DigitalCommons@C.O.D.

Jurinek, Gabriella

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 47 
Number 1 Spring 2025 Article 15 
Spring 5-1-2025 
Express Yourself 
Gabriella Jurinek 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Jurinek, Gabriella (2025) "Express Yourself," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 47: No. 1, Article 15. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol47/iss1/15 
This Artwork is brought to you for free and open access by the College Publications at DigitalCommons@COD. It 
has been accepted for inclusion in The Prairie Light Review by an authorized editor of DigitalCommons@COD. For 
more information, please contact orenick@cod.edu. 
Express Yourself
14
 Everyone thought I’d be a dancer since Lucy was: that I’d get into the Royal Ballet and 
smile out at the crowd every night just because we could arch the same way. They didn’t say well, 
all you have is your flexibility, but I knew they were thinking it. Every time I attended one of  Lucy’s 
shows I thought the same thing--the dancers looked like gazelles and moved like them, too. They’d 
disappear for months on end after some injury or another. I was built like a workhorse, Lucy said, 
and she promised she meant it like I was resilient, but I knew what she was looking at: my thick 
neck, my stocky legs. All strength and no grace.
 Lucy retired my last year of  high school. She said she wanted to teach instead, and it 
was as obvious a lie as anything else, but whenever I brought it up she laughed and replied that 
sometimes things just didn’t work out. I pretended I didn’t care to know long enough that I really 
started to believe it, and it joined the pile of  things we’d never revisit.
 Then it was just me attending classes daily, bending neatly in half, pretending that would 
be enough to make up for the rest of  me. Twice a week we did pas de deux with the boys and I 
hated it every time. All of  them worked out for hours beforehand and none of  them could carry 
us anyway, and they joked that I should be the one lifting them up instead. I felt like an oaf  in 
tights, and my partner was a swan trying to support a workhorse’s clumsy promenade.
 The month I quit ballet was the month Lucy began teaching at my academy. “You 
could’ve gone anywhere else,” I said. She was prodigious; she had articles written about her dating 
back to when she was six, and I was at a place deemed at best second-rate. “You could’ve started 
your own studio. You would’ve stolen half  our students.”
 “I had to be home,” she replied, circling her fingers loosely around her wrist. I didn’t 
get why--all she seemed to do was get into arguments. Lucy had an issue with the way everything 
was cooked: she wanted avocado oil, not olive oil, and then she just wanted spray oil and only a 
single quarter-second of  it. For dessert, she ate exactly three strawberries. She bought thirty-five 
calorie bread slices and cried when Mom used the regular loaf  instead. She accused her of  trying 
to fatten her up, and one night when Mom made chili-oil dumplings, fried chicken sitting in thick 
slices on top, Lucy looked at me and then at her bowl and said, “God, no wonder--”
 I didn’t ask no wonder what? because everyone at the table knew the answer. Instead, I 
put my bowl in the sink and after that I began using spray oil, too.
 When I quit, Lucy didn’t speak to me for a week. I didn’t notice. I was too busy looking 
at my reflection, trying on old leotards and stealing her outfits. The girls in my class were all built 
like her: long necks and slender, delicate fingers, nails filed down to the cuticle. My knuckles pro-
truded and my fingers looked like tree stumps. When I tried on Lucy’s tutu I remembered how it 
made her look--a waist the size of  a toothpick. Mine just looked like a barrel.
Mina Pattanaik
Workhorse
Gabriella Jurinek 
Digital Photography 14 151
Jurinek: Express Yourself
Published by DigitalCommons@COD, 2025


Express Yourself

Bishop, Bee

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 47 
Number 1 Spring 2025 Article 20 
Spring 5-1-2025 
Raven and the Wolves 
Bee Bishop 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Bishop, Bee (2025) "Raven and the Wolves," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 47: No. 1, Article 20. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol47/iss1/20 
This Selection is brought to you for free and open access by the College Publications at DigitalCommons@COD. It 
has been accepted for inclusion in The Prairie Light Review by an authorized editor of DigitalCommons@COD. For 
more information, please contact orenick@cod.edu. 
Freckles and Cheese
When we were five, you hated cheese, 
I remember it like a taste still on my tongue— fluffy brown hair, eyes wide 
and searching, always softer than the other boys, 
like you carried a secret in the way you smiled. 
We lost years, slipped through our fingers 
like sand in the wind, 
and when we found them again, 
you had freckles, 
like constellations that mapped a different you, but somehow, still the same.
I felt that pull again— 
like nothing had changed, 
and yet, everything had. 
Now, you leave me hanging on a message, my fingers 
hovering over the screen, wondering if  you know I still care, 
or if  I’m just another game you play with no rules, no end. 
Fluffy brown hair, 
freckles, 
and the space between us 
that never seems to shrink.
Lidia Rogers
What happens when the 
winter ends? Will the wolves eat 
their dear raven friend? 
Bee Bishop
Raven and the Wolves
Pierson Lipschultz
Photography
Untitled
20 21
Bishop: Raven and the Wolves
Published by DigitalCommons@COD, 2025


