Voices - Gateway Institute for Pre-College Education - CUNY

GATEWAY 

VOICES 

2003 

gateway voices

Introduction 

The Gateway Institute for Pre-College Education operates 

high school programs for academically motivated 

young people invested in higher education and interested 

in the health professions. Gateway Voices is a 

journal designed to showcase the creative talents and 

unique voices of these students. For this, the second 

annual edition of the journal, I was deeply impressed 

with the quality, quantity, and diversity of the submissions 

we received. 

Students submitted over one hundred original 

works, reflecting the geographic, demographic and 

creative diversity of Gateway students. Selecting 

pieces for final publication proved exceedingly difficult 

and without the invaluable editorial collaboration of 

two dedicated Gateway students, Christian Gist and 

Allan Robles, this journal would not reflect so clearly 

the voices of our students. Space considerations prohibited 

the selection of many wonderful, interesting 

pieces of student writing and art. Please consult our 

website (www.gateway.cuny.edu) for an expanded 

selection of student work. I want to express my sincere 

appreciation for all the work submitted by the talented 

group of authors and artists in the Gateway program, 

especially the pieces we could not publish in 

this edition of the journal. 

The vibrancy and diversity of these young authors 

and artists is immediately clear. Students explored a 

multiplicity of styles and forms in both visual and written 

work. Even amidst the exciting variety displayed in 

this body of work, many students reflected on the 

enduring themes of relationships, identity, and social 

and political realities. Their work reveals serious consideration 

of themselves and their environments. 

Students explored the nuances of romantic, familial, 

and peer relationships. They expressed the strength, 

confusion, doubt, and discovery of their own identity 

with striking insight and relevancy. Students presented 

serious depictions and poignant commentary on 

social realities like racism, poverty, violence, terrorism 

and war. Additionally, the varied works presented 

here include explorations of topics ranging from beauty 

to health to fantastical events. 

I know you will enjoy reading the writing of Gateway 

student authors and looking at the work of the artists. 

This journal emerged from a collaborative process and 

could not have been possible without the efforts of the 

Gateway Central Student Council, Site Coordinators, and 

teachers who are gratefully acknowledged at the back of 

this publication. I hope this journal continues to serve 

as both a forum and catalyst for meaningful writing and 

art by these young people. 

Jessica Arnold 

Farhana Islam, Jamaica High School 

Class of 2005 

2 gateway voices

Table of Contents 

Identity 

Afisha Bain, Greatness 4 

Syllorne Wiseman, Celebrate Myself 

Farhana Islam, New Version of You 5 

William Dennis, I’ve Got to be Me 

Corina Alexander, Destiny 6 

Stephanie Rivera, Useless 

Cecilia Besley, Confused I Stand 7 

Deandra Hinds, Changing 

Millicent Bynum, Millicent’s Metamorphosis 9 

Christian Gist, The Light 10 

Joy Newball, Art Thou Cast Down 

Veronica Quito, Untitled 11 

Jerrod Bishop, Concrete Flower 15 

Society 

Funmi Showole, A Lesson Before Dying 17 

Bomopregha Julius, 

What is the World Coming To? 18 

Egomeli Hormeku, 

How it Feels to Live and Care 

Shaneka Caesar, The 19 

Sean Pickett, Sometimes 

Michael Olushoga, This Moment 20 

Nathaniel Ford, Survival 

Kimberly St. Louis, Sept. 11 23 

Tiffany Richards, An American 

Warda Zaman, Will I be Heard? 24 

GATEWAY 

VOICES 

2003 

Relationships 

Jonathan Pride, 

The Opposite End of the Spectrum 25 

Milredy Joseph, A Lonely Child 27 

Michael Nicholson, 

I Wish You Were Still Here 27 

Benjamin Mendez, Goodbye 

Jennifer Maria, Loneliness Sinks In 28 

Tavia Jackson, Single Mother 29 

Jenelle Angelique Nadine Lee, Untitled 30 

Aleksandra Nesterova, Don’t Know 

What You Have Until It’s Gone 34 

Other Voices 

Kevon Marshall, How I Became a Angel 35 

Alexia Mascall, Obesity-Linked Fast Food 38 

Natalia Fredericks, Intuitional 42 

Jamie Matthew, Gateway 45 

Kishauna Flowers, Speechless 46 

Jacqueline Marquina, The End of a Dream 47 

Acknowledgements 48 

The following artists contributed work that is 

displayed throughout the magazine and on the cover: 

Helen Aluleme, Sherman Ali, Gewan Bamasarran, 

Stephanie Clebert, Nancy Castillo, Marguerite Einhorn, 

Tonya Gorousingh, Yolanda Hernandez, Farhana Islam, 

Surpreet Kesar, Martrina Morrison, Jacques Princival, 

Harmanmeet Singh, and Tiffany Wilson. 

gateway voices 3

Afisha Bain 

Erasmus Hall High School 

Class of 2006 

Greatness 

When I hear the old man, 

Telling stories of great deeds, 

Telling of heroes of 

Those ancient days, 

When I hear that telling, 

Then I think within me, 

I too am one of these. 

When I hear the people 

Praising great ones, 

Then I too shall be esteemed. 

I too, when my time comes, 

I shall do mightily. 

Syllorne Wiseman 

Science Skills Center High School 

Class of 2006 

Celebrate Myself 

I am me 

Wise and Wonderful 

I am me 

Bronze and Brave 

I am me 

Witty and Willing 

I am me and 

I will be all that I can be 

No mountain too high 

No valley too low 

Once I am me 

And I be me 

I am all you will ever see 

Nancy Castillo, Queens Gateway Secondary School 

Class of 2008 

4 gateway voices / identity

William Dennis 

John F. Kennedy High School 

Class of 2005 

I’ve got to be me 

Harmanmeet Singh, Clara Barton High School 

Class of 2006 

Farhana Islam 

Jamaica High School 

Class of 2005 

New Version of You 

I suffer much for just being me, 

I am in love with being real 

So, that is why I pay such an awful fee. 

Being frank and honest may never 

promote me ahead, 

But I possess great peace of mind when 

resting upon my bed. 

I dislike throwing rocks and hiding in my 

hands 

Or faking a smile to meet the approval 

of men. 

Phony folks are so numerous and real 

people are so rare 

Whenever you act yourself, you get 

everybody’s stare. 

This dog-eat-dog affair is a game the 

whole world plays 

While the good morals of our society are 

buried under decay. 

So go on my brothers, my sisters 

And become what the world would have 

you to be, 

For I have already signed life’s comfort, 

I’ve got to be me. 

New goals, new hopes, new dreams, 

New thoughts, new ideas as it seems 

New point of view, new understanding, a whole new 

different sight, 

New clothes, new taste, new style if you might. 

New motivations, new taste, new style if you might. 

Promptly, new unremitting miseries as it comes, 

New strength, new power, new skill, 

Ten more seconds to the count of three 

Seven, six, five, four, three, two... 

One more second before you become a new version of you. 

gateway voices / identity 5

Corina Alexander 


Class of 2005 

Destiny 

I say goodbye to the past 

As the moments of today are flying by much too fast, 

I’ll remember the things that once were and never again will be. 

I’ll try to put behind me the things I’ve seen, but never again will see. 

Today is but a moment that will be looked back on as the past. 

The future will soon be present. 

I’ll live my life only to feel just like I haven’t lived at all. 

I’ll live the present with thoughts from the past I recall. 

I live in the now, 

But still I linger in the past somehow. 

I wish there was something I could do to make 

Amends with the past and a present all new, 

Then that would change the future. 

What is destiny anyway? 

It seems to be precious moments you can say. 

Our lives could be so different if we just 

Took time to look at it and see. 

Maybe the way it turned out was not the way 

It was meant to be. 

Stephanie Rivera 

Port Richmond High School 

Class of 2005 

Useless 

Stephanie Clebert, Jamaica High School 

Class of 2005 

Everyday, every week 

I feel as though I’m not me. 

I’m there, skin, blood, and all, 

But to everyone else, I’m just a thing. 

I’m a fax machine, a printer, 

Making copies of papers for people. 

I’m a candy machine, 

Handing lollipops, and pieces of gum, 

With no fee. 

I’m an answering machine, 

Repeating things over and over for homework help, 

Or nonsense. 

I’m a thing that constantly gets used, 

However, feels abused 

By the ones I call friends. 

But what happens to a machine or a thing 

That refuses to work or maybe is broken? 

It gets thrown out, or left in the corner 

And collects dust 

And eventually becomes useless. 


Deandra Hinds 


Class of 2004 

Changing 

I am caught in a whirlpool 

trying to find my way. 

Twirled by the world, I am 

trapped in a game. 

While I try to refrain from 

losing myself, I find that I 

am becoming someone else. 


Class of 2005 

Cecilia Besley 


Class of 2004 

Confused I Stand 

As I sit here with my radio playing 

at a level so disturbing, 

I think about the infinite things 

but yet I feel so empty. 

