Bridgewater College Digital Commons

Hudson, Miles

English

Missed Opportunities: An Analysis of U.S.-Argentine Relations During World War 2

Sheridan, Christian

Philomathean 
Volume 4 MMXXV: Secrets Article 48 
December 2024 
Winter Morning 
Christian Sheridan 
Bridgewater College, csherida@bridgewater.edu 
Follow this and additional works at: https://digitalcommons.bridgewater.edu/bc_philomathean 
Recommended Citation 
Sheridan, Christian (2024) "Winter Morning," Philomathean: Vol. 4, Article 48. 
Available at: https://digitalcommons.bridgewater.edu/bc_philomathean/vol4/iss1/48 
This Poetry is brought to you for free and open access by the Journals and Campus Publications at BC Digital 
Commons. It has been accepted for inclusion in Philomathean by an authorized editor of BC Digital Commons. For 
more information, please contact rlowe@bridgewater.edu. 
Winter Morning
By Christian Sheridan
Hair tousled and half-asleep she rests her head
against the window pane, a plush bear dangling
by one chewed ear. As I’m about to ask
what she is looking at, she turns, declares:
“The sky. It’s red just over there” and points
her bear for emphasis. But nuance counts
at both an early age and early hour,
so I say “Pink. It’s more like pink.” She cocks
her head and considers. “Yes, pink” she confirms,
and as if sure she always knew the difference,
returns to contemplate the view. One needn’t
be just turned three to wonder at the dawn
in January, but it helps. It must
help see the sunrise as potential, not
mere pattern. Looking past her light-outlined curls
I see how roofs and branches coalesce
from shadows to lines sharpening against
a brightening sky. As each detail resolves
to higher definition, morning brings
such clarity that I can only hope
will last throughout the day. But soon the sun
will finish its ascent, and we must start
as well: for her to daycare, for me some work
on lines that can distinguish pink from red
but can’t quite capture mornings like this one
which seem more numbered now than yesterday.
Christian Sheridan teaches literature at Bridgewater College


Winter Morning

Collins, Sydney

Philomathean 
Volume 4 MMXXV: Secrets Article 3 
12-5-2024 
Secrets Woven in Love's Embrace 
Sydney Collins 
Bridgewater College, scollins@eagles.bridgewater.edu 
Follow this and additional works at: https://digitalcommons.bridgewater.edu/bc_philomathean 
Recommended Citation 
Collins, Sydney (2024) "Secrets Woven in Love's Embrace," Philomathean: Vol. 4, Article 3. 
Available at: https://digitalcommons.bridgewater.edu/bc_philomathean/vol4/iss1/3 
This Poetry is brought to you for free and open access by the Journals and Campus Publications at BC Digital 
Commons. It has been accepted for inclusion in Philomathean by an authorized editor of BC Digital Commons. For 
more information, please contact rlowe@bridgewater.edu. 
Secrets Woven in Love’s Embrace
By Sydney Collins
In the dark corners of our hearts, secrets reside,
Where tender words and buried fears silently collide.
Love, a fragile echo, dances on the edge of night,
Between whispered vows and hidden fright.
What do we hide when we say, "I’m yours"?
What pain is buried behind closed doors?
In every kiss, a fear concealed—
A past untold, a wound unhealed.
I fear the moment you look too deep,
Where all my fears and failures sleep.
Do you love me, or love the dream—
The parts of me that seem pristine?
What secrets lie in silent hearts?
What shadows pull love's seams apart?
Every “forever” has a crack,
Every whispered “I love you” turns back.
Will you hold me when I’m undone,
When all my secrets bleed and run?
Love cannot exist in perfect light—
It rises from the depths of night.
For love is more than hearts entwined;
It's trusting you will still be mine,
When all that's hidden comes to be shown,
And we face our truths in the great unknown.
So lay your secrets bare to me,
And I will give you all of me.
Let’s find the beauty in the scar—
The truth of who we really are.
In every break, in every bend,
We find the strength to love again.
A love that dares to show its face—
That finds its grace in our embrace.
Sydney Collins studies Criminology and Psychology at Bridgewater College.


Secrets Woven in Love\u27s Embrace

Garber, Julia

Philomathean 
Volume 4 MMXXV: Secrets Article 29 
December 2024 
Blue 
Julia Garber 
Bridgewater College, jgarber3@eagles.bridgewater.edu 
Follow this and additional works at: https://digitalcommons.bridgewater.edu/bc_philomathean 
Recommended Citation 
Garber, Julia (2024) "Blue," Philomathean: Vol. 4, Article 29. 
Available at: https://digitalcommons.bridgewater.edu/bc_philomathean/vol4/iss1/29 
This Multimedia is brought to you for free and open access by the Journals and Campus Publications at BC Digital 
Commons. It has been accepted for inclusion in Philomathean by an authorized editor of BC Digital Commons. For 
more information, please contact rlowe@bridgewater.edu. 
Blue
By Julia Garber
I’m blue like you but you remind me of green
It’s new but so small is it anything real at all
If this song was a color you couldn’t hear it anyway
If only you knew what I know then my pain would go away
This song is blue but it should be red
These feelings inside, should be with us instead
I shouldn’t bare this alone
I should spread all the love
But alas the rules are made it up, and my time has come
How can I help you understand when I barely know myself ?
I can’t hide behind the fact I see you everyday and it’s detrimental to my health
I know I’m not the wisest and I don’t have all the answers but I’m stuck in glue
Do I tell you the truth to open your eyes or should you stay like you never knew
This song is blue but it should be red
These feelings inside, should be with us instead
I shouldn’t bare this alone
I should spread all the love
But alas the rules are made it up, and my time has come
Oh oh
I know I can’t tell you
Oh oh
But I want to
Julia Garber studies Psychology at Bridgewater College.