Raven and the Wolves

Love, Sofia

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 47 
Number 1 Spring 2025 Article 52 
Spring 5-1-2025 
Unnamed 
Sofia Love 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Love, Sofia (2025) "Unnamed," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 47: No. 1, Article 52. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol47/iss1/52 
This Selection is brought to you for free and open access by the College Publications at DigitalCommons@COD. It 
has been accepted for inclusion in The Prairie Light Review by an authorized editor of DigitalCommons@COD. For 
more information, please contact orenick@cod.edu. 
Unnamed,
did you know that the one you had slain would go unforgotten?
could you know that thousands would ponder about what happened in that farmers’ field for over 130 
years after your sin? 
likely for a hundred years after this century too?
maybe when the gravestone fully collapses into the earth and erodes into a nondescript boulder will 
people finally stop wondering, and you can be in peace with your sin
but at the present moment,
did you know we would forget your name but we wouldn’t forget what you did?
Unnamed,
did you think that we wouldn’t mourn it?
or its mother?
we may not remember its name
maybe it never actually had one
except for the secret one its mother might have given it,
whispered by a frightened girl against her baby’s still body
the name, locked behind the shrouds of history
if it did have a name then we are not privy to it
perhaps we are undeserving to know it
settling for the grave marker of “Nameless”
Unnamed,
the fact that it didn’t have a name makes your sin most deplorable
it inspired a reverend 122 years after the burial 
to unearth your sin to the modern public of britain
‘what is more tragic than a child’s grave?’ they wondered
‘perhaps one that had no name?’ they concluded
the idea sickens us, and we take upon ourselves to wonder about that nameless baby, who they could’ve 
been, and we plant daffodils around the sunken, moss covered grave stone as a belated apology, over 
a hundred years late
‘what is even more sick than that?’ i wonder
‘maybe this belated care is just the product of a frenzy evoked by a tragic mystery’ i conclude
Unnamed,
it’s hard to picture your sin, to make out the edges of it like an old degraded photo
i find myself wondering why?
why did you do this? why did no one protect this child? why did no one notice?
maybe they didn’t want to notice
if only to detest the rotting smell of its body, discarded in a farmer’s backyard, if only to rid themselves 
of any reminders that it ever existed at all
if the baby was allowed the things that we take for granted everyday then it would have grown up with 
a purpose outside of being sustenance for the local wild dogs and scavenging crows
this sin was so unique to a the british public, and they couldn’t make sense of it
however,
the senselessness goes on and on and on in the corners of the world that are disregarded and forgotten 
by the western gaze
it is considered a privilege for children in gaza, the congo, sudan, haiti, and others to receive a grave, 
to even have a resting place at all
will they get daffodils in 100 years?
the faded inscription on that anonymous grave in lincolnshire england stays true for the perpetrators 
of the deaths of every child on this earth, in all corners of the world
it read:
“be sure your sin will find you out”
Unnamed Sofia Love
I have gone 
By so many names 
I no longer recognize my own 
       I have worn 
       So many masks 
                      My reflection is unknown, 
My feelings of disgust 
    Meet parallel 
       To my pleasure.
Untitled: Unseen: Unknown 
Kathryn Bell
Le
sli
e 
Va
ld
es
2D
 D
ig
ita
l A
rt
Te
ar
 W
ith
in
 th
e 
A
pp
le
58 591
Love: Unnamed
Published by DigitalCommons@COD, 2025