There’s so much to do 

wouldn't you agree? 

But then again there’s nothing. 

How fun is it to do something 

when you don’t know what you’re doing? 

The stars above call me every night, 

the dirt paths of the ridged earth attract my 

most cherished possession, 

I think as much as I blink 

where as every blink represents another 

thought or at least a developing one, 

artificial light shines in my face 

mere compared to the genuine light that the 

burning ball of gas 

reveals when so happy 

it is cold yet warm 

so confused I stand. 

Did you ever think “you” through, 

and come up lost? 

Tossed emotions run through my head as 

I lay here in my bed. 

I try to stay ahead, but just feel caught instead. 

What confusion! I wish I could find a solution. 

I’ve lived with myself and no one else, 

But I can not find my way. 

God knows I have prayed. 

Life seems unfair, but wait — I am here! 

No need to shed a tear, I have to face my fear. 

I am changing, life is rearranging, and 

there is no total sustaining. 

I am caught up in a whirlpool 

trying to find my way. 

I found myself, but I am not the 

same as yesterday. 

I am framing a better me, 

and I have finally broken free!!! 


Martrina Morrison, Queens Gateway Secondary School 

Class of 2004

Millicent Bynum 


Class of 2003 

Millicent’s Metamorphosis 

When Millicent Bynum woke up one morning 

From unsettling dreams, 

She found herself changed in her bed 

Into a cumulus cloud. 

She drifted downstairs 

For breakfast 

And to greet her immediate family. 

As usual, they ignored her presence 

So she floated away from home. 

And went to a place 

Where she thought she would be appreciated: 

AT SCHOOL. 

Unfortunately, she was only welcomed 

By her teachers and her true friends. 

Everyone else, 

Like pretentious people, 

Disregarded her. 

Once again she floated away. 

Escaping from their negativity, 

The winds managed to push her 

Into the direction of her close companion. 

She thought that he would fully appreciate her. 

Fortunately, he cared for her and loved her. 

He even understood her. 

But he couldn’t appreciate her completely 

Because he wasn’t too sure 

About himself. 

So she decided to keep him close to her heart. 

In the meantime, she needed to drift away and 

find solace. 

Once again, she floated away. 

She drifted away to a sanctuary 

Full of advice and morals. 

Where she learned the value of self-importance 

She also learned that others won’t appreciate you 

Until you appreciate yourself. 

With a new approach to life, 

She decided to give her loved ones 

A second chance. 

Once again, she floated away. 

Determined to try again, 

She arrived at her house. 

Her family was ecstatic to see her. 

Later, she learned that 

They were devastated by her absence. 

They even put up ads looking for her. 

She thought to herself, 

“You don’t know what you have, until it’s gone” 

She was so encouraged by their affection, 

That she decided to visit the school once more. 

Once again she floated away. 

On her way to school, 

She passed by a reminder of the sadness and 

negativity 

That haunted her each day. 

Not willing to give up easily, 

She continued on her expedition. 

She approached the ones 

Who claimed to be her friends. 

Unfortunately, they didn’t budge, 

And continued to think negatively of her. 

Showing no signs of stress, 

From the pessimistic attitudes she encountered, 

She continued to float away. 

She managed to come back, 

To her close companion. 

However, he still didn’t find himself. 

And wasn’t able to appreciate her completely. 

But she decided to stay with him. 

She thought maybe one day 

He would have to go through the same process 

That she went through. 

She laughed at the possibility 

That he may even wake up a cloud. 

Thankful for her new sense of appreciation 

And her big heart, 

She no longer needed to feel like a cloud. 

The next morning, Millicent Bynum woke up 

And found herself changed 

Back into a human. 


Christian Gist 


Class of 2004 

The Light 

I have been through the tunnel 

And I find myself now in the light. 

I’ve passed through many struggles 

That have shaped the way I am. 

Many things have inflicted pain, 

Some others inflicted sorrow, 

A few have caused distress, 

While others destroyed me in total. 

But now I see the light, 

That beautiful shining light, 

That has caressed me with its warmth 

And has renewed me inside. 

This light has healed my many pains. 

This light has healed my wounds. 

Its warmth has kept me living, 

Its clarity has purified my whole. 

I would never leave this light 

Because it has brought me great joy. 

It has taken everything that bothered me 

And happiness, to my life it has brought. 

Joy Newball 

Queens Gateway Secondary School 

Class of 2003 

Art Thou Cast Down 

“Why art thou cast down, O my soul?” 

That’s what I ask my self sometimes. 

“Why am I down?” Feeling the endless night isn’t done 

Like I have no oil so my light can shine. 

Watching others do this to each other is heart breaking 

But when you’re the one who is being persecuted 

You think of answers on why they do it. 

“Maybe it’s because I’m weak,” I say. 

“Maybe its because I smile all day.” 

“Maybe it’s because if you keep a light glowing with kindness 

It disables them and this light grants them blindness.” 

So the shades come down and that’s when it starts. 

The darts of evil come darting to what matters 2 your 

Argh!!! Is the pain that screams 

With this arrow pierced in my heart, I wait, 

I wait for death that has taken my conscience 

My conscience waits for the life to be forgotten 

Will anyone care, will they keep me there, 

There in their ♥s so I can live on? 

“No!!” they say, for there is anger and bitterness. 

“No!!” because they are selfish and arrogant. 

“No!!” because they could have something else replace it. 

“No!!” because they would have a cold and faceless 

♥ be in their lives, have coldness in their eyes. 

Having no pity on themselves, not caring 4 any 1 else. 

So that’s what happens when you’re cast down in your soul. 

Don’t let it happen, don’t let it take its toll 

Because it has happened to me and now I’m 2 old. 


Class of 2005 


Veronica Quito 

Bayard Rustin High School 

for the Humanities 

Class of 2005 

Untitled 

Skateboard. An unfamiliar term to me. 

It was my brother’s gift from my parents 

on Christmas day. He barely used 

it; he kept it in his closet. The wheels 

were an off-white with dirt here and 

there. To him, it was a wooden plank 

with wheels and of no use. That 

wooden plank would turn out to be a 

turning point in my life. 

“Clean your room!” my mother 

yells for the second time. 

“Yeah yeah,” I call out. I was getting 

sick of being yelled at. It was a 

beautiful Saturday morning and 

already there was discord. 

“You have three seconds! 

One…two…if I count to three and 

you’re not in your room..!” 

“Fine I’ll go now!” I say. 

I get up and head towards the back 

of the apartment. As light floods into 

my room, I see the scattered remains 

of an art project. Paint spills, brushes, 

and bits of wood and glue all cover 

the tiled floor. I pick my way across 

the floor, being careful not to slip on anything. As I 

lean on a wooden plank to jump across a pile of painted 

wood bits, the plank suddenly collapses and sends 

me directly into the pile. I lay on the floor, blinking a 

mile a minute, trying to figure out how I got from up 

there to down here. I slowly raise myself up and notice 

that I’m painted from head to toe. I pick up the plank 

and, surprise surprise, it wasn’t a plank. It was my 

brother’s old skateboard. Frustrated, I throw it underneath 

my bed, already packed with boxes. 

“Freaking skateboard,” I mutter. 

“What’s going on?” my mother asks, coming into 

the mess that was my room. 

“What is this thing doing here,” I ask, “isn’t this 

Miguel’s?” 


Class of 2005 

“Yes but there is nowhere else to keep it, so it’ll 

have to stay here,” my mother responds. 

“Might as well make use of it. What do you think 

will happen if I do this?” I ask my mother, as I grab 

the skateboard and jump on. 

Bad move. Not only does the skateboard fly from 

under my feet but I also fly from the skateboard and hit 

my head on my bedpost. My mother scrambles over. 

“Are you all right?” she asks with a worried expression 

on her face. 

”I’ll be fine,” I mutter, trying my best to remain conscious. 

“That’s the second time I’ve fallen because of 

this skateboard,” I comment. 

“Well, when you finish cleaning your room you can tell 

me how you fell the first time, you hear?” my mother says. 


“I’ll do that,” I say warily. 

Once I am done cleaning my room, I pick up the 

skateboard and examine it minutely. “Everything 

seems to be in place. Nothing is loose, missing or in 

any other way wrong,” I say to myself. I put the skateboard 

down once more. 

“This time I won’t jump on.” I carefully put my right 

foot at the front of the skateboard like I had seen pros 

do on TV. The skateboard wobbles a bit and then 

stops. I then lean on my desk and place my left foot 

on it. Right at that instant my mother walks in and 

startles me. I fall off and again hit the floor. 

“Wait until the summer when you can actually go 

outside and learn,” my mother suggests. 

“No. It’s now or never. I will learn how to use this 

thing,” I respond angrily. 

She backs out of my room and I continue trying to 

pick myself up. 

“All right, you board. I will learn how to use you, 

even if I break my head in the process. You will not 

succeed in making me afraid of you and continue 

using valuable space in my room. Be prepared you old 

thing,” I warn the skateboard. 

