Fall 2007 journal of the Honors Program at the University of North Dakota. The issue includes stories, poems, essays and art by undergraduate students.https://commons.und.edu/und-books/1040/thumbnail.jp

Berlin, Joseph

Dickason, Andrea

Fitzgerald, John

Hill, Emily

Knutson, Melanie

Leidholm, Nathan

Mongeon, Jessica

Skroch, Jessica

Tezel, Sara

Unruh, Amanda

English

UND Scholarly Commons (University of North Dakota)

University of North DakotaUND Scholarly CommonsUND Publications Elwyn B. Robinson Department of SpecialCollectionsFall 2007The Forum: Fall 2007Jessica SkrochUniversity of North DakotaAmanda UnruhUniversity of North DakotaEmily HillUniversity of North DakotaJoseph BerlinUniversity of North DakotaMelanie KnutsonUniversity of North DakotaSee next page for additional authorsFollow this and additional works at: https://commons.und.edu/und-booksThis Book is brought to you for free and open access by the Elwyn B. Robinson Department of Special Collections at UND Scholarly Commons. It hasbeen accepted for inclusion in UND Publications by an authorized administrator of UND Scholarly Commons. For more information, please contactzeineb.yousif@library.und.edu.Recommended CitationSkroch, Jessica; Unruh, Amanda; Hill, Emily; Berlin, Joseph; Knutson, Melanie; Fitzgerald, John; Tezel, Sara; Leidholm, Nathan;Dickason, Andrea; and Mongeon, Jessica, "The Forum: Fall 2007" (2007). UND Publications. 41.https://commons.und.edu/und-books/41AuthorsJessica Skroch, Amanda Unruh, Emily Hill, Joseph Berlin, Melanie Knutson, John Fitzgerald, Sara Tezel,Nathan Leidholm, Andrea Dickason, and Jessica MongeonThis book is available at UND Scholarly Commons: https://commons.und.edu/und-books/41Volume 38, Issue 1 Fall 2007 • . stories . po e rn s . es s a!) s . a rt . Journal of the Honors f rograrn Universit!J of North Dakota • • • • 1 Editor Holly Johnson Editorial Board Andrew Rilometo Jessica Skroch Sara Tezel Amanda Unruh Advisor Kay Powell Editorial Policy The opinions and ideas expressed in this publication do not necessarily repre-sent those of the University of North Dakota, the Honors Program, or its edi-tors. It is the policy of this publication that anyone wishing to have something published must have his or her name attached to the submission, although names wil l be withheld upon request. The Board of Student Publications is the publisher and primary fund contribu-tor to the Forum. BOSP is a division of Student Government. BOSP Chairperson: Mike Nowacki Phone: michael.nowacki@und.nodak.edu 2 Contents Jessica Skroch Arched Alha,nbra Reflections Amanda Unruh Present Past Emily Hill The Jewelry Box Jessica Skroch Damasquinas Joseph Berlin Avenue Melanie Knutson Chorus of My Heart John Fitzgerald Reaction to Vonnegut 's Slaughter-House-Five Joseph Berlin Layers Sara Tezel Untitled Nathan Leidholm Dear John .Andrea Dickason Say Goodbye Emily Hill He Walks Jessica Mongeon Blazing Spirit • Cover 4 5 10 11 12 14 15 16 18 19 20 21 3 • 4 Present Past Amanda Unruh Acrylic on Canvas • Emily Hill , The Jewelry Box Diamonds are not necessarily my best friend, despite the fact that I would like this type of glimmering gem from the tall, dark and handsome man of my dreams someday. No, I like to adorn my body with different types of jewels and beads that belong to the families of the gaudy and clas-sic. Some items scream distasteful and not trendy in any way, but others are truly elegant gems. Bracelets whose beads are large enough to weigh my hand down to the ground; necklaces that have every color under the sun in them; rings, that if I ever got into a fist fight, could cause a deadly knuckle sandwich. I AM AN ARTISTE. Not in the conventional sense, but out-wardly I express myself through my vast collection of big, beautiful and colorful baubles. I inherited most of my Great-Grandma Helen ·s gaudy costume jewelry. Whj)e some may wish they received her emeralds, I feel I received the jewelry that illustrated Helen's personality. In thls way, I can help Great-Grandma Helen continue to show off her glam on earth. The best way I have displayed Helen's famously mod style was when l wore her rhinestone necklace to prom. I also added flair to my hair when Mama took her large rhinestone lapel pins and attached them to hair combs. She posi-tioned these combs on my head to form an incredibly fancy tiara among my cascading curls. As I Jooked into the mirror, I saw this beautiful girl inside, who for one night resembled the lovely Audrey Hepburn in the ball scene from My Fair Lady. My Great-Grandmother assisted me in getting ready that night. Helen walked down grand march with me, and we all know she always enjoyed a party. 