Unnamed

Kathryn, Bell

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 47 
Number 1 Spring 2025 Article 53 
Spring 5-1-2025 
Untitled: Unseen: Unknown 
Bell Kathryn 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Kathryn, Bell (2025) "Untitled: Unseen: Unknown," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 47: No. 1, Article 53. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol47/iss1/53 
This Selection is brought to you for free and open access by the College Publications at DigitalCommons@COD. It 
has been accepted for inclusion in The Prairie Light Review by an authorized editor of DigitalCommons@COD. For 
more information, please contact orenick@cod.edu. 
Unnamed,
did you know that the one you had slain would go unforgotten?
could you know that thousands would ponder about what happened in that farmers’ field for over 130 
years after your sin? 
likely for a hundred years after this century too?
maybe when the gravestone fully collapses into the earth and erodes into a nondescript boulder will 
people finally stop wondering, and you can be in peace with your sin
but at the present moment,
did you know we would forget your name but we wouldn’t forget what you did?
Unnamed,
did you think that we wouldn’t mourn it?
or its mother?
we may not remember its name
maybe it never actually had one
except for the secret one its mother might have given it,
whispered by a frightened girl against her baby’s still body
the name, locked behind the shrouds of history
if it did have a name then we are not privy to it
perhaps we are undeserving to know it
settling for the grave marker of “Nameless”
Unnamed,
the fact that it didn’t have a name makes your sin most deplorable
it inspired a reverend 122 years after the burial 
to unearth your sin to the modern public of britain
‘what is more tragic than a child’s grave?’ they wondered
‘perhaps one that had no name?’ they concluded
the idea sickens us, and we take upon ourselves to wonder about that nameless baby, who they could’ve 
been, and we plant daffodils around the sunken, moss covered grave stone as a belated apology, over 
a hundred years late
‘what is even more sick than that?’ i wonder
‘maybe this belated care is just the product of a frenzy evoked by a tragic mystery’ i conclude
Unnamed,
it’s hard to picture your sin, to make out the edges of it like an old degraded photo
i find myself wondering why?
why did you do this? why did no one protect this child? why did no one notice?
maybe they didn’t want to notice
if only to detest the rotting smell of its body, discarded in a farmer’s backyard, if only to rid themselves 
of any reminders that it ever existed at all
if the baby was allowed the things that we take for granted everyday then it would have grown up with 
a purpose outside of being sustenance for the local wild dogs and scavenging crows
this sin was so unique to a the british public, and they couldn’t make sense of it
however,
the senselessness goes on and on and on in the corners of the world that are disregarded and forgotten 
by the western gaze
it is considered a privilege for children in gaza, the congo, sudan, haiti, and others to receive a grave, 
to even have a resting place at all
will they get daffodils in 100 years?
the faded inscription on that anonymous grave in lincolnshire england stays true for the perpetrators 
of the deaths of every child on this earth, in all corners of the world
it read:
“be sure your sin will find you out”
Unnamed Sofia Love
I have gone 
By so many names 
I no longer recognize my own 
       I have worn 
       So many masks 
                      My reflection is unknown, 
My feelings of disgust 
    Meet parallel 
       To my pleasure.
Untitled: Unseen: Unknown 
Kathryn Bell
Le
sli
e 
Va
ld
es
2D
 D
ig
ita
l A
rt
Te
ar
 W
ith
in
 th
e 
A
pp
le
58 591
Kathryn: Untitled: Unseen: Unknown
Published by DigitalCommons@COD, 2025


Untitled: Unseen: Unknown

Hayes, Ivan

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 47 
Number 1 Spring 2025 Article 65 
Spring 5-1-2025 
Unfair 
Ivan Hayes 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Hayes, Ivan (2025) "Unfair," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 47: No. 1, Article 65. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol47/iss1/65 
This Selection is brought to you for free and open access by the College Publications at DigitalCommons@COD. It 
has been accepted for inclusion in The Prairie Light Review by an authorized editor of DigitalCommons@COD. For 
more information, please contact orenick@cod.edu. 
I’ve known it for years, this feeling.
This, untouchable, unreachable, unfailable, feeling.
Best friends, yet there was always more.
Feeling drowned under smiles and laughs he expended,
leaving my insides all bent and twisted.
My heart, a maze.
Its walls twist and bend, its exit a mere haze.
I wish for answers, a hint, anything really.
But the more I search, the more I hate, anything but reality.
Damned if  I tell, Damned if  I don’t.
It's unfair really.
Damned if  I do, so I won’t.
So, I keep it inside and love from afar.
Waiting, hoping to undo that feeling
I've always, and will always keep from you.
Unfair
Ivan Hayes
U
niverse
Planets align in the silence of  the night
Stars twinkle down on my lips
I can taste the atmosphere on his tongue
voices echo in the cosmic bays
forbidden kisses hidden in the milky ways
The whole world in the palm of  his hand
I wish to grab ahold
from center of  my heart
Solar systems turning
The universe reversing
Our laughter expansive and bold
In its gravity our secret story is told
We orbit as one
a dance of  the spheres
tip toe around each other
through the passing years
destiny's pull keeps us circling in space
In big smiles and sweet hugs
we've found our place
In the quiet of  space
the truth silently whispers
Bound by shared secrets
dreams we confide
Yet in others arms
we must pretend to hide.
Two spirits soul bound
under skies so bright
paint the trees
To match their wind
to move in the same speed
as much as
brown and blue eyes create a view
Some things fate will tell you
can never be true
our glances weave a tale untold,
A connection so deep
it breaks the usual mold,
We dance around fate
hands nearly entwined,
In another life perhaps
our stars realigned 71
M
aya W
ashington
70 1
Hayes: Unfair
Published by DigitalCommons@COD, 2025