Blue

Dewan, Olivia

Philomathean 
Volume 3 MMXXIV: Where Our Dreams Take Us Article 7 
2-14-2024 
Starcatcher 
Olivia Dewan 
Bridgewater College, odewan@eagles.bridgewater.edu 
Follow this and additional works at: https://digitalcommons.bridgewater.edu/bc_philomathean 
Recommended Citation 
Dewan, Olivia (2024) "Starcatcher," Philomathean: Vol. 3, Article 7. 
Available at: https://digitalcommons.bridgewater.edu/bc_philomathean/vol3/iss1/7 
This Fiction is brought to you for free and open access by the Journals and Campus Publications at BC Digital 
Commons. It has been accepted for inclusion in Philomathean by an authorized editor of BC Digital Commons. For 
more information, please contact rlowe@bridgewater.edu. 
Starcatcher
Olivia Dewan
Stealing dreams and turning them into reality is a risky business, but damn, it pays well. I twirl
the dagger between my fingers as I stare out at the black surface of the Sea of Subconsciousness. The inky
water laps gently at the sides of my ship, The Dying Moon. With a hand on my hat, I tip my head back to
the sky, staring up at my bounty. The stars are bright tonight. They’re almost as shiny as the gold in my
pocket will be.
But I’m not here for just any star. I’ve tracked the rotation of the Sea for years, all in preparation
for this moment. Over my dead body will the Vespertine not be mine. She’s been hiding for centuries, as
the Sea is very protective of her. Too bad I’m exceedingly good at my job.
“Alright!” I call out, swinging my legs to the deck. “Get the gear.”
My crew leaps to life. They cork their bottles of rum and grab their grappling hooks. The
Vespertine will put up a fight, that’s for certain. I snatch my sun-soaked lasso from where it hangs on the
mast.
“Captain!” my second in command, Lasia, shouts as she runs to my side. “Have you found it?”
“Of course I have,” I reply with a grin. “We have exactly ten minutes before she surfaces.”
“I’ll get the weights ready.”
“Perfect.”
She skips away, and I shake my head with amusement, my fingers trailing over the iridescent
glass orbs on my belt. In exchange for reality, my crew sold me their souls. Their undying loyalty and
lives. I need them to hunt dreams. However, not everyone can harvest the stars on the Sea. As far as I’m
aware, there is only one other person aside from me with the ability.
My desk is overflowing with letters from people all over the realm, begging me to harvest them a
star. Some seek to wish for health, some wish to forget a lover, and some wish death upon their enemies.
If you can dream it, it can become reality, but only if I catch you a star. Stars themselves are slippery
bastards protected by the light of the moon, and the only thing that combats the light of the moon is the
light of the sun, hence my lasso.
I nearly had to sell my own soul to get my hands on it. Without it, I‘d be out of business. The
Dying Moon sails straight. The waves begin to grow in intensity. They lash at my railings, dumping the
black water onto my perfectly clean deck. My leather boots splash in the liquid as I cross to the wheel.
The moon mocks me, and I scowl right back. We fight each other constantly. The moon hates
when I steal her stars. She rallies the Sea in defense, trying to drag me and my crew to the depths. She
hasn’t succeeded once. The moon might be strong, but I’m a tenth-fold more determined. Money is the
biggest motivator known to mankind. Well, money and desire, and desire is what makes me rich.
“Captain, we’ve got trouble,” one of my crew says.
I don’t even have to turn to know who’s on our tail.
“Grab the guns!” I roar, my voice slicing through the furious hiss of the wind.
I let go of the wheel to rush to the side of the ship. Sure enough, another vessel races full speed
ahead, just off our end, her silver sails a beacon in the pitch black. Lasia curses next to me as she
reappears.
“Orders, Captain?” she asks.
I pause, waiting for The Gazer to pull parallel to us. When she does, my lips curl into a snarl.
“Fire.”
Lasia shouts my order back to our ship. Just like that, it’s all-out war. Shots crack off in rapid
succession. Gunpowder chokes the air. I touch my hips to make sure my twin pistols are loaded. The
Gazer, regardless of our very clear warning to back off, drifts closer.
“What are they doing?” Lasia demands.
We watch our rivals with shared hatred, waiting for their next move. The Gazer is known for their
unpredictable and reckless behavior. Tonight won’t be any different. Members of their crew grab onto
ropes and then jump.
I curse. “They’re boarding!”
“I’ve got this,” Lasia replies. “You get him.”
She leaps into the battle, a whirlwind of chaos and destruction. There’s a reason why she’s my
second in command. Mercy isn’t a word in her vocabulary. My crew clashes with The Gazers with the
force of a raging hurricane. Blades sing as they’re ripped from their sheaths. Lasia shoots me a bloody
smile full of teeth as she skewers her sword through the torso of an unsuspecting man.
I tear my eyes from the battle to scan The Gazer for my target. It’s difficult to see through the
haze of smoke and the spray of the angry Sea, but there he stands at the helm, staring right at me with a
smirk. The wind whips through the shells and trinkets woven into the locs of my hair. I slip one of my
pistols from its holster and cock the safety back.
I ignore the fight as I walk across my deck, the screams of the damned and dying all around me.
The blood and black ocean water mix together in a gruesome, gothic painting. I rip one of the ropes out of
the hand of a man trying to jump back to The Gazer. Planting my boot on his back, he soars overboard
with a hard shove. The Sea swallows him immediately, wrapping a watery hand around his waist and
pulling him to the bottom.
Yes, the moon is furious at us tonight. She knows what we’re here for. But I’d already have my
prize if he wasn’t here. I should’ve expected this. Of course, he would be after the Vespertine, too. The
biggest wish in the sky was nothing more than a legend a few weeks ago, and now, like all dreams in the
sky can be, it’s a reality. That reality is mine.
I step off the railing and fly through the air. Adrenaline sinks into my veins as I land in a crouch
on The Gazer. I’m swarmed immediately. Bang, bang, bang! Three shots from my pistol, three dropped
bodies. I stopped feeling the mental effects of the kills when I dreamed them away four years ago. That
was the first star I ever wrangled for myself. I couldn’t let the crew know what a mental toll it was on my
soul, so I did it in secret. I captured the star and burned it down to liquid with sunfire in my laboratory.
Sometimes, I can still feel the heat of the dream as it scorched its way down my throat, but now, taking a
life doesn’t even register.
With a flick of my wrist, I send my dagger into the heart of a woman who lunges at me. She
collapses to the floor in a growing pool of red. I pick my way through the battle, up the stairs, and to the
wheel, where he waits with his back turned towards me.
“Hello, Nasya.”
“Adonis.” I spit his name as it leaves a foul taste on my tongue. “By the ancients, if you keep
getting in my way-”
“The Vespertine doesn’t belong to anyone,” he replies automatically, his voice grating on my ears.
“Not until you capture it, at least.”
“Yeah,” I scoff. “Which is why you’re getting in my way.”
He hums and spins on his heel. “You say that, but I was perfectly content to sail right past your
ship. You fired first.”
“Oh, please. Don’t pretend like you weren’t loading up your cannons.”
“You always paint me to be the villain.” The sarcasm in his voice makes me want to scream.
A dry laugh escapes my lips, and it’s effortless to raise my weapon to the underside of his chin,
forcing his head back. Even with the barrel of my gun at this throat, his dark eyes simmer with
amusement. Like he doesn’t believe I would actually pull the trigger.
“Put the gun down, Nasya,” he demands.
“Why? Scared?”
“Well, there is a gun at my head.”
“The only thing you can blame is your poor decision-making skills.”
“Not your unhinged and rather unhealthy obsession with dropping my body into the Sea?”
Screams from below grow in intensity, a collective panic. Both Adonis and I shift just in time to