5 6 Grandma Bea just passed away a couple of months ago. Her jew-elry was simpler and calmer than Helen's, but I still adore the pieces I in-herited. Grandma Bea was a no-muss, no-fuss kind of woman; however, on special occasions, such as parties or family reunions, she would pull out some jewelry to add pizzazz to her outfit. My favorite item I received from her was a tiny turtle pin that has a beautiful, glassy white stone for its shell. The turtle is an animal that has fascinated me since childhood, so I was thrilled to see that Grandma had this in her jewelry box. Mama told me this piece was quite valuable because not only did it belong to Grandma Bea, but its original owner was Great-Grandma Anna. I never met my Great-Grandma Anna, and this small turtle opal pin made me wonder about this woman's life. Anna's life remains a mystery for most of my family members, so in a way this pin serves as a clue into her past. As I wear this pin, a connection remains between my Grandma Bea and me. Knowing that this same pin was latched on to one of her sweaters just a year before com-forts me and keeps her memory alive. Mama's best friend Barb fed my love for music. She was an inter-esting woman who went back and forth from going to a synagogue during certain parts of her life to attending a Roman Catholic Cathedral. Although religiously confused her entire life, her faith in God and the goodwill of human nature was unending. Whether Barb was celebrating Christmas or Hanukah, she helped me pursue my Catholic faith even more by educating me about special saints of the Church. The one she felt most fit me was Saint Cecelia- the patron saint of music. She· gave me Saint Cecelia med-als for gifts. When she gave me my flute and piccolo as gifts, there was a Saint Cecelia medal sewn in each case for good luck. I also received med-als on chains to wear around my neck so Cecelia could be with me during my piano recitals, orchestra and choir concerts, cantoring at church, or even at pep band during football games. Barb's plan was to up-grade the quality of the medals for each birthday: silver, pewter, gold, and white gold. Barb Jjved only long enough to give me pewter. The pewter medal is my favorite one out of all the medals because the beautiful face of Saint Cecelia playing the harp is two-dimensional. Even as an adult, J try to wear these medals around my neck for every perfonnance I am in because the spirit of Saint Cecelia and the memory of Barb grant me luck with each note played. When I wear my large, plastic, bubble-gum-pink ring, I can tell people of my memories of the national speech tournament in Salt Lake City, and bow I shot down all the bottles at the National Forensic League carnival to win the ring. After a long day of competing against the top young speakers of the United States, I thought the perfect relaxation rem-edy would be a calming round of shooting down wooden bottles. The old and worn carnie told me how to shoot my weapon of choice. As I steadied my arm and took a deep breath, I aimed and fired. And BANG! To my sur-prise, I was the ultimate guru at shooting wooden bottles. Out of al l the certificates, medals, and plaques that I received in the process of this tour-nament, this large, pink plastic ring that I won at that booth brings back more fun memories than any trophy could give me. This achievement was almost as exciting as actually qualifying for the national tournament, for I, yes I, Miss Un-Athletic of America, out-shot many of the boys at the carni-val who had been hunting for years. My pink and black polka-dot metal bracelet has a fond memory also. I do not remember where I got it, but I do remember an amusing class . with a friend my freshman year of college. One day in our Politics and Propaganda class, my slightly distracted friend became fascinated by my metal bracelet instead of our, I am sure, intriguing discussion of Silent Spring and the hazardous use of insecticide. He took it off my arm thinking it was one of those super-trendy '90s snap bracelets- little did he know it was metal. Once he discovered this, he made the connection that his belt 7 buckle was magnetic. The scientific discovery of magnetism won our inter-est over the daunting consequences of insecticide on the livelihood of our environment. This started the game of seeing how far of a distance the bracelet could be and still be attracted to the magnetic force of his belt. Our teacher heard the monstrous