I get up on it and as soon as I do the skateboard 

tips side to side. 

“You won’t bring me down,” I tell the skateboard. 

Well, it did. It brought me down so hard that I 

thought I broke my skull. I had hit the corner of my 

wooden desk. 

“Aaaarrrggghhh!!!! You freaking *@#^!” I call out. 

I quickly scramble up and once again I try it out. I 

have to admit that I have a very stubborn and persistent 

character, which is the only reason that I am 

continuing to risk breaking my limbs. I fall approximately 

fifteen times before dinner and about five 

times before I go to bed. To me it seems as if I am 

making a bloopers movie because of all the falls. 

Unfortunately, I can’t practice again until tomorrow 

afternoon because I have Sunday school and then 

mass to go to. So I’ll wait until then… 

I am here standing next to the skateboard. So far, I 

haven’t done anything yet with it. I’m just merely looking 

at it. All right already. It’s time to get busy. 

“Here I go!” I yell. 

I quickly get in the mood and jump on the skateboard, 

forgetting what happened last time I did that. 

“Hey I didn’t fall!” I cry, surprised. “Woohoo!” 

The skateboard begins to slowly roll, while I concentrate 

on keeping my balance by locking my knees. 

“Don’t do that,” my father says as he steps in my 

room, “you’ll hurt your knees.” 

Really,” I ask worried, “I will?” 

“Yes. It’s too much pressure on your knees and 

you’ll probably fall faster than if you bend them a little. 

Here, let me show you.” 

He helps me off the board and blows into his 

hands, then rubs them. 

“OK, here I go. One, two, three!” he hops on, like 

I did, and nearly falls. 

He somehow manages to balance himself and looks 

up at me, smiling. 

“Look at my knees. See how they are bent? That’s 

how you have to have them in order to keep your balance,” 

he says, shaking because it was his first time 

on a skateboard. 

“Ok, let me try,” I say eagerly, wanting to try this 

new method. He hops off just in time before the skateboard 

decides to take off. 

“Whew, close one,” he says, exasperated. I jump 

on, and, keeping my knees bent, begin to roll back 

and forth like a mad woman. 

“Look at me go!” I yell, a little too loudly. 

“That’s good. Now try to go from here to there,” he 

says while pointing to the far end of the room where 

my mother’s old sewing machine was. 

“You think I can make it that far?” I ask, whimpering. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll do fine. Now go on.” He gently 

puts his hands on my back and pushes me. 

Even before I get halfway to the sewing machine the 

skateboard begins to wobble side to side and then suddenly 

stops. I fall flat on my face and, somehow, manage 

to hit my head in the process. I can’t believe this 

wood thing can cause so much pain, I think to myself. 

What I actually say to my father is a different thing. 

“Great fall, huh?” 

“Yeah honey, but don’t do it again or you’ll be in 

pain,’ he says wisely. 

I get on again, this time with a different purpose, to 

keep my balance on the skateboard without rolling 

around. This is going to take a while. 

I had spoken to my friend Arlene previously and she 

had given me some tips on how to successfully take 

control over the board. “Bend your knees a little so 

you’ll have better balance. And don’t forget to wear a 

helmet. You seem to have the tendency to hit your 

head too much,” Arlene had said. 


Sherman Ali, Queens Gateway Secondary School 

Class of 2004 


But of course, I never learn without it happening to 

me directly. So I don’t wear protection and I don’t 

bend my knees. But I still manage to increase my 

speed on the skateboard. Pretty soon I’ll be flying, I 

think to myself, smiling. 

Since the board obviously seems to have a tendency 

to stop suddenly, I suspect it will stop during this 

practice hour as well. Everything is going great so far, 

so I’ll I try not to jinx it. Too late. 

“Aaaahh!” I cry as the skateboard stops and sends 

me toward the cold floor. Thud. I gasp from the pain 

as I try to sit up. 

“I hit my back pretty badly,” I say to my mother, 

who had come in to see what all the noise was about. 

“Here, let me help you up,” my mother offers, trying 

her best to balance out the load of laundry she 

had in her hands in order to help me up. 

“Thank you… oh god, the pain!” I cry as I feel the 

hot rush of blood come pounding at my sides. 

“You’re not getting on that skateboard ever again 

until summertime comes. I don’t want you to break 

anything, you hear? You’re my daughter and I don’t 

want anything to happen to you.” 

My ideas are different, however. I don’t intend to 

stop until I have fully gained control over the skateboard 

and can walk proudly, saying that I too skateboard. 

It is my goal for the present moment. This is 

no longer about giving an old skateboard use. It’s 

about wanting to see how much I can resist as the 

stubborn, persistent, but most importantly, strongwilled 

young lady that I am. I want to resist the easy 

way in life and the laziness that can consume me 

when I’m in the lowest points of my life. I no longer 

am that girl who takes everything as it comes and 

does nothing for it until the last minute. I am now that 

young lady who prepares for what’s coming and does 

everything under her power to prevent any unpleasant 

situations that come her way. This is who I became 

after I learned the technique of skateboarding. Thanks 

to my good friend Arlene, who was my verbal skateboarding 

coach, I learned the satisfactory feeling you 

get when you are one of the few girls who know how 

to skateboard in a certain environment. I am not one 

of the preppy girls with nothing on their minds 

besides makeup and boys. I am now one of the few 

privileged girls who can grab a wooden plank and go 

out and have fun. I have made new friends from 

Yeshiva University who also skateboard. I hang out 

with them on most Fridays and sometimes Saturdays. 

The idea is for me to have good, clean fun while 

enjoying my youth to the fullest. I thank my parents 

for giving me support and lifting me up when I was 

down (literally). Most importantly, I won’t feel left out 

when Arlene talks about her experiences skateboarding 

because now I have some of my own. I also thank 

that great tomboy friend of mine (Arlene De la Cruz) 

who helped me along in her own crazy way. In conclusion, 

I would like to say that I hope you grasped 

the meaning behind my essay: that one should never 

go to sleep thinking one is a failure; even better, wake 

up every day believing you are a success. ■ 


Class of 2005 


Tiffany Wilson, Port Richmond High School 

Class of 2003 

Jerrod Bishop 


Class of 2005 

Concrete Flower 

I’m different from the other flowers in 

the garden 

I’m the flower that nobody wants 

All of the other flowers grow from the 

rich soil 

But 

I’m a flower who grew from the concrete 

Even though my petals are tarnished 

and I lean to the side 

I’m proud because 

No other flower from the concrete has 

grown as tall as me 

Even though people don’t want a concrete 

flower I think 

I’m beautiful. 


16 gateway voices / society 

Martrina Morrison, Queens Gateway Secondary School 

Class of 2005

Funmi Showole 


Class of 2004 

A Lesson Before Dying 

Their eyes stare right through me, 

My face they do not see. 

For I am just a black man, 

With no pride or dignity. 

They say that I don’t matter, 

That my life’s not worth a cent. 

And no gods can save me, 

My time on earth is spent. 

I swear I didn’t do it, 

I swear it wasn’t me. 

I would lead them to the truth, 

But they refuse to see. 

So put these bars around me. 

Seat me in that chair. 

Do the worst that you can do, 

I simply do not care. 

You say my life is over? 

Oh no, it’s just begun. 

Yes, you took this battle, 

But the war I have won. 

You see, you tried to kill me, 

But now you realize, 

That a spirit lives forever, 

A spirit never dies. 

And while I am in Heaven, 

Your eternity is Hell. 

For by killing me, 

You’ve created your own cell. 

They claim I am an animal, 

So they’ve locked me in this cage. 

They paint me as a monster, 

Who cannot control his rage. 

They have determined my future, 

They have set the date. 

It’s now my execution, 

That they eagerly await. 

They think that they can kill me, 

That my life they can take. 

They actually think that my heart, 

Is possible to break. 

Who do they think they are? 

Trying to play God? 

For my life can be over, 

With just one simple nod. 

Yes, they can take my body, 

But they can never take my soul. 

It refuses to be buried, 

Into a six-foot hole. 

Marguerite Einhorn, Brooklyn Technical High School 

Class of 2003 

gateway voices / society 17

Bomopregha Julius 


Class of 2005 

What Is The World Coming To? 

What is the world coming to? 

Is it coming to a complete stop that is inevitable 

Or is it just taking a break to make mankind realize 

our mistakes 

Slowly as we destroy it? 

It turns and turns giving us night and day, but what 

if one day the night and day never comes? 

The atmosphere of the earth is getting too clogged 

with human emotions 

Especially tensions that will get us nowhere. 

It is so easy to resolve the problem with one single 

weapon 

But is not as easy to just take a step back and 

realize what we are doing. 

They say we are the future 

But for some reason if there is no future, where 

does it leave us as the youth of tomorrow? 

So I ask you again 

What is the world coming to? 

Egomeli Hormeku 


Class of 2005 

How it Feels to Live and Care 

The first sixteen years of my "life," I stood 

And now I stand… 

In the same changes of the world that we 

thought we could, 

To find out we can't. 

