Monday, March 16, 2020

Man of Copper

by Maddie Berkson, Tenth Grade

Ah, Kentucky-the birthplace of finger-licking-good fried chicken...and President Abraham Lincoln. From his birth in the frontier to two poor parents, Lincoln had to be a strategic fighter in order to climb the social ladder and become the revered president that people know him as today. Like any good president should be, Lincoln was persistent. Lincoln had essentially no formal teachers. Lincoln had to teach himself from what he could gather from his surroundings much like other famous presidents that were mostly self-educated such as George Washington or Andrew Jackson.

Although Lincoln states in his handbill regarding infidelity that he is “not a member of any church,” his parents attended a church that was strongly opposed to slavery. Having grown up in this environment, Lincoln followed in the same line of thinking, which is evident throughout his career. Slavery is a common theme in Lincoln’s speeches. It is almost as if he cannot stop talking about the subject because its very existence irritates him to his core. With so much hatred towards the institution, he pushed for the addition of the 13th amendment to the Constitution, but that still wasn’t enough. Lincoln, as expressed in his “Last Public Address”, wanted the blacks to have the right of suffrage as well.  As he mentions in his “Columbus, Ohio Speech” they too are included in the Declaration of Independence and therefore are entitled to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, as well as living, laughing, and loving.

Despite some things that he said earlier in his presidency, it is clear that he wanted the blacks to be at least politically equal in due time. Others may accuse Lincoln of being a hypocrite and stupidly call him “Liar Lincoln '' as if they are still wearing pull-ups. However, Abe knew that if he broadcasted his true opinion during that day and age, he would have lost all of his necessary supporters to get rid of slavery in the first place. The man was assassinated four days after the first time he mentioned giving the blacks some political power for crying out loud!

Yes, lying is wrong, even if you aren’t a proclaimed Christian, and maybe, “honest Abe” isn’t the best nickname for him. But, is being strategic the same as being evil when you are determined to do/are doing good things? You wouldn’t call Superman evil when he disguises himself as Clark Kent to maintain public appearances but then saves civilians. Lincoln preserved and took down his metaphorical Lex Luthor to establish the 13th amendment in the Constitution, which laid a foundation for future civil rights activists such as Martin Luther King Jr.

Every president should be logical and strategic especially in times of war. They are given an extremely important position in the United States, and if they laid all of their cards flat on the table, our country would have fallen to shreds (like me whenever I lose my agenda or Kathryn finds a white hair on my head). Citizens of America can look to Lincoln and learn how to persevere for the better of the country and how to put other people’s needs before your own life. As the great poet/author, William Shakespeare, writes, “to do a great right do a little wrong.”P.S. This is a very exaggerated version of my actual opinion of Abraham Lincoln for the intended purpose of humor and conciseness. When conversing with me on a daily basis, it is recommended that you take most things I say with a gallon of salt. Also, for those unaware, the title of the paper is a play on words because Superman is also known as the man of steel.
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Friday, March 13, 2020

Lincoln Encomium

by Elijah Pointer, Grade 12

Abraham Lincoln, elected 16th president of the United States and disputably hailed as the Great Emancipator, may or may not have been truly worthy of that laudation he received, but that will be of little significance in this essay. Instead, I’m here to say that he sure could speak goodly.

As a child, Lincoln grew up dirt poor on the frontier. Both of his parents were illiterate, but that did not stop him from teaching himself to read. It is because of this that I believe his rhetorical abilities are so unique; he developed his own elevated style of speaking, combining gravity with wit. With nearly every speech, Lincoln captivates his audience. The educated are amazed at the sheer grandeur of his words, and even the not-so-educated, such as myself, are still mesmerized, yet perhaps unintentionally so, for I am often left staring at the same sentence for several seconds because I failed to understand it the first time.

Instead of channeling this talent into causing mischief and strife, Lincoln used his speaking abilities to slowly gain political prominence to the point where he became the president of the United States, where above all else, he sought to preserve the Union. Regardless of whether he had the right to enact certain things during the Civil War, — he basically started out as a farm boy and then became president, so cut him some slack — he tried to do what he thought was best and use his words for the sake of attaining peace. This is very much unlike the prophet Balaam, who attempted to use his gift of speech to cause discord and curse Israel so the king of Moab could conquer them in battle; it should be no surprise to hear that he was foiled in his maledictive machinations.

Like Lincoln, may we be wary of what we say and use our words to build others up and seek peace rather than furthering strife. “The words of the wicked lie in wait for blood, but the mouth of the upright delivers them. The wicked are overthrown and are no more, but the house of the righteous will stand.” Proverbs 12:6-7
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Tuesday, January 28, 2020

Gilded Age Paper

by Maddie Berkson, Tenth Grade

At last, The Civil War was over. A new century was on the rise and with it came many advancements in technology, new political movements, and crime. 1860-1896, roughly thirty years in American history, of course, is what many refer to as the Gilded Age. Historians share various views surrounding this time period; however, one important detail which no one can deny is the rapid growth in infrastructure. This time period brought forth the Transcontinental Railroad, electrical lighting, the telephone, etc. Due to the exceeding rate of innovation, capitalism in the States was booming, and a significant gap between the classes emerged. Low-income rates and brutal work times led to those in the lower class getting fed up with their state of living. Their solution to enacting change was to give the government more power in order to limit the control of the entrepreneurs thus slowly drawing the Gilded Age to a close.

The question at hand, which divides people’s outlook on the Gilded Age, is whether or not the increased amount of government influence was either good or bad for America. Some believe the intervention paved the way for more economic equality and better living conditions for the average American. In opposition to the growth of government power, others view the Gilded Age as a prime example of the possible prosperity which is achievable under fewer regulations. After analyzing both stances on the topic, I have arrived at the conclusion that both parties are wrong in a sense.

