DigitalCommons@C.O.D.

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 46 
Number 1 Fall 2023 Article 5 
Fall 12-1-2023 
Editorial Team 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
(2023) "Editorial Team," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 46: No. 1, Article 5. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol46/iss1/5 
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. 
About
The Prairie Light Review is the liberal arts journal of the College of 
DuPage. This biannual journal seeks to showcase the diverse work 
produced by creative individuals surrounding us. Our publication exists 
entirely because of our loyal community, as we only accept submissions 
from District 502 and rely on our team of student editors to edit, format, 
and produce the literary journal. Each piece submitted is evaluated 
anonymously in order to ensure objectivity. 
Join
To join our Editorial team, enroll in English 2210 for the upcoming 
semester! 
Direct additional inquiries to: 
 Trina Sotirakopulos, Faculty Advisor
 sotirakopulost@cod.edu
 630-942-2177
Rolling Submissions
The Prairie Light Review accepts submissions throughout the academic 
year. We accept submissions of any in the following categories: 
original fiction, nonfiction, essays, drama, poetry, graphic essays, 
black and white and color photography, and 2D and 3D artwork of 
any medium. If you are interested, please submit all work to:
 prairielightreviewsubmissions@gmail.com
Scholarship Info
The Budilovsky Literary Scholarship provides one $500 award per 
semester in conjunction with being published in the College of DuPage’s 
Prairie Light Review. To be considered for this award, the entrant must 
remain a student at COD the following semester and have written a 
quality piece of any type (i.e., essay, poem, short story, etc.). Preference 
will be made to pieces that are autobiographical in nature.
More at: 
        
                      @cod_plr
        
prairielightreview.com 
cod.edu/student_life/publications/prairie_light_review
Editorial Team
 Editor in Chief 
 - Bee Bishop
 Production Editor 
 - Alex Albillar
 Marketing Editor 
 - Cuyler Martin
 
 Associate Editor
 - Noah McBrien
 Assistant Editors 
 - Danielle Fugate
 - Isabella Sarussi-Barys
 - Mia Maglicic
 - Joseph Conroy
 
 Faculty Advisor 
 - Trina Sotirakopulos
Editor’s Note
 Prairie Light Review is a lot more than a literary arts journal. 
For most, it is the embodiment of the creative spirit of Community 
College District 502. For some, it is a stepping stone to a further 
career in the arts. For others, it is a way to share secret depths within 
themselves with others. For me, it is a snapshot of the community at this 
specific moment in time. A snapshot of the hopes and dreams, of the 
fears and conflicts, of the triumphs and the failures. 
 The thing about snapshots is they only represent what hap-
pens in one specific moment. Meaning we still have a chance to grow, 
to change, to be better than we were before. This PLR issue stands as 
a reminder of where and who we are, and the past issues remind us 
of where and who we were. 
 This fall semester, the world has faced some terrifying 
challenges, most of which we are still working through. I hope that 
this reminder inspires you all to go forth and chase those hopes and 
dreams, to face those fears and conflicts, and to accept those triumphs 
and failures. 
 The PLR editors would like to send a special thank you to all 
our submitters who have sent work to PLR over the years. Semester 
after semester, the editors chose the pieces that stood out to us and 
spoke to something deeper within ourselves. Such an incredible jour-
nal like this stands out because of the creative, talented, and dedicat-
ed community that we have surrounding us. 
 We’d also like to say a quick thank you to our advisor Trina     
Sotirakopulos, for her help in guiding us in making this issue a reality. 
On behalf of all the editors here at PLR, I am pleased to present 
Volume 46, Issue 1 of Prairie Light Review. 
-Bee Bishop, Prairie Light Review Editor-in-Chief
32
1
et al.: Editorial Team
Published by DigitalCommons@COD, 2023


