The Rise of Democracy, Acrylic | Keira Zhang, 12 (Los Altos, CA), Stone Soup January 2022 A note from Laura This week I want to draw your attention to the play featured in January’s issue, Spring Will Not Die. It was written by a group of Syrian refugees living in Turkey who are members of Karam House, one of our Refugee Project contributing organizations. The play presents a fictionalized account of young people’s pivotal role in the anti-government protests that ultimately fueled the uprisings known as the Arab Spring. When I read this play, I think about a sense of ownership, a sense of belonging, or even entitlement to a place and to people, without which it is nearly impossible to envision change. The play begs the questions: whose world is it to change? Whose job is it to affect that change? The answer, of course, is that it is each of ours. But this notion can only be fully realized with a strong sense of belonging to a community and the social ties that make such a sense of belonging possible. If you are looking for a creative exercise this weekend, I urge you to capture a sense of community wherever it emerges for you, and with whatever medium you choose. Find a place in or around your home or community that is busy with people—preferably a place that you visit often (maybe it’s your own kitchen, a park or café nearby, your school cafeteria) and sit in observation for about twenty minutes. Use all five senses to observe and record everything that is happening around you, either with words or with the visual art medium of your choice. Be descriptive and pay special attention to the people in the space and how they’re interacting with one another. Ask yourself: Who is present and who is absent? Are people differentiated from each other in any way? Does someone appear to be in charge of the space? Do there appear to be spoken or unspoken rules that dictate behavior in this space? In capturing a space and the people that occupy it through your writing or artwork, see if you can capture a sense of community. As always, if you’re happy with what you’ve written or created, we would love for you to share and submit it to us via Submittable! An Update from the Refugee Project I had the privilege of conducting a similar activity to the one suggested here with young writers and artists at Kakuma Refugee Camp in Kenya this past week. As the young people shared their texts and artwork describing scenes from their daily lives, many things were unfamiliar to me—a description of a confrontation with a lion after climbing down a mango tree and running into the river to escape a snake; hundreds of people lining a dirt road amidst throbbing music and rising dust during a miles-long bridal procession; a boy, alone in the middle of the road, his clothes and shoes tattered and worn from days of walking. But more striking than this were their vivid descriptions of the things that were familiar, the things that we can all relate to—people at the markets catching up and buying goods, “their white teeth chattering as monkeys;” students together after a long day, doing their washing, watering their trees, playing sports, relaxing, laughing, arguing, telling stories and singing together. In other words, their writing captured the universal experience of community as it emerges in daily life. I hope to share some of this writing in The Refugee Project portal of the website soon. To check out more writing and artwork by refugee youth, please visit the website. With best wishes, Congratulations to our most recent Flash Contest winners! Our January Flash Contest was based on Creativity Prompt #185 (provided by Molly Torinus, Stone Soup contributor), which challenged participants to write a story in which the protagonist explained COVID-19 to people in the distant past. What a way to begin the new year! Molly’s thoughtful prompt led to a surge of creativity; these stories took us on journeys to Ancient Egypt and Greece, invented time travel via carrier pigeon, and centered on ghostly interactions. We even received a play set during the end of the Black Death! While each and every story was a pleasure to read, we narrowed down our selections to the usual five winners and five honorable mentions. As always, thank you to all who submitted, and please submit again next month! 