watch a massive wave crash over the decks of both ships. I gasp, drop my gun, and grab onto the railing
with all the strength in my body. We rock dangerously to the side. Men and women tumble into the Sea,
but the black of the water hides the blood. I curse as several of the orbs on my belt lose their glow. The
souls no longer have a body to support them.
“Stop stealing my crew!” I rage back at the moon.
Her only response is to send another wave that pummels The Gazer. I lose my footing, and my
hands slip. Breath flies from my lungs as I hit the wood hard. The Gazer continues to dip towards the
water. The tip of the sail sinks into the ocean, soaking the fabric. I slide across the deck and scramble for
anything to pull me back up.
Splinters catch under my fingernails. I bite back a shout of pain as my leg slams into a cannon,
but I manage to snatch onto a free rope hanging from the mast. I wrap it around my wrist, and the force
nearly pulls my arm from its socket.
“Nasya! Grab my hand!” Adonis shouts, holding onto the railing with one arm while reaching out
to me with the other.
“No!” I exclaim. “I’d rather die!”
Another wave rocks the ship. My hand slips down the rope with a coarse burn.
“Are you out of your mind?” he snaps. “I’m trying to help you.”
“I don’t want anything from you!”
“Fine. Have fun drowning.”
“I will, thanks.”
The ship jolts again, and I inch further down the rope. I’m an excellent swimmer. If I fall, I’m
sure I can beat the Sea. A wave leaps up and wraps around my ankle like a leash, then yanks. I screech
and kick, trying to dislodge the grip. It does nothing.
“Alright! I'll take it back! Adonis, pull me up!”
For a moment, I think he’s simply going to let the Sea take me to the abyss, and that is one of my
greatest fears. There are no fish or little crabs. It’s just pure emptiness, a bottomless, liquid pit of despair,
doubt, and dead dreams. I refuse to become a part of that. I’ll fight the entire ocean if I have to. A hand
latches onto the back of my shit and pulls me upwards.
Adonis drags me onto the railing with him. I sit panting, trying desperately to catch my breath.
“Are you going to say thank you?” he prompts.
“Nope.”
He scoffs. “Figures.”
“Nasya!” Lasia screams. “The Vespertine!”
Adonis and I stop arguing and turn our attention to the sky. Sure enough, the Vespertine has risen
from the ocean. She hovers only a few inches above the Sea, nearly as bright as the sun herself. Black
water drips from the sphere of swirling blue, green, and gold light and forces me to shield my eyes. I
don’t know if the battle pauses. I don’t know if we stop hacking away at each other with blades, but for
me, time ceases to exist. I place a hand over my heart to make sure it's still beating.
“We’ve got five minutes before she gets too high in the sky for us to reach,” Adonis says. “I
propose a temporary truce so we can trap her.”
“Why? So you can steal her from me? I found her first!”
“Even split,” he replies. “I get half, you get half. She’s powerful enough that her strength will be
beyond any other wish.”
I curse low under my breath. He’s right. We don’t have much time. I did not complete years of
research to let this opportunity pass. I make a split-second decision.
“Deal.”
We shake hands, locking eyes for just a moment before launching into action. From the other side
of the sinking ship, Lasia sprints across the wreckage with my lasso in hand. I race to meet her. Adonis
starts ordering our remaining crews around. Cannons are reloaded, not to shoot, but as weights. Lasia
throws the lasso. I snag it out of the air, and continue my dash to The Dying Moon.
I pull the lasso over my shoulder and use one of the ropes to swing back to my ship. When my
boots hit the deck, I’m off running again. I reach the mast and start the climb to the crow’s nest. By the
time I make it to the top, my muscles shake with exhaustion. I push myself upright and unwind the lasso.
Ignoring the ache in my arm, I swing the lasso above my head, gathering momentum until the
speed is dizzying. Golden light erupts, chasing back the dark. The wind picks up in an attempt to throw
me off course. It won’t work. This is my job, my livelihood. This is what I do. I will the lasso to fly true
with all my heart. I pour bits of my soul into the fibers. Then I let go.
The lasso cuts through the wind. It launches past the other stars as it slides through my fingertips
on a direct path to the Vespertine. My breath catches in my throat when the circle closes around the
sphere, and then all hell breaks loose. I throw my weight back against the mast as the Vespertine tries to
rip me from my ship, but I’m unprepared for the sheer strength this dream possesses.
My feet skid against the wood, and I dig my knees against the railing for balance. Shit. I’m not
going to be able to hold it for much longer. I uncoil the end of my lasso and throw it to the deck below.
Adonis, thankfully, is right underneath me to catch it. He ties the end around one of the loaded cannons.
With a nod in his direction, I start reeling the Vespertine in.
The skin shreds off my palms, but I don’t dare release my grip. As more slack gathers along the
lasso, Adonis drags the cannon back. Together, we pull the Vespertine to The Dying Moon. The star fights
me with everything it has. Sparks fly from where the sun-soaked rope sinks into its substance. But I am
stronger.
When the Vespertine is inches away from The Dying Moon, I jump from the crow’s nest. My
stomach rises into my chest from the drop, a grin on my lips from the thrill. I drag the star to the deck, and
it crashes with a bang. If I hadn’t crafted my ship out of the strongest wood known in all the realms, the
star would’ve plowed right through. My crew jumps back as I wrap the lasso around the star, subduing it
completely. It doesn’t fight anymore; it accepts defeat. I place my ruined hands on my hips and stare
down at my prize.
“Finally,” I breathe.
“Are you planning to melt her down now?”
“Later.”
“Who are your clients?”
“Too many to count. You?”
Adonis tilts his head to the side. “I wasn’t going to give her to anyone.”
“How selfish.”
“Oh? How much are you selling a bottle for?”
“Fair point.” I consider my next words carefully as I ask, “What would you wish for?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he replies.
We lapse into silence as we stare at the fallen star. It will take days to melt down, even longer to
bottle the liquid and sail to the ports where I can sell it. Adonis steps from my side and starts across the
deck to the cabins.
“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” I demand.
“My ship is totaled.”
“And?”
“And we still have our deal,” he replies. “You owe me half that star.”
“Yeah, but that doesn't mean you get to stay on my ship.”
“You’re not a woman known for keeping her word.”
“You don’t know a single thing about me,” I snap. “But fine. You and your crew can stay in the
holding cells.”
His jaw drops. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. You’re always more than welcome to remain with your vessel, as any good captain
would.”
“What vessel?” he says, gesturing to the what’s left of The Gazer with both hands. “She’ll
become part of the Sea any moment now.”
“Then I guess you better start making those holding cells a comfy place to sleep.”
Adonis rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”
I grin in victory. “Wonderful.”
He hesitates, and the words that come out of his mouth nearly knock me over. “Do you ever think
of what would happen if we joined forces?”
“Adonis, don’t mistake your desperation and my kindness for friendship. It won’t happen.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’m serious.”
“Yep.”
“Just… go away. Now.”
He holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m already gone.”
“And you owe me a new gun!”
He flips me off as he strides away. I shake my head and turn to the Sea, who has settled back
down. The waves are gentle once more; in fact, there’s hardly any movement. It mourns the loss of the
Vespertine, but that’s what happens when you release things from your subconsciousness. They can
become a reality that is easy to possess if you’re persistent enough to brave the storm.
Olivia DeWan studies Communications and Professional Writing at Bridgewater College


