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Winter 2019 Print Issue The Watermark - Compressed
Winter 2019 Print Issue The Watermark - Compressed
Winter 2019 Print Issue The Watermark - Compressed
THE WATERMARK
WATERSHED & LOCAL NEWS
Google XLab: Fostering Sparks of Curiosity MIIKAI TILTON
Engagement in schools is lacking. A recent study of Hundreds of inquiries structured around the phrase
over 900,000 public school students in the United “how might we…?” were drafted in response to the
States found that in 5th grade, 75% of students feel problems, solutions, and outcomes described in these
engaged—but by the time they reach high school, talks, among them:
THE ENTREPRENEURIAL “LaKeg…Kegs of LaCroix.” “Chopsticks, but each one is a mini fork.” “Communism (we
all share the million dollars).” “Bagged pickles (individually wrapped pickles).”
THE ABSURD “Mini pet giraffes (Large pet giraffes).” “Celery pizza.” ”Cat skis.” “Create a new species of ferrets.”
Painstakingly crafted to reflect an entire identity in under 650 words, the CommonApp’s personal essay
section is a notorious quandary most students must eventually face. As application deadlines approach, we
invite you to glimpse into the mundane, the life-altering, and the profound of Watershed’s 2020 class.
Dancing requires minimal conscious thought for me. It is an act of permission, allowing my temporal lobe to process
the music, causing my motor cortex, somatosensory cortex, basal ganglia, and cerebellum to send signals through
my nervous system leading to the contraction and release of my muscles to the beat. I imagine this process as a
multitude of little balls of light racing through a web of tunnels underneath my skin. The process is miraculous and
incredibly fascinating. I will forever be grateful to live in a body in which—at least so far—all of the many facets
function properly together to create movement.
As I travel the barren path and peer upon the windswept peak I scream “this land is my land!” For the rocks are
jagged, the cold is sharp, the legs grow weak and the mind faint. Still, the summit persists, maintains the space
where I witness the earth's curvature and the carelessness of the ever-changing clouds. As the leaves fall, the snow
and resilient wind sting my face, I remind my blistered lips and my bare chest that warmth is inevitable. I whisper in
the ear of my love, you make me question my mind and my looks, you cause me heartache when I feel you are upset,
however you kiss me softly and brush my cheek with your long dark lashes. Be that as it may, the fire cracks-n-pops
its secret language and I imagine the impossibility of the stars above. As I dance to my favorite song and watch my
paint evolve the canvasses vast nothingness I insist, “I am here now! This land is my land!”
Heavy flakes of ash drift up the crumbling mountainside, wafting over us and through our shuffling legs, leaving
streaks of chalky grey on our nylon pants. The sun is harsh, but a light breeze dilutes the heat. Stepping awkwardly
to the left, my Nikes just miss some mud. Stones and tattered shoes hold tarp roofs, from lifting off in the wind, so
they flutter against the mud and brick walls instead. I will call them houses for absence of a word to describe the
dwellings in rural Xela. They were more tarp than roof, more dirt than floor, and more heart than home.
We wandered around trailer parks, streets, stores, and restaurants to ask average women for interviews, phones in
hand. All we got were uncomfortable silences, averted glances, awkward laughs, and fidgeting hands. Interviewers
and interviewees alike tiptoed around the controversy. Up until then, my only exposure to right-wing politics had
come from vitriolic politicians. But here in Sterling, Colorado, we were determined to be kind, and, likewise, we found
our interviewees to be thoughtful and caring. It seemed we had all made a commitment to understanding each other
and recognizing our similarities. The hope of mutual compassion grew with each passing question.
A young boy’s scream rings out against a dissonant circus melody and the thuds of wooden props. A life-sized
marionette, face painted white, staggers toward him on its knees. An older boy—his brother, maybe—steps back for
a moment, seemingly unimpressed.
“She’s not real,” he says, smirking. “Also, they’re legally not allowed to touch you.”
They hurry towards the next room as it crawls closer, the older boy holding back the young one by his arm. “Slow
down!” he hisses as they round the corner.
As they step out of the room, the marionette backs up to the wall and slumps. We share unamused looks. I’ll spend
the rest of their time in this haunted house tiptoeing around in the shadows behind them, handing out painkillers,
band-aids, and water to a beaten crew.
Before my 8th grade year I actively shunned physically difficult activity, and paid no attention to what I was eating. I
was overweight and on the path to becoming obese. My parents tried to get me moving, but outside a once-a-week
swim class I was uninterested. My science teacher, Mr. Trasky, was the 8th grade basketball coach. As he was one of
my favorite teachers, my parents tried again and signed me up to play. I was pudgy and out of shape, and although
the two hour daily practices totally wiped me out, I always felt accomplished and happy afterwards.
From that time on, I slowly changed my life around health and exercise. I have adapted my eating habits from
careless consumption to foods that help my body grow and function. My exercise habits changed from nonexistent
(playing video games every chance I could) to waking up at 5 AM to complete workouts before school. In the past 4
years, my entire lifestyle has changed because of a whim of my parents to try basketball.