English

Editorial Team

Pattanaik, Mina

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 46 
Number 1 Fall 2023 Article 17 
Fall 12-1-2023 
A Miracle 
Mina Pattanaik 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Pattanaik, Mina (2023) "A Miracle," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 46: No. 1, Article 17. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol46/iss1/17 
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. 
Lightning struck twice in our backyard and 
we didn’t blink. Dad picked the branches off 
the ground and threw them in with the firewood. 
The sky sat in a bright flash of white for days 
like we were frozen in heaven or maybe hell. 
We didn’t blink. Dad told us it’s no good to dwell 
so we ignored the burning house. If I close my eyes 
I can taste the smoke in my lungs and I’m 
relieved I can taste anything at all. 
We didn’t blink. Dad says lightning won’t strike 
the same spot a third time but before that he said 
it never strikes twice. I wake up at night 
to phantom thunderclaps and wonder if this is 
when I’ll die. We didn’t blink. We moved on. 
We don’t dwell. The house is ashes now.
The one witness to my life
Tells me who I am
I have triumphed
And surrendered
I am loyal
And I am ashamed
Do I nurture hope for the 
smallest affections?
For a mother, which parts 
of myself do I owe?
The one witness to my life
Someone who really saw me
I have loved you
And I have lied
I have loved you
And sacrificed
Do I want to be loved or do I 
want to feel needed?
For a mother, are they the same 
thing?
A Miracle _Mina Pattanaik
I, Mother _BrittanyAnn Schumacher
Mother-Daughter Bonding, Ink On Paper _Natalia G. Toreeva
1918
1
Pattanaik: A Miracle
Published by DigitalCommons@COD, 2023


A Miracle

Schumacher, BrittanyAnn

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 46 
Number 1 Fall 2023 Article 47 
Fall 12-1-2023 
Grace 
BrittanyAnn Schumacher 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Schumacher, BrittanyAnn (2023) "Grace," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 46: No. 1, Article 47. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol46/iss1/47 
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 destroyed myself before anyone else could get the chance.
For every hesitation in fear, 
my heart fumbles a beat,
burrowed into the trenches of darkness, even they could not 
reach,
a peace.  I rose alone.
For every joy, the hate impenetrable. 
I have witnessed the worst in myself and let her live.
For the eternity in an instant of pain,
I can still laugh.
For every malice yearning eviction,
a gratitude armed true,
ready and 
waiting.
Ocean of Emotion, Acrylic on Canvas _Huma Anwar Grace _BrittanyAnn Schumacher
4746
1
Schumacher: Grace
Published by DigitalCommons@COD, 2023


Grace

Meade, Aidan

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 46 
Number 1 Fall 2023 Article 64 
Fall 12-1-2023 
untitled 
Aidan Meade 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Meade, Aidan (2023) "untitled," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 46: No. 1, Article 64. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol46/iss1/64 
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. 
From under my skin
those intrusive thoughts fester,
tentacles gnawing on my arteries,
blood, the source of power.
Darker, deadlier
those envious eyes, alluding,
my mouth drinking from 
the cup of tiresome tragedies.
There is a reluctant burden,
behind every delicate beauty,
behind every smiling mask.
Eardrums bursting from the shriek-
ing,
torture of my beloved angels, 
sickening.
The bells tolling, for I cannot hear 
you,
my love blinded by my somber 
thoughts
with tape entombing me to the 
table,
weary, as my shriveled dark mind 
is lost.
Eating further and further in
where my lungs have dried up.
So tired, my heart beating slowly
pausing only for the important moments.
Lampshades too bright for my dusty new 
eyes
the light so fond when praised by the 
darkness.
Little cold stars shimmer into the night,
dangling above my hanging head they 
sleep.
A shadow looming over the wooden 
surface,
casting a deadly spell, a binding curse 
over me.
Living in a lie, a miniscule world,
while feeling emotions so immense,
while mourning inside this house of 
horrors.
With fingernails so utterly long
they curl around my appendages,
so encapsulating, a keratin prison
unbreakable, unable to live freely.
With luminous eyes no longer dusty,
those scissors become so fearsome
when they trim my paper-thin figure
leaving holes where my sight used to be.
Paper Fingernails Imprisoning My Body _Adam Sana untitled, Acrylic On Canvas _Aidan Meade
How long is the process of regression?
Crawling, you cry to be heard,
but from my perception of utter discretion,
lying, you’re the killer of the word.
Searching, your crying to be cured
with not a whisper to be found,
eyes, watery teardrops only blurred
such somber succulence to be crowned.
Amongst these destinies you have drowned,
through the delicacy of the hypnotic door
mundane melodies camping under the ground
that escape lingers without a soul’s core.
With luckier fingertips to win the war
golden statues bow to you with a question,
every corpse becomes dust across the floor.
How long is the process of regression?
Unlucky Child _Adam Sana
6362
1
Meade: untitled
Published by DigitalCommons@COD, 2023