Starcatcher

Tiffany, Erica

Philomathean 
Volume 3 MMXXIV: Where Our Dreams Take Us Article 10 
2-14-2024 
Duality of Dreams 
Erica Tiffany 
Bridgewater College, etiffany@eagles.bridgewater.edu 
Follow this and additional works at: https://digitalcommons.bridgewater.edu/bc_philomathean 
Recommended Citation 
Tiffany, Erica (2024) "Duality of Dreams," Philomathean: Vol. 3, Article 10. 
Available at: https://digitalcommons.bridgewater.edu/bc_philomathean/vol3/iss1/10 
This Art is brought to you for free and open access by the Journals and Campus Publications at BC Digital 
Commons. It has been accepted for inclusion in Philomathean by an authorized editor of BC Digital Commons. For 
more information, please contact rlowe@bridgewater.edu. 
Duality of Dreams
Erica Ti any
Erica Tiffany studies Digital Media Arts at Bridgewater College


Duality of Dreams

Burzumato, Elizabeth

Philomathean 
Volume 3 MMXXIV: Where Our Dreams Take Us Article 42 
2-14-2024 
My Darling 
Elizabeth Burzumato 
Bridgewater College, eburzumato2@eagles.bridgewater.edu 
Follow this and additional works at: https://digitalcommons.bridgewater.edu/bc_philomathean 
Recommended Citation 
Burzumato, Elizabeth (2024) "My Darling," Philomathean: Vol. 3, Article 42. 
Available at: https://digitalcommons.bridgewater.edu/bc_philomathean/vol3/iss1/42 
This Fiction is brought to you for free and open access by the Journals and Campus Publications at BC Digital 
Commons. It has been accepted for inclusion in Philomathean by an authorized editor of BC Digital Commons. For 
more information, please contact rlowe@bridgewater.edu. 
My Darling
Elizabeth Burzumato
June 7th
My darling,
I graduated from high school today as the Salutatorian of our class. Ben says I would
have made Valedictorian if I hadn't needed to take so much time off from school last semester. I
wouldn't have minded not coming in first, except that the Salutatorian has to give the speech. I
had decided that the best way to survive this town was to just stay invisible until I could get out,
but this morning I had to stand in front of every single person I know. As I spoke about bravery
and integrity, I was almost deafened by the sounds of whispered rumors and stifled laughter.
Mom left as soon as the ceremony was over;she still can’t handle being around the gossip. Ben
and my dad were happy to pretend none of it was happening but, honestly, I just wanted the
whole day to be over. Only three more months until I can put this town in my rearview mirror.
I’m going to a beautiful little private college three states away. Nobody knows me there, and I
can finally start over.
All my love,
Jessie
November 26th
My darling,
I just finished my first semester of college! I almost got straight A’s; my mom even told
me she was proud of me. Ben came to visit a few weeks ago; it was the first time we’d seen each
other in months. Things felt different, not how they used to be. Introducing him to my new
friends wasn't what I thought it would be. He just doesn’t belong here. Ben lives and breathes
our hometown, and I guess I didn’t realize how much I had changed in just a few months. He
wants me to forget about you. Every time I bring you up, he changes the subject. None of my
new friends know about you, and I just wanted to talk to someone who might understand. But he
wouldn’t hear it. When he left, we decided it was best to put our relationship on pause. I think
I’ll always love him, but we aren't home for each other anymore. I hope you find someone
someday who makes you feel the way he used to make me feel. It is the most special thing in the
world when it is real.
All my love,
Jessie
September 4th
My darling,
I am officially an English major. I started working for the school newspaper, and I
absolutely fell in love. I think this might be what I want to do with my life. I met someone too,
he’s sweet and smart. I almost told him about you, but my sister told me I need to leave you in
my past. She said that’s why I made the decision that I did, so I wouldn't have to tell anyone
anything or try to awkwardly explain. So I could just be 18. He wants us to be intimate, but I
haven't been with anyone since Ben, not since everything happened. I’m not sure if I’m ready,
and I’m not sure how to set that boundary without exposing everything. What should I do, my
darling?
All my love,
Jessie
March 18th
My darling,
I graduate college in two months. I’m sorry I haven't written in so long. I took my sister's
advice and tried to put you in the past. I did the college experience: parties, late nights, lots and
lots of homework. But nothing could make me forget about you. That guy I was seeing didn't
work out. He said he could tell I was keeping parts of myself from him, and he grew tired of
waiting for me to trust him. He was right; I was keeping you to myself, and I didn’t trust him.
However, on the bright side, I have my own column in the newspaper, and I’ve been accepted
into a master’s program in Scotland. They think my writing has potential. I can’t wait to go.
All my love,
Jessie
October 4th
My darling,
Grad school is so hard. I have never written this much in my whole life. I guess that’s
what I get for pursuing a degree in writing, though. I was working on a short fiction assignment
and got total writer's block; suddenly, I was thinking about you. I miss you so much; it feels silly
to say it, but I do. Ben got married today. We haven't spoken in years. I’m happy for him,
though;he got what he’s always wanted: a simple life in our hometown and a bride to share it
with. I never told anyone this, but he asked me to marry him when we found out about you. I
just wasn't ready to give up on the idea of college and getting out. There are so many things I
want to do with my life, and they weren't going to be possible if I stayed and got married at 18. I
can’t bring myself to regret my decision, but I can’t bring myself to forget about you, either.
All my love,
Jessie
May 6th
My darling,
I graduated today with an MFA in writing. I stood next to the love of my life, Paul, as
we tossed our caps. He is absolutely wonderful, it's only been a year, but I can tell he’s my
forever. He is a writer too, science fiction too. Gosh, he’s such a nerd! I’m absolutely crazy
about him. I told him about you; he was very patient and kind and asked questions without an
ounce of judgment. He was the first person that I’ve told the truth since leaving my hometown.
It felt absolutely amazing. He said he’d love to meet you someday, and I said I would too. I got
a job working for a travel magazine so Paul and I are going to adventure around for a few years.
I feel like I am finally right where I want to be, and it’s because of you. You lit a fire in me, my
darling. You gave me a reason not to settle for less than everything I wanted. I gave you up so
that I could have a shot at achieving my dreams, and I knew that I owed it to you to do just that.
Thank you for giving me a reason not to give up.
I will love you forever,
Jessie
Elizabeth Burzumato studies Professional Writing at Bridgewater College


