masterpiece of nearly a hundred images pieced together, from white-hot flames to the crown of a king. I take a few steps back, to admire the whole piece, and then it hits me. Stenciled out in enormous, curvy letters on the wall, outlined in thick, graceful black strokes of paint is her name: INSPIRATION.

   After I gape at her work of art for a couple of minutes, we pay a visit to a woman who paints ornate calligraphy signs outside of H&M and the man who has a cart selling roasted coconut, then head over to a local, non-Starbucks coffee shop to talk. As I sip my hot chocolate, she puts down her green tea frappe and tell me how her parents, Spontaneity and Originality, taught her to find beauty in everything, and how she took their lessons and transformed them into her own medium.

   Stirring whipped cream into her beverage with a straw, she smiles and says, "I took a stepladder and a huge bag full of paints and brushes every day to that brick wall for about two months, and it was all worth it because what I wanted was for other people to see that there was more to life than to wake up, take the T, work, and go home. I wanted people to be able to learn the same thing I learned, that there is always something out there that inspires you to do more; and when they see my name and my motto in huge letters on that wall-well, who knows what might happen?"



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