Senior 2009VOL. 01 NO. 01June 06-18, 2009

Is Greed Good?A persusaive essay that delves into the value of sel!shness. pg. 7

HUNGRY FOR KNOWLEDGE

A Little Bit of Live Culture: A cultural experience in Concert Hall

Looking BackOn high school and whether or not I had the time of my life. pg. 9

WHAT DEFIN

ES TRUE GENIUS

Lockers

, Lunch Lines,

Chem

isty a

nd cliqu

es

CONSIDER A CLOSE FRIEND

Inter

view w

ith m

y pare

nts

POETRY CORNER

Taking a

glan

ce back

In This Issue... FacebookIs it the reason kids these days are losing their ability to socialize? pg. 13

FriendsWhat is it that makes them so important to us? pg. 4

Table of Contents

-- Page 3: Theme paper

-- Page 4: What Defines True Genius

-- Page 5: Philosophy on Life

-- Page 6: Friendship

-- Page 7: Cultural Trip

--Page 8: My Car

--Page 9: Persuasive Essay

--Page 10: How We Change

-- Page 11: Looking Back

-- Page 12: Poem

Page 13: Columnist

Page 15: World/Political Event

Page 16: Parent Interview

Page 17: Descriptive Essay

You can say I’m interested in knowledge, because I never seem to have enough of it. I love the English language, and it’s one of my continuing goals to have a fuller grasp of it. T h e r e’s a l o t o f r a n d o m knowledge I know, call it “wiki” knowledge, but it’s always f r u s t r a t i n g w h e n I c a n’t remember some of the big things like what day in history Pearl Harbor was attacked. I have made it a point to sit next to students who are smart, b e c a u s e I a m b y n a t u r e academically competitive. The t h r i l l o f c o m p r e h e n d i n g something in a deeper sense than any other and being able to articulate thoughts more precisely is something to be sought after. Admittedly, I’m somewhat selective when it comes to interest in certain chapters of education, but I know that when I apply myself with a vested interest I find obtaining knowledge to be a uniquely rewarding experience. Looking back, there are so many things I wish I would have had time to learn. I regret not taking any AP classes, since it seems obvious to me now that my grades are relatively even no matter the difficulty of the class. Learn. That’s what I came here to do, so I might as well enjoy it and do well at it.

It’s something we do together, and help each other accomplish. Granted, we must each have an inner quest for learning in order to accomplish the all important identification of self. But our independent search for knowledge would be impossible without the help of the other students we have in our classes, the camaraderie

that stems from the shared desire to individually succeed. Whether it was late night study groups or the simple giving of advice about what was on the test, our senior class was interwoven in many ways in order to promote that quest that lies in each of us.

The Quest for Knowledge

SEARCH FOR TRUTH-- As part of the Christian Bible Club at Trabuco Hills High School, I was blessed with knowing a group of students who care about the same things I do.

SPRING 2008-- I went to New York with a bunch of AP Art History students to visit all the museums and landmarks. I learned a lot of interesting things that week while also having a tremendous amount of fun

KNOWLEDGETHE THEME OF

IN ALL THE MONTHS YOU SPEND IN THE CLASSROOM, YOU’RE BOUND TO LEARN SOMETHING...

What Defines Genius?

Exploring the Meaning and Definition of Brilliance

Blake Butterfield• • •

Gen·ius, n., exceptional intellectual or creative power or other natural ability.

The general definition of genius doesn’t tell us whether or not it is inherited, whether it is learned, or whether or not it is something that all have but only few use.

Einstein. Newton. Da Vinci. History has awarded the title of ‘genius’ to many names of the past, but what specific qualities did they possess that made them stand so far out? Genius

can be defined as the ability to use imagination and creativity to invent, discover or create something new and useful.

Many men and women pioneers of the world have made important discoveries that entitle them to the category of genius. Einstein introduced the theory of relativity, suggesting that matter can be converted into energy. Sir Isaac Newton discovered the effects of gravity in our universe. Leonardo da Vinci is renowned for the birth of many ideas that later became working inventions. He conceptualized a helicopter, a tank, concentrated solar power, a calculator and even outlined a rudimentary theory of plate tectonics, just to name a few. If Benjamin Franklin had not discovered how to utilize the conduction of electricity, imagine how different earth would be today, without television, cell phones or computers. Scary, isn’t it?

In truth, if Benjamin Franklin had not been enlightened on that stormy night, s o m e o n e e l s e w o u l d h a v e

u n d o u b t e d l y m a d e t h e s a m e discovery. Franklin knew what it takes to be a genius: bold initiative. The ability to produce creative, new ideas defines genius. Taking bold steps into the unknown and understanding the risks involved is key to brilliance. Galileo was inspired to question the very basic teachings of the Catholic church by suggesting that Copernicus might have been onto something when he theorized that the planets actually revolved around the sun, not the earth. Although he was accused of blasphemy and alienated from by the church, Galileo pursued what he firmly believed to be truth.

All people possess the ability to aspire to genius, but only those with motivated minds choose to pursue their goals with determination. It is determination, that rare yet possible diligence, along with a creative mind and a desire to learn , that defines genius.

Spring 2008-- I went to New York with a bunch of AP Art History students to visit all the museums and landmarks. I learned a lot of interesting things that week while also having a tremendous amount of fun

by Blake ButterfieldPhilosophe

• • •

“Hello, I think I’d like one Philosophy. On Life please.”

“Of course. Would you like potato chips on the side?”

“No, but could you make that to go? That would be terrific.”

Undoubtedly, asking someone to prepare an explanation of his life’s philosophy “toward life and all its aspects” is a rather large order to fill, and perhaps impossible to describe completely. For my philosophy of life is not merely a checklist of what I do and do not believe. Rather it is an attitude or approach that encompasses my life and all parts of it; it determines how I act and react to any given situation. In fact, I submit that one can never fully understand his or her philosophy on life, since he/she cannot fully know how he/she will react in a certain situation until confronted by it.

Far too many times I hear people attempt to summarize a life philosophy in short, catchy, and usually altogether ridiculous maxims like, “Life is what you make of it” or “Never take life too seriously.” Life is just too dynamic to coin any specific phrase that will always apply. There are times when a serious attitude is necessary, still other times when hearty laughter is the best prescription. Determining the proper time for each reaches closer to what a philosophy on life really is.