My Darling

This article will explore the profound impact of reading, utilizing Toni Morrison’s novel The Bluest Eye as a catalyst for students to create real-life connections that resonate with their own experiences. The love of reading is a transformative force that not only enriches the intellectual landscape but also serves as a powerful tool for fostering empathy and understanding. This article will demonstrate how reading empowers students and helps them find solace and strength in the realization that their struggles, dreams, and aspirations are not isolated but are woven into the fabric of a broader narrative in which students can reflect on their own lives. Furthermore, the act of reading instills a profound sense of agency in students. Through the characters, students witness the transformative potential of resilience, self-expression, and the pursuit of one\u27s identity. This article will explore how reading can become a guide for navigating the complexities of life, providing a roadmap for self-discovery, and empowerment

Boone-Hurdle, Shanda D

One of the basic fabrics of my family was based around reading. Mandatory bi-weekly
trips to the public library, a minimum of three books checked out per trip, and a book report to
follow that was our norm. Daily reading was common amongst the members in my home, be it
the newspaper, magazine, bible, or book. I loved reading and being read to, but it was not until
Mrs. Evelyn Edmonds's 7th-grade English class that reading moved from a love to an
indescribable, uncontrollable, intoxicating pleasure. It was in her class that I was introduced to
black writers. For the first time, I was reading about people who looked like me, who sounded
like me, and who behaved like me. I knew these people though we had never met. They were
my next-door neighbors, Sunday school teachers, family, and friends. We connected through
words on pages that danced in a rhythmic way that controlled my heart.
That is what I desperately want for my students. I do not just want them to simply read
and comprehend. I want the words to resonate in their souls. I want my students to make
real-life connections to their lives and the lives of others around them. I want to provide them
with an opportunity to feel that their voices and presence matter. Therefore, when I teach, I try
my best to open a portal that will allow creative expression and the development of an
individualized relationship with the text and its characters.
There are so many texts that allow for such an emotional journey. One text in particular
is Toni Morrison’s The Bluest Eye. From the moment that your eyes hit the pages all types of
emotions are unleashed.
Quiet as it’s kept, there were no marigolds in the fall of 1941. We thought, at the time,
that it was because Peacola was having her father’s baby that the marigolds did not grow.
A little examination and much less melancholy would have proved to us that our seeds
were not the only ones that did not sprout; nobody’s did. (Morrison, pg. 5).
Right there, those words, Peacola is having her father’s baby, your breath is sucked out
of you. Your body quakes for more and the students are hooked, ready to explore. Then with
further examination, you recognize the marigolds and seeds are symbols of something far greater
than that which grows from the earth.
"This soil is bad for certain kinds of flowers. Certain seeds it will not nurture, certain fruit
it will not bear, and when the land kills of its own volition, we acquiesce and say the victim had
no right to live" (Morrison, 206). Naturally, the flowers and seeds referenced in this quote are
really human beings. Basically, stating that certain environments are bad for certain people,
preventing them from being able to grow, live, and produce. This was the case for Peacola. The
town she was born in did not produce people who could see past the dysfunction of her family to
help a child. The society that she was born in was tumultuous as the fight for equality was
brutal. The generation that she was born in viewed her race and gender as unworthy and
unvalued. The family that she was born in had absorbed the loathsomeness that the world had
given them and tried to transform it into love but in the end, hate is hate and that hate was
displayed by this family in every way.
At this moment, my students had the opportunity to add their voices to the nature versus
nurture debate. They were allowed to display their outrage at a community that chose to watch as
a young girl’s life was being destroyed and for this same community to do nothing but gossip.
One student did not see these two concepts (nature versus nurture) as opposing forces but as
interconnected necessities to the existence of all human beings. Peacola has been deemed by the
town, both adults and children, as the ugliest girl in the town. Her mother blames Peacola for the
incestuous rape, and by the book’s end, Peacola goes crazy. It was this ill-treatment of Peacola
(lack of nurture) that forced Peacola into a psychotic end (family’s nature). One student pointed
to social media and the psychological impact that it has on today’s youth, even sharing stories of
his mental battle and how he tries to rise above “the comments in the post”; however, living up to
his family’s expectations had taken a toll as he was fighting to break “generational curses”. There
were many other relatable moments with The Bluest Eye.
Asphyxiation covered the room as the class watched an interview between Oprah
Winfrey and Morrison. In the interview, Winfrey asked Morrison, "Did you have to make
Peacola crazy?" To which Morrison responded, "Yes, because she had NO EXIT. There wasn't
one person willing to save her" (Toni Morrison Tribute, Facebook, 2014). Gasping sounds could
be heard. One student asked to pause the interview. There we were stuck, “No Exit”. These
words took the very life out of each of us. We sat quietly for a while, soaking in all that we had
heard. A discussion ensued. Earlier that week, there was a shooting at a local Walmart in
Chesapeake, Va. by a disgruntled employee who killed six people before killing himself. Prior to
that, a mass shooting took place at the University of Virginia killing three students. The question
arose, "Did the shooter at Walmart feel that he had NO EXIT?”. “Did the shooter at UVA feel
that he had NO EXIT?” None of us were making excuses for the shooters or justifying their
actions. We just wanted to know what brings a person to the point of feeling as if he or she has
NO EXIT. We discussed how miserable and awful it has to be and to feel as if you have NO
EXIT... and we sat in that for a while...feeling and thinking. Solitude can be a fatalistic
tormentor. We analyzed our role (society’s role) in what drove these individuals into an
agonizing abyss. One student responded, “I’m not saying that what he did was right, but, how
many times did he reach out and was ignored? How many times was he made to feel that his
problems were no big deal, and he should just get over it?” As we continued to study this novel,
music was often used to make connections.
Music can provide a catharsis that extends beyond culture, race, language, gender,