With the same bad blueprints we use to erase 

the past, 

Followed by raves and rants, 

Will only damage the iron-lunged world more 

that we are at last, 

Until its last pant. 

Why does it seem that the people of old, 

So long gone 

Have more answers than the people of young, 

Still strong 

To learn from their mistakes as well as the 

others? 

Killing another with another melanin is still 

killing your brother. 

Killing for power will devour our morals 

It's so clear. 

When did it become politically correct to use 

threats by calling it justice to instill fear? 

Yeah, there are some questions 

But then again 

There are some answers and it's up to us to 

find. 

The only thing that's better than the button 

for rewind 

Is a blank tape with enough space to change 

our minds. 

The first sixteen years of my "life" I stood 

And now I stand… 

In the same changes of the world that we 

thought could, 

To find out we can …….in one second. 

Jacques Princival, Science Skills High School 

Class of 2005 

18 gateway voices / society

Shaneka Caesar 


Class of 2006 

The 

The people, 

The terror, 

The man in the mirror, 

The crimes, 

The rules, 

The times, 

The schools, 

The youth, 

The deaths, 

The truth, 

The days, weeks, months and years, 

The racism, 

The tears, 

The long walks, 

The talks, 

The parents, 

The kids, 

The arguments, 

The runaways, 

And the strays, 

The long days, 

And the years, 

The sadness, 

The one who cares, 

The friend, 

The violence, 

The END. 

Surpreet Kesar, Queens Gateway Secondary School 

Class of 2004 

Sean Pickett 

Bayard Rustin High School for the Humanities 

Class of 2006 

Sometimes 

Sometimes I wonder why I was born 

How this earth will be when I am gone 

In life things don’t always go good 

When you’re living in a bad neighborhood. 

Where people are shooting, thieves are stealing, 

Poor mothers can hardly take care of their children. 

Sometimes I dream this will all stop, 

People won’t sell drugs and won’t run from the cops. 

We will not push and shove 

Forget to hate and begin to love, 

We’ll stop hanging out on the streets. 

And maybe the world will come to peace. 

Sometimes I wish we were all friends. 

We’d never lose and always win. 

We’d all have jobs, make lots of money, 

Laugh together when something is funny. 

I wish I could visit the moon, 

But sometimes, some things don’t always come true. 


Michael Olushoga 

Adlai E. Stevenson High School 

Class of 2004 

This Moment 

The dreams of life are seen in reality. 

Each second, I see hatred brewed in homes, 

where children raise hands against parents, 

Each minute, I see the desensitization by television, 

caused by repeated violence seen in society, 

Each hour, I see the rich robbing the poor, 

in ways unfathomable. 

Each day, I see the exploitation of others, 

by those who have lost their sense of compassion. 

Each week, I see the destruction of our planet, 

by greedy and selfish corporations. 

Each month, I see the judgment of character through skin color, 

yet, the world is shared by all. 

Each year, I see starving children around the world, 

yet, billions are spent on warheads creating nuclear death showers, 

Each moment: whether it be second, minute, hour, day, week, month, year, 

I see the dreams of life in reality. 

Nathaniel Ford 


Class of 2006 

Survival 

Everyday when I walk down the streets 

All I see is tragedy and violence 

Police sirens and cops 

No sudden single silence 

It’s a crazy world out here 

Trying to get to the narrow world of survival 

But it’s going to be tough, 

Like a game against an arch rival 

In order to survive 

We’re gonna have to do it together 

Because war is not a joke 

And its after-effect lasts forever 

I truly believe that the world can resolve problems 

Without taking a life 

We can sit at a table and talk 

Without guns or knives 

War and fighting all the time 

It’s not really a resolution 

We should take time to ourselves 

Just think of a solution 

Many younger kids in the world 

Don’t understand what’s going on right now 

There are a lot of ways we can solve problems 

All you have to do is ask yourself how 

Many people today are scared 

Wishing the threat of war would slowly abort 

But it’s not likely 

So we need everybody’s support. 

Maybe this war will make our nation better 

But it’s going to be a rough future, so we need to 

stick together. 


Tiffany wilson, Port richmond High School 

Class of 2003 

Orin Cameron 


Class of 2005 

Heroes 

America, the country for red, blue and 

white. 

Country of peace, liberty and freedom. 

Challenged those who reversed the world’s 

rotation. 

Those who alter the lives of many others. 

For years, new souls come into this world 

Thinking that invincibility was a trait of 

this bond, 

Not knowing that this country is as 

defenseless as the scum of the sickest 

of countries 

Opens as a leader, strong and tall 

Start to crumble as panic starts to rise. 

Two symbols have been abolished from 

pure existence 

Never to be seen nor duplicated. 

Such gruesome creatures would do us so 

After all we have done, we have been 

stabbed in woeful hearts. 

Men rushed to keep spirits alive, not 

knowing if they would survive. 

Many people tip their hats to their fearless 

efforts in such harsh times 

Local people become heroes of the world. 

A world struggling to keep peace, liberty, 

and freedom. 


22 gateway voices / society 


Class of 2003

Kimberly St.Louis 


Class of 2006 

Sept 11 

It was a day that we’d all remember 

It was the eleventh day of September 

On that day there was a threat to the U.S. 

and we wonder what could have started this mess? 

Power is what it’s all about 

Power is what they want without a doubt 

But how many lives do we have to lose? 

What if you had to choose? 

1 million, 2 million, 3 million, 4? 

Your father, your brother, the one you adore? 

These events only lead to pain and hate that are 

escalating at a high rate 

Going to war won’t make it right 

These problems can be resolved without a fight 

War will only lead to more misery 

Deceased heroes will become a part of history 

The truth is that man is his own worst enemy 

How could he ever be a friend to me? 

If war continues 9/11 will just be the beginning 

It’s not all about losing or winning 

What’s more important, losing power or lives? 

Many of these men leave behind wives. 

Martin Luther King preached “free at last, free at last” 

That is now a thing of the past. 

But when will we be free from war? 

When will there be war no more? 

Our heroes never forgotten. 


Class of 2003 

Tiffany Richards 

Lafayette High School 

Class of 2006 

An American 

The land of the free it is called 

Back then that wasn’t true at all 

Treated with oppression, disrespect and bigotry 

Because of some brave African Americans 

We can all live in peace and be happy 

People being free to do what we want 

The people of America we are strong 

We are proud to be true Americans 


Warda Zaman 


Class of 2004 

Will I be heard? 

I sit here helpless, quiet and breathless 

I sit and ponder that which makes me wonder and fills me with anger 

I sit and ask myself what is the purpose, what are the consequences? 

Is going to war the only solution we have? 

Where did all the Nobel Peace Prize winners go and the negotiators 

disappear to and the scholars hide? 

Where did all the concepts run away in this season of Non-Violence? 

Do we think of Gandhi, Dr. King and Mother Teresa's lives only when 

we are asked to? 

Do we learn about their beliefs to keep them in memory for a few 

hours of our lives or do we recall their deeds and appreciate them 

without learning anything? 

What is the point of learning history when the mistakes are repeated 

over and over again? 

What thrill does the future hold now as the world is plunged into 

discontentment over unjustifiable matters? 

What is the explanation for this beside the greediness of mankind and 

the display of powerless power, the possession of strength by a 

black sheep? 


Class of 2005 

As millions of voices around the world shout out a protest cry 

As the voices wish to decide through democracy, their opinions are 

shunned...they are ignored. 

The so-called freedom of speech is completely abolished and it walks 

like a lame man, sees like a blind man and speaks like a mute. 

The tyrant has come to power; a dictator is on the rise here in the 

guise of a savior 

O God! Help us find the ways that will keep us far from going astray. 

O God! Give people around me righteousness, give them 

consciousness of the surrounding that they have ignored all this 

time, and give them reasoning. 

After all, these are what separate us from being savage animals, wild 

beasts that tear each other apart 

After all, we are human beings, we are chosen by Him as superior of 

all beings. We have the power to begin a conflict and end it, too. 

This is going through everyone's mind at present; this is leading them 

to speak up. 

Will this all be heard? 

This is what I wonder, as I sit here and ponder. 


He, however, was opposite 

Always responding negatively. 

During graduation, he signed my yearbook 

With an extremely powerful note 

The pain and anguish from within his soul 

Was displayed on his face as he wrote. 

“Dear Mr. President 

I hope you enjoy your life. 

I pray you’ll never be forced to endure 

Unbearable pain or strife. 

Your life is already better off 

Than most average people you find 

You’ll actually be astonished to discover 

How far they’re really behind. 

Jonathan Pride 


class of 2003 

The Opposite End of the Spectrum 

I was always the athletic one 

Receiver of unlimited fame 

While he was always the loner 

Silenced by his unspeakable shame. 

I was offered special opportunities 

He was simply ignored 

Forgotten in the darkest of times 

Hope, never restored. 

