"In the (Belated) Spirit of Valentine's Day, The high school telegraph staff would like to give some love and appreciation to..." -- the OSA telegraph staff
In the belated spirit of Valentine's Day, the high school Telegraph staff would like to give some love, appreciation, and flowers to...
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Girls who don't have girls to give flowers to -- Ava Rukavina, 10th grade
I want to give flowers to all the girls out there who don’t have girls to give flowers to – red roses to all those kids who lied about their celebrity crush at the sleepover, because they’re scared of the vicious cycle of middle school gossip; pink peonies to the lonely lesbians who pour their heart and soul into their leatherbound journal just to throw away the pages; fluffy white dandelions to the girls who aren’t sure who they are yet; pale ochre pansies for those who are finally satisfied with themselves and still searching far and wide for their other half; deep orange poppies for girls who have built up the courage to spill their feelings and still don’t have someone to celebrate with. Happy Valentine's Day.
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Good friends -- Bee Ahlers, 10th grade
The therapist friend. The friend who always checks on you. The friend who notices when you’re upset. The friend who puts you before them. The friend who would do anything for you. The friend who, even at their lowest, still puts in the effort to make sure you’re okay. And if you’re not, they’ll make you okay. The friend who pays for your meal even when you have the money and they barely do. The friend who makes playlists just for you. The friend who texts This made me think of you. The friend who will never leave you. And if you leave them they’ll be okay with that. Because it’s not like you gave anything to them in the first place. All you did was take. Take their energy, their happiness, their love, all given to you instead of themselves. Did you ever send them a text saying This made me think of you? Did you ever think that they needed support? Did you notice the sadness in their eyes when they asked how you were, hoping you’d ask them the same thing.
To the friend who buys their friends flowers, but has never once received them.
Well, friend, these flowers are for you.
A bouquet of flowers doesn’t even compare to what you’re owed. But I know you’ll appreciate them, because you know that I saw these and thought This makes me think of them.
***
Women Talking -- Declan McMahon, 10th grade
I want to give flowers to Women Talking, a recent film by Frances McDormand. It’s nominated for Best Picture at the Oscars, and yet it’s still not being talked about enough. It’s a story of overcoming tragedy and adversity, and leaving the only life they know behind in search of a better one. All the women of a Mennonite colony (who only know how to speak, not read or write) hold a long meeting to decide whether to leave, forgive, or fight the epidemic of rape spreading throughout the colony. Without too many spoilers, this is a film by women, about a true story of incredibly strong women. Check it out.
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Taquitos -- Elias Dickey, 10th grade
My love, my life
You've made so many show viewing experiences pleasurable
Satisfying my midday munchies
Curing my cravings
Learning that my love language is
Pasty chicken and oily tortillas
On this fateful day
You I send roses to
Emburdened with reciprocating
Your unconditional amour
Thank you
***
Matzo ball soup -- Viv Mansbach, 9th grade
Nothing says love like a steaming pot of matzo ball soup. Doesn’t have to be Passover, or the weekend. It just has to be one of those days where the color drains out of the world. That’s a matzo ball soup day, baby. Not that other people’s recipes aren't, but I’m just gonna say it; my matzo ball slaps. The blend of silky, salty broth, the fluffy, comforting matzo balls, carrots and celery and kale just the right amount of cooked. The key is in the matzo balls, how you form them. The time they spend in the fridge, fluffing up. Time the Jews couldn’t afford, once. I’m letting my matzo ball soup simmer for as long as I need. Because the result is worth it. I’ve heard, many times, about the people who show their love through food. My problem is that I show love so much it becomes redundant. I tell my sisters I love them as often as I tell them hello. The time I put into the matzo ball soup is for them, the eager expression on their round little faces as I place the bowl in front of them. This is flowers for matzo ball soup because it isn’t a holiday food. It’s an every week food, the best of the best, my favorite. And it has the capacity to bring levity to any situation, to soothe everyone around the table, to be heated up as a midnight snack and just do the trick. Matzo ball soup’s flowers would be baby’s breath, because both get better with time, to a point. That and also matzo ball soup has the capacity to make everyone feel as calm and cozy as a baby, safe within the soup’s warm embrace. So Happy Valentine’s Day, matzo ball soup.