country, religion, and age. The students were asked to create a soundtrack focused on a character,
a theme, or a societal issue from the novel. The students were asked to explain how each song
connected to their given topic. One student’s playlist was based on different characters in the
novel. Her playlist was as follows: “Resilient” by Katy Perry, “Rude” by Magic, “Love” by
Keyshia Cole, “Believe” by Shawn Mendes, “Misunderstood” by Russ, “Mean” by Taylor Swift,
“Evil Like Me” by Kristin Chenoweth and Dove Cameron, and “I Will Always Love You” by
Whitney Houston. In explaining her choice of “I Will Always Love You” for the character
Sammy, she wrote, “Sammy was one of the most passionate characters in the book. He witnessed
many altercations between his parents and he would always stand up for his mother. But when
he became fed up, he would run away from home. Which is why I used the song I did; even
though he loved both his mother and sister, he had to separate himself from the toxicity.” Sammy
needing to leave his loved ones despite the amount of love that he had for them was reaffirmed
the day when my students walked into class to Tina Turner’s iconic song “What’s Love Got to
Do With It?”. The objective was to connect the lyrics of the song to what was going on in the
text. A student referenced this quote from the text and then expounded on her thoughts.
"Love is never any better than the lover. Wicked people love wickedly, violent people
love violently, weak people love weakly, stupid people love stupidly, but the love of a free man is
never safe" (Morrison, 206). The student concluded. People love in many different ways. Not
all forms of love are good, but it is love just the same. However, there may come a point in your
life that regardless of how much you love someone you must say, "What's love got to do with
it?" and walk away. This was the case with Turner and her need to end her poisonous marriage
and Sammy’s need to leave his mother and sister.
Another song that we analyzed was TLC’s song “Unpretty.” My students were tasked
with making the connection between the song’s message and the idea of “pretty”, which was an
ongoing theme throughout the book. One of my students wrote passionately about this:
The song seeks to free a woman from the oppression of trying too hard to please a
boyfriend (“maybe get rid of you and get back to me” (TLC lines 310)}. It tells the story
of how people change how they look on the outside for others’ approval but on the inside,
that’s not who they want to be (“on the outside I’m cool/but my insides are blue” (TLC
lines 8-9) ). The song wants to promote self-love and improve self-esteem by making
girls aware that they are all beautiful in unique ways and should embrace that. (“You can
buy your hair if it won't grow/ You can fix your nose if he says so/ You can buy all the
makeup that M.A.C. can make/ But if you can't look inside you/ find out who am I too/
be in the position to make me feel so/ damn unpretty.” (TLC lines 17-23)
To see oneself as “unpretty” (ugly), or at least society’s views of what is and what is not,
is demonstrated from cover to cover in this novel. The Breedlove family is the epitome of ugly
through words, actions, and appearance. The novel consistently challenges the theory of a
dandelion and whether it is a weed, something ugly that people want to get rid of, or a flower,
something pretty that people want to keep. The students took on the task of personifying the
concept of ugly to bring ugly to life. The students were asked to write Ugly a letter. Here is one
of my student’s letter to Ugly:
Hey Ugly,
You really hurt me. You’re giving me all these thoughts and it just hurts now. I wish you
could go away and never come back. You’ve always been around me from the day I
came to be. Why is it me you chose to never leave?
The term ugly can trigger insecurities. The students had an opportunity to think about their
insecurities. The following is the prompt that students were provided.
Have you ever felt that you didn’t quite measure up to a standard of beauty? In other
words, did you ever wish that your hair was different, or that you were taller, or that you
looked like a movie star, etc.? If so, how do you deal with those feelings? If not, what
advice would you give to someone who is unhappy with the way he or she looks?
For which a student wrote:
As a child, I was always quite small but as I got older I had begun to gain weight. I was
never bullied for it, thankfully, but I always hated myself for never being skinny like the
other girls. It had hit me hard enough that I hated wearing dresses as I never liked how
they looked on me. I didn’t like that you could see the outline of my stomach. I hated
wearing shorts because they showed my legs off. I couldn’t wear tops like the other girls
because my chest was too big or deemed as me showing cleavage. To make matters
worse, I wasn’t allowed to wear leggings at school. But every time I turned around, I
would see a much smaller girl wearing the same exact outfit, but I guess since they were
smaller it was fine. Thankfully, I found people who taught me that you don’t have to be
skinny or petite to enjoy the things you love. Finding people that don’t judge you is
always a great way to encourage yourself, to not allow yourself to sink into those
negative thoughts.
The realness of this novel was felt as students began to take a hard look at themselves, as
well as the characters. A character that the students love to hate was Cholly Breedlove, the
patriarch of the Breedlove family. He lived a painful life, which makes the reader have some
sympathy for him. However, the pain of his life created a venom that he placed upon his family.
By the book’s end, he passed away, and the students were asked to write an obituary for Cholly,
which also allowed the students to incorporate characterization skills. One student provided this:
In memory of
Cholly Breedlove
1881-1941
Son, Nephew, Husband, Father
Cholly lived a hard life, left in the care of his aunt after his mother ran off, up until her
passing. He eventually found himself a wife and formed a “family”. Despite the long
days that he worked, he did little to nothing to care for his so-called family. Sending his
daughter Pecola Breedlove into a bloody insanity. As deserved, he spent his last days
alone, passing in the very workhouse he spent a good portion of his life in, leaving behind
a daughter, wife, and son to finally rest in peace.
It has been a year since I taught this novel. Today, February 2, 2024, one of the students
referenced in this paper saw me and said, “Mrs. Boone-Hurdle, because of you Toni Morrison is
now officially my favorite writer. I spent the summer reading some of her other works.” My
eyes watered, and I smiled. I had served my purpose. A student has come to love reading, to
feel as if he is not alone, and to know that his voice matters and when he reads, he will absorb
the words on the pages and make them his own.
References
Morrison, Toni. Interview with Oprah Winfrey. Oprah Winfrey Show. 26 May 2000.
Morrison, Toni. The Bluest Eye. NewYork. Alfred A. Knopf. 2000.
TLC. Unpretty. Youtube. 14 Jul 2010. https://youtu.be/2g21Evblkg?si=JS-NWM9eohyHiHoG.