Rather than attempt to visit each “aspect” of my life and comment on my philosophy in it, I will instead attempt to describe my approach to specific parts of my life that encompass many of its aspects. In my small summary of each approach to specific parts of my life, it will be easy to glean my “general beliefs and attitudes” on different subjects.

We shall begin with school. My approach to school is intertwined with my motivation, and I am highly motivated in that which either captures my interest or is challenging. Conversely, I will most likely not put forth my best effort when I encounter that which is mundane or elementary. That is not to say I will not put forth good effort, only that my own interests will not be a vested part of my work, and therefore will not reach maximum potential. My procrastination is another issue entirely. I may be very interested in writing a challenging essay about my Philosophy on life, but it is possible that I will procrastinate and end up writing it at the last minute, despite the intrigue of it all.

Whether I enjoy a class or not, I always make it a point to sit next to a student who is of notewor thy intelligence, whether he be slightly eccentric or not. This serves several purposes. Primarily, it presents for me a challenge, and as I’ve mentioned previously, a challenge can be a source of great motivation for me. It can help expedite the process of understanding; working together with one who also understands the material is much more preferable than always having to stop and help the slow kid with the stupid questions. Additionally, working with the smart crowd safeguards me from the contagious disease of Apathy, a disease most commonly found in the dunce who has reserved himself to failure and uses Apathy as a his viable excuse.

A s i d e f r o m t h e p u r e l y scholastic, school is a place to meet people who share the same views as I, or at least care about the those views. Clubs, sports, and electives are all examples of ways to explore the things I enjoy, with other people who also enjoy them. It’s fun and engaging, and

done entirely by choice. School is always first a place for learning, not necessarily a place for social activities. But, on the off chance I find a way to do both at the same time, through a club or sport or whatever, I might invest in it.

Moving away from school, lets talk about my approach to friendship. I love the friends I have. Not to be confused with companionship, the definition of friendship is narrower; it goes beyond sharing common interests and delves into something deeper. Usually friendship will start out with one saying something like, “You too? I thought I was the only one.” There are many companions one can have, but only a few can be called friends.

The love for a friend is the most unnatural of loves, because it is entirely unnecessary. It is selective; society could operate fine without friendship, could reproduce and go on very efficiently, maybe better, without the rebellion of friendship, the breaking off from the herd to hang out. It does not increase the value of life, but it does give life more value. It has the least association with impulse or emotion. It is not jealous, because it gladly accepts more people into the circle, as long as they can bring out more in the friends they already have. It is exclusive, because saying, “These are my friends” implies that “Those are not.” It doesn’t make sense. Friendship plays a crucial role in my life for encouragement and the basic necessity of joy.

Family. I love my family. Even though having disagreements is impossible to avoid when we live in the same house together, we have a common bond of love that I know will always exist. Therefore, I always approach my family from the springboard of love. My philosophy on life is expansive, but, hopefully this small glimpse will suffice.

The Answer to Life, The Universe, and Everything... My Philosophy on Life

Considering FriendshipBlake Butterfield

• • •

Consider your close friend. A c l o s e f r i e n d i s b o t h trustworthy and effortless to be around. There is no need to worry about what to say. In fact, there is no end to what can be said; endless reservoirs of love and joy pour freely from the heart for a beloved friend. Nothing is held back; there is no need to worry about saying the wrong thing. Even in perfect silence there l i e s a c o m m u n i o n t h a t acknowledges an established camaraderie between friends. Such a connection between two people is treasured, and affirmed in the refineries of time. The bonds of friendship are made tighter as two friends grow up together, accomplish things together, learn the same lessons together. By maturing in the same context, each friend works conjointly, filling

in the gaps of one’s weakness with the others strength. This “dynamic duo” ties together all that the Bible defines as love: it is patient, kind, it does not envy another nor does it boast itself proudly above another. It is not rude, it is not self-s e e k i n g, i t i s n o t e a s i l y

angered, and keeps no record of wrong. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always preserves. Most of all, it never fails. Such a contrast to the rest of the world, no wonder we hold so close the friends we love so dearly!

A SIMPLE QUESTION: HOW ARE FRIENDS IMPORTANT?

Friends are important to me because they provide fellowship. Our similarities and differences help me

grow and develop not only as a person, but as a child of God as well. They challenge me to grow and become

all that Christ has intended for me.— Hannah Verscheren

PROMENADE

And of course, you’ve got to take the prettiest girl you know to prom. Here’s me doing exactly that.

Prom is just one of those experiences that make make high school complete, and is made far more memorable in the company of all your best friends.

Friends are important to me because I enjoy getting to know them and finding out what makes them who

they are. I enjoy their different senses of humor, their likes and dislikes (especially pertaining to music and

food!), and I also learn so much from my friends.— Samuel Mohring

True friends, I have found, posses a love for the other that does not let them rest until peace is restored to

the other's heart, whether with an act of selflessness or just an open ear. True friends learn to die to self in a world where self is elevated to god. They may not be perfect, but like someone once said, they are the ones who continue to be by your side despite knowing you.

— Andrew Joncich

• • •

As a special treat, a relatively new friend of mine, Samuel Moehring, quite randomly invited me to attend a concert he was playing in, along with the rest of the Pacific Symphony Youth Orchestra. Not knowing what to expect, I simply said yes I’d love to go. Sam gave me a ticket and I made plans to drive up to the Orange County Preforming Arts Center to watch, or rather listen to, Sam play the bassoon, which is a completely random wind instrument I’d never even heard of before.

On an otherwise unimportant Sunday night in March, very calm and undramatic, I arrived to find small crowds of people quickly shuffling into the concert hall to secure their seats before the concert began. I took mine quietly and found several familiar faces sitting in the seats on either side of me, which was a relief, because I wasn’t sure if I was the only one from school whom Sam had invited. We sat. The lights dimmed. the stage was filled with instruments and their handlers,

obviously anticipating their first piece. From a well hidden door on stage left emerges a man whom I instantly know must be the conductor. Rather tall and deliberate, his long coattails flow behind him as he walks toward the center of the stage with the composure o f a m a n w h o k n o w s h e c a n orchestrate an entire ensemble of young musicians. By glancing at the program I’d been handed I see the conductor’s name is Maxim Eshkenazy, a Bulgarian native who has been described by the Los Angeles Times as “charismatic and exciting,” as well as a conductor with “vigor and intelligence,” w h o c o n d u c t s w i t h “c o m p l e t e assuredness and insight.”