***
Girls who don't have girls to give flowers to -- Ava Rukavina, 10th grade
I want to give flowers to all the girls out there who don’t have girls to give flowers to – red roses to all those kids who lied about their celebrity crush at the sleepover, because they’re scared of the vicious cycle of middle school gossip; pink peonies to the lonely lesbians who pour their heart and soul into their leatherbound journal just to throw away the pages; fluffy white dandelions to the girls who aren’t sure who they are yet; pale ochre pansies for those who are finally satisfied with themselves and still searching far and wide for their other half; deep orange poppies for girls who have built up the courage to spill their feelings and still don’t have someone to celebrate with. Happy Valentine's Day.
***
Good friends -- Bee Ahlers, 10th grade
The therapist friend. The friend who always checks on you. The friend who notices when you’re upset. The friend who puts you before them. The friend who would do anything for you. The friend who, even at their lowest, still puts in the effort to make sure you’re okay. And if you’re not, they’ll make you okay. The friend who pays for your meal even when you have the money and they barely do. The friend who makes playlists just for you. The friend who texts This made me think of you. The friend who will never leave you. And if you leave them they’ll be okay with that. Because it’s not like you gave anything to them in the first place. All you did was take. Take their energy, their happiness, their love, all given to you instead of themselves. Did you ever send them a text saying This made me think of you? Did you ever think that they needed support? Did you notice the sadness in their eyes when they asked how you were, hoping you’d ask them the same thing.
To the friend who buys their friends flowers, but has never once received them.
Well, friend, these flowers are for you.
A bouquet of flowers doesn’t even compare to what you’re owed. But I know you’ll appreciate them, because you know that I saw these and thought This makes me think of them.
***
Women Talking -- Declan McMahon, 10th grade
I want to give flowers to Women Talking, a recent film by Frances McDormand. It’s nominated for Best Picture at the Oscars, and yet it’s still not being talked about enough. It’s a story of overcoming tragedy and adversity, and leaving the only life they know behind in search of a better one. All the women of a Mennonite colony (who only know how to speak, not read or write) hold a long meeting to decide whether to leave, forgive, or fight the epidemic of rape spreading throughout the colony. Without too many spoilers, this is a film by women, about a true story of incredibly strong women. Check it out.
***
Taquitos -- Elias Dickey, 10th grade
My love, my life
You've made so many show viewing experiences pleasurable
Satisfying my midday munchies
Curing my cravings
Learning that my love language is
Pasty chicken and oily tortillas
On this fateful day
You I send roses to
Emburdened with reciprocating
Your unconditional amour
Thank you
***
Matzo ball soup -- Viv Mansbach, 9th grade
Nothing says love like a steaming pot of matzo ball soup. Doesn’t have to be Passover, or the weekend. It just has to be one of those days where the color drains out of the world. That’s a matzo ball soup day, baby. Not that other people’s recipes aren't, but I’m just gonna say it; my matzo ball slaps. The blend of silky, salty broth, the fluffy, comforting matzo balls, carrots and celery and kale just the right amount of cooked. The key is in the matzo balls, how you form them. The time they spend in the fridge, fluffing up. Time the Jews couldn’t afford, once. I’m letting my matzo ball soup simmer for as long as I need. Because the result is worth it. I’ve heard, many times, about the people who show their love through food. My problem is that I show love so much it becomes redundant. I tell my sisters I love them as often as I tell them hello. The time I put into the matzo ball soup is for them, the eager expression on their round little faces as I place the bowl in front of them. This is flowers for matzo ball soup because it isn’t a holiday food. It’s an every week food, the best of the best, my favorite. And it has the capacity to bring levity to any situation, to soothe everyone around the table, to be heated up as a midnight snack and just do the trick. Matzo ball soup’s flowers would be baby’s breath, because both get better with time, to a point. That and also matzo ball soup has the capacity to make everyone feel as calm and cozy as a baby, safe within the soup’s warm embrace. So Happy Valentine’s Day, matzo ball soup.