Lessons from The Bluest Eye: The Discovery of Self

This is a book review of Expanding Literacy: Bringing Digital Storytelling into Your Classroom by Brett Pierce in 2022. Review collaboratively by two teacher educators and a content area literacy course, this thorough review of Pierce\u27s book for educators includes many perspectives

Bergeron, Hollie M.

Martin, Jenny M

Virginia English Journal 
Volume 72 
Issue 1 Volume 72, Issue 1 (2024) Spring Article 8 
2024 
Take a Risk: A Review of Expanding Literacy 
Hollie M. Bergeron 
Bridgewater College, hbergeron@bridgewater.edu 
Jenny M. Martin 
Bridgewater College, jmmartin@bridgewater.edu 
Follow this and additional works at: https://digitalcommons.bridgewater.edu/vej 
 Part of the Curriculum and Instruction Commons, English Language and Literature Commons, and the 
Language and Literacy Education Commons 
Recommended Citation 
Bergeron, Hollie M. and Martin, Jenny M. (2024) "Take a Risk: A Review of Expanding Literacy," Virginia 
English Journal: Vol. 72: Iss. 1, Article 8. 
Available at: https://digitalcommons.bridgewater.edu/vej/vol72/iss1/8 
This Book Review is brought to you for free and open access by the Journals and Campus Publications at BC 
Digital Commons. It has been accepted for inclusion in Virginia English Journal by an authorized editor of BC 
Digital Commons. For more information, please contact rlowe@bridgewater.edu. 
Take a Risk: A Review of Expanding Literacy 
Author Biography 
Dr. Hollie Bergeron is a Visiting Assistant Professor of Education at Bridgewater College. She received her 
Ph.D. in education from Northeastern University, here M.Ed. from River University, and her bachelor's 
degree in psychology and early childhood education from Keene State College. 
Dr. Jenny M. Martin is an Associate Professor of Education at Bridgewater College. she received her Ph.D. 
in English Education from Virginia Tech, her M.Ed. from Eastern Mennonite University, and her bachelor's 
degree in English and secondary education from Radford University. 
Abstract 
This is a book review of Expanding Literacy: Bringing Digital Storytelling into Your Classroom by Brett 
Pierce in 2022. Review collaboratively by two teacher educators and a content area literacy course, this 
thorough review of Pierce's book for educators includes many perspectives. 
Keywords 
book review, digital literacy, storytelling, digital storytelling 
Acknowledgements 
Thank you to the preservice teachers in the Content Area Literacy Course for reviewing book chapters for 
this publication. 
This book review is available in Virginia English Journal: https://digitalcommons.bridgewater.edu/vej/vol72/iss1/8 
Take a Risk 
Expanding Literacy: Bringing Digital Storytelling into Your Classroom 
By Brett Pierce 
Heinemann, 2022, $28, 208 pages. 
As reviewed by Dr. Hollie Bergeron, Dr. Jenny M. Martin, and preservice teachers in a 
Content Area Literacy course. 
 
“As humans, we process knowledge and information best in the form of stories. Conversely, as 
humans, we communicate knowledge and information best in the form of stories. Storytelling, 
it can therefore be argued, is the most potent structure within which to encase knowledge—
for the purposes of understanding, remembering, and communicating” (Pierce, 2022, p. 83) 
 
Brett Pierce’s (2022) Expanding Literacy: Bringing Digital Storytelling into Your Classroom 
delivers on the title in this five-chapter book for educators and future educators. We 
reviewed the book collaboratively with 18 undergraduate preservice teachers in a content 
area literacy course taught by Jenny, to gather many perspectives. Each student selected a 
chapter to review, allowing us to weave their perspectives throughout, providing a chorus 
of voices. This student assignment was written into the syllabus for the course. Collectively, 
we found this book offers a wealth of resources for novice and experienced teachers across 
subjects and grade levels. 
 
In Chapter 1, Pierce begins by making a case for digital storytelling, harnessing the 
influence of social media. He shows how best practice using this type of storytelling 
provides a multitude of learning opportunities, allowing students to use social media 
intentionally. This book includes a multitude of activities and projects for teachers; the 
“Forecasting History” project that is detailed on page 76 is a prime example. Pierce 
encourages the expansion of literacy, teaching students to contribute to digital media in a 
respectful and meaningful manner. He emphasizes that this is an exciting time to be an 
educator, urging teachers to help students use their voice and develop crucial 21st century 
skills.  
Pierce’s book could use a primer that includes basic pedagogical training regarding literacy 
and technology. Preparing teachers to be competent with technology use in the classroom 
has been a focus for decades. At the end of the first chapter, the author warns about the age 
of misinformation and charges educators to prepare students for this world of 
misinformation. Owen, a music preservice teacher, has a slight problem with this 
expectation, “Many teachers have no idea how technology works, and they never receive 
proper training. How are we supposed to help our students if we are just as helpless? I 
think a better approach would be to ensure that teachers are also properly trained to deal 
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Published by BC Digital Commons, 2024
with technology before going out and assisting students.” Owen’s challenge could be fodder 
for further writing by Pierce, as well as insight into teacher education programs. 
Chapters 2, 3, and 4 provide a step-by-step process with examples of bringing digital 
storytelling to your classroom. Here, the author guides teachers through researching 
with students, tapping into students’ creativity, developing their ideas, and launching into 
production. Creating digital media, in this way, requires critical thinking skills, and it 
prepares youth for “omnipresent change.” 
 