I was taken by surprise at how I thoroughly enjoyed listening to what many would consider old and boring music. There were three concertos that night, one violin, one cello, and one harp, respectively. Each was fantastic in its own right. The technical precision of the violin, the passion and voracity with with which the cello was strung, and the blissful grace of the harp all provoked the very emotions of b o t h t h e m u s i c a n d i t s producer. I found myself floating on the notes of the music, feeling a story unfold through the instruments that told them in great detail.

The story element of the music was particularly noticeable to me on the last piece, which was my favorite. “Symphonic Dances from West Side Story” was composed by Leonard Bernstein in 1961. These Symphonic Dances captured the essence of the music for this concert performance. The music told a story, and as the the story unfolded, I unfolded with it. It was surprisingly enjoyable. Maybe I’ll tell my next date that I’ve got tickets for a great concert, then take her to watch the Pacific Symphony Orchestra perform... that would be funny.

A Little Bit of Live Culture

FROM THE EDITORYou know, there’s a lot of “cultural” experiences I’d like to have before I grow old and boring, and going to this concert was just one of those experiences. Someone once told me that while we are welcome to stay locked in our rooms where its safe until we grow old, there are

probably few things in this world more sad than growing up and not having any good stories to tell.

Enjoying the symphonic melodies of the Pacific Symphony Youth

MY FAVORITE PLACES TO EAT

ChipotleIN-N-OUTSubwayIslandsCherry On Top

MOST FUN SCHOOL EVENTS

PromHomecomingSenior WalkBattle of the GradesWater Bottle Riot!

FAVORITE CLASS SUBJECTS

EnglishPhysicsEconomicsAuto ShopPsychology

Nothing Quite Like Having My Own Car...

Nearly every teenager’s definition of freedom includes owning and driving his or her very own car. I’m no exception. I love my car. Before Junior year I worked diligently for and entire summer until I had saved enough money to buy a car. After scouring the newspapers for a good deal my parents took me to the car dealership to help me make my purchase. Running along with the theme of “hunger for knowledge” it is fitting that I share the important lesson I learned that day. My father taught me to leave my feelings at the door when entering a business transaction, to maintain a cool and logical approach. I watched as he artfully worked the dealer from a $6,999 asking price to an affordable $4,000. Impressed but not surprised, I realized there is much to learn from my dad’s experience in business. Excited as I was to finally own a car, It still took me two weeks before I learned how not to stall. Eventually and after much despairing about never being able to drive a stick shift, I learned. Now, I’m the master of transportation. There are few accomplishments in adolescence that are as liberating as learning to drive your own car, the one you earned. Knowing I have the freedom to take myself anywhere I’d like to go is wonderful, and knowing I’ve also earned enough trust from my parents to drive to those places is rewarding all in itself. Now if only I didn’t have to pay for gas and insurance......

MY CAR STATS

Average Cost of Gas Per Year in Dollars

822Average MPG

29.64Average miles per $

12.21

ABOUT ME

I love...• Reading• Orange Juice• Company• Mexican Food• Surfing• My car• In-N-OUT• Chipotle• Using up all the hot

water when I take a shower

• Karate/wrestling• Watching movies with

friends• California• My Family• My friends• The feeling you get

after brushing your teeth

• Relaxing• My drivers license

Periwinkle• My drivers license• Periwinkle• Burgundy• Having something to do• Going on Cruises• Sleeping• Vacations• Life

Greed.... is Good?“Greed – for lack of a better word

– is good,” proclaimed corporate raider Gordon Gekko in Oliver Stone’s hit movie, Wall Street, “Greed is right. Greed works. Greed clarifies.”

Not many people think of today’s business moguls and millionaires with warm feelings in their hearts. Most people think of greed as an ugly thing. It is wanting too much and having more than one needs. Greed has driven men to murder and corruption. Who really needs a $100 million house to live in? Isn’t that just greedy? One survey found that on T.V., criminals are more likely to be portrayed as business men than any other occupation. But is greed really such a bad thing?

Consider various forms of greed, and how they can be beneficial to more than just one person. Einstein was greedy for knowledge, and his contributions to the field of physics revolutionized science. Shakespeare was greedy for money, but thanks to his greed many young, vibrant high school minds have the supreme pleasure of studying his plays. Athletes are greedy for victory.

Actors are greedy for recognition and enjoy satiating their conceited desires to be the center of a t t e n t i o n . B u t t h e y contribute to the rest of u s b y b e i n g o u r entertainment. Is that so bad?

While it might seem rude to blatantly come out and claim that g reed gets wonderful things done, it doesn’t take long to realize this when one imagines what a world without greed would look like. Adam S m i t h , t h e f a t h e r o f economics, once said that

“It is not from the benevolence of the butcher, the brewer or the baker that we expect our dinner, but from their regard to their own interests.” I will wager that cattle ranchers in Texas are not spending long work days caring for their steer just because they feel good when they imagine the smile on my face as I sink my teeth into a juicy steak. If steak dinners depended on human love, kindness and feeling the pain of others, then there would be no steak. The real reason why people can benefit from so many different kinds of goods and services is that people care mostly about themselves.

It is true that the rich business men and women on the front cover of Forbes and Fortune magazine are also usually greedy people, but their greed does more than make them rich, it also gives you and me good things. Before Bill Gates could make his countless mountains of money, he first had to persuade and entice us to buy what he was selling. In general, greed works for businesses only if it creates something useful that other people are willing to buy. Thousands of jobs were created in the company Microsoft because Bill Gates wanted to sell something that would make him rich. Therefore, greed can be viewed as a productive force, where everyone wins.

Unless someone cheats. Greed is a terrible thing when people cheat. Greed in its unrestrained form leads to theft, fighting, and taking things by force. But these are the exceptions to the rule. In order to become extremely successful, it is necessary to somehow meet the needs of the public interest. As long as corruption and theft are illegal, greed will continue to be a helpful motivator in society. Perhaps greed isn’t as noble or pleasing as charity work, but it is vastly more contributory. So the next time someone tells you you are greedy, remind them that greed... is good!