The Populist Party, a party formed during the Gilded Age and whose members are more modernly known as the progressives, promotes their actions by saying how their goal is to give power back to the people by taking influence from corporate heads and shifting the control to the government. But, how can the average American truly be powerful if the government holds all of the power and will try to suppress the full potential of those pursuing the American Dream? Some of the issues which the Populist party claim to solve are still present a century later except they present themselves differently. For example, select corporations, one being Google, still exist today and have more power than the robber barons could ever imagine. This does not mean, however, that I believe America should live under a complete libertarian-style government. The work-environment issues addressed by the Populist Party in the Gilded Age were definitely issues that called for some necessary changes. The method of acquiring specific changes is what I am unsure of.
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Thursday, January 23, 2020

Legend of the Treasury

by Kristi Yu, Tenth Grade

Are you the one? I've been waiting for him, you see. Allow me to explain myself. Although I am old and rusted, small and tarnished, I am idolized and sought after by many for the treasure I can reveal. While some might call me self-important or arrogant, I maintain that I simply know my worth. And while some might call me closed off or exclusive, I'll open up for you if you are willing to meet me. I, a prized possession, hold a magnificent trove, just waiting to be divulged. But I'm waiting for just the right person – the One, you might say. Because of my past, I'm scarred, worn, and mangled, but my purpose has always remained the same. Despite the baggage I bear, I carry with me the promise of great treasure. I am the final piece of a puzzle, fitting perfectly into the jigsaw of your joy and prosperity. Like a legend on a map, I am essential to your success.

I used to be the trusted partner of a plunderer, whom I thought to be the One. But alas, it as not to be. Although I never left his side, I am now utterly alone. I've laid dormant for countless years in this dark, dingy place, always hoping for the time when the One would find me. I have heard nothing but silence in this abandoned wreck for so long that I've even forgotten the chime of my own voice. I know the One, like myself, will evince immense intellect and ambition, and when I find him, I will gladly open up for him. Are you he?

Students were given an object which they had to describe and personify but could not reveal the object directly in their writing. Did you guess this mystery object?
Antique Key
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Wednesday, January 22, 2020

Count Your Blessings

by Adrianna Haidar, Ninth Grade
 
Under the bright and burning sun she sat, basking in its pleasant warmth, distracting herself with the feeling of safety and security. Distracting herself from the fact that she was cursed to stay half-embedded in the ground for all of eternity. No one ever noticed her; after all, she was quite a plain and simple thing to behold, with a gentle, unextraordinary beige coloring blending with light hues of gray. If she was honest with herself, she was filthy, encrusted with dirt and grimy particles of infinitesimal decaying organisms. And of course, she was stuck in the earth. Nothing, not even the beautiful glowing ball of fire in the sky, could make her forget that.

A loud thunderclap sounded overhead, interrupting her lamenting, and rain began pouring down from the heavens. The cool liquid seeped into the very ground she was stuck in, and the dirt around her softened its unrelenting grip on her. Little by little, the water swept away the dirt until—until . . . It took her awhile to understand what had just happened, and when she finally did, her heart completely stopped. She had no words to describe the pure bliss she experienced when she realized she was free. An eternity, she had thought before. The rain had saved her; she could—. As the rain abated, so did her joy when she finally discovered that she still could not move. Sorrow and despair washed over her. Why did God make her like this, some unmoving, insignificant object? All she wanted to do was travel and the world.

Suddenly, something wiggled underneath her. Disgust wormed through her. It was probably some bug wasting the time of its short life hiding underneath her when it could be out exploring. What a waste of life. Beside her, by a small tree, was a horde of ants. Motionless ants. Dead ants. The rain had killed them.

Below her, she could see the ant squirming out from under her, fighting to swim through the puddles of water the shower of rain had left behind and reach the horde of drowned ants. When it saw its dead companions, an almost silent cry of anguish emitted from it. She felt a wave of sympathy for the poor ant, its cry breaking her heart, and she concluded that maybe is was better she was what she was. Perhaps next time those insects, any insects, could take shelter under her. A new sense of hope and purpose swarmed her emotions. Yes, she was important. And she could never let herself forget that again.


Students were given an object which they had to describe and personify but could not reveal the object directly in their writing. Did you guess this mystery object?
A Rock 

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Tuesday, January 21, 2020

Personification of a Mystery Object

by Ally Barillas, Ninth Grade
My story begins under the earth. It was dark and cold but I was comfortable there. Dirt and stones surrounded me but it was peaceful there. For years I slept and slumbered there. It was always quiet and nothing ever happened. Until something unexpected happened. The ground above me trembled. It shook and broke. Sunlight burst through the cracks and two grimy hands plucked and pulled me from my place. I was lifted high above the ground, too high. I was scared, terrified, agitated. Everything was moving so fast. I looked out and took in the view. The green fields stretched to the sides of the mountains. The sky had wisps of clouds and was full of colorful hues.

I was tossed into a bag full of all my dirty friends. Our lumpy skin bumped and scratched against each other. We were cleaned then shipped off to who knows where. I was one of the lucky ones; I seemed to survive longer than the others. Every so often, someone would open the bag and and take a few of us out. However, whomever was picked would never come back. Knowing I was to die, I mentally and physically prepared myself for the future.

I was picked next. I was bashed, cooked and stabbed. Being placed on a plate, I was cut into shapes and I felt my white insides exposed. Butter washed through me; it burned and melted and seemed to glow in the candle light. Salt was sprinkled over me. It stung and blinded me. Streams of hot air twirled and danced in the air. Piece by piece I was eaten. I closed my eyes and died. I was brought to the spirit realm where I was reunited with my friends.

Students were given an object which they had to describe and personify but could not reveal the object directly in their writing. Did you guess this mystery object?
A Potato
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Saturday, November 16, 2019

Writing Practice:Satire

by Taya Taylor, Twelfth Grade

Ah, physical education—everyone's favorite school subject. The month of November is a particularly terrific time for PE because we get the wonderful opportunity to run in 48 degree temperatures. Everyone knows that exercise is good for you but exercising in the cold is especially excellent for calorie burning because of the minuscule motion of muscles that is known as 'shivering'. Some may complain about the cold, but cold is just a figment of their imagination. As we are told in our physical science textbooks, cold is really just a lack of heat, energy transferred due to temperature difference. You'd be shivering from heat, not cold, Silly. Some may argue that exposure to low temperatures can cause illness. If you clothe yourself properly in your Oak Hill Christian School PE Uniform Shirt ™ and Oak Hill Christian School PE Uniform Sweatpants ™, which are equipped with heating properties that will keep your body temperature stable at 37 degrees Celsius (98 degrees Fahrenheit), and wrap your entire body in hats, earmuffs, scarves, gloves, jackets, coats, socks, boots, and blankets—all labeled with the OHCS logo of course—then you'll be good to go! "Baby, it's cold outside." Only if you acknowledge it! 