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 “What Are You Talking About?” by Audrey Billington, 10 (Hillsboro, IL) “Dear Jane” by Finoula Breen-Ryan, 10 (Bridgeport, CT) “The Warning: A Play” by Nova Macknik-Conde, 10 (Brooklyn, NY) “Old Answers” by Daniel Shorten, 10 (Mallow, ROI) “The Ghost of You” by Eliya Wee, 11 (Menlo Park, CA) Honorable Mentions “Covid-19 Explained to Ancient Egyptians” by Poorvi Girish, 8 (Fremont, CA) “Royally Messed Up” by Lui Lung, 12 (Danville, CA) “Dear People of the Past” by Zayda Parakh, 12 (Chattanooga, TN) “COVID-19.63” by Divya Srinivasan, 12 (Sammamish, WA) “COVID Time Travel” by Savarna Yang, 13 (Outram, NZ) From Stone Soup January 2022 Spring Will Not Die By a group of Syrian refugees in Reyhanli, Turkey with the support of Karam House—Afnan, 15; Ahmad, 16; Fatima, 18; Hayam, 16; Mohammed A., 16; Mohammed, 16; Mustafa, 16; Nour Al Huda, 16; Rasha, 16; and Sedra, 15 Welcome to all our guests. Revolutions, and especially the revolutions in the Arab lands today, aren’t simple events that can be conveyed in a play of less than half an hour. The reality is the blood of the people. It’s not easy to fully portray their pain and suffering. This play may not be one-hundred percent accurate or an exact mirror of reality, but it seeks to present the way in which the demonstrations the youth brought to the streets were driven by their passion for freedom. Thank you for
Newsletter
Saturday Newsletter: January 8, 2022
Magnolias at Midnight, Acrylic | Shaivi Moparthi, 11 (Sugarland, TX), published in Stone Soup January 2022 A note from Caleb Hello and happy second Saturday of 2022! In exactly two weeks’ time, we will be beginning our Winter 2022 session of Saturday classes. As was the case last session, our founder, William Rubel, will be teaching his writing workshop on Saturdays at 9:00 am Pacific, Conner Bassett will be teaching his writing workshop on Saturdays at 11:00 am Pacific, and Isidore Bethel will be teaching his introduction to short-form filmmaking class on Saturdays at 9:00 am Pacific. We are also excited to announce that Maya Mahony, an MFA student in fiction at the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, will be taking over Book Club in place of Laura Moran, who will be spending more time on the Stone Soup Refugee Project! Book Club will continue to take place the last Saturday of each month at 9:00 am Pacific. Both Avery DiBella’s stunning poem “The Moon” and Shaivi Moparthi’s breathtaking acrylic Magnolias at Midnight concern themselves with the moon’s magic. Every line in Avery’s poem begins with “The moon”; at the center of Shaivi’s painting is a bright, shining moon, and, at first glance, it would seem both works are concerned with singing its praises. But, there is a sense of foreboding at play, lurking beneath the surface. Take the fourth line of Avery’s poem: “The moon/ is too/ Bright/ That in the/ Gorgeous/ Night/ I dream about/ The moon.” I’ve emboldened the “too” because it is this word choice that changes the entire meaning of the poem. In essence, the moon’s brightness is so dominant that its beauty takes precedence over the “gorgeous night” and the speaker’s dreams. Without that “too,” the poem’s final line, “The moon/ Feels like/ My pillow/ When I myself/ Am/ Sound asleep,” might only denote how the moon “soothes” the speaker. Instead, the line takes on an eerie significance; in all its dominance, the moon has become so ubiquitous, so inescapable that its presence is felt in the inherently unfelt: the pillow beneath a sound sleeper. In Shaivi’s painting, the magnolias are beautiful; it is their pink color that accents the image. In a literal sense, they take up more space than the moon. The painting is even titled Magnolias at Midnight. And yet, the moon—this bright, shining, floating orb—steals the viewer’s attention. After looking away from the painting, the moon is what remains, seamlessly imprinted like Avery’s pillow beneath a sound sleeper. Shaivi’s painting also reminds me of a famous quote from Shakespeare’s Timon of Athens, which would go on to inspire Nabokov’s Pale Fire: “The moon’s an arrant thief, And her pale fire she snatches from the sun.” So, thinking about how Avery’s poem and Shaivi’s painting indirectly take issue with the moon’s dominance, this weekend I’d like you to think about something in your life that is beautiful, marvelous, breathtaking, but for whatever reason rubs you the wrong way. Then, write what appears to be an ode singing the praises of this object, but, perhaps with the help of just a few words, in reality highlights your sense of unease. As always, if you like what you’ve written or created, we would love for you to share and submit it to us via Submittable! Till next time, Avery DiBella, 10 Salem, NH From Stone Soup January 2022 The Moon By Avery DiBella, 10 (Salem, NH) The moon Shines as bright As the stars In the glimmering So glimmering Night sky. The moon Soothes Me In my sleep. The moon Is soaking With new Dreams That can Be discovered… Continue reading “The Moon” here… Stone Soup is published by Children’s Art Foundation-Stone Soup Inc., a 501(c)(3) educational nonprofit organization registered in the United States of America, EIN: 23-7317498. Stone Soup’s advisors: Abby Austin, Mike Axelrod, Annabelle Baird, Jem Burch, Evelyn Chen, Juliet Fraser, Zoe Hall, Montanna Harling, Alicia & Joe Havilland, Lara Katz, Rebecca Kilroy, Christine Leishman, Julie Minnis, Jessica Opolko, Tara Prakash, Denise Prata, Logan Roberts, Emily Tarco, Rebecca Ramos Velasquez, Susan Wilky.