ABOUT ME

I can’t stand• Liars• Gossip• People who cuss

excessively• Drugs/cigarettes/

alcohol• Regret• Math tests• People with no sense of

humor• When Taco Bell screws

up my order• Awkward moments

(Yet I constantly create them)

• When people hang up instead of leaving a message

• Letting people down• sauerkraut• Jerks• Having nothing to do

PersonalityA profile test taken in

psychologyCompared to the general population...

Openness 71%

Conscientiousness 54%

Extraversion 75%

Agreeableness 53%

Neuroticism 34%

Awesomeness 100%

A look at the gigantic social leap we make in our four years of high school

Lockers, Lunch Lines, Chemistry, and Cliques

Blake Butterfield• • •

Looking back and reflecting on what kind of kid I was as a freshman, its a wonder how I ever became the man I am today, especially in the short span of only four years. And every time I see a new wave of freshmen file into their classes for the first time I remember h o w a w k w a r d , i m m a t u r e , a n d underdeveloped we all were. The funny part was, we didn’t realize we were each to some degree all experiencing the burdens of self-consciousness and social turmoil.

I remember feeling like the only one who was constantly making a fool of himself, committing a faux pas at every turn. Perhaps it was that I was transferring into a public school district from a private school I’d been in since first grade, but undoubtedly much of the undue awareness of my own self sprung from the strange phase of change that all freshmen were undergoing. Now that I can look back

f ro m t h e co m fo r t a b l e v i e w o f completion it is almost comical to think about what a huge deal we could make out of each little event that happened in our lives. Life as a freshman underdog seemed like a matter of survival for many teens. The demands of teachers, peers, and parents seemed never-ending and often overwhelming.

Sophomore year seemed like an extension of that immaturity. I once heard someone describe sophomores as merely freshmen who know where the bathrooms are. The need to fit in and pursue popularity are easy pits to fall into as students become aware of the social tiers and ladders that exist to define and control them.

Oddly enough, the frustrating social walls we resent during the first two years of high school only exist because we create them and subject them upon ourselves. They are perpetuated by insecurities and teen angst, and only begin to dissipate once we begin to mature from within.

And as we mature, as we own our beliefs, something interesting happens. Suddenly the lines that define us fade away, suddenly we do not care as much about what others think of us, and suddenly we realize that we like ourselves. And then we learn to get along.

It’s a process that starts somewhere in our junior year and leads all the way to the end of senior year. Anyone can notice how during senior year there no longer exist the same borders that had before existed. We learn to possess important qualities like confidence and respect for each other and for ourselves.

We learn to take responsibility for ourselves and what’s more, we learn to o w n o u r o w n b e l i e f s a n d b e considerably more tolerant of the beliefs of others.

The dependency that we had on others to either validate us or make us feel appreciated changes as our shyness or self-consciousness fades and our confidence grows, and we rely on each other not for validation but for companionship.

The gigantic social leap we make in our four years of high school is only the one stage in our journey to adulthood, with college and professionalism no doubt having their won learning and maturing experiences in store for us as we make our way through the wonderful process of growing up and co-existing together in a world we all share.

A SIMPLE QUESTION: WHAT’S THE BIGGEST DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE FRESHMEN YOU WERE THEN AND THE SENIOR YOU ARE NOW?

The biggest difference between the freshman I was

and the senior I am now is the way in which I view

God. When I was a freshman, I saw God as someone to be confronted when I needed something. Now, I'm

understanding more my need for knowing Him

Personally — Branyn Ortiz

Truly the largest change between my freshman self and the senior me is that I can honestly say I stand for

something in a world in which many are searching for direction. I now am a follower of Jesus Christ, my Lord

and Savior.— Justin Poulson

The biggest difference in my life is that I have a real relationship with God and that I am living a life that is guided and directed by Him and not me because He holds it in His hands.

— Paige Homan

Looking BackBlake Butterfield

• • •

They say hindsight is 20/20, but my senior year has gone by in somewhat of a blur. So much has changed, so much has happened. Thankfully, so much the better. Looking back on my high school and my senior year I realize that there is much that I would have liked to do, and would change if I could. Perhaps if I hadn’t injured my shoulder, I’d still be in wrestling. Perhaps if I’d worked harder, I’d be going straight to a four year college.

Yet somehow, each year, I’ve finished as a far better person than I was the previous year. This year hasn’t been a glorious finish, no flying colors or banners with my accomplishments l isted on them, but I ’ve found something more subtle than that. It’s a sentiment that draws meaning from earlier in my life, in grade-school. So, if you won’t deduct points for straying away from my high school experience for just a moment, perhaps you’ll see how my high school experience was emphasized by previous years of school...

When I was in the third grade, my teacher, Mrs. Loraine Rogers, diagnosed me with ADD. I did not understand; I had an “A” letter grade in all my subjects, and furthermore, I enjoyed school. My parents were upset to say the least, they knew I didn’t have ADD. Despite my parent’s mumbles and grumbles, Mrs. Loraine had me take a special test. I was called out of class and into the office everyday after lunch, where I would meet with a pleasantly plump old lady names Mrs. Howard who was always in a cheerful mood. I enjoyed testing; to me it felt as if I were getting out of class to play games.

Ultimately, I had initiative to pass these exams. I knew what ADD was before this. I knew ADD was Daniel Morlach. Daniel Morlach was the

trouble maker in school. He was too hyper, and sometimes our teachers would lose their patience when he wouldn’t settle down. He had ADD, and took medication from the nurse’s office very day at the same time. Even my parents knew who he was. “Mommy, why does he act that way? Why does he take Medicine?” My parents told me why, and I thought to myself how sad, I wouldn’t want to be that, I wouldn’t want to have ADD. I was not going to have ADD.

When the test results came in , everyone saw what I already knew: I had passed the test and most certainly did not have ADD. In fact, I had passed with flying colors. According to the results, I had eighth and ninth grade skills in Science, and post high school Scores for parts of the English section. My visual short-term memory retention skills were only average, but it didn’t make a difference to my parents. They were proud of me, and that made me proud. Mrs. Loraine was wrong, I was right.