If all else fails, you can simply hypnotize yourself so you believe it's 80 degrees outside instead of 48. Or grab your weird hypnotist neighbor, give him a wad of cash, since it's the only way you can get him to associate with humans, and you're all set. It may take a bit of effort, but, like we said before, PE is EVERYONE'S. FAVORITE. SUBJECT. So it'll all be worth it in the end. Happy running!
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The Cat Who Whacked Gnats- A Poem

A Poem by Christine Conaghan, Seventh Grade

There once was a cat
Who liked to whack gnats
So she whacked all the gnats away.
Then one day a gnat
Flew around the small cat
But the cat simply walked away.

The gnat filled with relief
And the cat laughed with disbelief
That the gnat really thought he could stay.
So the cat snuck back around
And made not a sound
Then whacked the gnat on his way.
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Sunday, November 10, 2019

A Memorable Experience

by Elijah Pointer, Grade 12

One of my most memorable experiences would be the night of and following day before my junior thesis presentation. That was unquestionably one of the most foundation-shaking and nerve-wracking experiences of my life.

My thesis itself was complete; I was just staying up to finish my PowerPoint presentation and memorize what I was going to say the next day. My eyes were struggling to stay open and my hands began to cramp, but I had to work fast because my iPad times out at midnight. My parents were already asleep, so I would not be able to ask for their help to unlock it by then. I was only about 75% done with the PowerPoint when, BOOP! My iPad finally blinked out.

Time froze as my head and heart immediately began racing with anxiety. There was absolutely nothing I could do at that point. Even if I managed to finish the PowerPoint tomorrow before I had my presentation, there was absolutely no way I could familiarize myself with it to account for my speech impediment and practice the correct intonation and speed for every word.

In a moment of sheer panic and desperation, I foolishly decided to pull off my first all-nighter on the night of the biggest presentation I had ever done until that point! I decided to at least try to finish it on a piece of paper to make copying it onto my iPad tomorrow morning a little easier. While that did eventually help me get the PowerPoint done later, it blinded me to the bigger picture.

For someone who could never successfully pull off an all-nighter even at a sleepover with friends, video games, and endless caffeine, I managed to stay awake fairly well. My fear for tomorrow - or rather today, just many hours away -  would keep a stabbing pain in my stomach and a tremoring in my chest which easily surpassed the potency of caffeine and fun. For the moment, however, I felt fine. My eyes were starting to get increasingly droopy, but thanks to my anxiety, I did not have to fight very hard to stay awake.

Hours of nervous working passed. Imagine being so tired that you were rendered incapable of forming a single coherent thought whatsoever. But instead of sleeping, which would normally follow such a lack of concentration late at night or early in the morning, your blood was racing, keeping you in a state of perpetual fuzziness and being unable to shake or sleep it off. That is what I began experiencing at roughly 3 a.m. My head was so light, I could have fallen out of my chair, knocked out in an instant if I was not petrified by my upcoming presentation. Instead, I was forced to sit up, slowly realizing that I would be unable to accomplish the one thing I stayed up to do.

At around 4 a.m., the effects became worse. My worries relentlessly chilled me, and despite the excessive shaking, I felt I could never stay warm. I considered trying to get at least 2-3 hours of sleep, but my ever-dwindling rationale reasoned that such an attempt would be rendered futile by my fear. I might as well just stay up and continue trying to “focus.” In a such a sleep-deprived state, I never questioned whether I was overlooking something more important than my own plans.

It was now 6:30 a.m., and the rest of my family began waking up. If a fuzzy mind combined with the possibility of a worsened stutter did not make the situation bad enough, a genuine stupidity started to settle in. I was so tired that I actually presumed my speech impediment would be improved because my now lethargic thinking would match my already sluggish tongue. “Everything turned out ok after all.” I began to think. “Hey, I’m not even that nervous anymore. The pain and shaking are finally gone. Maybe staying up late is the key to always being more relaxed.” If nearly collapsing from fatigue several times as I readied for school qualifies as “relaxed,” then I was golden.

The penultimate effect of my foolish decision took place the moment I left my chair and stood for the first time since I had determined to stay up all night. I had felt tired and sleepy until that point, but just then, I immediately received a feeling of thorough exhaustion which lasted throughout the rest of my day. “This is not good.” I began telling myself. My deliriousness responded: “It is ok. It will all help with your stuttering.” I believed him, and so I went about my day fighting back fatigue with caffeine. “It will all be over soon.”

I nearly fell asleep in class twice, I had to walk around, and I often talked with myself to stay up until 3 p.m., the time I had to give my thesis. I asked Mr. Sabin if I could skip PE that day to practice my speech. He kindly assented, and I walked into the gym, finished my PowerPoint, and began to practice the various intonations and speeds of my voice to help manage my stuttering. I was nailing it effortlessly. I could say nearly everything without the slightest hesitation. “Maybe my sleepiness will actually help me after all.” I thought I was all set. However, the slowly resurfacing pain in my stomach combined the sudden onset of constant quakes and jitters from the caffeine and anxiety alluded to a different outcome.

The time arrived. As I stoop up to present my speech, I hesitated for what could not have been more than a few seconds, but what felt like an eternity. Something was not right. No. Nothing was right! “What was I thinking?” I said as I suddenly snapped back to sanity, but I could not turn back now. I began speaking and the final effect of my folly took place... I stumbled on every single syllable. The sound pierced my ears. “How could I be stuttering? I was saying it just fine a moment ago. Why is this happening?”