untitled

Okarski, Luiza

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 46 
Number 1 Fall 2023 Article 66 
Fall 12-1-2023 
Sleeping Soundly 
Luiza Okarski 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Okarski, Luiza (2023) "Sleeping Soundly," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 46: No. 1, Article 66. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol46/iss1/66 
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. 
In the shadows of my room
Something spelled impending doom.
A figure with a smile
From it, dripping bile.
I closed my eyes but could still see
The broken figure inching towards me.
I tried to scream but my voice was no good
The creature was the same, as I’ve seen in the woods.
I tried to run but it was too late
Suppose it’s been a while since the monster ate.
I tried to yell, I tried to hide
Didn’t think it would ever come inside.
I used to see it between the trees
Sometimes they would hunt in threes.
Its jaws were open, they looked so strong
Looked like it was laughing, but something went wrong.
Its head shot to the left and then to the right
The look in its eyes…I think it was fright.
There was a rumble, then a roar
And finally a sound, like a wounded boar. 
The wretched thing at the end of my bed
Cowered in the corner as my heart filled with dread.
If this thing was scared, what should I be?
I shut my eyes tighter, why can I still see!?
Slowly but surely, the noises grew louder
A snarl, a growl, it was coming from under
Under my bed…UNDER MY BED
The terrified monster jumped up and fled.
It was quiet for a second, and then one more
Before the thing crawled to the middle of my floor.
I couldn’t move my head I could only hear
The clack of its claws, I felt my end was near.
Shaking and crying, yet not ever moving
I felt the pain of my flesh that it was removing.
My bones were cracked, my soul felt broken
But all of a sudden, I had awoken.
I sat there and wept as the sun got higher
How could I explain, without sounding like a liar?
Sleeping Soundly _Luiza Okarski
Fi
re
, P
ho
tog
ra
ph
 
 
_J
am
es
 B
ro
nc
o 
Em
m
en
eg
ge
r
6564
1
Okarski: Sleeping Soundly
Published by DigitalCommons@COD, 2023