It was only later that I asked myself why did Mrs. Loraine diagnose me in the first place? Am I staying on task? Do I complete all my work? Can I really pay full attention, or might there be something wrong with me? The m i s g i v i n g s a b o u t m y m e n t a l soundness proved to be a dangerous stumbling block in nearly every year of high school. Why did I not turn in that assignment? How come I didn’t do my homework? Why am I typing this essay at ll:45 p.m., the day before it is to be collected? What started off as a small thorn in my side turned into a giant monster riding on my back. Everything that went wrong was more proof that I really wasn’t good enough. As I d e s p e r a t e l y m a d e u p m i s s i n g assignments, other classes were not receiving their much needed attention. Soon I would have just as much “make up” work as homework. I would find myself trying to juggle far too many

things at once. I would begin shutting d o w n , c o m p r o m i s i n g , a n d procrastinating. Each year, my parents would flip out, and each year, I would somehow do just enough to meet my lowest standards. Every year I dip just low enough to know exactly what it is I didn’t want to be. I see others who are failing and think to myself how sad, I wouldn’t want to be that.

These past four years have been trying, but I’ve learned a lot about myself. Each year I find that I can actually do more than I constrain myself to doing. And just like that ADD test, I know I’m way better than what I’m being tested for. And I won’t have it.

It’s almost summer. I’m tired and I want it to be over. Life during senior year specifically has been busy, and while I can’t complain about the new and wonderful responsibilities I’ve got this year as a senior in high school, I can’t help it if I’ve gotten a little worn out every now and then. Lord knows I would have never have gotten through even half a week without some kind of help. The love and support I’ve received from my friends, family and leaders is invaluable. For every source of encouragement I will always be grateful. There were several points during the year where I was worried and stressed out. Between managing a Christian Bible club and leading a small group of freshmen on Wednesday nights at church, going to church on Sunday’s and Friday’s while still attempting to pay attention in class and complete homework, working two jobs while still finding at least some time to sleep at night, I’ve strived to still find time to spend with my friends. God knows I’ll miss them when they go off to the four year universities of their choice.

At the very end of my senior year, as I draw up whatever energy I have left to finish off high school, I believe I can look back and say it has truly been the time of my life.

Reflecting on High School

Blake Butterfield Poet• • •

Although but for a season it does last,I’ll hold remembrance of it through the years.And even when experience is past,Its soft impressions leave an imprint clear.

Of careless afternoons from summer daysWith all of the best friends you ever madeWhen reality can vanish with the hazeA temporary respite in a way

There is no need to long for time that’s pastSince when this year has come around the bendWe’ll have one more until our lives at lastGo different ways to mark a seasons end.

I’m not exactly sure how that will beBut I’m not worried, I’ll just wait and see.

Strange and bemusing it is to find out that many adults actually know what they are talking about. There are several teachers I’ve had about whom I can say have taught me a valuable lesson or two that had nothing to do with the subject they teach. On the few occasions I’ve

been able to relate to my teachers on a personal level I have been amazed to find out how insightful and wise the things they have to say can be. And whether they know it or not, a lot of what they say sticks.

She was Right?!

SOME OF THE COUNSELORS Not all the people there were from my church, and I was able to make friends with several new people Here’s me with a few old friends and a few new ones as well.

THE POWER POINT My friend Andrew (left) and I get ready demonstrate how to properly navigate the obstacle course for the Junior High Olympics, a camp tradition that has been recognized from generation to generation.

MY PASTOR Mark Allen (right) and I. Mark was my Bible teacher in seventh grade and has been a mentor for me ever since. He’s been an encourager for me all throughout my high school experience.

“By senior year, you’re going to realize

that you really like who you are, and you’re not going to worry what other people think.”

--Ms. Marietta (Freshmen

Honors English)

Seasons

July 2008, I had the opportunity to be a camp counselor at a Junior high camp for my church. I remember going to the same camp when I was in junior high, how much fun it was, and how much I remember looking up to my own counselors. That I was able to be one of those counselors is a joy to me. Together, with a few of my friends and several busses full of kids, we trekked up into the mountains for a retreat. It was a wonderful time I’ll always remember. The joy of being given a position of authority and responsibility coupled with the humility in recognizing that many of the junior high kids looked up to me was an experience I will cherish.

Junior High Camp -- Summer ’08

Blake ButterfieldColumnist

• • •

SO THIS WEEKEND WAS AN INTERESTING ONE FOR ME. I DIDN’T EXPECT TO GET ARRESTED, THAT’S FOR SURE.

My cousin Mario stayed over at our house this weekend because his parents were out of town. He’s an awesome kid, he’s 16 and we had a lot of fun hanging out together.

Friday night was fun; I went to Paige’s house ate some ice cream with Paige, Hannah, Branyn, Dorri, and Charlie. Mr. Homan and I fixed a chair with our manly use of tools. And we finally finished that Lord of the Rings marathon that we started forever ago.

I got home close to 2:00 in the morning and fell into the sweet embraces of my soft pillow. I woke up at 7:00 Saturday morning to go work at the Library for four hours. 300 shelved books later I arrived home and my Mom decides to take Janesse (my sister), Mario, and I to Nordsrom Rack so I can find some new jeans. You see, For some reason my two pairs of nice jeans have developed several holes in the keister area, which is extremely tragic for me...

I didn’t find any jeans. =(But we did run into Mr. Cox. He’s the

teacher that sponsers the Christian Bible Club. I met his wife, who is a lovely lady, and we all talked for a while about the Christian Bible Club and how blessed we are this year. Hallelujah!

Saturday Evening rolls around and we’re bored. Mario and I decided to drive to the elementary school and skateboard/ run around on the roof for a while. Too bad that the jerk who lives

across the street decided to call the police on us.

Let me tell you about this guy. This man has a backyard that overlooks the school, so he is naturally the best candidate to be our unoffic ia l neighborhood Watchdog. And that’s what he is. He has called the cops on kids several times before and is even known to have called just to tell the police that there’s someone parked in front of a fire hydrant. Yeah, that guy.

As Mario and I were walking back to the car, Mr. Jerk was waiting for us with his arms crossed and a “Gotcha” smirk was plastered all across his stupid face. He says, “You can either run now or wait until the sheriff arrives to arrest you, but I already took down your license plate number.”

Crap.