When I stutter normally, it is on roughly every 4-6 words with 2-4 repeats of only the first syllable. All of the factors previously mentioned rose those numbers to the point where I eventually stuttered 3-5 times on basically every syllable of every word. When I practiced without much stuttering, my speech landed at around 8 minutes. That time was easy doubled and surpassed by the end of my actual presentation. The past 18-something hours that I spent working to make sure this didn’t happen were completely wasted. I put up with a complete lack of sleep, extreme fatigue in mind and body, and unimaginable anxiety to see a year’s worth of work fall apart as it left my tongue.

To those who do not have a speech impediment such as a stutter, you may think I am making big deal about nothing. I still got a great grade and everyone was very supportive of my efforts afterwards. But to me, delivering the thesis was not about getting a good grade; it was about confidently showing everyone that I put a lot of hard work into something I love.

How can one show he is confident in his work if he is constantly trembling - if his abdomen is involuntarily tensing up in a futile attempt to “help” dictate air flow through his lips? How can one show he is prepared and has worked hard if he must always stop and pause in his speech - if he has to change the words around in his head to reduce the staccato sound, inadvertently adding to it on occasion. How can one show he loves something if he is unable use expression - if now he is too busy focusing on the words just being able to come out rather than how they come out?

By these standards, I had failed myself in every way possible. The only thing preventing the venting of my frustration was the fact that everyone was so supportive. I do not doubt for a second that every person who spoke kindly to me had the best intentions. I knew they were trying to be encouraging. However, at the time, every compliment merely served as salt in my self-inflicted wound.

I told myself that it was over. There was nothing I could do anymore - all my effort, utterly wasted. I wrestled with internal frustration initially directed at myself for being unable to control my speech. Then I dared to angrily direct it at God and attribute to Him the fault of giving me my speech impediment in the first place. That was my final mistake. I simply could not learn the lesson on my own, so God decided He would teach me personally.

Within that 18 hour period, my mind was swept away in feelings of fear and filled with false assumptions leading to physical and spiritual anguish. I had based my success on how well I controlled something that never was and ultimately will forever be out of my hands. Through my self-reliance, I indirectly told God to His face “I do not need you. I’ll handle this on my own.” And so, He let me handle it - on my own.

I made poor choices, but still, His mercy never let me pay the full price. His grace was shown in my grade and through those who spoke with me afterwards, but I still felt like I failed. In the end, I did. Not because I fell short of my expectations, but because I set my will above His that night, and when it did not work out the way I wanted, I crawled back to Him with a pointed finger, arrogantly demanding the Righteous Judge for justice. I simplemindedly questioned His authority to give me such a thorn as stuttering. I hated it with every fiber of my being and would have given anything to speak normally, but it would never leave me. Why did I need such a constant and painful reminder that all my hard work to fight against it could be undone in an instant? I wanted an answer, so God kindly took that hand raised against Him and gently led it to my Bible - not in a crazy-magic-finger-moving way, but in a soft whisper to my heart that eventually led me to this passage:

“Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this [thorn], that it should leave me. But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.”‬ (2 Corinthians 12:8-9)

It was in that moment that I finally understood. While I sat at my desk drifting between consciousness and failing to accomplish my own plan, I was completely oblivious to God successful putting the pieces of His plan together to deliver the final fatal blow to my pride that I unknowingly needed. He gave me my speech impediment so that I would realize I was focusing on the wrong thing. I should not have been giving my thesis to satisfy my standards, I should have been giving it to show others how God gives strength to the weak - to show how even though I was terrified out of my mind, I went through with it to give the glory to God, not myself.

My stuttering was meant to draw me towards
Him - to make my stubborn heart realize that I cannot do anything on my own. I had been seeing my speech impediment as something I needed to overcome, but now I see it as something I need to embrace. I still get flustered and frustrated by my stuttering from time to time, but it constantly reminds me how much I need to rely on God and how much more, through one as inarticulate as I, His light can shine.
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Monday, October 21, 2019

Description Writing Practice

by Carey Hsu, Sixth Grade

An old piano sits solemnly in a cheery room full of children. Its keys, worn smooth by years of use, gleam in the dim, flickering lights. Its pedals, though rusted, still display its golden luster. How beautifully the piano plays as it stands tall though old and weathered. People come, and people go, each not seeing its worth. In a classroom full of children, no one ever plays the pearly white keys. No one ever steps on the golden pedals. No one ever seems to have a use for it. Nevertheless, the unused instrument sits in silence, never in despair only patience. The old piano sits, all alone, alone, alone, while the room fills with children, while the room empties out. But footsteps break the numbing silence. A child walks up and steps on the pedals and plays the pearly keys, showing it the love it has not felt for years.
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Comparison Essay: Victor Frankenstein as a Creator

by Kristi Yu, 10th Grade

In the novel Frankenstein, Victor Frankenstein creates a human-like monster.  This begs the question of how Victor’s creation differs from God's creation of man.  First, Victor created his monster out of pre-existing materials whereas God created all things, including man, “ex nihilo” - out of nothing.  Immediately after the monster awakens, Victor is horrified by what he has made, describing the creature as “detested” (chap. 10, pg. 125) and “abhorred” (chap. 10, pg. 123).  God, on the other hand, looks upon man and calls that particular creation “very good” (Gen. 1:31), setting humanity apart from the rest of creation which God deems “good.” Third, Victor’s disgust at his creation causes him to abandon the monster, leaving it to fend for itself without any protection or provision.  Chapter 11 details the monster’s struggle to obtain the basic necessities of life such as shelter, food, and companionship. In contrast, God provides and cares for Adam, giving him a place to live (Gen. 2:8), food to eat (Gen. 1:29, 2:9a, 16), a companion (Gen. 2:18), a purpose (Gen. 1:28), and even laws for his own safety (Gen. 2:17).  God’s love for His people is most poignantly displayed in Jesus’ sacrifice despite mankind’s blatant rejection of his Creator. (Romans 5:8) In Victor’s case, it was Victor who rejected his own creation.

Another point of comparison is that while Victor created a monster that was more powerful than himself, God created beings inferior to himself.  The eight-foot-tall monster acknowledges this in chapter 10: “Remember, thou hast made me more powerful than thyself; my height is superior to thine, my joints more supple.” (chap. 10, pg. 124)  God, however, being the creator of the universe, is fully transcendent over all of creation, including humans. Clearly, the measly might of man pales in comparison to the power of the omnipotent God.