clunks behind her as she was writing on the board. Yet when she looked back she was not upset. I do not know what she was in more in awe of: my metal bracelet, his magnetic belt, or our juvenile game. Moral of the story: weird accessories bring people together. My favorite piece of jewelry however, is not gaudy, but quite genuinely beautiful, because it is from Daddy. Two years ago, I had just gone through a terrible break up a high school relationship that had lasted three years. My heart was completely shattered. Of course the day that every recently single person dreads came around: Valentine's Day. In preparation for this' lovers' holiday Daddy had bought his own sweetheart, Mama, a pair of diamond and sapphire earrings. She had been asking for a pair of sapphire earrings for years because it is her birthstone. He kept tell -ing her that sapphires just were not as pretty as diamonds, but be compro-mised that year and decided on the diamond and sapphire ear-rings. Knowing that my heart was in shambles, he asked Mama if her feel-ings would be hurt if he gave the earrings to me instead. He wanted to make sure I knew that he was one man who I could always trust and who would love me forever. She did not mind at all. Every time I wear these earrings, they represent love and trust I have with my parents . • 8 As like anyone who has a collection, when I look into my jewelry box I do not see a dollar value. According to an Internet antique jewelry site, Great-Grandma Helen's large antique rhinestone pins, six of them to-tal, are appraised at $165.00 each. This means my head at the high school prom was valued at $990.00. My pink bubble gum plastic ring on eBay would go for a grand total of $0.83. Monetary value cannot outweigh the • value of the story each piece of jewelry tells. By wearing each piece, I like to think that I am keeping the past alive in the present. In the future, I hope that my children and grandchildren will open my jewelry box and hear the whispers of the past. More importantly, 1 hope they take these pieces and string their own stories and experiences to each strand. 9 10 Damasquinas Jessica Skroch Digital Photograph • Avenue Joseph Berlin Digital Photograph 11 • 12 Melanie Knutson The Chorus of My Heart Where is the person I said I would be? I ' ll tell you where she is ... She's a drink away from drowning Or a tear away from a million more to go She's hiding in the depths of her heart A place ao one e lse has been but him Trapping herself in a dream Only she' ll never wake up .. . Not at this rate I wanted to be the kind of person you'd want back I never saw the benefits of what it would bring The light was too dim To make it worth my while I should have forgotten everything you said Because it's me I have to-pick up You should be of no concern • • • I t \ Still I cling to the possibilities in all the wrong ways Where is the person I said I would be? I'll tell you where she isn't ... She isn't a drink away from quitting Or a tear away from the last one She isn' t bathing in the effects of happiness Or breathing deep in a new world without him She isn't sleeping with a new dream Or expecting to wake up without the yearning for his love She isn' t even close ... Not at this rate 13 14 John Fitzgerald Reaction to Vonnegut's Slaughter-House-Five The Dregs of Dresden do declare That bombs fall screaming through the air And those Royal and United angels fly So thunderously through the blackened sky As to shake the ground those bombs did spit And catalyze the chaotic wit Of writers, artists and the like Who speak truths of war and Reich . • • • ' ' ' ' ' Layers Joseph Berlin Digitally Enhanced 15 - -- -Sara Tezel Untitled • i wish i could tell you the story. the story of my past. and my pain. • but emotion bas no one word. how does one explain: the heartache of a trust betrayed. the knife felt as a friend lies. the fear of his hand . • no. i cannot tell you this story. for you enjoy fairytales. and happily ever afters. families of the fifties. the smile painted on my face. keep looking at my face. do not look in my eyes. they cry out for help. don't listen to my words. • they are rough from my battle. the one against my body. do not look in my eyes. because i cannot meet yours. look at my face. look at the beautiful mask i wear. 16 • • i am happy. i am happy . i am happy. take m.y hand and we'll walk . we'll Leave behind my past. leave behind my pain. and escape the right way. this time i will not force freedom. like i tried with that bottle. the orange one. with a clean, white lid. and the little blue pills that promised. no. take my hand. we'll forget the hate i felt. for those who hurt me. for those who betrayed me. but mostly, for myself. i'U wear my mask. and you wear your warm coat. maybe when we're far enough away. i'll take off my mask. and you'll take off your coat. maybe when we're far enough away. maybe. 