Of course he didn’t consider the third option where Mario and I do some street justice... Just kidding. But the thought crossed my mind. Luckily I’m a much better pugilist of words.

As I contemplated what kind of things they’d do to me in prison, Mr. Jerk goes on a rant about how he’s a taxpaying citizen who doesn’t tolerate m a r a u d i n g t e e n a g e r s l i k e u s destroying thousands of dollars worth of school property and blah blah blah. So maybe I skidded slightly in the parking lot and was running around on the roof a little bit, but so what? Can’t you loosen up?

Honestly I was being very polite in my Blake sort of way, trying my best not to give this guy something else to go on a rant about. Because honestly, his rants aren’t that original. Anyways,

after I didn’t give him my name so he c o u l d “ r e p o r t m e ” t o t h e superintendent of my high school, Mr. Jerk decides to walk back up to his backyard so he can watch me get my hands cuffed from the comfort of his own home.

First thing I did was call my mom to tell her I was in trouble. She came over and we pointed out where Mr. Jerk was sitting. Mom got out of her car and exchanged a few words with him, and he repeated the same patriotic speech he’d delivered to me earlier. I told my mom she could go home; I’m an adult, I should deal with this myself. Time to face the music.

As I sat there waiting for the police to arrive I had some time to think. Even t h o u g h M r. J e r k w a s b e i n g a cantankerous and wholly contemptible person in the way he was treating both me and Mario, I supposed it was within his rights to call the police on me. I’m not one to deflect the responsibly of my own actions and will in fact admit it when I have done something wrong.

But still, I was a little miffed that he couldn’t have just come down himself and talked to me directly, at least as a first offense kind of warning. But this man is cruel in nature, he wanted to see me pay. Fine.

After waiting for about an hour and still no arrival of the police, I began to wonder if this guy had really called them in the first place. I walked over to within yelling distance of his backyard and hollered over to him, “Excuse me, sir?”

“What do you want?”

An experience worth remembering: A Very Interesting Weekend

continued on next page

“I was just wondering. When you called the sheriff, did you call 911 or did you call some other number?”

“I called dispatch directly”

“Well, can you give me the number for dispatch?”

“Why don’t you ask your dad, since he’s a sheriff?”

“Ah.... actually sir he’s not an officer just yet, and he’s not even here for me to ask. You are. So I’ll ask again: can I please have that number?”

“What do you want it for?”

“I just want to call and ask them if they’re on their way”

“You can go find it yourself!”

“Well I’m asking you for it. If you want to be rude to me because you don’t like me, that’s fine, but I’m not sure if that’s the best thing for you to be doing right now”

Mumbling to himself, Mr Jerk goes into his house to ask his wife if he’s allowed to give me the phone number. From the depths of her dark murky lair I hear her high raspy response to his question: “What should you do that for!?!?”

Que whiplash sound.

So I go back to my car, call 411, get the number, and call dispatch.

“Yes, we’ve received a call and expect an officer to arrive shortly.”

Crap. “O.K. Thank you.”

I’m waiting to get arrested. Mrs. She-Devil (wife of Mr. Jerk) emerges from her lair of despair and yells “Stupid!” down toward me and Mario... a very crafty insult.

My dad arrives. He laughs at me. I laugh with him. We wait together.

Finally Officer Reets shows up. He’s wearing a pair of Oakley sunglasses so you can’t see his eyes. As he exits his patrol vehicle, Officer Reets asks me if I know why he’s here.

“Yes sir.”

Officer Reets nods up toward the direction of Mr. Jerk and asks if that is the man who observed me peeling out in the parking lot and running around on the roof.

“Yes sir.”

Hiking up his black leather utility belt, Officer Reets looks back toward me and says, “Good. That guy is one annoying son of a gun. He called my dispatcher thirty minutes ago and yelled at her because he thought I was taking too long to get here.”

“Yes sir.”

“Every time this guy calls, he’s wasting our time. I was dealing with a domestic violence incident before this,

and honestly I don’t really care that you were on the roof, accept that you could have gotten hurt.”

“Yes sir.” By this time I was smiling.

Officer Reets, my dad, and I start making conversation about the Police Academy and Law Enforcement, and soon my mom and my sister arrive to join the mix. We are all talking jovially about life in general, laughing and getting to know each other a little better. =D

Mr. Jerk comes down to give officer Reets a piece of his mind.

As he begins round three of his worn out Tax-Payer-Citizen’s-Duty speech, Officer Reets shuts him down and reprimands him for being “verbally abrasive” to his dispatcher, and warns him to stop wasting his time.

YES!As Mr. Jerk limps back toward his

house, not doubt to receive several spankings from his wife, our little gang shakes hands with Officer Reets and we all head home for dinner.

Happy Ending.

A Very Interesting Weekend

My Father, me, and my grandfather as my dad graduates from the police academy

Blake Butterfield• • •

JOSEPH PRIESTLEY, THEOLOGIAN AND SCIENTIST OF 18TH-CENTURY ENGLAND, ONCE SAID, “THE MORE ELABORATE OUR MEANS OF COMMUNICATION, THE LESS WE COMMUNICATE.” Those of us born after 1990 have never known a time without the internet. Today we have Twitter, AIM, Myspace, Facebook, and text messaging. E-mail is almost dead, and with it the last remnants of articulation, where one could thoughtfully express his thoughts in more than four lines. We’ve traded in meaningful dialogue for the much more fast paced exchange of LOLs and OMGs via IMs and text messages.

Scroll through the News feed on your Facebook page and you’ll realize just how public we make our lives. And yet, at the same time, it seems as though we are isolating ourselves from the rest of the world by spending so much time communicating with each other indirectly.

Meaningful face-time with friends is a rare thing these days. Experts have warned that teens growing up with social networking sites may be unable to form lasting relationships. You can argue with your girlfriend or boyfriend all night and change your Facebook status to “single” in the next morning without ever actually seeing the person. Communication technology today is fast paced, keeps us constantly connected, and its effects are broad and far reaching.

People act differently when they are online; a person can create a new identity that seems to contrast sharply with how he is perceived in real life. This is especially true in the more public scope of networking sites

like Facebook. Facebook is a sort of theater, with each person starring in his own self-created drama or comedy about his life. As actors, we play our parts, delivering new lines each time we comment on a photo or leave a message on someone’s wall for all to see. Each status update is like our own little soliloquy to the anonymous audience of about 150 friends.