I excelled academically through high school 

While being elected president of my grade 

A prominent figure in the history of the school 

My memory, never to fade. 

He, on the other hand, was different, 

Sat in the rear of the class 

Never really popular 

Always forgotten and picked last. 

I tried to have an optimistic outlook 

On the troubles life dished me 

If you encounter someone less fortunate 

Or maybe someone from your past 

Don’t make a mockery of their situation 

Or think to yourself and laugh. 

You have no idea of life’s difficulties 

Only good things you choose to see 

Can you even try to imagine 

Living your life like me? 

Forgotten, forsaken, ignored 

Always pushed to the side 

Told that I was worthless 

Too ashamed to even cry. 

So when you rejoice in your glories 

Think about those who fight for a crumb 

And try to view the entire world 

From the opposite end of the spectrum.” 

He shook my hand and rose to his feet 

Handing me my closed yearbook 

And walked away with tears in his eyes 

Displaying a helpless look. 

To express the thoughts that ran through my 

head 

No words could ever define 

Although he killed himself later that night, 

His message was permanently etched in my mind. 

gateway voices / relationships 25

26 gateway voices / relationships 

Yolanda Hernandez, Queens Gateway Secondary School 

Class of 2007

Milredy Joseph 

Clara Barton High School 

Class of 2006 

A Lonely Child 

Who was that child that sat alone, 

Who had no friendship that began, 

Who wondered why, 

Who couldn’t lie? 

Who was that child, 

Who was quiet and mild, 

Who tried to fit in, 

Who they wouldn’t let in? 

Who was that child, 

Who wished he was fun and wild, 

Who wanted to be with the in crew, 

But who nobody knew? 

Who was that child? 

Do you know? 

I know I do, 

That child was… 

If you ever find him, 

Please talk to him 

Be a friend 

And give him a hand. 

Michael Nicholson 


Class of 2006 

I Wish You Were Still Here 

Two weeks every summer, 

I looked toward it all year, 

I miss you so much, 

I wish you were still here. 

Benjamin Mendez 


Class of 2004 

Goodbye 

With sadness in my eyes 

And tears close to coming 

I say goodbye 

With hatred in my heart 

And fear in my hands 

With love dying slowly 

I say goodbye 

With unwanted loads 

Of guilt and tragedy 

I say goodbye 

With me changing 

From good to bad 

From loving to hating 

I say goodbye 

With all sympathy 

And remorse gone 

I say goodbye 

With no feeling 

But the feeling of hate 

And ill-will 

I say goodbye 

With every dying moment 

I wait and 

I say goodbye. 

I didn’t come last summer, 

Now I wish that I were there, 

So I could have a little fun with you, 

I wish you were still here. 

Everyone really misses you, 

it’s hard without you here, 

But you are in a better place, 

But I wish you were still here. 

When I left last time you told me be strong and don’t ever cry, 

But when I heard what happened I couldn’t hold it back, 

You would understand if you were there, 

It hurts so much; I wish you were still here. 


Jennifer Maria 


Class of 2006 

Loneliness Sinks In 

Loneliness sinks in. 

Thoughts of them start to begin, 

If only I could turn back time 

Then maybe it would spare this heart of mine. 

I wish I could have them back. 

Then maybe it would heal every crack. 

I sit and try not to cry. 

But trying is useless so I cry. 

Losing two people I care for so much. 

Losing them without a touch. 

If only I could tell them how I feel 

Then they’d understand that my feelings are real. 

I wish I could have them here 

To help get through my biggest fear: 

Being alone with no one to hold, 

Being alone facing the cold. 

But now I lost them forever 

But I won’t stop remembering them, not ever. 


Class of 2005 

28 gateway voices / relationships

Tavia Jackson 


Class of 2005 

Single Mother 

They were together for a year 

She bore him a child and 9 months later he arrives 

He left her to raise him all alone 

She was unsure of what she was going to do 

She looked at her options and made some choices 

She chose to do this on her own 

Knew she would be wrong to ask her mother for help 

23 years old and already a single mother 

The workload she had to do 

Work and take care of a child 

She did everything that her mother had taught her; feed, clothe, and love the baby 

One year later she tells her mother of the struggle that she made as a single mother 

Mama said baby you done good and I will too 

By helping you out with my grandson Drew 

He is already one and she is managing, but she hurts because she feels the other’s pain. 

Now he is five and wild just like any other child 

But he’s been taught right from wrong 

And knows how she feels as a single mom 

He is getting older doing well in school 

Avoids the bad crowd and has been crowned 

Single mom’s first child graduates with honors 

His dad never came to see him and now wants to 

She told him no and said that she is a single mother, 

he only has one parent 

Her son says let me see him ma 

Because I have something to say 

“Do you even know what it is like being raised by one parent? 

You never cared about me but she did and she raised me 

on her own 

She is not just a single mother but she represents all mothers 

who have taken care of their children without a father 

And when she’s older, I will do the same.” 


Class of 2005

Jenelle Angelique Nadine Lee 

Brooklyn Technical High School 

Class of 2003 

Untitled 

“Strumming my pain with his fingers, 

Singin’ my life with his words, 

Killing me softly with his song, 

Killing me softly, 

With his song 

Telling my whole life 

With his words, 

Killing me softly.” ✻ 

“Oh Lauryn, you sure know how I’m feeling” said 

Jacquelyn to herself. She was sitting in her room, eating 

ice cream, and drowning her sorrows in some 

music. Her door was closed, the blinds were drawn, 

and the lights were down low. To Jacquelyn, this was 

the worst day of her life. As she thought back on how 

it all began, tears began to form in her eyes… 

******************************* 

It was the first day of school, and excitement was in 

the air. Everyone was talking, and smiles were on 

every face. The students at Metropolitan High School 

were all dressed in their best “school” outfits, fresh 

from their summer vacation. As the students migrated 

to their prefects, the guys checked out the girls, and 

the girls admired the boys. In prefect SC3T, Jacquelyn 

was excitedly talking with her two friends Simone and 

Jessica. The teacher, Ms. Alchiada, was desperately trying 

to capture the attention of the students. As the 

chatter slowly died down, the classroom door opened, 

and in stepped Jason McDowell. He was caramelskinned, 

with beautiful brown eyes, and had a smile 

to die for. His outfit was perfectly coordinated, all the 

way down to his sneakers. The attention that was previously 

focused on the teacher was now focused on 

him. All eyes were on him, especially those of the 

female students. As Jason found a seat in the classroom, 

Jacquelyn whispered to her friends, “Damn, I 

would love to meet him.” 

(3 Months Later) 

The school gymnasium was decorated with paper 

snowflakes, and fake snow was everywhere. The music 

was blaring, and the room was packed. The air was 

stuffy, and was filled with the aroma of perfume, 

sweat, and excitement. As Jacquelyn entered the gymnasium, 

she quickly scanned the crowd for Simone 

and Jessica. As her eyes grazed the crowd, she sighted 

Jason McDowell. He was standing with a group of 

his friends, and was looking as cute as ever. Their 

eyes met, and it seemed as if time stopped. He 

winked at her, and then broke their connection by 

looking away. As Jacquelyn regained her composure, 

she saw her two friends across the room. As she 

walked towards them, their eyes were frantically questioning 

her, asking, “What was that about?” When she 

reached her friends, they bombarded her with questions 

like, “Was that Jason talking to you?” “What did 

he want with you?”, and “You talk to him now?” To 

which she answered with a simple, “He winked at 

me.” She told them how their eyes happened to meet, 

and as they relished the news, Jacquelyn turned 

around to see where the object of her attention was 

standing. He was in the same spot, only this time he 

was facing her, and was staring deep into her eyes. 

Jacquelyn’s breath caught in her throat, and her heart 

began doing a techno beat in her chest as he started 

to walk towards her. He stopped shortly in front of her 

and said, “Can I talk to you for a minute?” She turned 

to face her friends, and wanted to scream, but instead 

gave a smile, and answered Jason with a cool, “sure.” 

As they exited the gymnasium, Jacquelyn caught a 

glimpse of Jason’s friends, who were all smiles. The 

two talked for a while, and later returned to the 

dance. However, instead of returning to their separate 

groups of friends, Jason led her to the center of the 

crowd on the dance floor. He placed his hands on her 

hips, and they began to move. At first it was awkward, 

and Jacquelyn was obviously nervous, but after the 

first song, they were moving as one. 

Jacquelyn and Jason danced together for the rest of 

the night, and exchanged phone numbers afterwards. 

When Jacquelyn arrived home later that evening, she 

was grinning from ear to ear, and was humming the 

Fugees remake of “Killing Me Softly.” It was the song 

that was playing when she was dancing with Jason, and 

was a song that she would never forget. That night, 

Jacquelyn slept peacefully, and with a smile on her face. 

