“Untitled” (acrylic)By Halil (Syria), created with the support of the Inside-Outside Project and published in Stone Soup June 2021. Artist description of the piece (translated from Arabic): There is something hiding behind the painting. There is a ghost behind it. It is the ghost of someone. (Who?) (No answer to that.) It is not me (says the artist); it is another girl who is afraid. The ghost frightens people, but it does not hurt them. (What does the girl in the picture say?) The girl (in the picture) says the ghost came to her. (What does the girl say to you about the ghost?) She told me so we can help her. A note from Conner World Refugee Day and the Stone Soup Refugee Project June 20 is World Refugee Day, a day of observance to raise awareness about the plight of refugees and to demonstrate a commitment that the world’s forcibly displaced people are not left behind. According to the UN High Commissioner for Refugees, there are approximately 70 million people who have been forcibly displaced from their homes, 25.9 million of whom have official refugee status. Over half of the world’s refugee population is under eighteen years of age. So often, media portrays refugee children as the subject of a narrative. We at Stone Soup are committed to providing a platform for refugee children to use their voice to tell their own stories. The Stone Soup Refugee Project, in collaboration with seven organizations and refugee camps, has collected close to 200 pieces of creative work, including paintings, photography, poetry, and plays, from children living in refugee camps and host countries around the world. These children have fled their homes in Syria, Afghanistan, Burundi, Tanzania, and Thailand, among other places. They have been resettled in countries including Australia, the United States, Turkey, and Greece. Refugee camps represented in our submissions thus far include Za’atari Refugee Camp in Jordan; Umphiem Refugee Camp in Thailand; and Vasilika, Ristsona, and Moria Refugee Camps in Greece. We are excited to announce that these works are currently on display and will soon be free and publicly accessible in our newly created Refugee Project website, which you can explore here. A Little About Myself I received an MFA from the Iowa Writers’ Workshop and have just finished up my PhD at the University of California, Santa Cruz, and accepted a tenure-track professorship of creative writing at Albright College in Pennsylvania. I’ve been teaching some of the Stone Soup Writing Workshops since April, where I’ve had the pleasure to interact and write with some of you. This summer I will also be offering a class on playwriting via the Society of Young Inklings. Weekend Project This week, I want to showcase Rainer Pasca’s strange and beautiful poems—poems that call our attention to the processes and mechanisms of attention itself. Here I focus on Rainer’s poem “Rumi on the Table.” Like many great poems, “Rumi on the Table” tells the story of its own inception—the moment the poet aims to possess that which possesses the poet. It presents the act of poetic creation as its subject matter. The poem, therefore, teaches us how to see and think like poets. 1. I’m thinking of nothing. My head is empty like a garbage can. The poem reminds me of Wallace Stevens’s poem “The Snow Man,” which tells us to have “a mind of winter”—a blank mind—to see the world anew. Rainer takes up this injunction: “My head is an empty garbage can.” Of course, the key word is “empty”—free of metaphorical trash: assumptions, preconceptions, and prejudices. A mind of winter, thinking of nothing, is a poet’s mind: ready to see the world as it is. 2. Hey, look. Rumi is on the table. Rumi, why don’t we make a poem? When the poet’s mind is empty, seeing becomes an act of collaboration. To perceive is to perceive with. In these lines, the poet sees Rumi (a cat and a famous mystical poet) and asks to see as Rumi sees. 3. He’s purring! Awww, he is purring the poem. I love you, Rumi. You’re the king of gold. Rainer and Rumi make a poem together. The poem is a collaboration. In the final couplet, the poem becomes a celebration, an ode, a song, a love poem. This week, I suggest that you write collaboratively. Try to write a poem or story with someone or something else. Go out into the world and write with a “mind of winter,” “thinking of nothing.” What will you hear? What will you see? Until next time, Book Contest 2021 For information on submitting to the Stone Soup Book Contest 2021, please click here. To submit your manuscript, please visit our submittable site. Congratulations to our most recent Flash Contest winners! Our June Flash Contest was based on Creativity Prompt #156, provided by sagacious ’20—21 Intern Sage Millen, challenging participants to interview a grandparent/older friend about a memorable moment from their childhood and to write that memory as a first person story. This clever prompt afforded those who participated with the opportunity to get closer to the elderly than ever before, allowing them to literally inhabit the perspective of their interviewee. These submissions followed no similar narrative arc, though each and every one did provide a unique window into various cultures of the past. Submissions ranged from tales of a smoking car radiator stuffed with gum to a mishap with homemade firecrackers in Taiwan to a poetic vignette about a car crash, plus much, much more. Thank you to all who submitted this month; it was a pleasure to read your work. Congratulations to our winners and honorable mentions, listed below. You can read the winning entries for this contest (and previous ones) at the Stone Soup website. Winners “4 Blocks” by Katherine Bergsieker, 13, (Denver, CO) “Nature’s Lullaby” by Mariana Del Rio, 12, (Strongsville, OH) “Still Life in Which Everything is on Fire” by Arishka Jha, 12, (Redwood City, CA) “A Love that Lasts a Lifetime” by Pranjoli Sadhukha, 11, (Newark, OH) “Rocket Trouble”