Unfair

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 47 
Number 1 Spring 2025 Article 8 
Spring 5-1-2025 
Table of Contents 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
(2025) "Table of Contents," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 47: No. 1, Article 8. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol47/iss1/8 
This Prefatory Note is brought to you for free and open access by the College Publications at 
DigitalCommons@COD. It has been accepted for inclusion in The Prairie Light Review by an authorized editor of 
DigitalCommons@COD. For more information, please contact orenick@cod.edu. 
 Affirmation     Kendalla Puckett  Front Cover
 Gateway     Karl Weber    08
 Mt. Baldy     Glynis Benbow-Niemier  09
 Deck of  Cards    Steven Anderson    10
 I Have Nothing to Do 
        and Some Time to Kill  Juno Nightingale    10
 Put My Head on a Pike, 
  Why Don’t You! Alyssa Marie Cordero  12
 Wilting Lily    Karen Janas    13
 Express Yourself     Gabriella Jurinek  14
 Workhorse    Mina Pattanaik   15
 Let’s Blow Up Spider-Man!   DJ Janas    17
 Bonded     Jennifer Barg    19
 Freckles and Cheese    Lidia Rogers    20
 Raven and the Wolves   Bee Bishop    21
 Untitled    Pierson Lipschultz  21
 Blooming    Nola White    22
 Glorious Memorious    John Santaga    23
 Ruth     Estefani Karasek   24
 Would You Care to Know Me? Kathryn Bell    25
 Untitled     Pierson Lipschultz  26
 Poetics.     Laura Pineda   27
 Bebelplatz     Glynis Benbow-Niemier  28
 Nine Candles    Jeanne Mardegan  30
 Happy Death Day   Ivan Hayes   33
 That Ghost There on That Bench Hunter Schultz  34
 Between Life and Death   Gabriella Jurinek  36
 What Lies Below   Breane Barrios  37
 Shedding    Ciara Houzell   39
 Mudstick    Ana Keough   40
 Tender Lumplings   Mikayla Ryan-Hicks  41
 Untitled     Divine Nkanga  42
 Soultry    Devona Barnes  43
 A Silence Kept   Lidia Rogers   44
Table of  Contents Bodies in Privacy Contort for      Voyeuristic Hedonistic Oddities Kendalla Puckett  45
 Girlhood     Brooklyn Ross   46
 Pink Drip    Noora Azeez   47
 Crestfallen Stars   Kassandra Lane           48
 Rhythmic Essence of  Spring  Devona Barnes  50
 Dear boys and dear girls  
     who I have yet to find and love Valeria Garay   51
 Binary Code     Zofia Oles   52
 That One Uncle… 
 This fool met Kendrick Ciara Houzell   53
 Crimson Cowl and Red Hoodie John Santaga   54
 Love Me as If  
 Violence Doesn’t Exist Maya Washington  55
 Distorted Faith   Sebastian Krzeczkowski 56
 Illuminated Hope   Sebastian Krzeczkowski 57
 Unnamed    Sofia Love   58
 Untitled: Unseen: Unknown  Kathryn Bell   59
 Tears Within the Apple   Leslie Valdes   59
 Biking to the French Quarter  Mardelle Fortier  60
 Morninghawk   John L. Schrage  60
 In Search Of     John L. Schrage  61
 Wooing at the Writers’ Gathering Jim Swinehart            61
 On the Beat: A Cop Tells His Tale Mardelle Fortier  64
 Michigan Avenue Musicians  Samantha Clanton  65
 For 3 Months, 5 Years Ago  Bee Bishop   66
 RSVP BY    Mina Pattanaik  67
 Twin-Sized Bed   Jeanne Mardegan  68
 Symmetry    Nola White   69
 Unfair     Ivan Hayes   70
 Universe    Maya Washington  71
 On Pluto’s Dark Shore  Alyssa Marie Cordero  72
 Into the Mist    DJ Janas   73
 Meditations    Laura Pineda   74
 Impact    Christine Carroll  75
 To Chicago    Karen Janas  Back Cover
6 71
et al.: Table of Contents
Published by DigitalCommons@COD, 2025