17 Na than Leidholm Dear John Dear John, What's goin' on? Still goin' strong? I heard about your trouble with the law and how some things went wrong. I don't need to hear what hap-pened, only that you'll still be moving on. And as long as you don ' t hang your head I know you' 11 fmd where you belong. People talk, and I know sometimes things will be hard. But reputation isn ' t everything, no matter how badly it might be marred. Stay away from the snooze button, it's a deadly trap. I know one too many hopeful who never woke up because of that. And don't forget, tears are not a sign of weakness. Even the strongest among us need something to wipe away their regrets. No matter how hard you try or how far you want to fall, nothing can stop the sun from risi ng or the change in season at all. Tomorrow will come and today will be deep in the past. Your will can last and all these hurdles will soon be surpassed. Nothing' s ruined, and all wounds can be healed. Never give up the fight and eventually most attacks will have to be repealed. And stop thinking about your life as a terrible waste. Are you really willing to give up everything just to save face? And yes, I also know how things can seem unmanageable. Sometimes you have so much on your plate, it's unimaginable. Take one moment at a time, one small step in a straight line, don't lose your mind, and always remember everythjng will work out just fine. Stop worrying about your family, nobody hates you. The only thing they hate is seeing you cry 'til your face is blue. So please, just know you'll never be alone. I love you. Sincerely, Yourself, ten years down the road. 18 • • • , • • Say Goodbye Andrea Dickason Digital Photograph 19 Emily Hill He Walks The old and worn farmer roams Meyer Boulevard, Just as he did the flat, vast plains of North Dakota. The harvest is upon him. No longer the means to cultivate his land. He walks. The drought upon his skin-All cracks and furrows leading to the radiant transparent sky of his eyes. Dry and desolate in appearance, he puts forth effort to be wet and resilient. He walks. The path of the city sidewalk is a mystery; He fancies the street for it reminds him of the dusty and unpredictable country roads. Every form of life on the boulevard is thrilling. Man's best friend greets him with a wag. He remembers his own old compan-ion on those sultry summer days in the fields. The youthful college boys working construction on a home brings him back to bis creative, strong years. He walks. I see him observing me, as I bask in the sun, ·listening to my independent, ruckus, underground music. Kids these days ... too much time ... too little time. "Must get home to the missus." He calls his wife of half a century missus. Nice. A model citizen of nostalgic America. He walks. 20 • .. • • • Blazing Spirit Jessica Mongeon Watercolor & Oil Pastel 21 Dear Forum Readers, We hope you have enjoyed this issue of the F orum. Our goal is to encourage good writing and creative expression among Honors students. Share your talent by having your work published in the F orum. Just follow these simple steps when submitting written work or photographs: 1. Print a hard copy of your work. 2. Save it to disk as a Word document (.doc) file. 3. Complete a Submission Release Form. 4. Drop ~e above three items in the F orum editor's drop box found either in the Honors lounge or in the mailboxes. To submit artwork, please follow these steps: 1. Bring the art work to the Honors office. 2. Include your name and phone number with your artwork. 3. Complete a Submission Release Form and leave it in one of the drop boxes. You can also submit work via e-mail. Please submit doc11ments as attach-ments in Word document (.doc) and images injpeg format (.jpeg). Send submissions to honorsforum@yahoo.com. You will also need to complete a Submission Release Form. Thank you, the Forum Editorial Board 22 • • • • • • • • I • • • -the forum University of North Dakota Honors Program Robertson-Sayre Hall Box 7187 Grand Forks, ND 58202-7187 Address Service Requested 82819-5140 ~ It r· ' 

The Forum: Fall 2007

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The Forum: Fall 2007

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