CElEbRAtiNG LEGAciES - St. Pius X Catholic High School

Campus News and Information...
Feeney and Guyton Bring Recognition
to SPX Language Arts Program
Last year, St. Pius X was recognized in the January 2009 edition
of Atlanta Magazine as one of the top 10 high schools in Georgia
for its language arts program! The article highlighted our school’s
success rate for AP language and literature tests as well as our history
for winning state and national awards.
This year, our students are once again bringing recognition to our
school through their tremendous accomplishments, which serve
to reiterate the praise from the aforementioned Atlanta Magazine
article. Seniors Ryan Feeney and Diana Guyton have won top recognition
in the 2009 National Council of Teachers of English (NCTE)
Achievement Awards in Writing. Each submitted an impromptu
essay and a sample of their best work to be judged. All submissions
were read and evaluated by one high school teacher and one college
English teacher. From 1,783 students nominated, 544 were chosen
as the nation’s outstanding writers. Eleven students were chosen
from the state of Georgia, with Guyton and Feeney being two of
those 11. We congratulate them for their achievements!
In addition to being recognized by the NCTE, Guyton was published
in the Wayfarer’s Diary, a literary journal for Atlanta-area high
school students (printed by The Wren’s Nest Publishing Company).
Her short story, “Wordless Discourse,” was one of 29 works picked
to be included in this special publication. Her work is reproduced
below, in its entirety, with her permission.
Wordless Discourse
As Jacob noticed the distance between her eyebrows shrinking, he chuckled at the thought of her greatest asset and most
frequent traitor. Even in silence, she managed to inform him of her growing frustration, of her internal struggles, by manipulating her
slender eyebrows. The subtlety of her unspoken pleas for attention surprised Jacob; he had never considered her one who handled
reticence well. Yet there she sat, allowing the tension to escalate without even tilting her head in his direction.
Jacob stood and shifted his gaze to the stage, desperate to end their wordless discourse. Soon enough she would grow
impatient of his insensitivity, sigh dramatically, and wait only a beat before bombarding him with shallowly sentimental ramblings:
She would miss him. She did not want him to graduate. She could not imagine a better friend and did not know what she would do
without him. As always, she would be charming, affected, rehearsed.
By this time, the orchestra had only thirty-two measures to play before reaching the cue for her appearance on stage. Knowing
that their silence together in the wings would soon transition into animosity between their voluble characters, Jacob exhaled,
relieved by the prospect of suspending reality.
***
A sigh! So he, too, swallowed the words piling heavily upon his tongue. He, too, recognized that they would never again
wait in the wings — together. Usually, Cecilia depended entirely upon her reserve of icebreakers, her arsenal of anecdotes, and her
roster of automated responses; she struggled with silence. She had only managed to keep quiet for this long because for once she had
no idea what to say. What can one say to prevent the inevitable from occurring? What can one say to resolve three years of hostility
before thirty measures of music are played? What can one say to the reason for most of her regrets?
Nothing. Words failed her. Cecilia longed to hear her cue and bury her current frustration in the past. She drew her eyebrows
together and wondered how he would react if she were to cry. She decided he would dismiss it as another of her performances, readymade
to get her what she wanted. Of what exactly she wanted, however, she was not sure.
Cecilia jumped abruptly from her seat, ramming the chair into the table behind it — loudly — and thus causing the actor
on stage to drop his line. Eager to distract herself from the commotion, Cecilia fiddled alternately with her costume and her wig
and thought about her character’s motivation. The question of her own motivation, however, soon elbowed its way to the forefront
of Cecilia’s mind. She acknowledged that she could not make him love her, and probably could not even manage to make him her
friend. But only fifteen measures remained before Cecilia’s character would swallow her whole.
***
Jacob marveled at the relative length of a mere thirty-two measures, painfully extending his time in close proximity to her.
Five-hour rehearsals were shorter than this! He angled himself away from her and crossed his arms in an attempt to end the obligation
she apparently felt to shower him with meaningless platitudes. But the scarcity of distance between them made even her unseen
actions noticeable; he felt her sidle up beside him and hesitate before gingerly touching his arm.
Jacob stared at her, wordlessly pleading that she would make no effort to break their silence in the wings. He knew she
would. As he watched her eyebrows rise in dramatic preparation, Jacob knew the delivery of her inane monologue was imminent.
He had no interest in her empty words. He had never understood her perpetual pretense. He had no patience for her insincere —
Hug?
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