Krzeczkowski, Sebastian

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 47 
Number 1 Spring 2025 Article 51 
Spring 5-1-2025 
Illuminated Hope 
Sebastian Krzeczkowski 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Krzeczkowski, Sebastian (2025) "Illuminated Hope," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 47: No. 1, Article 51. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol47/iss1/51 
This Artwork is brought to you for free and open access by the College Publications at DigitalCommons@COD. It 
has been accepted for inclusion in The Prairie Light Review by an authorized editor of DigitalCommons@COD. For 
more information, please contact orenick@cod.edu. 
Illuminated Hope 
56
Sebastian Krzeczkowski
Photography
Sebastian Krzeczkowski
Photography
Distorted Faith
571
Krzeczkowski: Illuminated Hope
ublished by DigitalCommons@COD, 2025


Illuminated Hope

This presentation explores the intersection of AI technologies and neurodiverse learning environments. It highlights how tools such as speech-to-text and organizational apps can empower neurodivergent learners while also addressing risks such as algorithmic bias, cognitive overload, and privacy concerns. Strategies for educators to thoughtfully integrate AI in support of inclusion and equity were discussed, along with calls to critically evaluate and co-create ethical educational technology practices that reflect the diverse ways students think and learn

Kapustka, Brian

Tompkins, Lara

College of DuPage 
DigitalCommons@COD 
Faculty and Staff Scholarship Languages 
1-23-2025 
Navigating Neurodiversity in the Age of AI Harnessing 
Opportunities, Addressing Challenges 
Brian Kapustka 
College of DuPage, kapustkab@cod.edu 
Lara Tompkins 
College of DuPage, tompkinsl@cod.edu 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/languages_fac_staff 
 Part of the Education Commons 
Recommended Citation 
Kapustka, Brian and Tompkins, Lara, "Navigating Neurodiversity in the Age of AI Harnessing 
Opportunities, Addressing Challenges" (2025). Faculty and Staff Scholarship. 4. 
https://dc.cod.edu/languages_fac_staff/4 
This Presentation is brought to you for free and open access by the Languages at DigitalCommons@COD. It has 
been accepted for inclusion in Faculty and Staff Scholarship by an authorized administrator of 
DigitalCommons@COD. For more information, please contact orenick@cod.edu. 
Navigating 
Neurodiversity in the 
Age of AI: Harnessing 
Opportunities, 
Addressing 
Challenges
Presenters: Brian Kapustka 
and Lara Tompkins
Neurodiversity refers to the diversity of 
human brains and cognitive functioning, 
including conditions like ADHD, autism, 
dyslexia, and more.
Neurodivergence is a natural and valuable 
form of human diversity that recognizes 
the variation in how our brains function. It 
acknowledges that there is no single 
"normal" or "right" way for a mind to work, 
just as there is no single correct ethnicity, 
gender, or culture. 



AI-powered assistive technologies, such as 
speech-to-text, text-to-speech, and visual 
organizers, can help neurodivergent 
students overcome challenges related to 
executive functioning, communication, 
and information processing.
AI tools can assist neurodivergent 
students with organization, time 
management, and task prioritization, 
helping them develop essential skills 
and overcome executive functioning 
deficits.
Challenges of AI for 
Neurodiverse Learners
Algorithmic Bias
• Algorithmic bias occurs when AI systems produce prejudiced outcomes due to flawed 
data or design. 
• This can disproportionately affect neurodiverse students by misinterpreting their unique 
behaviors or learning patterns, leading to unfair assessments or support 
recommendations. 
• For instance, if an AI-driven educational tool isn't trained on (or created by) diverse 
learning profiles, it may not effectively support students with diverse learning needs.
• So-called AI detection software also disproportionally flags the contributions of 
neurodiverse individuals as AI.
Cognitive Overload
• AI tools can sometimes present information in ways that overwhelm neurodiverse 
learners, especially those with conditions like ADHD or autism. 
• Complex interfaces or rapid information delivery without adequate customization can 
lead to cognitive overload, hindering learning rather than facilitating it. 
• It's essential for AI systems to offer adaptable interfaces that cater to individual cognitive 
processing styles. 
Privacy Concerns
• The integration of AI in educational settings raises privacy 
issues. Neurodiverse students might be particularly sensitive 
to data collection practices, fearing misuse or 
misunderstanding of their personal information. 
• Ensuring robust data protection measures and transparent 
policies is crucial to maintain trust and protect student privacy.
Over-Reliance on AI
• While AI offers valuable support, there's a risk of becoming overly dependent on 
these systems. For neurodiverse learners, this could mean reduced development of 
essential skills or critical thinking if AI tools are used as a crutch rather than a 
supplement. 
• Educators should strive to balance AI assistance with traditional teaching methods 
to promote holistic development.