Over the next few months, Jacquelyn and Jason spent 

more time with each other. After school, they hung out 

together, and traveled home with each other. Although 


their relationship wasn’t official, the two of them were 

known as a couple. However, as is common in many 

high schools, there was a group of girls who loved to 

hate. At Metropolitan High, this specific group included 

three girls by the names of Trisha, Shauna, and 

Alexandra. They were pretty, and always wore the most 

expensive outfits. If there was any new style, they had 

it weeks before it came out in the stores. They always 

got all the guys but were never satisfied. This was especially 

true of the ringleader Trisha, who had her eyes on 

Jason. Ever since the winter dance, Trisha did not like 

Jacquelyn. She always gave her the evilest of looks, and 

said anything and everything untrue about her. Although 

Jacquelyn was the passive type, and never let Trisha 

bother her, she was always aware of her and her crew. 

One day, after leaving Jason, Jacquelyn went over to 

join her friends. When she was near them Simone said, 

“Ooh Jackie, Trisha is grillin’ you.” She turned around 

to find Trisha giving her one of her evil looks. Trisha 

then shouted, “What?” To which Jacquelyn responded 

by saying, “I just wanted to know why you’re all up in 

my face.” Simone and Jessica laughed in the background, 

and couldn’t help but say, “Yeah, back up 

Trisha, let her breathe!” Jacquelyn then said, “I don’t 

see a sign inviting Ms. Trisha into our conversation.” 

“Excuse me?” asked Trisha, stepping forward. 

“You heard me,” replied Jacquelyn, also stepping 

forward. 

“I think you better watch your mouth. I don’t know 

who you think you are since you’re always hanging 

around Jason.” 

“Sweetie, don’t be jealous because you mean nothing 

to him.” 

“Like you do? You don’t even know that he’s playing 

you right in your face,” to which Alexandra said, “I 

know that’s right.” 

“Whatever, y’all are full of it.” 

“Oh really? Why don’t you go ask Jason, Jackie,” 

said Trisha. 

“Why don’t you shut your mouth, and stop talking 

trash,” answered Jessica. 

“Oh don’t worry, I’ll just let Jackie find out on her own.” 

“Whatever.” 

“Yeah, whatever.” 

With that, both groups turned and walked away, 

Trisha with a smirk on her face, and Jacquelyn with a 

scowl on hers. On her way home, Jacquelyn couldn’t 

help but think about Trisha’s words. 

“You don’t think she’s right do you?” she asked her 

friends. 

“You know Trisha’s just jealous.” 

“Yeah, she’s hatin’,” said Simone. 

“I know, but Alexandra does go out with Jason’s 

friend…” 

“Who, Andre?” asked Simone. 

“Well, why don’t you find out then?” asked Jessica. 

“Yeah, go ask Jason what’s up,” agreed Simone. 

That night, Jacquelyn couldn’t concentrate on her 

homework, and finally decided to call Jason. She let 

the conversation warm up before asking him about 

what had been on her mind all day. 

“Jason?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I heard something about you that I wanted to 

know about.” 

“What’s that?” 

“Well, I heard that you were playing me.” 

There was slight pause. 

“Playing you? Who said that?” 

“Does it really matter? Is it true or not?” 

“Umm, listen Jackie, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.” 

“But Jason…” 

Before Jacquelyn could even finish her sentence, 

Jason hung up. However, instead of getting mad, she 

Marguerite Einhorn, Brooklyn Technical High 

School Class of 2003 


was struck by a feeling of dread. She immediately 

called Simone and said, “Something is going on…” 

*************************** 

About a week had passed since Jacquelyn confronted 

Jason, and she still hadn’t received an answer. She 

tried to ignore it, and tried to keep it out of her 

thoughts. It almost worked… 

One day after school, Jacquelyn was waiting for 

Simone and Jessica at the front entrance. Simone had 

just joined her, and the two were waiting for Jessica 

when they spotted her rushing towards them. 

“Jacquelyn, I have to tell you something now.” 

“What is it?” 

“It’s about Jason, and I don’t think you’re gonna like 

it very much.” 

“You better tell me right now…” 

“Well, I was just talking to Jason and his cute friend 

Trey…” 

“And?” 

“And we were just having a normal conversation 

when Andre came up to Trey and said, “Son, lemme find 

out you’re messing with this girl, just like “J” is messing 

with Jackie.” Then he turns to Jason and says, “I 

didn’t think you’d last this long with Jackie, man. I figured 

this bet would only go on for about a week or so. 

You’re sucking my money dry!” I mean, he completely 

forgot that I was standing right there”, said Jessica. 

“A bet?” Asked Jacquelyn. 

“That’s what it seems like”, said her friend. 

“What did Jason say?” 

“He told Trey to shut up, then told me he’d talk to 

me later.” 

“So that night at the dance…he did it all as a bet?” 

asked Jacquelyn, obviously hurt. 

“That bastard,” said Simone. “Who does he think 

he is?” 

“Jackie, you better go handle this right now.” 

“I know, I know. I’m going.” 

The trio headed towards where Jessica had seen 

Jason and his friends. He saw them coming and tried 

to prepare for what was imminent. 

“Jason, I gotta talk to you,” said Jacquelyn. 

“Yeah, I figured you would.” 

“Go handle your business man,” said Trey. 

Jacquelyn turned and glared at him, and he immediately 

backed off. The two moved away from the 

group and Jacquelyn asked, 

“Have you been going out with me, pretending to 

like me because of a bet?” 

“At first, yeah.” 

“AT FIRST???” 

“At the dance…” 

“Forget it. It’s OVER.” 

“But you didn’t even listen to me.” 

“Why should I? You lied to me.” 

“Jackie, c’mon.” 

“NO, it’s over. Have fun with your damn money.” 

She then walked away with Simone and Jessica 

behind her. They asked her if she was all right, and 

she nodded quickly. However, as soon as they were 

out of Jason’s sight, Jacquelyn burst into tears. Her 

shoulders heaved, and her sobs were loud and hard. 

She was deeply hurt, and her friends couldn’t even 

think of what to say that would comfort her. They 

walked her home, and promised to call her later that 

night. Once inside her house, Jacquelyn exhaled a long 

sigh, and treated herself to some ice cream. 

************************* 

“Strumming my pain with his fingers, 

Singin’ my life with his words, 

Killing me softly with his song, 

Killing me softly, 

With his song 

Telling my whole life 

With his words, 

Killing me softly.” 

“Oh Lauryn, you sure know how I’m feeling” said 

Jacquelyn to herself. She was sitting in her room, eating 

ice cream, and drowning her sorrows in some music. Her 

door was closed, the blinds were drawn, and the lights 

were down low. To Jacquelyn, this was the worst day of 

her life. She closed her eyes, and tried to erase the day’s 

happenings. As she thought back on how it all began, 

tears began to form, and slowly fell from her eyes. Her 

head began to pound, and she tried to fall asleep. 

Suddenly, the phone rang. Slowly, Jacquelyn rolled over 

and answered the phone with a weak “hello.” 

“Hi Jackie.” 

Her heart almost stopped. 

“Jackie, this is Jason.” 

Acting on an impulse, Jacquelyn hung up the 

phone. She rolled back over, asking herself, “Why is 


that fool calling me?” Although she was angry, she 

was half hoping that he would call back. The phone 

then rang again. With trembling hands, she picked up 

and listened. 

“Jackie, I deserved that but I really think you should 

hear me out.” 

“I’m listening,” she answered. 

“At the dance, I saw you come in and I purposely 

made eye contact with you. I thought you were cute, 

and wanted to let you know that. Then Trey said, “I 

bet you wouldn’t go up and dance with her.” So since 

I already wanted to dance with you I had no problems 

taking him up on that. I really had fun dancing with 

you, but he wouldn’t believe me. When we started 

hanging out together, he was convinced that I was still 

doing it because he dared me to. There really was no 

bet, and I really do like you. Please forgive me…I really 

care about you.” 

Jacquelyn was touched beyond control. But she still 

wasn’t sure if she should believe Jason. Sensing this, 

he said, 

“If it helps, I had this big argument with Trey over you. 

Trey is a good friend, but I really do care about you.” 

Unable to withstand it any longer, Jacquelyn said, “I 

believe you, and I care about you too. It made me so 

mad when I found out about it, especially since I 

found out from Trisha.” 

“I know, and I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay, but you better not try anything like that 

again.” 

“I promise I won’t.” 

“Good” , she said smiling. 

“Jackie?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Look out your window.” 

She did, and there was Jason McDowell, caramelskinned, 

with beautiful brown eyes, and the smile to 

die for. As she opened her window she thought, 

“Maybe today wasn’t so bad after all.” ■ 

✻ KILLING ME SOFTLY WITH HIS SONG, Charles Fox, Norman Gimbel, Rodali Music (BMI), 

(Administered by Sony/ATV Songs LLC) Fox-Gimbel Productions, Inc. (BMI) 

Copyright 1973 Rodali Music and Fox-Gimbel Productions, Inc. All rights on behalf of Rodali 

Music administered by Sony/ATV Music Publishing, 8 Music Square West, Nashville, TN 37203. 

All rights reserved. Used by permission. 