Sleeping Soundly

Kueking, Sarah

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 46 
Number 1 Fall 2023 Article 68 
Fall 12-1-2023 
After the House Fire 
Sarah Kueking 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Kueking, Sarah (2023) "After the House Fire," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 46: No. 1, Article 68. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol46/iss1/68 
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. 
The day I returned home, 
              the house,
      the structure,
           was but a pile of rubble,
an amnesiac to its own past.
When I used to ride my bike down these streets,
   the buildings longed to meet the sky, 
             r e a c h i n g
             for a rendezvous that they could only achieve
once they and their inhabitants collapsed into dust.
The memories my family and I had once shared
   were now reduced
    to the ash
   of betrayed trust
              and grief-induced madness.
I sifted through the ruins,
          the smoky, sadistically overzealous smell
                  of scorched safe havens 
 and the hint of incinerated inhibitions
overwhelming my consciousness.
In the broken glass from the living room window,
 my sister’s reflection stared back up at me.
         “If you keep talking to me like this, I’m done.”
 My stomach clenched, whispered sorries
lingering in the smoke, choking the life out of the air.
Every time I had to cover my ears to drown out the screams,
              she had been there to chase the monsters away.
    I had grasped her hand then,
             but that last time, I thought she was the enemy.
I stopped listening. Her visits stopped. Her calls stopped.
Looking down at my ashen hands,
I couldn’t help but wonder:
Did I light the match?
When I was about 5 years old, I started to notice that I was different 
from the other little girls in my class. There was no way for my kinder-
garten brain to understand if the differences were positive or neg-
ative, but I just knew that I would attract what seemed like a million 
more stares and crinkled eyebrows than my peers. Those crinkled eye-
brows and intense ‘why is that chunky girl wearing a swimsuit to the 
pool? Doesn’t she have any respect for our eyesight?’ kinds of cruel 
comments have followed me throughout my teenage years and leaked 
into my now 24-year-old daily routine. Little boys never wanting to 
admit they would ever have a crush on me in the third grade has mor-
phed into grown men pretending they don’t know me until it’s midnight 
and they are alone in bed seeking easy company. And crying to my 
mom in a JCPenny dressing room trying on first communion dresses 
has transferred into crying to my mom in a Forever21 dressing room 
trying on 21st birthday dresses. Some things never change but the 
realization that the problem was never the girl counting calories in 
middle school, but rather the surrounding audience that cheered on 
her commitment to do so.  
“You’re not big! You’re beautiful” comments have always echoed 
in and out of my eardrums whenever I reflect on my upbringing to 
anybody who wants to listen. But those comments are exactly the 
problem. Why do those two adjectives have to be so exclusive? Why 
couldn’t I be big AND beautiful? Twelve-year-old me would wonder 
to myself shamefully while looking at the tear-stained pillow pet bur-
ied deep in my grasp. I remember audibly gasping whenever a new 
development sprung to mind. “Doctor Sarah said that all I needed to 
do was grow up a few more years and let my chub stretch out along-
side my height and I will be normal! I’ll finally be pretty.” I can picture 
middle school me smiling, almost gawking at the thought. Oh, to be 
pretty and grown up, and totally NOT a monster to my classmates 
anymore. Little did I know that Doctor Sarah would give up her pedi-
atrics license and go on to be a full-time Uber driver… or at least she 
might as well have with the way she was so incredibly wrong. Well, 
to be fair to her, she was right that my body just needed time. Time 
to grow, time to change, and time to develop multiple eating disor-
ders by the time I was seventeen. And the even more heartbreaking 
development was that my classmates and their opinions were the least 
of my worries. The scary, mean bullies at school were comparable to 
Mother Theresa when you took into account that the real mean, scary 
bullies stemmed right from my family tree.  
I can still remember the first time my family fully let me down. Devel-
oping faster than my classmates and appearing full-figured before 
I even knew what full-figured was, my family collectively decided 
that it was time for some changes in little Mia’s life since Mia wasn’t 
so little anymore. You might say that a reasonable reaction to a child 
naturally growing is to offer support and just let a kid be a kid, but 
my family would say that the kid in question needs to be enrolled in a 
Weight Watchers program immediately.  
Sticks and Stones _Mia StachuraAfter the House Fire _Sarah Kueking
6766
1
Kueking: After the House Fire
Published by DigitalCommons@COD, 2023