Inclusivity is an ongoing process that requires active effort and empathy. By fostering a supportive and 
adaptive classroom environment, we can unlock the full potential of AI to benefit all learners.


What are your perspectives, 
challenges, or success 
stories with using AI tools to 
support neurodivergent 
learners.
What are the risks and 
potential drawbacks of AI 
implementation that need to 
be addressed, such as bias, 
privacy, and cognitive 
overload.
What practical strategies, 
tools, and resources can help 
educators create more 
inclusive and accessible AI-
powered learning 
environments?
How and where can we 
continue to discuss these 
topics? 
By thinking critically and in community, we can collectively shape the future of AI-powered education 
to better serve the needs of all learners, including those with diverse cognitive profiles.
kapustkab@cod.edu
tompkinsl@cod.edu


English

Navigating Neurodiversity in the Age of AI Harnessing Opportunities, Addressing Challenges

Characters:
LESLIE is butch woman around late fifties/early sixties and is the owner of a local floral arrangement shop “The Green Carnation” that has been running since 1969.
DOROTHY is a frantic woman in her late teens/early twenties looking for some gardening help
Director: Morgan Erickson
Actors: Maddie Poorman; Lexi Schiro; Ethan Diaz
Stage Directions: Ethan Dia

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Resilient Wild Violets 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Bee Bishop 
April 7, 2025
1 
Characters: 
LESLIE is butch woman around late fifties/early sixties and is the owner of a local floral 
arrangement shop “The Green Carnation” that has been running since 1969. 
DOROTHY is a frantic woman in her late teens/early twenties looking for some 
gardening help 
Scene opens with LESLIE leaning 
over a counter at “The Green 
Carnation,” flipping through a 
magazine. It is the afternoon and the 
radio is playing softly in the 
background.  
Enter DOROTHY 
 
DOROTHY 
(Frantically) 
Hey! Hi! Do you know plants? 
LESLIE 
(Dryly) 
Welcome to “The Green Carnation.” 
DOROTHY 
(Rudely.) 
Right… hi. I’m doing good. 
LESLIE sighs, closing her magazine.  
DOROTHY 
I need some help with my lawn and no one has been able to assist me. I mean I’ve tried 
everything. My mom, my aunt, this woman from my church, the lawn guy this woman 
from my church uses and— 
 
2 
LESLIE 
(Interrupts.) 
Have you tried the internet? 
DOROTHY 
(Rolls her eyes.) 
That was the first place I tried. It’s not giving me the answers I need so I came here to ask  
you. Do. You. Know. Plants? 
LESLIE 
Hon, this shop has been around since ‘69. There is no better place to get the information 
you need.  
DOROTHY looks around the empty 
shop in disbelief. 
LESLIE 
(Sharply.) 
Don’t do that. This place was bustling when it first opened. I’ve seen so many people 
come and go. Sergeants, Luppies, Blues, Lipsticks, Guppies. Every kind of Member of 
the Union you can think of. 
(Turns down the radio.) 
Things sort of… died down in the 80s and 90s. But we’ve seen an influx of the younger 
crowds come through. Rest assured… We’ve got what you need. 
DOROTHY 
(Pulls out her phone.) 
Perfect! My mom volunteered my house for her church book club at the end of the week 
and was absolutely disgusted by the state of my yard. I’ve got these… nasty weeds 
everywhere and I can’t, for the life of me, get rid of them.  
(Hands the phone to LESLIE.) 
I’ve tried everything. And they just won’t go away. 
3 
LESLIE squints at the phone before 
pulling out a pair of glasses to put 
them on. She looks at the screen 
again. 
LESLIE 
(Shocked.) 
My god! Your yard is practically dead! What the hell have you been using? 
DOROTHY 
Like I said… everything. Every weed killer, every grub killer, every aeration method… 
But nothing has really worked! It just kills the rest of my lawn.  
LESLIE 
Do you have a picture of these weeds? 
DOROTHY 
(taking the phone back) 
Yeah let me pull that picture up. 
DOROTHY hands the phone back to 
LESLIE. LESLIE examines it and 
grunts. 
LESLIE 
Those aren’t weeds. They’re violets. Nothing to worry about. 
DOROTHY 
(Shocked.) 
Wha– No! Those are weeds! My mother said so! 
LESLIE 
(Handing the phone back.) 
Sorry. Your mama was wrong. Those are violets. Resilient ones too. Impressive. 
 