Supreet Kesar, Queens Gateway Secondary School 

Class of 2005 


Aleksandra Nesterova 


Class of 2005 

Don’t know what you have until it’s gone 

Suddenly you love me. Suddenly you care. 

Suddenly you miss me and how it used to be. 

Now there’s a new guy standing here with me. 

Now you feel how I had felt when you had turned away. 

Now you feel the pain that I had lived with day by day. 

You need to get over it. Need to forget. 

You need to believe it I’m only a friend. 

You had your chance. You threw it away. 

Now you’re the one alone at the end of the day. 

You’re regretting every moment. 

All the mean things that you said, 

And regret what you have done. 

You should have known 

You never know what you have until it’s gone. 


Class of 2005 


Kevon Marshall 


Class of 2006 

How I Became an Angel 

Not long ago, I was a regular fifteen-year old child helping 

my mother tend the garden. I remember laughing and 

joking with my friends while we walked and talked 

together, however all of those things and more were 

stripped from me when I gave my essence to the heavens 

and became a being for love and prosperity. 

It happened on a cold winter day on the 15th of 

December. I was sick all that week from the flu and 

stayed in bed most of the time. My mother and father 

were beginning to worry for my health due to the fact 

that I was exhibiting strange symptoms, or so the doctors 

said. I was also afraid of dying. It’s actually the 

only thing that I am afraid of. I often lay awake at 

night wondering what would come after death and 

how I would take it. 

“Marie,” my father called from down the hall of our 

old house. “Do you want me to bring your dinner or 

would you like to come downstairs and eat with your 

Aunt Victoria and us?” 

“I’ll come down in a minute father,” I replied. 

I managed to get off the bed and down the stairs 

safely. When I saw everyone sitting together at the table 

laughing and drinking, I began to feel unwanted. 

“I’m sorry I did not come say hello my dear,” aunt 

Victoria began. 

“It’s fine Auntie,” I said, cutting off her sentence. 

We sat and ate for hours. My aunt, who had come 

to visit for the night had regaled us with stories upon 

stories of her travels through India and many artifacts 

she discovered on her trips. 

“That reminds me,” my aunt said, after her last 

story. “I brought you something Marie.” 

“Whoa,” I said in complete awe as my aunt handed 

me the most beautiful bracelet I had ever set my 

eyes upon. 

“I bought it off an old man at a marketplace in New 

Delhi.” 

“It is beautiful, Auntie.” 

“That must have cost you a fortune, Victoria,” my 

mother chimed in. 

“Oh, you’d be surprised, Annie, it was quite affordable.” 

Mariangely Segarra, Stevenson High School 

Class of 2005 

After my aunt left late that night, I was still speechless 

from the glimmering silver bracelet. It was stunning, 

and almost took my mind off my illness. 

That night, I had a dream that both frightened and 

confused me. I dreamt of an entity that appeared in 

the form of an extremely beautiful young woman. 

“We need you,” she whispered to me. “We need 

you, come, come to us.” 

I awoke the next morning with my hand seemingly 

stuck to my bracelet. Still feeling confused about my 

dream, I stayed in bed staring at the bracelet that I 

believed gave me that strange dream, however, the 

effects of the mysterious flu were back in full effect. 

I was too tired to do much so I only tried to draw 

what I saw while looking out the window. Suddenly, I 

noticed the picture of the bird I was sketching began 

to transform into the face of the same woman I saw 

in my dreams. 

“You must come,” she began to say, “we need you 

now.” 

I screamed out at the top of my lungs and my parents 

ran into the room at the speed of light. 

“What’s wrong Marie?” my parents said together. 

gateway voices / other voices 35

I turned back to the paper and noticed that the 

image had returned to its original form. 

All that day I tried to explain what had happened to 

my parents, who had not believed nor understood a 

word I said. 

Now this may seem hard to believe, however, right 

in the middle of my fourth explanation, I began to feel 

a sudden jerk in my spine and saw an entire world of 

swirling lights as I felt my feet leave the ground. Soon, 

I found myself in a room so bright that it almost gave 

me a hot flash. 

“My name is Cesilima,” the woman said as she 

slowly came into focus. 

“What do you want from me?” I asked. 

“You are the divine one. We have waited for you to 

return to us for a millennium. I know you are feeling 

confused at the moment, however that will pass in 

time. I will explain beginning with your past life. Long 

ago you were an archangel whose power was feared 

by demons throughout the universe. You were known 

as Maria, the Angel of Silence. Unfortunately, you 

were locked away in this human for several lifetimes 

by a demon whose evil flared after you were 

restrained. My disciples and I, however, discovered 

the body you currently reside in and were forced to 

intervene by planting that bracelet right in your lap, 

for it is the one relic from your past that can fully 

return your memory to you.” 

I stood there for minutes closely listening to the 

frightening news. I was left in utter disbelief, possibly 

even denial. 

“This can’t be true… my parents… my family…” 

“They were all implanted into your memory. You are 

a divine entity.” 

“No, I don’t believe it!” 

“Possibly, if I activate the counter magic of your 

bracelet your mind will be able to process such overwhelming 

information.” 

The woman came towards my crying slump of a 

body and began to chant in a foreign language never 

heard before. My mind began to warp and soon I was 

no longer Marie, I was Maria. 

That’s more or less how things went, how I became 

an almighty archangel, fighting against the underworld. 

No family, no friends, just power and the never 

ending battle between heaven and hell. ■ 

Harmanmeet Singh, Clara Barton High School 

Class of 2006 

36 gateway voices / other voices

Rodley Moise, Clara Barton High School 

Class of 2006 


Alexia Mascall 

Science Skills High School 

Class of 2006 

Obesity-Linked Fast Food 

Two words bring about 

Excess cholesterol and high prices. 

Two words bring about 

Food high in calories and spices. 

It is FAST FOOD. 

We eat so much, 

And continue to consume. 

Unaware that the more we eat, 

The more we bring on our doom. 

The salt, the fat, the grease. 

How tasty it is, and do we cease? 

No. 

We eat a Big Mac, 

And catch a heart attack. 

We eat Dollar Fries, 

And do not exercise. 

We eat Pork Fried Rice, 

Until our bodies lyse. 

We go out to places like 

Mickey D’s and Wendy’s. 

Instead of going to Fine Fare and A&P, 

You buy 12 burgers from White Castle 

And eat it in 10 minutes without any hassle. 

We’ll eat fast food until we cannot breathe, 

Not knowing that Obesity is considered a disease. 

So before you pick up a burger, 

Or even a French fry. 

Take a look around, and you’ll see the things you should realize. 

Fast food is unhealthy, 

And can harm you down the road. 

So take the road less traveled, 

And that could ease your load. 

Fast food can make you fat, 

And it sure can make you sick. 

So before you take the last bite, 

Remember, stop and think, then drop that greasy food quick! 



Class of 2005 


40 gateway voices / other voices 

Amy Lau, Clara Barton High School 

Class of 2006


Natalia Fredericks 


Class of 2006 

Intuitional 

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! Sounded off that annoying alarm 

clock. I hit the snooze button with irritation, got out 

of bed and prepared myself for the day. I was over at 

my Uncle and Aunt Sermon’s for a while. I’ve never 

seen them prior to now; I only conversed with them 

on the phone. 

“Good morning.” My 17 and a half year-old cousin, 

Keisha, greeted me in her usual I-wish-I-really-weren’there-right-now 

voice. I was visiting my relatives for the 

spring break because my parents were off on a private 

cruise. At first they wanted me to join them. I was really 

exhilarated by this, but something in my mind 

stopped me. It was like one of those intuitions that 

tell you that you have to do something that was more 


important than what you really wanted to do. So I told 

my parents that I would rather stay over at my aunt’s 

and uncle’s, because I had a fear of riding in cruise 

boats. A little white lie wouldn’t hurt anyone, but up 

to now I was still wondering what was on my mind 

and why it didn’t want me to leave my relatives. I left 

my room and went down the stairs to the kitchen to 

meet my cousin. 

Despite the fact that her favorite relative was visiting 

her, she still seemed tired, haggard, and distressed. I 

tried to ask her what was going on, except for the baby 

boy that was developing in her stomach and she would 

always reluctantly answer me, “Nothing.” This usually 

enraged me, but today I was going to make a change. 

Today, I was going to go through my well-planned out 

schedule, one that included no questions asked to my 

dear cousin. I wasn’t going to stress myself out during 

this vacation. 

My little cousin, Alicia, had just woken up and charged 

down the stairs with a huge Cheshire cattish grin on her 

face. Seeing her always enlightened 

my cousin’s appearance. I 

didn’t know what was wrong 

with me though. “Breakfast is 

served!” little Alicia sung as she 

jumped onto my older cousin. 