After the House Fire

Stachura, Mia

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 46 
Number 1 Fall 2023 Article 69 
Fall 12-1-2023 
Sticks and Stones 
Mia Stachura 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Stachura, Mia (2023) "Sticks and Stones," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 46: No. 1, Article 69. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol46/iss1/69 
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. 
The day I returned home, 
              the house,
      the structure,
           was but a pile of rubble,
an amnesiac to its own past.
When I used to ride my bike down these streets,
   the buildings longed to meet the sky, 
             r e a c h i n g
             for a rendezvous that they could only achieve
once they and their inhabitants collapsed into dust.
The memories my family and I had once shared
   were now reduced
    to the ash
   of betrayed trust
              and grief-induced madness.
I sifted through the ruins,
          the smoky, sadistically overzealous smell
                  of scorched safe havens 
 and the hint of incinerated inhibitions
overwhelming my consciousness.
In the broken glass from the living room window,
 my sister’s reflection stared back up at me.
         “If you keep talking to me like this, I’m done.”
 My stomach clenched, whispered sorries
lingering in the smoke, choking the life out of the air.
Every time I had to cover my ears to drown out the screams,
              she had been there to chase the monsters away.
    I had grasped her hand then,
             but that last time, I thought she was the enemy.
I stopped listening. Her visits stopped. Her calls stopped.
Looking down at my ashen hands,
I couldn’t help but wonder:
Did I light the match?
When I was about 5 years old, I started to notice that I was different 
from the other little girls in my class. There was no way for my kinder-
garten brain to understand if the differences were positive or neg-
ative, but I just knew that I would attract what seemed like a million 
more stares and crinkled eyebrows than my peers. Those crinkled eye-
brows and intense ‘why is that chunky girl wearing a swimsuit to the 
pool? Doesn’t she have any respect for our eyesight?’ kinds of cruel 
comments have followed me throughout my teenage years and leaked 
into my now 24-year-old daily routine. Little boys never wanting to 
admit they would ever have a crush on me in the third grade has mor-
phed into grown men pretending they don’t know me until it’s midnight 
and they are alone in bed seeking easy company. And crying to my 
mom in a JCPenny dressing room trying on first communion dresses 
has transferred into crying to my mom in a Forever21 dressing room 
trying on 21st birthday dresses. Some things never change but the 
realization that the problem was never the girl counting calories in 
middle school, but rather the surrounding audience that cheered on 
her commitment to do so.  
“You’re not big! You’re beautiful” comments have always echoed 
in and out of my eardrums whenever I reflect on my upbringing to 
anybody who wants to listen. But those comments are exactly the 
problem. Why do those two adjectives have to be so exclusive? Why 
couldn’t I be big AND beautiful? Twelve-year-old me would wonder 
to myself shamefully while looking at the tear-stained pillow pet bur-
ied deep in my grasp. I remember audibly gasping whenever a new 
development sprung to mind. “Doctor Sarah said that all I needed to 
do was grow up a few more years and let my chub stretch out along-
side my height and I will be normal! I’ll finally be pretty.” I can picture 
middle school me smiling, almost gawking at the thought. Oh, to be 
pretty and grown up, and totally NOT a monster to my classmates 
anymore. Little did I know that Doctor Sarah would give up her pedi-
atrics license and go on to be a full-time Uber driver… or at least she 
might as well have with the way she was so incredibly wrong. Well, 
to be fair to her, she was right that my body just needed time. Time 
to grow, time to change, and time to develop multiple eating disor-
ders by the time I was seventeen. And the even more heartbreaking 
development was that my classmates and their opinions were the least 
of my worries. The scary, mean bullies at school were comparable to 
Mother Theresa when you took into account that the real mean, scary 
bullies stemmed right from my family tree.  
I can still remember the first time my family fully let me down. Devel-
oping faster than my classmates and appearing full-figured before 
I even knew what full-figured was, my family collectively decided 
that it was time for some changes in little Mia’s life since Mia wasn’t 
so little anymore. You might say that a reasonable reaction to a child 
naturally growing is to offer support and just let a kid be a kid, but 
my family would say that the kid in question needs to be enrolled in a 
Weight Watchers program immediately.  
Sticks and Stones _Mia StachuraAfter the House Fire _Sarah Kueking
6766
1
Stachura: Sticks and Stones
Published by DigitalCommons@COD, 2023
Sometimes when I contemplate my childhood I get a sense of dread 
rushing through my grown-up, full-figured body. It must be the same 
dread that I felt at an after-basketball team dinner when I pulled out 
a calorie tracking book just to make sure the slice of pepperoni pizza 
the waiter slapped on my plate was Weight Watchers approved. Or 
the same dread I felt in the Von Maur dressing room getting fitted 
for an “adult bra” by a random employee who had never seen a girl 
so young having to get professionally fitted for underwire. Now that 
I think about it, I still haven’t forgiven my grandmother for that day, 
even if she was just trying to help.  
The more I let the outside world influence me and take charge of 
me, the more I began to see what they all saw. I looked in the mir-
ror every morning after putting on my Catholic school uniform and 
I would pull and tug at the fabric draping my front side so it didn’t 
cling so much; a habit I still haven’t let go of. My obsession with alter-
ing my clothing quickly snowballed into wearing up to 5 high-impact 
sports bras at any single time. The goal was to make myself appear 
as flat on every side of my body as humanly possible. Only middle 
school Mia would look up to the storybook character Flat Stanley as 
an inspiration. I shake my head as I type this because, when I close 
my eyes, I can still feel the scabs that would develop under my arms 
from where the elastic from the undergarments would dig and drag 
against my flesh. My parents started to beg for me to take them off 
when it was bedtime but I would put up such a fight that we usually 
would compromise with only wearing two sports bras over one of my 
dad’s Carhartt t-shirts so it would create a barrier between me and 
the nylon torture chambers. The scarring eventually got so bad that in 
the seventh grade, a doctor at Good Samaritan hospital questioned 
my family about any physical abuse that might be occurring in the 
household. No, it was just a product of me and my insecurities. I would 
rather constrict myself so much with seven layers of clothing than be 
seen with my natural curves.  
I cannot seem to put a finger on the exact moment it all changed for 
me. It must have been the culture shock of transitioning from a pri-
vate elementary school to a public high school that made me realize 
how important being different was. Instead of trying to blend into 
a crowd that didn’t even treat me with any respect, it was finally my 
chance to be whomever I dreamed of as an emotionally suffering 
middle schooler. My dad was generous enough to lend me money just 
before freshman year to start a new wardrobe… with the promise of 
throwing away any restricting undergarments. And for a while, I loved 
whom I was developing into. But, it was not without its challenges. Even 
in high school, I would often come across a scenario or a comment 
brought by either a peer or a family member that transported me 
right back to the little girl crying into her stuffed animals. And, I would 
be lying if I said all of those insecurities are behind me as a 24-year-
old woman writing this paper. In fact, most of those insecurities that 
other people planted are still inside of my mind somewhere. The real 
challenge is to not allow any water to nourish those plants.
I look back at photos of little Mia and can’t help but tear up a little. 
An always smiling mouth with soulful eyes gleams back at me. The 
water that forms in my ducts gathers quickly as I think about the world 
of hurt projected onto her perfect little mind. I would protect that 
little girl from every danger in the world and fill her mind with love 
and hope and… I pause at the thought and chuckle as a flashback 
of me hesitating to get out of my car earlier today in fear that the 
“Maxxinistas” in the TJ Maxx parking lot would point and laugh at 
me springs into my head. The reality of it all is that no matter how 
much time and therapy has passed, I will always be the girl getting 
pushed into the mud at recess and being sent to a weight loss summer 
camp across the country to try to stop the bullying from her peers. 
She still lives inside of me but now that I’m almost at the age that the 
prefrontal cortex stops developing, I realize that while I cannot pre-
vent people from expressing their opinions, I can control how I react 
to them. Only taking in uplifting and positive energy from others and 
choosing to leave negativity behind is just one of many ways I have 
decided to navigate my life. One would say that’s easier said than 
done and I would have to wholeheartedly agree. But if I didn’t at 
least try, I would be letting down my inner child–just like everybody 
else once did.
And This Is How I Felt, Photograph  _Alexa Solonenko
6968
2
The Prairie Light Review, Vol. 46, No. 1 [2023], Art. 69
https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol46/iss1/69