But we never really say anything. As Ray Bradburry described it in his novel Fahrenheit 451, everyone talks a lot about nothing at all. And it is rendering this generation less capable of communicating effectively when face to face. Dr Himanshu Tyagi, a psychiatrist at West London Mental Health Trust commented on the psychological effects of social networking, “If you can’t see the person’s expression or body language or hear the subtle changes in their voice, it shapes your perceptions of the interaction differently...the new generation raised alongside internet is attaching an entirely different meaning to friendship and relations, something we are largely failing to notice.”

Perhaps it can be said that social networking is a source of the decline of what are now an almost forgotten set of social skills. “Myspace Drama” has been the source of much teen despair, but in the extreme, can be deadly.

On October 17, 2006, a thirteen year old girl named Megan Meir from Missouri committed suicide by hanging. Her death was attributed to cyber-bullying through a fraudulent Myspace account run by several people, including the mother of a former friend of Megan.

It would seem that, like almost any new technology, facebook and other social networking sites have the capacity to be used for both good and evil. For the most part, social networking sites are a supreme waste of time and may even be, according to some sources, rendering a generation incapable of interacting effectively in a tête-à-tête capacity.

Whether or not Facebook has had indelible effects on our attention spans is arguable, but it seems obvious that it has at least had some negative effect on teenagers during high school. Ability to focus on specific tasks and prepare in advance for assignments with specific due dates has declined in the past ten years, and many students will not hesitate to tell you that much of their time can be wasted participating in the intriguing and altogether alternate social realm of technology.

My most frequently used means of communication technology

1. Texting

2. Facebook

3. AIM

4. Myspace

5. E-mail

6. Telephone

7. Twitter

8. Snail Mail

9. Tin Can Radios

10. Carrier Pigeons

Let’s Talk

an interview with Mom and Dad• • •

WHAT DO DAD AND I HAVE IN COMMON?MOM: You both have the same personality. You both show a sense of humor and social tendencies. You’re both outgoing which I admire because I’m not.

WHAT DO MOM AND I HAVE IN COMMON?DAD: You both like to talk talk and talk some more. You like the same movies and T.V. programs. You both need to get the last word in on every conversation. You are both amused by my personality. You both love ice cream and chocolate.

WHAT DO YOU AND I HAVE IN COMMON?DAD: we both like to fight, we have those type “A” personalities and we like stuff like guns. For the most part we aren’t easily led by other people, and we both speak our minds. We like to stick up for the underdog.

MOM: You always stood up for the underdog in school, it would worry me when you would confront the bigger kids.

HIGH SCHOOL: WHAT DID YOU LEARN?DAD: That education is a shameful thing to waste. I didn’t try very hard in school. The majority of the people I thought were my friends I never communicated with again.

MOM: I felt like I increased my responsibilities, and I learned how to take care of myself. When I was in high school, I worked and pretty much took care of my self... at an early age since I come from a family of thirteen children I had to take on responsibility. My parents didn’t really push me or anything. I bought my own car when I was about fifteen,

I had to buy my own clothes.... pretty much whatever I needed. I had to work and go to school. In high school I learned some skills like word processing.

WHAT GOOD CAME OUT OF HIGHS SCHOOL?DAD: I can relate to a lot of what you go through as a teenager. I understand how hard peer pressure can be. One thing I’ve learned from high school is success is something you have to work for. If success came easy, then everyone would be successful.

TAUGHT ME?MOM: We’ve tried to teach you how to have manners. We tried to teach you to do things yourself. Whenever you wanted a new toy at McDonald’s, we told you to ask for it yourself. To be assertive. I taught you how to drive a stick shift. I tried to teach you the importance of saving your money. That’s why we made you save up for your own car. I think that teenagers who are just given things like that don’t learn anything, but making you save up for your own car taught you the value of money and made you appreciate your car anymore.

WHAT PART WAS THE MOST FUN?DAD I had a lot of fun when you were smaller. I remember the day I came home and the first day you walked. I’d put you on my stomach, and you’d fall asleep while listening to my heartbeat. I’d put duct tape over your mouth and throw you into the closet. Just kidding.

MOM: taking you on vacations, I remember how important I thought it was to teach you how to swim so you wouldn’t drown. I had a lot of fun teaching you how to spell before you started school. It was fun reading a lot of books to you books and teaching you grammar and how to spell. And it

helped. It got you interested in reading books. You learned so fast!

WHAT DO I STILL HAVE TO LEARN?DAD: A lot. You will need to learn how to take care of yourself. Life is a complete learning experience. You’ll learn how to raise a family and it is my hope that you will outdo us in every way.

MOM: You still need to learn how to take care of yourself financially. I still pretty much take care of you. Think about how what you do now will effect your future. What you do now decides whether your future will be easier or harder. Take good care of yourself, that way you can take care of your loved ones and everyone around you. If you do that, you will be able to make your family happy. The choices you make directly effects us, too.

ANY ADVICE ON FAMILY?MOM: When your picking a wife, really get to know her and what is in her heart. Find out if she genuinely loves you and genuinely loves God.

HOW HAVE YOU CHANGED SINCE HIGH SCHOOL?DAD: I learned to grow up in the military. I learned how to be responsible for myself and others. You’re going to need to learn to deal with people you cannot stand. I learned it’s not all about me when I had a family and had to learn to take care of more than one person.

MOM: I’m more confident. In high school I wasn’t sure as to whether or not I could succeed. Getting to know life, people, reality, and experience in life caused me to be more confident that I can do what I put my mind to doing.

Mom and Dad, What Do You Think?

A Descriptive PaperBlake Butterfield

• • •

I HAD BEEN ATTENDING THE SAME SCHOOL SINCE FIRST GRADE. I had grown accustomed to even the smallest details of the campus. The kids that went there with me; I knew them, and they were almost like a second family. The ladies in the cafeteria had always been there, serving up delicious hot portions of bean and cheese burritos, each pinto bean like a mountain of savory flavor, buried under avalanches of melted, greasy cheese. It was like home to me, and I had become a part of Calvary Chapel of Costa Mesa. It was a forty minute drive with my father and sister, and I had to wake up before the sun, but it was worth it. My dad didn’t mind because it was on the way to work, and I didn’t mind because when the sun did come out, with golden rays of warmth that made the darkness hide again, it always embraced me with warm arms, and made me excited about the day.