Why I Chose to Participate in a COVID Vaccine Trial for Teens
Sofia Bernardo, 13 I was scared and confused: school was cancelled because of a virus and it felt like all my hard work was going down the drain. In March 2020, I was in science class at school working with my small group on a climate change friendly building design for our school’s open house, which was scheduled to take place the following week. Just when our project was about ready to show at the open house, we had to suddenly go home and shelter in place. We never got to finish that project. It was a really hard day. I want vaccines for children to be tested and approved so we can get back to school and see friends and family. It’s been clear that the best memories don’t happen via zoom or apart, they happen when we are together. It makes us realize we take our schooling, friends and our family’s presence for granted. Honestly, I’m not a big fan of this pandemic. Although I like spending time by myself sometimes, I miss my friends. The presence of another human body near me. I miss sleepovers, playdates, parties, celebrating the birth of a new cousin and weddings. I hope for a day when we can all go back to school, and I can actually meet my teachers in person, walk to my classrooms and sit down and be able to work on a project with a partner and feel safe. I’m proud of those who’ve done their part in the Pandemic, including social distancing, wearing masks, staying home if they feel sick and being really flexible in a tough year. I am grateful for the essential workers and first responders. My cousin worked as an ICU nurse with Covid patients early in the pandemic. She and her friends are real heroes. In a way participating in the clinical trial is identical to a Random Act of Kindness. Because in a Random Acts of Kindness the small acts alone aren’t a big deal, but when you share them and inspire others to join you they can make a big impact on the world. This is similar to being a clinical trial participant, because in the trials they need over 3,000 kids. You can put a label on which age group data is more important, but at the end of the day, it’s each individual person in the study that is valuable, because they actually make a difference contributing to our world, whether they are 11 or 40. I want to do my part to help end the Pandemic by participating in a clinical trial for a covid vaccine – that’s my Random Act of Kindness. My Experience in the Clinic Ironically, in our science class we are learning about the science behind the mRNA vaccines. I am very fortunate to know the science of what is being injected into my body. And it’s very fascinating to me how the cells react, specifically to the vaccine. The mRNA protein directs cells to produce the virus spike protein, provoking an immune response to that unknown protein. The body has to get used to this spike protein in order to know what to do if it encounters it in the future. My parents found out about the trial and asked me if I wanted to participate. They gave me the choice, and I said, yes! The first visit was long – it was over four hours. They asked me lots of questions, took blood samples and ran other medical tests. After the first shot my arm got sore after the first three hours and it swelled up about 2cm. My arm felt like it was dead by night time, but it wasn’t so painful that I needed Tylenol. There were surveys I had to fill out every day for data collection —the injection site, temperature and general health. After a few days my arm felt perfectly normal and I could exercise and have fun again. The second visit was exciting and scary. Scary because I heard that people got more side effects after the second shot. I answered lots of questions, underwent a few tests and received another shot. I had the same very sore arm and a low grade 99.5 fever later that night. I took two naps the next day. I felt back to normal after just a few days and could move my arm around. I’m looking forward to spending time with my grandma and seeing my friends. Honestly, I’m glad that I did it. It feels good to contribute to science and to humanity. All the kids in this study did one big random act of kindness—taking a personal risk to help others. I’m glad to be a part of ending the pandemic. There are about one billion adolescents on the planet according to UNICEF. I hope by participating in the trial that kids like me will be able to see their grandparents and friends again and go to school safely.