Sticks and Stones

Markos, Karian

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 46 
Number 1 Fall 2023 Article 71 
Fall 12-1-2023 
phantom 
Karian Markos 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Markos, Karian (2023) "phantom," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 46: No. 1, Article 71. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol46/iss1/71 
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. 
a some color sky hovers above us
you and I
breathe the same current
one faces right
one faces left
I leave an impression quickly swallowed 
before a glimpse of my shadow
tells you I had been lying there
He is not identified
in the photograph of the Dauphin 
Juniors
hockey team 1926-27
squeezed between Captain Scrase
and George “Troque” Heard
who of course signed
with the Rangers, 1927.
He is standing with the rest
wanting, it looks, to smile
but maybe not sure
if that’s what you do
in a hockey photograph.
Wearing his jersey
proud flying D on the chest
real leather gloves
and shin pads
or maybe just thick magazines
stuffed down striped socks.
This is the decade before
threshing gangs made a dollar a day
and the depression
strangled the prairies
though hockey became more popular 
then:
fewer people worked.
I couldn’t tell you anything
about this hockey player
though he is preserved in
Dogtown to Dauphin.
His life may have been
as crooked as “Squee” Heard’s
who told the Rangers
that his brother Troque was a boozer, 
or
it could have been
straight and simple
as his hockey stick.
(solidified)
my whisper crept behind your eyes
and constructed a vision so clear
you touch the space my words created
beneath an invisible blanket
I sleep soundly tucked under the same
phantom _Karian Markos
Not Identified _Jason Snart
Contemplative Moment By The Sea, Mixed Media Collage _Tania Blanco
Wandering Fantasy One of a Kind 
Brooch/Necklace, Jewelry 
_Aleksandra Vali
7170
1
Markos: phantom
Published by DigitalCommons@COD, 2023


