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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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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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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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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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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