Finally, an important distinction between Victor and God is the difference in their motives.  Victor acts out of selfish ambition, desiring the praise and worship of his creation. “A new species would bless me as its creator and source; many happy and excellent natures would owe their being to me.  No father could claim the gratitude of his child so completely as I should deserve theirs.” (chap. 5, pg. 65) While the Bible does not explicitly reveal God’s motives for creating humanity, John 17:26 says, “I [Jesus] have made you [God the Father] known to them [believers], and will continue to make you known in order that the love you have for me may be in them and that I myself may be in them.”  From this passage, it can be reasonably inferred that God chose to create humanity out of a desire to increase the reach of His love. While Victor acted out of pride, God created for the increase of His perfect love.

In conclusion, Victor used things already in existence to create a monster who was stronger than himself, so that he might indulge his selfish pride.  In stark contrast, God, the omnipotent Maker of all things, created man out of nothing. Though man is far inferior to His creator, God desires to know man and for man to know Him and experience His perfect love.  Whereas Victor so abhorred his creature that he even tried to destroy it, God so loved and cared for His people that he was even willing to die on their behalf.
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Should Youth Be Exposed to the Writings of Edgar Allan Poe?

by Maddie Berkson, 10th Grade
 
"So I’m mad you say? You should have seen how careful I was to put the body where no one could find it."
This quote from "The Tell-Tale Heart" may be seen as a cautious sign indicating to anyone with common sense that they should not allow their teenager to read the works of the famous and troubled writer, Edgar Allan Poe. However, it would be unfair to judge a person's whole career by a mere two sentences. With that in mind, there is a whole background behind Poe to read about, which once heard may cause you to feel sympathy towards him. He was orphaned at the young age of three because of the abandonment by his father and the death of his mother from tuberculosis. Poe suffered a hard and miserable life, but from all his struggles emerged the creation of American Gothic literature, one of the darkest writing styles there is.

The first story, or rather a poem, "The Raven," depicts a man haunted by the memory of his late beloved, Lenore. Opening up on a dark and dreary winter night, the main character continually hears a tapping at his door. Eventually, a raven greets him, and the man thinks out loud while conversing with the bird. He is unsettled by the Raven’s repetition of the word “nevermore” and attempts to remove the Raven from his premise. The poem concludes with the man feeling as if his soul has been ripped from his body and is floating on the floor. This sounds jarring, especially for the youth, and you may be confused as to why they should read it. Although Edgar Allan Poe’s belief was that morals should be separate from stories, there is something to be learned from everything. A reader can relate to the pain the main character is going through. A type of pain most parents attempt to shield their innocent children from, but one that needs to be addressed more. There is a right and a wrong way to cope with grief and the man being presented in an obvious unkind light points out to the reader how not to react to pain.

While "The Raven" is centered around a man on the verge of insanity due to rational emotional distress, the same cannot be stated about the protagonist in “The Tell-Tale Heart.” This new character is a full-on lunatic as proved by the beginning paragraph of the story, in which he, being severely paranoid, repeatedly tries to defend his mental state. He retells a story of being taunted by an old man’s supposed vulture’s eye. It drives him mad every time he makes eye contact with it. One time, as he was watching the old man sleep as he did every night, the senior awakened. Once the protagonist saw the vulture’s eye and heard the man’s beating heart growing louder, he asphyxiated the man with bed sheets he was lying under. Many lessons can be taken away from this peculiar story. One, in particular, is how guilt will haunt you as the man was by the growing sound of a clock.

Both stories share the central theme of death. Despite coming from opposite points of view surrounding the end of a person’s life, they share several details such as the symbolic birds of death, the stories being retold in the first person, a recurring sound, a death that torments the protagonist, the period of time during the day both stories take place, etc. Most of all, the two stories show the reader how not to face something that is bothering them. In "The Raven" the man tries to busy himself by reading, attempts to sleep away the pain, drinks, and talks to a bird about his problems. The Tell-Tale Heart's main character murders a man in order to deal with his problem.

All of this is to explain why you, yourself, or your children should read Edgar Allan Poe. In doing so, a new genre of writing will be unveiled by the author that is most famous for the style. He was remarkable with words and the ability to transport readers into his world. If he were not great at it, no one would find his works as enticing as they do. Instead of having to learn the hard way themselves, readers can learn from the downfalls and the mental patterns of the characters of Poe. They can relate or sympathize with the author’s life and can be taught a piece of history too since some of Poe’s writings are historical fiction such as, but not limited to, “The Pit and the Pendulum.” While the author or genre may not be for everyone, it is certain that the typical person or child should not be restricted from reading it.
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Friday, October 18, 2019

Descriptive Writing Practice

by Calvin Wang, Seventh Grade


Once upon a time, there was an apple. Out of all the apples, Mrs. Sabin chose this one for Mr. Sabin. That apple was Bob. Bob did not know where he was being taken. All he knew was that all the other apples never came back. Suddenly, Mr. Sabin violently shoved him into his lunchbox. He stayed in the lunchbox for quite a time until light filled the box. Mr. Sabin sat Bob on the piano where a bunch of loud kids where staring at him. Later, at 12:00 P.M., Mr. Sabin took Bob off the shelf and stared at him. Then, he opened his mouth and bit into Bob!!! Terror, fear, and pain swept through Bob as Mr. Sabin munched on him. It wasn't long that he felt pain because he had joined his fellow apple friends. In apple heaven, there were so many trees to rest on, so many places to eat, and lots of places to play. The only problem that stood in their way was that they could not move. The apples all sat there at the gates of apple heaven just wishing that they could move.
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Tuesday, March 12, 2019

Chapter 1: In which Strange Talk is Heard

by Caleb R. Thoburn, Grade 6

The man slowly walked through fog so dense and black that it seemed an evil, cold blanket. The night was quiet; not even the crickets sang their sweet lullaby. He walked so slowly, he seemed to threaten everything. The mean eyes he wore pierced all as they traveled through the gloomy night. Even the moon seemed to shun him. Coolly, he walked down the pitch black street and up to the porch of 381 Venus Street. His menacing steps echoed off the walls. Opening the door at the end of the hall, he strode in.