phantom

Rozier, Darianna

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 46 
Number 1 Fall 2023 Article 79 
Fall 12-1-2023 
A Beautiful Ghost Story 
Darianna Rozier 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Rozier, Darianna (2023) "A Beautiful Ghost Story," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 46: No. 1, Article 79. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol46/iss1/79 
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. 
If I could,
Maybe I’d do it today
So long to the days of me
Only living in the moment.
Reflecting, no more sleeping
Regrets lie unchecked.
“You only need to try.”
If I can,
Maybe I’ll do it tomorrow
Time is tick-tick-ticking quickly,
Remember what lies behind
You as you struggle
In an effort to stop the thoughts.
Not enough, never
Give up
Perspective on Changing _Cuyler Martin
A Beautiful Ghost Story, Photograph  _Dariana Rozier
7776
1
Rozier: A Beautiful Ghost Story
Published by DigitalCommons@COD, 2023


A Beautiful Ghost Story

In the wake of the COVID-19 crisis, a renewed global focus on standards of public health and biomedical research has laid bare problems of critical importance: how can governments best support their research infrastructure, and to what extent is international cooperation crucial to these systems? This essay explores the above questions by positing the German state as a case study for examining the interrelationships among scientific innovation, public health, and government intervention. The extent of this intervention is analyzed with the aid of data regarding German federal expenditures on research and development, as well as an overview of major public research institutions. The latter half of this essay explores Germany’s participation in global research consortia and the potential implications of this international cooperation for the future of medical research

Briere, Reagan

Reagan Briere 
GERMA-2251 
 
In the wake of the COVID-19 crisis, a renewed global focus on standards of public health and 
biomedical research has laid bare problems of critical importance: how can governments best support 
their research infrastructure, and to what extent is international cooperation crucial to these systems? 
This essay explores the above questions by positing the German state as a case study for examining the 
interrelationships among scientific innovation, public health, and government intervention. The extent 
of this intervention is analyzed with the aid of data regarding German federal expenditures on research 
and development, as well as an overview of major public research institutions. The latter half of this 
essay explores Germany’s participation in global research consortia and the potential implications of this 
international cooperation for the future of medical research. Recent and prospective developments 
such as the COVID vaccine 
 
