Gordon F. Kells students are thriving as published authors. Earlier this year a group of eight students in grades 7 and 8 were selected as finalists for the Polar Expressions Publishing poetry competition. Now three young authors: Morgan Robertson (Gr. 8), Jessica Moffat (Gr. 8), and Rylee Himmelspeck (Gr. 7) have been published in Windscript, a Saskatchewan high school writing magazine.
Moffat wrote a short story titled “Monkey Bars,” while Robertson and Himmelspeck both submitted free verse poems. Robertson’s is titled, “Body Contact in Ball?” and Himmelspeck’s work is titled “i will.”
Robertson and Himmelspeck’s poems were both works created from an assignment given to them in English class, while Moffat’s short story was a piece she had written at home for herself.
“I want to be an author, so being published now, I can already say I am an author,” Moffat says proudly.
“I thought I’d just go for it, there’s nothing to lose,” Robertson said.
“I just thought I’d try it; it’s my first year writing poems,” Himmelspeck said. “My first poem didn’t make it [into the Polar Expressions competition], so I thought I’d try again.”
Their English teacher, Morgan Wasylyk, explained that she sought out a variety of competitions this school year for students to enter in order to give more meaning to their work: “The purpose was to give students the opportunity to be published. Each month I would let them know what competitions could be entered and it was their choice if they wanted to.”
“It’s nice to find purpose for their writing because I find we have so much we have to teach them and it’s nice to let them have the freedom to write what they want.”
The three students all agreed that some topics in English class aren’t as interesting to write about as others; but, that overall English is their favourite subject in school. It allows their creativity to flourish, which is something their teacher points out.
“They are exceptional writers,” Wasylyk stated. “Getting to read their work, it’s really very mature. For instance, Jessica’s short story “Monkey Bar,” is actually a metaphor for love.”
Interestingly the magazine is a for high school students to publish in, typically grades 10 through 12 students submit their works, so the accomplishment for the grade 7 and two grade 8 students is exceptional.
“We actually left out their grades when we submitted them, so that those choosing wouldn’t possibly dismiss them based on that since it is a high school publication,” Wasylyk said.
In addition to being published in the magazine, the trio were also asked to attend a public reading in Regina on Monday, May 22 – which had them up in front of a crowd to read their published work – for the kick off of Cathedral Village Arts Festival.
i will
By Rylee Himmelspeck
No time passes
As I sit and think
Of the bad things,
Wondering what happened
To that girl I could have saved.
What if it was Joey?
I’m scared.
I’m frightened.
I’m afraid.
I try to look on the bright side, but…
Never mind.
I feel so alone.
I feel like a coward.
But then I remember I’m not alone.
I remember the laughs with my family,
The ups and downs…
The love.
Gets me thinking,
I will get through this.
It will be hard.
But…
I will.
Body Contact in Ball?
By Morgan Robertson
I hop out of the car
My cleats hit the ground, dust flies up
I can’t wait to start the game!
It’s the third inning
I’m on second base
The ball is hit between first base and me
I run like a cheetah to first
She’s out!
Suddenly the world goes black.
I see myself from a bird’s-eye view
The ball is hit to me
I open my eyes
I’m on the ground
Black silhouettes around me
Shooting pain in my head
Put my hands to my head
All I feel is dirt, or is it hay?
I get up with the help of my teammates
Slowly walk to the dugout
Sit on the bench
Ice on my head
Gauze on my bloody elbow
My hair a rats’ nest
Caked in dirt
I still wish I was on the field.
The games are over
I hop into the cream Suburban
(after I’ve dusted off)
We drive along the smooth road.
I’m a sloth undercover.
They won’t let me sleep.
I can’t wait for bedtime.
Monkey Bars
By Aleatha (Jessica) Moffat
“And she knows,” I said. “She knows holding onto him is just like monkey bars. The longer she holds on, the worse her hands feel, the more cramped they get. Everyone is watching her, waiting for her to drop to the ground, or grab onto the next bar. Dangling, holding onto him with both hands: she can’t push herself forward, or back. She’s too attached.
“Each person has their own set of monkey bars and each goes at their own pace. He has moved ahead of her by so many new lovers, so many bars. Her face is twisted, because she knows she has to grab the next bar, and move on. The sun is shining on the metal beneath her fingers, a flame under her palms. Her hands are slipping. She’s going to drop.”
“Mommy? What happens if she drops?” Her wide blue eyes look up to me, filled with wonder and awe. For a split second I swear I see the stars.
“When she gets the strength to get back up, she will get to start on the next bar,” I whisper to her, wrapping an arm around her. I need to stay calm. It’s just a story.
“If she stays on the bar forever?” She leans in closer, her tiny hands on my thigh now.
“Her hands will ache with a constant pain, and she’ll never be able to reach for the next bar because they hurt.”
“And if she only grabs the next bar with one hand?”
“She won’t be able to fully move on.”
“What would that do to her?”
“Hurt her. If she can’t move with both hands she won’t be able to go on.”
“Is that you, mommy?” Her brown hair curls around her fingertip as she buries her face behind her hands, peeks between the cracks of her fingers at my hands. She stares at them as thought she can see the blisters at the base of my fingers. And the burn marks at my fingertips.
“Maybe. And it does hurt sweetie, but it’s love.”
She stands and wraps her arms around me, as she did the first gift he gave her before leaving us. “It doesn’t have to be, Mommy. I love you,” she whispers into my ear.
I want to yell at her to never say that, because any of us who have said it has died.
Now, she is infected. Now she begins on her set of monkey bars.