Educators are quick to say that process is more important than the product. Emphasizing 
process over outcome to improve long-term learning goals, Pierce states: 
Assessment is often about mastery of knowledge, not about skill sets such as 
creativity and collaboration. Here’s the crux of the dilemma: if you can cover a key 
World War II battle in one class, why spend three weeks on that battle with a digital 
storytelling project? The same question can be applied to any content to which you 
traditionally assign a single day. And the answer is this: It’s not about the battle. It’s 
about learning and thinking and researching and problem-solving. It’s about actively 
doing rather than absorbing. It’s about creating your own story about history or 
literature, rather than accepting the story being told to you (p. 46). 
The essence of the book is to be a creator and critical thinker of media literacy. The author 
focuses on the process and provides examples of how to embed essential content. 
Ultimately, this process is how students will expand literacy as learners and citizens of the 
world. 
 
Finally, Pierce boosts teachers’ confidence by showing how this can be integrated easily 
into the classroom to revitalize and innovate their education. The aim of the book is to 
strengthen curriculum to meet students’ academic and social needs. Digital storytelling 
prepares students for “what the real world looks like.” Pierce argues that this is the time to 
make a change (p. 122). This approach empowers students to take ownership of their 
learning and invest deeply in their work. 
 
We commend Pierce’s language use. In Chapter 2, Sav, a history and social studies 
preservice teacher, appreciated that instead of “restricting the complexities of the 
conversation to terms such as twenty-first century, life skills, or soft skills,” Pierce used 
“human skills.” Brandon, also a history and social studies preservice teacher, agreed “...the 
point about human skills made me reconsider what we’re doing a bit—yeah, for me and my 
field, teaching history is important, but maybe more important is teaching them how to 
think about it freely, and with one another.” Sav added, “The author does an amazing job ... 
showing the concepts in a way that encapsulates the depth of one’s personal belonging to 
societal functions.” A salient sentence noted by Marlen, a Spanish preservice teacher, 
further exemplifies Pierce’s rich language use, “Stories reveal deep understanding because 
the format of storytelling implicitly insists that you have a personal connection to the topic” 
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(p. 80). Reading Pierce’s book is a joy because it is penned in an engaging and sophisticated 
way. 
The information Pierce provided in Expanding Literacy is filled with possibilities for 
teachers to mobilize for action.  We appreciate the “Spirited Activities” he includes in 
Chapters 2, 3, and 4. For instance, Chelsea, a music education student, appreciated the 
author’s focus on teaching students about the importance of sound. Pierce guides us how to 
teach ambient, natural, and foley sound by way of activities. Beyond these spirited 
activities, Pierce outlines detailed projects that are easily digested with the phases for each 
project (Chapter 4). Educators and students value scaffolding instruction, which he does 
gracefully. 
Classroom furniture can be arranged in many ways, just like this book’s contents. As one 
English preservice teacher, Logan, noted, Pierce’s editor could have guided him to place the 
lesson plans differently. Logan suggested that the lesson plans may be more readily 
accessible in an appendix or if the lessons appeared after each example.  
While the intended audience is secondary educators, the ideas in the book apply to all 
grade levels. Being a former elementary school teacher, as Hollie read, she reminisced on 
the fun and engaging activities with her early elementary classes. Memories of students 
sharing their work from the author’s chair, animal podcasts that incorporated research and 
extended to an audience outside of the classroom, and published books for the classroom 
library came to mind while reading.  
As the mother of a high school student, Jenny wondered when writing becomes more 
laborious and less engaging, reverting to the ubiquitous reports and essays. Expanding 
Literacy provides ideas for all grade levels to engage in rigorous educational research and 
exploration through creative digital literacy projects. Projects and suggestions provide a 
framework for digital storytelling that stretches across the curriculum and standard 
assessment practices. The framework and project ideas are helpful and allow teachers to 
implement these strategies to fit their students' needs best.  
Storytelling is a powerful form of communication with clear educational benefits. Digital 
storytelling projects empower students to take learning into their own hands and provide 
opportunities for research, observation, organizing information, critical thinking, creativity, 
and more. The ultimate benefit of digital storytelling is the depth of learning that comes 
from such a project. 
Finally, the overwhelming thought of, “We don’t have time to do all of this” may exist for 
teachers as they read this ambitious book on the praxis of digital storytelling. Never fear. As 
a producer and program developer for Sesame Workshop, Pierce guides teachers from the 
start. The innovative and practical ideas for teachers are accompanied by detailed 
instructions. Rather than making teachers feel overwhelmed, this book provides support 
and guidance. Furthermore, the author is accessible. He has presented at the Virginia 
Association of Teachers of English and the National Council of Teachers of English 
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conferences, and teachers could confidently reach out to the author with questions and we 
think they would surely get a response.  
 
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Take a Risk: A Review of Expanding Literacy

Golden, Cheryl

I Can…. Will You?
I can provide knowledge,
but will you accept it.
I can give you respect,
will you return it?
I can challenge you,
are you up for it?
I can give you hope,
will you dream?
I can build you up,
will you stand strong?
Because of you, my life will be changed.
Will you change and grow with me?
I am a teacher.
Will you learn?
Believe
I believe in you.
Do you believe in you?
I have faith you CAN succeed.
Do you have faith in You?
I think you are terrific.
Do you think you are terrific?
If I believe in you,
perhaps you could believe in yourself.
If I have faith in you,
perhaps you could have faith in yourself.
I believe you are a terrific kid
who WILL succeed.
Will you join me on this journey toward
success?


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