Writing Workshop #44: Dystopian Fiction
An update from our forty-fourth Writing Workshop A summary of the workshop held on Saturday June 12, plus some of the output published below This week, since William is on vacation, we had two special guests leading the workshop. Maddie, who is a part of William’s workshop, and Liam, who now attends Conner’s workshop, led the workshop on the topic of dystopian stories. The two young writers delved into a thorough definition of Dystopian Fiction, plus several recent popular examples of the genre. Many people reading contemporary fiction are likely familiar with this genre, as high-profile series like The Hunger Games and Divergent are bestselling examples. Maddie and Liam went through several examples, and challenged the writers present at this workshop to create their own story in the same vein. The Challenge: Write a story set in a dystopian world or modify an existing story of yours to include dystopian elements. The Participants: Sage, Chelsea, Lena A, Madeline, Helen, Margaret, Peri, Julia, Pranjoli, Nami, Angela, Jonathan, Audrey, Gia, Jaya, Peter, Sierra, Arishka, Grace, Tilly, Mahika, Mia, Iago, Charlotte, Rachael, Lina. Peri Gordon, 11Sherman Oaks, CA Picture Day Peri Gordon, 11 “I don’t think you understand,” sighed the principal. “If a child misses Picture Day, there will be no makeup date. And Picture Day is not optional.” The principal shook his head at the parent’s ignorance, although he knew that there was no way that she could be better informed. He himself did not know exactly why Picture Day was so essential, but he knew that it must happen every year and could only happen on one day of the year. The mother protested. “If I drive Robbie to Picture Day, then neither of us will be home to take care of his little sister, and the daycare is not open on Picture Day, as you know.” “That’s alright, the little girl can come along, too,” the principal said. “The younger a child gets their first picture taken, the better.” His own words intrigued and somewhat confused him, but that was alright; he was not in the government, so he had no right to know why these things were, just to know these things. The principal could tell that the little girl, lingering behind her mother’s back with the slightly older boy, was not yet in school. But her picture would be taken nevertheless. *** On Picture Day, the brother and sister, Robbie and Sophie, after some protest, put on their finest clothing for their pictures and headed off to the Picture Dome, a black building with a curved roof that let in no sunlight, which would interfere with the process. Instead, the cool building was awash with electric light. Sophie, new to Picture Day, bit her fingernails, ruining the fancy, polished look they had been forced to take on for this day. The girl declared, “I’m nervous.” Her mother scolded her, pulling Sophie’s nails out of her mouth and hissing, “There is no time for nervousness.” But the woman herself was wondering why Sophie’s picture should be taken already. Not many people knew the answer to the woman’s question. But the president, huddled in the corner with his fellow government members, knew everything. He watched as a fellow leader of his, slightly less important but still in the know, used the machine everyone thought was a camera to scan each child’s mind. Of course, it served as a camera, too, so that people would see the pictures and suspect nothing. But the school’s yearbook was a frivolous thing, a distraction. The president himself had not invented mind scanning, but he had figured out why and how it must be used. Each child’s intellectual ability affected how they must be taught to interact with others and how others must be taught to interact with them. It was all carefully planned by top scientists and politicians, so that no one would know of the well-off government members’ secret. As long as the citizens were not in charge, the president would feel pleasure. As long as the people did not control a thing, the government would control everything. And when, in a few weeks, they performed the experiment the government had planned for centuries—the one involving cloning and killing off the original, cloning the clone and killing off the original, so that scientists could make huge advancements—no one would even be aware until it happened. It was all for the best. Lina Kim, 11Weston, FL Memories in Ruins Lina Kim, 11 I pushed the charred curtain out of the way as I stepped outside. The ground was blackened with the ash of everything that was destroyed. Bones littered the ground. Smoke filled the air. My parents and I were one of the only few lucky families. We had somehow survived. I scanned the barren wasteland for a sign. Maybe there was someone alive out there, stumbling through the rubble for shelter. I went about my usual route. I went sixty steps forward, then went to the right thirty steps. I turned right again and went sixty steps. I repeated that until I got back to where I started. I kept searching along the way. I never allowed myself to go even an inch more than sixty steps away from my home. It was the same thing every day. As mom and dad scoured the earth for food, I looked for people to help. It had only been two weeks since the attack, but I had already fallen into a routine. That took up the entire morning. After that, I would go inside the small hut. It had been hastily rebuilt, but was only a very small fraction of the house it once was. It only had two rooms. I would help my parents serve lunch and we would eat. Halfway through the meal, my parents would go to find more food and search for people twice as far away from the house as I would in the morning. I was supposed to