Saturday Newsletter: January 1, 2022
Fire and Water, iPad Air 4 | Cathy Jiang, 11 (Portland, OR), published in the January 2022 issue of Stone Soup A note from Emma Happy New Year! I’m excited to start the year with the new January issue of Stone Soup and especially with the story I’m featuring in this newsletter—“Up on the Roof” by Harper Fortgang. “Up on the Roof” is a dystopian fantasy story set in a futuristic world in which there is no longer a “United” States—only a “Divided” States of America. On one side, the Purple People; on the other, the Green People; in the middle, a dangerous “Forbidden Strip” where people of both colors choose to mix. The allegory is all too apt for our current political times: a huge gulf—its own kind of forbidden strip—seems to separate the Left from the Right, the urban from the rural, the rich from the poor, the white from the Black (or indeed, all people of color). In her story, Harper’s protagonist, a Purple Person, meets someone who changes her mind about the Green People—and she commits to bringing this change of mind, and heart, first to her family, but hopefully to the world. I hope we can all bring this energy and optimism to our communities in 2022, working with each other to understand and close these divides however we can. This weekend, in your own writing, try to emulate Harper, and address a current political issue facing the world today through fantasy, science fiction, or other allegorical means. As always, I’d love to read what you produce. Lastly, I would like to thank everyone who donated to Stone Soup in 2021; every little bit counts, and we are so grateful for all of our supporters. Until next time, Emma Harper Fortgang, 13 San Francisco, CA From Stone Soup January 2022 Up on the Roof By Harper Fortgang, 13 (San Francisco, CA) “Who’s there?” I call into the empty blackness, a chill running down my spine. I watch as a black cat leaps past me and around a corner, disappearing into the darkness. I exhale a sigh of relief and try to convince myself, yet again, there is nothing to fear. I begin walking, squeezing the strap of my satchel filled with documents like a four-year-old clinging to her mother’s hand. I dart across the street, heading toward a haunted-looking building with decaying red trim. Delivering business documents in the Forbidden Strip is dangerous, especially for a thirteen-year-old Purple girl like me. My parents would have never let me come here, but we are struggling for money, so I became a business courier. The Forbidden Strip is part of the Divided States of America, which consists of three separate lands. I hail from the West, a land solely for the Purple People, and the Green People occupy the East. My parents tell me the West is far superior and our brilliant shade of lavender should remain separate from the East’s pale-green skin. We believe in individual achievement and preserving traditions while the East advocates a new direction, putting the government’s interests ahead of citizens’ needs. I am told that the people from the East look down on us and we have a long history of conflict, causing mistrust and fear. Between both lands lies the Forbidden Strip, where people from the West and East choose to live together. I have heard terrible rumors about the people who live here. However, important documents still need to be transferred from the West, even if we are separate territories. So, I must skulk through the neighborhoods of the Forbidden Strip delivering documents, afraid of every shadow I see. Continue reading “Up on the Roof” here… Stone Soup is published by Children’s Art Foundation-Stone Soup Inc., a 501(c)(3) educational nonprofit organization registered in the United States of America, EIN: 23-7317498. Stone Soup’s advisors: Abby Austin, Mike Axelrod, Annabelle Baird, Jem Burch, Evelyn Chen, Juliet Fraser, Zoe Hall, Montanna Harling, Alicia & Joe Havilland, Lara Katz, Rebecca Kilroy, Christine Leishman, Julie Minnis, Jessica Opolko, Tara Prakash, Denise Prata, Logan Roberts, Emily Tarco, Rebecca Ramos Velasquez, Susan Wilky.