In 1817, the first bicycle was invented. Since then, it mile to operate (Cycling Benefits). The estimated cost
has undergone multiple drastic changes over the of congestion is $305 billion in the U.S. Biking
years. Once the safety bicycle—the basic template reduces congestion since it doesn’t add any cars. If
nearly all modern bicycles are built off of—was one lives under conditions that make it undesirable to
invented, it diverged into road bikes and mountain bike long distances, using a bike for close-range
bikes. However, it was quickly overtaken by the car situations still brings many of the benefits associated
since that was faster and more convenient. Now, it is with it.
Pourriez-vous me guider ?
Could you please help guide me?
Perdue et seul.
Lost and alone.
Locals of Chinatown often gather in Portsmouth Park to read, talk, exercise, sing, and play card games. An
estimated 500 families live in the 6,343 SRO (Single-Room Occupancy, one small room to sleep, eat, and
spend time) units in Chinatown. As SROs are so small and the park is so accessible, it’s been dubbed by
many as the “living room” of Chinatown. The atmosphere is thriving. At most times, there is someone singing
traditional Chinese music, accompanied by many on various instruments. Chinese elders slap down cards
and read daily newspapers. Throughout the 11/12’s San Fransisco trip, we saw many of the same elders
come back every day, presumably working the park into their daily routine. Elders, new immigrants, and
others with significant time to spend throughout their day (because they are not working) use the park to
find community and relax.
As I continue to make more observations about the people around me, the more I see the similarities and
blandness that surrounds me as well. Everyone does the same thing but in a different way. I believe that this is
what makes us human. By trapping ourselves in a cycle of wanting to be like those who surround us, it also
makes us boring and unhappy. This mosaic is the story of a man, who, like most of us, has gotten trapped in
his need to be the same as everyone else. The man is being cured of this need to be the same as everyone else
by the the most colorful part of the piece—the glasses. These glasses
are showing him the path to actual happiness. The reaction that you can
see in his eyebrows shows that he is learning something, that his entire
perspective is changing, and that now he can actually see.
I cut tessera (tile parts) into small pieces and placed them in the shape of a body, head and hair and assigned
certain colors to each section. The background was made up of opus tessellatum, a basic, linear pattern
designed to not draw attention. The scatteredness of the pieces that make up the man himself against the
plain background makes the him pop out of the piece, drawing all attention to his key details: his mustache, his
eyebrows, and his sunglasses.
The goal of the piece was to evoke some curiosity in the person looking at it. It is designed to make you
wonder what this man is feeling and/or actually seeing in this snapshot of his life. The process that I went
through building him was long and I had to make many artistically questionable decisions, such as trying to
grout the frames of his sunglasses and accidentally ruining some of it, deciding how large his head would be in
comparison to his body to make him pop out even more, and of course, throwing him to the ground. I believe
this process left me with an amazing mosaic and an even better message that I am truly proud to share with
whoever reads this statement: sentiment is truly overrated.
Heard in the Halls: Quips and quirks from the halls of Watershed
“Wherever you give someone advice, it’s always sound because you have to speak it.” - Jack B.
“If the Earth gets hit by a comet, is that the Earth’s comet section?” - Jack B.
PACKAGING An overarching theme among the PACKAGING Writers of the Watermark found
Watermark staff was a general dissatisfaction with Stauffer’s Animal Crackers’ red and blue packaging
the company’s rebranding efforts. The new bag off-putting. “This looks dangerous,” one writer
features a new logo, a wedge of cheese, and a couple commented, “it’s like firework packaging.” “It’s too
pieces of popcorn. It should be noted that the included flashy,” said another.
images of the popcorn was a “bad interpretation” and TASTE Stauffer’s Animal Crackers carry a weird
that the photo of real cheese was off-putting. “This aftertaste distinct to animal crackers. The taste of
packaging induces the wrong emotions. I feel scared animal crackers, to many, takes us back to our
and lonely,” claimed one writer. Others, by a childhoods.
initial impression, has a tangy smell. Though one NUTRITION The small bag contained 240 crackers,
party-sized bag, costing a pricey four dollars, was proving that the bag was extremely efficient as the
consumed entirely in one forty-five-minute meeting, company did not waste any space with air. “That is a
its taste was met with harsh scrutiny. One critic lot of crackers,” one writer declared. The 240 crackers
lamented the inconsistency of the cheese flavor from were repor tedly a good source of iron and
kernel-to-kernel; another alleged that it tasted like carbohydrates.
styrofoam. “The thing I do not like is if you eat too This snack contains a shocking amount of thiamine
many of them you get the weird creamy rim on your mononitrate, containing more of this ingredient than
mouth,” declared one writer. Others agreed, noting sugar or baking soda. In fact, it is the third largest
that the snack was also hard to consume without ingredient. “Why is there so much thiamine
water because the kernels “stick to the roof of your mononitrate in here?” we all asked. The empty
mouth.”
hallways did not provide a compelling answer.
NUTRITION Nutrition-wise, Smar tFood White TAKEAWAYS? “I love grinding off their little heads
Cheddar Popcorn is commendable. In addition to a with my teeth.” - Ari Dor
Mikai Tilton