They exchanged hugs and kisses; 

I just wanted to see my 

food in front of me so I could 

get on with my vacation. After 

breakfast, Alicia and I washed 

our dishes and were set to go 

upstairs, but Keisha just stayed 

in the kitchen with her sullied 

plate in front of her. Reading a 

red and black book titled, 

“PUSH”. She seemed to have 

been studying that book as if it 

were for a Regents test or SAT 

exam. She spent most of her 

time reading that novel; in fact, 

this was the sixth time she has 

been reading it. One of these 

days, I’m going to slip away 

with that book and read it to 

see what was inside that made 

it so special. 


Class of 2005

Alicia and I stayed in the room watching 

television, reading stories, and playing PS2 

until 5:00. Little Alicia had been looking 

quite dismayed after 4:30. “My daddy will be 

coming home from work soon,” she said. 

Uncle Sermon was an amiable and gentle 

man, well, he sounded like one when he 

spoke to me on the phone. We got along 

very well, and I had no trouble with him. If 

he was a good man, why was Alicia looking 

so scared? Why did Keisha leave the house 

without telling us “good-bye”. Was this the 

reason of my intuitions, and was I about to 

figure out something that will eat at me for 

the rest of my life? 

The front door drew open, and Uncle 

Sermon entered with a grin. He handed me a 

small shopping list and asked me if I could 

do him the favor by running to the store to 

pick up a few groceries. I did the favor, but 

before I left I saw Alicia frowning at me from 

the stairs. I was having trouble finding that 

one item on the list while I was shopping. It 

seemed as if that item didn’t exist in the 

world. Then a thought occurred in my head; 

perhaps Uncle Sermon was keeping me out of 

the house so I wouldn’t know what was happening. 

That was why Alicia was so distressed, 

that’s why Keisha left so early. I 

dropped the groceries, ran through the automatic 

doors, raced down the street, pushed 

down a couple of irate pedestrians, and ran 

up to my relatives home. I peered through the window; 

no one was there, at least not in the living room. 

They must’ve been upstairs. I didn’t have the key to 

the front door, but I did have a lock-pick. I fished a 

bobbie-pin out of my hair and opened the door to 

pandemonium. 

Entering the house seemed like entering a nightmare. 

Clothes and other paraphernalia were strewn all over 

the floor. I heard a faint whimpering upstairs in my 

cousin’s bedroom. As I climbed up the stairs, the front 

door closed shut. Uncle Sermon must’ve been in the 

house the whole time. I hesitantly opened the door to 

my little cousin’s bedroom and found no one, however 

the whimpering grew louder. Alicia was hiding herself 

behind the bed the whole time. 


Class of 2005 

“Alicia?” 

“She came back too early,” she said. 

“What happened here? Where did your father go?” 

“……………………..” 

“Or more importantly, what did he do?” 

It just so happened that Keisha returned a little 

after Uncle Sermon came. She came back because she 

had forgotten the “PUSH” novel. Alicia said that 

Sermon had forbidden Keisha from reading that book 

because it would’ve warped her mind; and hell 

would’ve been unleashed if he had found the book in 

the house. So to avoid any trouble, she came back to 

pick up the book; but she hadn’t expected her father 

to be home. Uncle Sermon had found Keisha to be a 

very attractive woman, and despite the fact that they 


were flesh and blood, he took advantage of her. It had 

shocked me when my little cousin informed me that 

Keisha’s child was also the child of her father. It was 

hard for me to believe that my aunt never knew any 

of this, but Alicia had told me that Uncle Sermon 

threatened to do something bad to her if she told 

Aunt Sermon about the affair. It just so seemed that 

relatives could be a person’s worst enemy. 

I couldn’t let this continue, I had to do something. 

If there was someone who I had to tell about this 

atrocity, it would be my aunt. She usually arrives 

home from BINGO at 6’ o’clock, which was five minutes 

from now. Enough time for me to think of a way 

to report to her the events. I divulged the secret to 

Aunt Sermon when she came home. She was aghast 

to hear the horrible truth, in fact, she went mad! She 

was spitting, growling, and frothing at the mouth. 

Quickly she went into her linen closet to pull out a 

gun that she secretly hid inside for her hunting game. 

I stopped her. 

“Pull that trigger, and not only will you kill your husband, 

but your daughters too.” 

I was relieved to see that she gave in to my persuasions 

that violence is never the answer. So, she 

picked up the phone and dialed 911. 

When Uncle Sermon came back, he didn’t except to 

see a whole crowd of police at the front of the 

house. The officers booked him; no longer he could 

terrorize my cousins. I felt so proud of myself, I had 

saved both cousin’s lives and self-esteem, and I followed 

my intuitions. 

MORAL: FOLLOW YOUR INTUITIONS ■ 



Class of 2005

Angela Padilla, John F. Kennedy High School 

Class of 2003 

Jaime Matthew 


Class of 2006 

Gateway 

Open the organ of vision 

Grasp the strong light 

Penetrate into the entrance of ample opportunities, 

And new learning 

The road to your future 

Success in hands and brain 

This is Gateway 

To a positive, higher education 


Kishauna Flowers 


Class of 2006 

Speechless 

I sit here in the morning watching, waiting 

I finally see what I want 

It rises slowly making gold-orange streaks across the sky 

I rise and try to touch the rays of colors but fail 

I don’t get mad but I sit and watch the trees stretching and the mist rising 

I walk around touching flowers, eating fruits and smelling the wonderful aroma until night 

I then sit back down and watch the streaks disappear 

And see the stars surface as the sky darkens 

I look at the stars in a daze as if never wanting to look away 

The stars give me comfort; the flower’s aroma dares me to sleep 

I finally give in and rest on the inviting bed of grass 

I don’t say good night because they already know, they encourage me to be speechless. 


Class of 2005 


Jacqueline Marquina 


Class of 2004 

The End Of A Dream 


Class of 2005 

When you are sleeping, what happens 

at the end of your dream? You 

finally wake up. Many times you want 

your dream to end soon. At other times 

you wish you could see the end. To 

me, life is like some kind of dream and 

in the end I am finally waking up. 

Sometimes a dream can last as long 

as a caterpillar. Other times it can last 

as long as a trip around the universe. I 

don’t want my dream to be like a picture 

book or like an encyclopedia but 

more like a novel. Not like a movie nor 

a documentary. Not like a walk to the 

corner store or to school, but like a 

trip around the world. 

This dream will be a real, full-length 

adventure in finding myself and when I 

have finally accomplished this, only 

then I would like to wake up. That is 

the time of my dying. 


Editorial Staff 

Editor: Jessica Arnold 

Associate Editors: Christian Gist, Allan Robles, 

Elisabeth Iler, Patty Rout 

Editorial Assistants: Jordana James, Yarledis Salcedo 

Designer: Hannah Alderfer, HHA Design 

Acknowledgements: 

Thank you to the Gateway coordinators, faculty, and 

students who collaborated on this issue: 

Adlai E. Stevenson High School (Bronx): 

Michelle Kanner, Coordinator 


(Manhattan): 

Adrienne Rubin, Coordinator 

Lutrell R. Nickelson, Coordinator 

Brooklyn Technical High School (Brooklyn): 

Giancarlo Malchiodi, Coordinator 

Scott Mathews, Coordinator 

Clara Barton High School (Brooklyn): 

Carmen Daniels, Coordinator 

Erasmus Hall High School for Science & Math 

(Brooklyn): 

Keturah Nubyahn, Coordinator 

Jamaica High School (Queens): 

Kathy Kalansky, Coordinator 

John F. Kennedy High School (Bronx): 

Melanie Papkov, Coordinator 

Lafayette High School (Brooklyn): 

Linda Rubino, Coordinator 

Port Richmond High School (Staten Island): 

David Salomon, Coordinator 

Queens Gateway to Health Sciences Secondary 

School (Queens): 

John Madera, T.A.S.C. Site Director 

Camilo Rojas, Art Teacher 

Science Skills Center High School (Brooklyn): 

Michele Williams, Coordinator 

Gateway Central Student Council: 

Edwing Medina, Advisor 

Carolyn Almonte (Stevenson), Yerlina Almonte 

(Jamaica), Kaurang Amin (Kennedy), Nicholas Calder 

(Science Skills) Luz Ceballos (Humanities), Nanette 

Cedeño (Stevenson), Christian Gist (Erasmus), 

Deandra Hinds (Jamaica), Jereen Hossain (Clara 

Barton), Tavia Jackson (Erasmus), Bomopregha Julius 

(Science Skills), Amy Lau (Clara Barton), Rodely 

Moise (Clara Barton), Sharona Moore (Kennedy), 

Allan Pang (Humanities), Amelia Prasad (Kennedy), 

Osei Rhone (Jamaica), Allan Robles (Science Skills), 

Grant Reid (Humanities), Nadim Shaun (Stevenson). 

For more information 

about the 

Gateway Institute, please 

consult the Gateway 

website: 

www.gateway.cuny.edu 

To contact us, email 

gateway@ccny.cuny.edu or 

call 

(212) 650-6088. 

48 gateway voices 

Helen Aluleme, Clara Barton High School 

Class of 2005

Voices - Gateway Institute for Pre-College Education - CUNY

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