"Who are you? a quaking voice asked.
 "You know who I am, Geoffrey," the man replied. "And you know what I can do," he said as he pointed his cane at Geoffrey. The cane was smooth with a jet black stone at the end. Geoffrey said nothing but instead watched the end of the man's cane. "Where is it?" the man asked.
"I don't know," Geoffrey said.
"Where is it?" the man asked again. Geoffrey said nothing. The man's anger began to build. "Where is it?" the man repeated, a little fiercer this time.
"I never had it."
 Kicking the table, the man shouted furiously, "You lie!"
Geoffrey flinched as the table flew across the room. Geoffrey knew what happened next; the man raised the cane, and CRACK!

James woke with a start, shaking with fear. Many nights he woke sweating, trying to rid his memory of the many horrible murders all committed by the same sinister man with the dark cane, always raising it just before James awoke. He always seemed to feel as if he had some connection with the people who were killed.

Pushing his warm comforter aside, he walked from his bed to the bathroom, dragging his hand along the peeling, green and white striped wallpaper. Flicking the handle to open the door, he sang quietly to himself. He filled his cup and gulped it down in an instant. James tripped over some oddment that his younger sister had left out as he walked from the bathroom. He winced as his skinny torso made contact with a small red Lego car on the floor which he had "forgotten" to pick up. He began to get up, then stopped.

"He's too young," his mother said.
"It's now or never," his father replied.
Tip-toeing over to his parents' room, James made sure not to step on any of the many creaky floorboards.
"That's not what the prophet foretold," his mother said.
James crept closer, being careful not to lean upon the door which hung on one hinge.
"The old prophet said when James is expectantly listening . . . "

James's mother didn't finish her sentence, for James, who had been caught by surprise by his mother's words, fell onto the old red door. It gave way with a crash and a cloud of dust.

When the dust cleared, his father raised his eyes and said, "This settles it." James's mother began to cry.
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Saturday, March 02, 2019

Everyone's a Writer, Whether He Wants to Be or Not

Whether or not you want to be, you are a writer. Everyone is a writer. As a student, you write answers to questions and tests practically every day. And it's better to be good at something, even if you do it because you have to.

The Inklets is a group that meets after school. They read, they write, and they try to get better at writing. One thing that has been practiced in this small group is the use of literary devices, techniques used within writing to help make words more than just words on a page.

Here's one: personification (the attribution of human nature or character to animals, inanimate objects, or abstract notions, especially as a rhetorical figure). Definition from dictionary.com

Have a look at what some of the students have done with this literary device.


Chair, by Essy, 7th Grade

The sad chair was tired. He was tired of people sitting on him. He was tired of hearing all the students do their lessons. He was tired of always being squashed and spilled on. Sometimes he thought sadly to himself, "Why am I here?"


Philip's Story, by Caleb, 6th Grade

Plop . . . plop . . . plop. Philip awoke as the raindrops from the previous night's rain dripped lazily from the towering treetops above onto his twitching whiskers. Few things bothered him more than waking up before the sun, but still, he was up, so he got up and stretched his four paws. Skurrrumph. He stopped period. Slowly turning his head he sniffed into the dark night. Breathing a sigh of relief, he said, "It's only you."
"Wake up," his father replied.
"What?"
"Philip, wake up."

Slowly Peter awoke and realized it had been a dream. Muttering to himself about breakfast, he got up and shook the leaves from his fur. He looked around for breakfast, but then groaned; today was the day that the hired fox hunter took his vacation. Impatiently he waited as his father went hunting. Two minutes later his father arrived with about a dozen squabs. "What is this?" Philip asked.
"The best," said his father.
"Yuck," and pushing it away he left for his tree.


My iPad, by Adharrsh, 2nd Grade


One day my iPad was waiting for me on its hard lonely, bed. It wasn't actually fully charged. It was just at 89%. It waited for two days, but I didn't unplug it. It waited for 48 hours, but I didn't come. It felt lonely, smelled fish, saw the ceiling and saw me come towards it. I took it to my bedroom and it felt like being in a mansion. I used its power until it was at 0%. Then I got the charger and it felt sad. But I did something different. I charged it to the outlet next to my bed. Now it felt comfortable and warm.


Big Bear, Lucas, 2nd Grade

Big bear came out of the tub; the faucet dripped every second. Pwup, pwup, pwup. The bathtub was wet, but everything else was damp. There was a knock on the door. Knock, knock, knock. "Come in," bear said. It was Mousey. Bear came downstairs. "You ready to go to the airport?" asked Big Bear. "Yes," said Mousey. The airport brought good and bad memories. When someone left, it was sad. When someones came, it felt good. But this time is was Mousey leaving. When he left, it was a bit lonely. But they always had the heart of an angel towards each other.
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Thursday, March 17, 2016

What are they doing now?: Interview with William Kim (2015 Graduate)

Written by Zoe Lee

William Kim (3rd from right to left in the front row) at Johns Hopkins University


What are you currently doing?

W: 'Til last Friday, I had midterms every week so I was spending a lot of my time studying and doing my assignments. I am planning on finishing up my resume and applying for a research position during this spring break. Of course, I will be just chilling most of the spring break though.

Can you give us some information about what you're studying now?

W: I am majoring in biomedical engineering. Biomedical engineering is related to various areas of medical science, from instrumentation to imaging to cell tissue science. This is the reason our major is one of the few majors that have five concentrations you will have to choose later. For example, if your concentration is instrumentation (which I am thinking of), your classes in your junior and senior years will be focused on kinematics and mechanical engineering. If your concentration is imaging (which I do not know much about yet), I believe you will be studying computing and e&m (electricity and magnetism). There really is so many things you can do studying BME. However, we do not really delve into our field until sophomore year. So currently I am taking many intro classes, such as Introductory Expository Writing, General Physics, and Intro Computing for Biomedical Engineering (Python, MATLAB, and R).

Where do you plan to go after college?