 
Medizinische Forschung und Wissenschaftlicher Fortschritt in Deutschland 
In den vergangenen Jahren ist Deutschland besonders als Land der modernen Medizin 
und Forschungseinrichtungen bekannt. Jedoch wegen der Corona-Krise wird die 
wissenschaftliche Situation der Welt heute verändert: Forscher und Forscherinnen weltweit 
haben die Möglichkeit und das Mandat, intensiver zusammenzuarbeiten, und das deutsche 
Forschungssystem wird heute noch auf den Prüfstand gestellt. Wie wird aber das 
Forschungssystem Deutschlands finanziert und unterstützt, und wie umfangreich ist dieses 
System? Genießt eigentlich der durchschnittliche Deutsche ein besseres Gesundheitssystem im 
Vergleich mit anderen Ländern? Endlich kommt man zu einer Thema, die heutzutage besonders 
wichtig ist: Wie erfolgreich kooperieren deutsche Forscherinnen und Forscher mit ihren 
Kollegen auf der ganzen Welt, und warum ist Internationalität wichtiger als nie zuvor? 
In Deutschland ist erfolgreiche Forschung mit der Bundesregierung und Unterstützung 
vom Staat stark verbunden. Zum Beispiel in Deutschland werden etwa 30 Prozent der Forschung 
und Entwicklung (auch genannt “R & D” auf Englisch) vom Steuergeld finanziert (“Federal and 
State Governments”). Laut des Bundesministeriums für Bildung und Forschung zählt die 
Bundesregierung ungefähr €18.8 Milliarden pro Jahr um Forscherinnen und Forscher zu 
unterstützen, und die Länder zählen zusätzlich ungefähr €12.7 Milliarden. Auf globaler Ebene 
übertrifft Deutschland fast alle anderen Länder mit seinen außergewöhnlich hohen 
Forschungsinvestitionen. Genau wie in den USA oder anderen Ländern gibt es in Deutschland 
eine Vielfalt Privatunternehmen, die nach Innovationen forschen. Es gibt aber auch vier 
übergreifende Institutionen in Deutschland--die Helmholtz-Gemeinschaft, die Fraunhofer 
Gesellschaft, die Leibniz Gemeinschaft, und die Max-Planck-Gemeinschaft--die staatlich 
geförderte Forschung führen und sponsern (Boytchev). Oft sind diese große Institutionen sehr 
erfolgreich, und die Initiative einzelner Wissenschaftler kommt nicht zu kurz. Zum Beispiel hat 
die französische Forscherinnen Emmanuelle Charpentier im Jahr 2020 den Nobelpreis für 
Chemie bekommt, nachdem sie die Max-Planck-Forschungsstelle für die Wissenschaft der 
Pathogene (MPUSP) mit der Unterstützung der Max-Planck-Gesellschaft gegründet hatte 
(“Max-Planck-Gesellschaft”). 
Laut der ehemaligen deutschen Kanzlerin Angela Merkel gehen wissenschaftliche 
Exzellenz und Internationalität “Hand in Hand--es ist wichtig, auch über die Grenzen von 
Institutionen und Ländern hinweg zu arbeiten” (“Angela Merkel”). Im Jahr 2021 bedeutet das, 
dass Forscherinnen und Forscher in Konsortien mit Partnern aus verschiedenen Ländern arbeiten 
1
Briere: Medizinische Forschung und Wissenschaftlicher Fortschritt in Deut
Published by DigitalCommons@COD, 2023
müssen, um dieses immer komplexere Gesundheitsforschungssystem zu führen. Zum Beispiel 
hat das Bundesministerium für Bildung und Forschung als erklärtes Ziel, sich an vielen 
europäischen und internationalen Forschungsprogrammen zu beteiligen, um wichtige 
Forschungsergebnisse auszutauschen; dazu beteiligt sich die Bundesregierung mit 
Förderorganisationen aus anderen Ländern am Aufbau von Ressourcen in Bereichen wie 
klinische Forschung, Datenbanken, und Krankheitsmodelle (“Medizinische Forschung”). Durch 
medizinische Forschung in Deutschland werden bedeutende Entwicklungen wie 
Covid-Impfstoffe und medizinische KI-Diagnosesysteme mit der ganzen Welt geteilt. In fast 
jedem Land bleibt medizinische Forschung wichtiges Teil der Wissenschaft und Regierung; 
Deutschland bleibt jedoch ein Paradebeispiel für die Bedeutung der Internationalität, Innovation, 
und Modernität des medizinischen Fortschritts. 
Works Cited 
“Angela Merkel: ‘Seien Sie stolz auf Ihr schönes Kleinod.’” Max-Delbrück-Centrum für 
Molekulare Medizin, 26 Feb. 2019, 
www.mdc-berlin.de/de/news/news/angela-merkel-seien-sie-stolz-auf-ihr-schoenes-kleino 
d. 
Boytchev, Hristio. “How Germany retains one of the world’s strongest research reputations.” 
Nature, 25 Nov. 2020, www.nature.com/articles/d41586-020-03318-w. 
“Federal and State Governments.” Federal Ministry of Education and Research, 26 Jan. 2021, 
www.research-in-germany.org/en/research-funding/funding-organisations/federal-and-stat 
e-governments.html. 
“Max-Planck-Gesellschaft.” Bundesministerium für Bildung und Forschung, 
www.bmbf.de/bmbf/de/forschung/das-wissenschaftssystem/forschungspartner/max-planc 
k-gesellschaft/max-planck-gesellschaft.html. 
“Medizinische Forschung in Europa Und Der Welt.” Bundesministerium für Bildung und 
Forschung, 
www.bmbf.de/bmbf/de/forschung/gesundheit/medizinische-forschung-in-europa-und-derwelt/ 
medizinische-forschung-in-europa-und-der-welt_node.html. 
2
COD in Lingua, Vol. 2, Iss. 1 [2023], Art. 2
https://dc.cod.edu/codinlingua/vol2/iss1/2


College of DuPage

Not a member yet