4 
DOROTHY 
Uh no… those are weeds. And I can’t have weeds in my yard. 
LESLIE 
There’s nothing wrong with having ‘em in your yard. Those are wild violets. Native to 
the area. Just leave ‘em.  
DOROTHY 
But if they’re wild, then they’re weeds! I can’t have wild violets in my lawn! I need a 
nice, normal, plain green lawn by the end of the week! 
(Beat.) 
So how do I get rid of them? 
LESLIE 
Grass is wild. Does being wild make things weeds? 
DOROTHY 
Well… no. 
LESLIE 
Then are violets different? 
DOROTHY 
Yes! One is grass and one is violets! They’re extremely different. 
LESLIE 
They’re all plants.  
DOROTHY 
So? I can’t have them in my lawn. 
LESLIE 
Why? 
 
 
5 
DOROTHY 
(Uncertainly.) 
It’s against the HOA code… or something. 
LESLIE stares at her, unconvinced. 
DOROTHY 
And! My mom said it looked bad! 
LESLIE 
Lady I don’t— 
DOROTHY 
(Interrupts.) 
And! My aunt and the lady from my church! And the lawn guy the lady from my church 
uses! He was kind enough to pray to help the weed killer. Said they were evidence of 
Satan’s touch on our modern era. 
LESLIE raises an eyebrow at her 
customer. 
DOROTHY 
Well… some places online say they’re weeds! 
LESLIE 
(Beat.) 
Do you even want them gone? 
DOROTHY 
What? 
LESLIE 
You’re talking about ‘can’t have’ the violet 
(Beat.)  
But I’m not hearing that you don’t want them there. Dare I even say it… You might even 
like having them there. It feels right having them there. 
6 
DOROTHY 
But… It’s not supposed to be right. It’s wrong. Not natural. They’re weeds. They have to 
be. My mother said so. 
LESLIE 
Is your mother a gardening expert? Why listen to her advice at all? 
(Gestures to DOROTHY’s phone.) 
Given the current state of your yard, surely that puts some doubt into your head about 
your mother’s quote-unquote “expertise.”  
(Beat.) 
Is it your mother’s house? Why does her opinion mean so much to you? 
DOROTHY 
It’s my grandmother’s old house. She left it to me when she passed. I think… I think she 
left it to help after I graduated college.  
(Laughs ruefully.) 
My parents almost forced me to drop out. Said it wasn’t… proper for a woman to be 
going to college. But… I wanted to. And I think my grandma knew that. She convinced 
them to let me finish my bachelors… I think, in some weird way, it’s her way of looking 
out for me after she had gone.  
(Beat.) 
My name is on the deed but my parents throw a fit whenever I try to change something. 
Say my grandmother would be appalled by whatever I want to do. I want a red front 
door? They tell me it has to be white. I want Edwardian inspired crown molding? They 
say it’s too outdated. I mean…How could I not trust them. They’ve lasted this long 
haven’t they? If they didn’t know what they were doing… 
(Clenches her fists.) 
My mother’s lawn is pristine. Perfect. Normal. I don’t understand how she does it. It 
just…comes easily for her. She just keeps things the way she wants. The way… The way 
it’s supposed to be. But I just can’t! Mine just looks too… stiff. Too… unnatural. I just 
feel like everyone can tell that I’m trying too hard to make it work. But I just… 
 
7 
LESLIE 
(Gently, putting a hand on DOROTHY’s arm) 
I have seen many different people come through with all different things they thought 
were weeds. Lavender, Pansies, Violets… But they’re not new. They’re not unnatural. 
(Beat.) 
If they grow there naturally, then they are meant to be there.  
DOROTHY forcefully pulls her arm 
away from LESLIE’s touch. 
LESLIE 
(Sighs.) 
Look… There’s not much I can do to get rid of the violets. If I get you anything to kill the 
violets, it’ll fuck with the rest of your yard. Forever.  
(Beat.)  
Is it really worth it? Are you willing to destroy everything just to keep it down? 
DOROTHY turns around, walking 
towards the door. She stops just 
before she walks out, hand on the 
handle. 
DOROTHY 
(Whispered) 
It’s not fair. I shouldn’t have to. 
LESLIE 
(Urgently.) 
Then don’t. Let it grow. And see what comes of it.  
DOROTHY 
(Beat.) 
Will it be quick? For it… my lawn I mean… to heal?  
8 
LESLIE 
There’s a long road ahead. But it is worth it. Worth the wait. As time goes on… you’ll 
understand that.  
(Beat.) 
It’s hard to see now, with the state it’s currently in. But you’ll make it. Many others 
before you have. And many more after you will too. Nature’s funny like that. She just 
needs a helping hand from time to time. 
DOROTHY 
(Beat. Then she nods.) 
I’ll need some fertilizer. 
LESLIE 
(Stands, gestures to DOROTHY) 
I have some in the back.  
DOROTHY walks over to LESLIE 
and follows LESLIE towards the back 
of the shop. They exit. 
THE END 


Resilient Wild Violets

Setting:  A modest, cozy living room with a TV.
Director: Ashley Chavez
Actors: Elyse Byron, Taylor Baird
Fitness Instructor/Stage Directions: Katrina Spencer Fenne

Jaber, Basil

Character List 
 
 
 
ELEANOR:      A woman in her 70s. Mark’s Mother. 
 