W: I am planning on going into industry, although I am still thinking about applying for a veterinary med-school.

How's campus life? 

W: Doing assignments and taking exams stress me out sometimes, but I am balancing it out by having fun with my friends. We often go to Inner Harbor on Fridays and Saturdays and get some nice dinners.

How has graduating from/going to Oak Hill Christian School affected you? 

W: It helped me have a broader worldview. Hopkins is different from Oak Hill mainly in that Hopkins does not base its academic program on Christian ideas. Having studied with the Christian worldview helps me examine what I am learning here, not just accepting it as the only truth.

Do you have something to tell the international students who go to Oak Hill?

W: I know that many of the international students' goal is going to a well-respected university. But I would like to tell them that when you are choosing a college it is essential that you choose a college that suits you, meaning you really want to know about the university thoroughly before choosing one. Also, what you learn in Oak Hill may be different from what most of you learned in your country and probably from what you will learn in a university. However, studying in Oak Hill is a valuable experience. It will broaden your thinking and nurture your knowledge. I would like to emphasize to get most out of Oak Hill's English classes.

3/12/2015
Zoe Lee, zoel@oakhillk12.com
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Mokomandy - Modern. Korean. Cajun.

Written by Abigail Thoburn

I didn't know exactly what to expect from a restaurant that I could not, did not, even know how to pronounce. Nor one that is part of a shopping center. But I know what I got: absolutely wonderful food.

Mokomandy is a small but efficiently operated dining experience. Everything is done professionally and with a modern twist, but the staff is so real. The chef (one of only five employees) traveled the world and loves to cook food from all cultures. He has cookbooks lining the shelves by the kitchen. The kitchen itself is so small so you can watch the chef and his assistant as they work.

Mokomandy Interior 1


The staff are friendly, calm and easygoing. They treat each other like family, always ready to help clear each others' tables, or refill water. Though there aren't many workers, each one is interested in interacting with the guests. While washing our hands at the public sink (which is equipped with an automatic and massaging hand-washing machine), my brother and I noted an oil diffuser, a staple at our own house. The waitress spent time to show us the bird sounds it made, and she dug out the oil from the cabinet then chatted and smelled the different oils with us. The staff are just really pleasant to be around, and so genuine. They are also knowledgeable about the menu and the restaurant owner. Overall, they are quite helpful with recommendations and great people to be served by.

The food and menu are designed to be shared (honestly who would eat more than two gator croquettes anyway).  The seafood was extremely fresh; the shrimp etoufee was especially delicious. The jalapeno hush puppies were surprisingly flavorful and the gator croquettes were pretty tasty.  As it is ready, the food comes out from the kitchen in a steady stream, so it's fun and simple for all to grab a bite. Also lending to the sharing aspect, they don't accept reservations for more than six.  It's a calm, cozy atmosphere where everybody's included.

Cool Pepper Tuna Ssam 2


The food is meticulously prepared. I've never seen so much care put into each dish. Nothing was so-so, and everything was different; we weren't just served a table full of fried and buttery things. Everything had a nice purpose. They had three house-made hot sauces. I went for the hottest one. But it wasn't that same ole my-mouth's-on-fire-I'm-going-to-be-sick. It was flavorful, and I actually enjoyed it. Don't worry, it was hot, and the tingle stayed in my mouth for a bit, but it wasn't stupidly hot for the sake of being hot. It had a goal and that goal was flavor.

Not only do they have great appetizers and entrees, but the waitress offered dessert. When my surprised father asked, "You have dessert?" she responded, "Of course, we're a restaurant!" I took this to mean we have to serve dessert, so you can have a cookie or a brownie with or without ice cream. Boy, was I wrong. They served us creme brulee, mini pies (with amazing crusts), French press coffee, and a classy white candle for the birthday girl. I got chocolate, caramel, and chicory. They hand dipped my caramel in dark chocolate and sprinkled toasted candied nuts over it. that wasn't even the whole dish, just a detail. Again, they were meticulous.

Lavender creme brûlée 3


I am looking forward to a return visit to Mokomandy, to try their homemade biscuits and gravy, and come octopi season, their famed Pasta! And, the name is pronounced moe-koe-man-dee.  The Asian-fusion restaurant gets its name (and menu) from the owner's parents.  His father is Korean and his mother is Mandy, from Louisiana.  They have the perfect blend of modern Korean and spicy cajun cuisines.








1 Picture from SethDesignGroup. http://www.sethdesigngroup.com/projects/mokomandy-restaurant-branding/


2 Picture from Regina D. on Yelp. http://www.yelp.com/biz_photos/mokomandy-sterling?select=woH_T0LRQt-k-o0i4eClqQ


3 Picture from Jennifer N. on Yelp.http://www.yelp.com/biz_photos/mokomandy-sterling?select=lKf7r8eXnStlJna_HIuv1A
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Mediterranean Breeze Review

Written by Aileen Kong and Karis Kim

Mediterranean Breeze Exterior 1
On Friday, we decided to have a Quill meeting at “Mediterranean Breeze” located in Old Town Herndon! Abigail, Bobby, and Seth knew this restaurant had delicious gyros, so they recommended we try out the other special dishes like pizza in there. But the curious thing was that a Greek place sells pizza! According to their website, Mediterranean Breeze is not just Greek or Italian. They serve “Authentic Greek & Italian cuisine with a casual feel.” To be honest, Authentic Greek dishes are not that familiar for Koreans, so we expected and worried at first. After school, Mr. Thoburn gave us a ride so we could reach the restaurant safely.

First, we ordered The Breeze Combo and salad for our appetizer. Everything in the Breeze Combo was fried nicely, so the cheese sticks and chicken tenders had a nice crispy texture. The cheese sticks were not too stringy. And if you had the cheese sticks, you would surely get a warm feeling. The crab dip had a surprising amount of crab and was satisfying. Bobby said, “It soothes your tongue.” And Seth said, “It’s almost like a soup.” It even goes well with the cheese sticks. The wings were so-so. Although the chicken had nice taste, it was a bit dry. But the chicken tenders were pretty moist, flavorful, and crunchy.