School started at 7:05, but I was always sure to be there early so I could talk with the close group of about six friends I had made through the years. There was always something to talk about, mostly because we knew each other so well that it almost seemed we had started thinking the same same way. We carried on in casual, carefree conversation until it was time for first period. Our friend the janitor would walk out with a mighty brass bell that looked almost too big to carry. When rung, it emitted a loud, permeating, deep metal sound that reverberated through every little nook and cranny, and could be heard clear across the other end of campus. As the sound of the morning bell vibrated through the

hallways, students would begin making their way to their classrooms, as if they were hypnotized by its rhythmic command.

School life was fairly simplistic; I maintained a high grade point average, and I got along with nearly everyone at school. My friends were extremely smart, and my choleric personality required me to compete to match their grades. I immersed myself in books, diving into every short fictional series I could find. I remember spending late winter nights curled up by the soft flames in my fireplace, flames like indefatigable little children that danced and played; they sparked m imagination and fueled my ambition to get lost in a book. I was smart and I loved it. My parents loved it, too. They praised my academic achievements I soaked it all up like a happy little sponge. After a while, my parents came to expect straight A’s out of me, which pressured me to prove to them that I could be successful.

Everything changed when I was in eighth grade. When my cousin graduated form Calvary as the Valedictorian, then promptly flunked out of college the next year, my parents seriously questioned the academic stamina of my school. They scared me with what had happened to my cousin, and convinced me to enroll in public school after junior high was over. At first, I didn’t think much about changing schools, but after I had time to digest it all, it occurred to me that I was leaving everything behind. Id‘ never again hop out of my dad’s car at 6:40 in the cool morning, step onto the fresh grass of Calvary Chapel, leave behind a trail of broken grass as I gathered the pearly dew on the bottom of my

shoes so that it left a short trace of wet footprints as I took a shortcut through the cafeteria, filled with a heavy confusion of intermingling smells of burnt pizza and sizzling beef patties that produced such a dense smoke as they sizzled on the grill that my eyes swelled with tears and my vision became blurred until I made it to my friends and said hello.

My thoughts about leaving the school had become overwhelmingly ambivalent. I had to convince myself countless times that going to public school would be the next best step to take, but I couldn’t help being afraid of entering of entering a completely foreign environment. These thoughts played around the edges of my conscience like a slithering red snake that fed off of my fears and doubts about my future. I pushed these thoughts out of the way to let them fester and insisted that everything was going to work out okay.

Summer came and rushed right past me, leaving behind a distinct sonic boom that echoed through my mind as I imagined what my new school would be like. I had reached the point of no return, and change was inevitable. I remember registration; it was the first time I had seen the Trabuco Hills High School. The campus was enormous, and the tall two story buildings stood menacingly erect, almost as if looking down and scrutinizing my every move. I remember feeling ridiculously obvious, as if everyone here knew everyone else and I was somehow crashing the party. The first day of school was frightening, because I was not used to such a tremendous crowd of people. I felt helplessly lost in the swirling sea of bodies, and had to swim against a steady stream of

My Journey Into High School

AND HOW I CAME OUT BETTER

students in order to avid being late to my classes. The food at the cafeteria was bland and unappetizing, and the line was so long it hardly seemed worth the trouble. I spent the first couple of weeks in the library, pretending to be doing something important. The few friends I had made seemed detached, and I didn’t feel as if I actually knew any of them.

My parents must have noticed a change in my attitude, because my father convinced me to join the wrestling team during the third week of school. I instantly fell in love with the sport, because it allowed me to vent my anger and frustration into something productive and useful. I felt vividly alive while training hard under the harsh leadership f our coaches, and finally made a couple of people who seemed to have personality.

Still, I couldn’t rid myself of the haunting feeling that I didn’t belong here. I just couldn’t connect with people the way I had at Calvary Chapel. My grades took a downward spiral, and I began to lose my motivation to excel in school. When my parents received my report card, there wasn’t a single noteworthy grade. Their faces became grave, and they told me I was going to transfer back into Calvary Chapel.

Now here was the perfect excuse I had needed. Up to that point in time, my whole life had been made up of excuses. When things got too rough, I always found a way out. It would have been typical to simply tell myself that public school wasn’t for me, and that I would do better where I was comfortable. But I realized something that first year, and it is something that I will never forget. If I am ever to succeed in life, staying where I am comfortable will get me nowhere. Sometimes, life is about taking risks, stepping out and meeting new

challenges with unwavering determination. If I shut down, compromise, or procrastinate when I feel that life is too much, I will never achieve my highest goals. I stayed here at Trabuco Hills High School because I know that an indecisive mind can only hurt me.

Sophomore and most of Junior year were largely devoted to finding my place at this school; I still felt I didn’t fully belong here as much as I simply put up with public high school. It wasn’t until I stopped searching for the answers on my own and finally turned for God for help that I was able to find a purpose here.

It’s great how God can answer prayers immediately, and I only wished I had done so sooner than later. I didn’t realize it at the time, but God had reasons for putting me in Trabuco Hills High School. Toward the end of Junior year of high school was when I finally gave up my own foolish pursuits for fulfillment and asked God if He had anything in mind

for me. Almost immediately God gave me the opportunity to be an officer of the Christian Bible club, a place where I could put my passion for Christ to good work. I met some new friends whom are very close to me now, and will always be thankful for. I found my niche, as it were, and left behind all traces of bitterness that I may have been holding onto previously.

Someone once told me that adversity introduces a man to himself. My first two years of high school were a difficult transition for me, both spiritually and mentally, but I came away from those years having learned a lot about myself. I have learned that every new challenge hides a new opportunity, and that God’s hands are working in every situation, whether it is obvious to me or not. “I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.” --Philippians 3:12

OWNING MY CAMPUS

Even though I wasn’t sure why at fist, God had a plan for me in going to public school. My graduation photo reflects how proud I am to have finished high school at Trabuco Hills High.

Wrestling for me was a great way to put my energy to good use. I worked hard and to succeed in a sport, and learned a few cool throws at the same time.