MARK:      A man in his 30s. Eleanor’s son. 
 
 
 
 
 
Setting 
 
A modest, cozy living room with a TV.  
 
 
 
Time 
 
The present.  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Dance Partner
written by
Basil Jaber
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
(ELEANOR sits on the couch with her 
arms crossed. Crouched in front of 
her is her son, MARK. Behind him, a 
TV plays an aerobic video.) 
 
MARK
Please, Ma. The doctor says you have to get 
your steps in. 
 
ELEANOR
You can’t trust anything out of the mouth of a 
person who wears sunglasses indoors. 
 
MARK
For the last time, he wasn’t wearing 
sunglasses. His glasses lenses tint in the 
sun, and he was coming from outside. It’s for 
eye protection. 
 
ELEANOR
Well, he needs to protect his reputation 
because they make him look ridiculous. 
 
MARK
(Groans.)
I don’t get it. You love to dance. 
 
ELEANOR
(Pointing to TV.)
You call that dancing? 
 
MARK
We can change it to a different video if you 
want.  
 
ELEANOR
Don’t bother. I don’t like dancing anymore. 
 
MARK
What happened? 
 
ELEANOR
I got old. 
 
MARK
You’re never too old to dance. 
 
ELEANOR
It’s not the same. Nothing is anymore. My 
balance and vision are gone. I can barely hear 
anything, let alone the music. I don’t think 
the Macarena is gonna fix my hearing. 
 
MARK 
Your hearing? What’s wrong with your hearing--
 
ELEANOR
(Exaggerated.)
WHAT?! 
 
MARK
(Rolls his eyes.)
I’m being serious. The trash is always full, 
and the plants are dying of dehydration.  
 
ELEANOR
I water them... sometimes. Cut me some slack, 
I’m not a... what’s the word? 
 
MARK
Gardener?
 
ELEANOR
No, that’s not it.
 
MARK
Maybe you’d remember if you did the exercises. 
The doctor said dancing helps with memory. 
 
ELEANOR
There’s nothing wrong with my memory.  
 
MARK
(Serious tone.)
Your last five bills have been past due. 
 
ELEANOR
I never had to pay the bills, or take out the 
trash, or water the plants. Your father always 
did those things!
 
MARK
I know, Ma.  
 
ELEANOR
You’re asking me to do things I’ve never had 
to do before.
 
MARK
I’m just asking you to dance!
 
ELEANOR
And I can’t dance without my partner!
 
(ELEANOR gets up from the couch and 
storms out of the room. MARK puts 
his head down in defeat, then lifts 
it as if he has thought of 
something. MARK changes the aerobic 
video to a new video. 
2.
As the music plays, ELEANOR appears 
in the doorway, her face softened 
as she fidgets with the wedding 
ring on her finger.)
 
ELEANOR
This song. It’s...
 
MARK
You and Dad’s wedding song. 
 
(ELEANOR meets MARK in the middle 
of the room.)
 
ELEANOR
(Tearing up.)
I miss him. 
 
MARK
I miss him too.
 
(MARK AND ELEANOR embrace in a hug. 
ELEANOR buries her face into his 
chest.)
 
MARK
I want you to know that, no matter how hard 
things get, as long as I’m here, you will 
always have a dance partner. 
 
(MARK extends a hand, inviting her 
to dance. ELEANOR stares at his 
hand, debating. Then, ELEANOR takes 
it. They slowly dance to the old, 
familiar song, twirling around the 
room.)
 
ELEANOR
(Abruptly.)
A botanist! 
 
MARK
(Chuckling.)
What?
 
ELEANOR
A botanist. An expert in plants. That’s the 
word I was thinking of.
 
(MARK twirls her gently. ELEANOR 
rests her head on his shoulder and 
closes her eyes, basking in the 
moment.)  
3.


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Table of Contents

Illuminated Hope

Navigating Neurodiversity in the Age of AI Harnessing Opportunities, Addressing Challenges

Resilient Wild Violets

Dance Partner

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