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The Breeze Combo

After that the Greek salad came up to us!! “My favorite was…the salad,” so said Karis. The dressing on the salad was light and refreshing, but still held fresh flavour, All of the vegetables were fresh and crisp, the lettuce was obviously fresh cut, not out of a bag.

The next one was a Margherita pizza. After Bobby had a bite, he said “Tastes Mediterranean!” Basil was spread throughout. Tomatoes were fresh. Crust was good, but not amazing, it could be a bit more chewy. The cheeses in every dish such as a pizza, cheesesticks, salad; all of the cheese was amazing. Then later, nearing the end of our meal, Bobby stole a few last bites and noted, “It’s hard to tell whether the pizza’s better right when it comes out of the kitchen or when it’s sat there a while. They are both good, but different.”

The Fish and Chips, the day’s special, were not exceptional as they lacked flavour, but they weren’t overly buttery like most restaurants.

For desserts, we ordered a Cheesecake and Baklava. When we heard the word “Baklava”, we were not sure what it is. So the waiter gladly helped us choose portion sizes, as we were unfamiliar with what to expect. The Cheesecake was obviously New York Style, plain and simple. It was also delicious. It contained a bit of cinnamon, and wasn’t too sweet. The Baklava had some pecans instead of pistachios and it was a bit higher-end than the normal squares served at a Greek restaurant. The interest of this dessert was that it had lots of detail in this dessert: thin layers of phyllo, roasted pecans, and maybe even cloves. We highly recommend you to order this if you will visit here!
The overall service of this restaurant was fairly fine. The server didn’t interrogate us, but offered little switches like onion rings for fries. Extra dishes and straws showed that the host was managing the restaurant in a sanitary way. Before we even had to ask, the host provided a steak knife and helped cut our baklava so we could share it.


Greek Omelet 3

They had a bar with beautiful Mediterranean artwork in the next room. It was casual with a nice murmur. They played folksy pop music that people are familiar with but not annoyed by.

Overall, we were pleased with the freshness of the place and the cheeses throughout the dishes were astounding. If you are looking for a good Mediterranean restaurant, you could try some dishes at “Mediterranean Breeze.”





1 Picture from Miriam W. on Yelp. http://www.yelp.com/biz_photos/the-breeze-herndon-2?select=sByGGOqRMHxxexwkzPCJcA

2 Picture from Steve L. on Yelp. http://www.yelp.com/biz_photos/the-breeze-herndon-2?select=mbue7WtryBDt5iD5TIwNDA

3 Picture from Sarah S. on Yelp. http://www.yelp.com/biz_photos/the-breeze-herndon-2?select=h7fMGtuEKkxxb3VDglNWhw
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Thursday, November 19, 2015

National Gallery of Art

Written by Vu Tran

On Monday 11/15/2015, Oak Hill Christian School took a field trip to the National Gallery of Art. The trip was focused on Renaissance art. We took the metro train to Archives station, then walked to the gallery. When we arrived, we divided into two groups according to the two classes : art class and literature class; we each followed our own tour guide. I’m writing this as a student of the literature class.



Rembrandt's Lucretia

We sought, we hunted and we went after a lot of gems in the gallery. The most significant painting we saw was Alba Madonna by Raphael, painted in 1510. Our tour guide explained why it is a gem of the gallery : John the Baptist, Jesus and Mary were all looking at the cross, that’s first. Second, the pose of  Mary was unrealistic but she appeared to naturally cover both Jesus and John. Third, the painting was a circle, so we could focus more on the event happening in the picture. Finally, we couldn’t find any sharp lines sketched in the painting on any details such as the chin, the elbow… All of the features softly combined to create a masterpiece. We found another gem which the Omnibus class studied previously in the year: Rembrandt’s Lucretia. 




But the gems in the gallery were not only paintings, but also sculptures. Even though it wasn’t part of the trip, we managed to observe one sculpture : Little Dancer Aged Fourteen by Edgar Degas, made in 1878 and originally formed in wax. At this point, our tour guide had done her job but luckily there was a college art student over there who explained the statue to us: he said that this sculpture is famous because this is the only sculpture Degas ever exhibited publicly and it was through wax. Degas dressed her image with much detail from the hair, and the pose, to the cloth garments. And it was so real that people cast her in bronze after his death just in case the original statue became damaged. Through his sculpture, he portrayed a poor girl who danced for the Paris Opera, Marie van Goethem. Just in case you don’t know how big it is, here are some pictures we have (Asian for scale.)








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Shoe Box of Love

Shoe Box of Love C:\Users\SBW\AppData\Local\Microsoft\Windows\Temporary Internet Files\Content.IE5\EEY7YORV\christmas-decoration[1].png


Written by Karis Kim and Calvin Tran

Christmas is coming closer! But before Christmas day comes and goes, don’t you want to do something meaningful? Why don’t you send your love to adorable children in a shoe box? It will forever be a valuable memory. Oak Hill organized a competition in which they collected these boxes that will soon be sent to needy children all over the world. Many in Oak Hill joined in this wonderful event.
Oak Hill Student Council collected the gifts into shoe boxes to help children at orphan asylums. We are hoping they will have a blissful time this Christmas with our gifts. Our Student Council prepared the main collection boxes for each grade, and these are the principal students who helped and decorated these boxes: Aleon Niu, Cris Cheng, Cindy He, Hannah Tran, Karis Kim, Zoe Lee, Mata Bai, and Whitney Yang.
The Main Collection Boxes for Each Grade

4-5 Grade and 11 Grade Collection Boxes

Collection Boxes
Thank you to all who helped this project, by bringing boxes and gifts. And a big thank you to Miss Fluegge for helping manage this event and for organizing the packing party.

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On November 12  we had received 67 boxes from the students of Oak Hill Christian School. Our community hosted a contest to see which class brought in the most boxes from November 2nd to 13th. Although the 6-8 grade class appeared to be ahead from the beginning, K4 pulled ahead the last day, winning the competition. 


In the past, the school has donated about 40 boxes a year, but this year the total has reached 145 boxes! We hope this project makes the children and the students happy!

Oak Hill Christian School Shoeboxes of Love 2015
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