Caroline Brustowicz. Storm. Grade 12, Age 18. 2011 Silver Key, Painting.

Excerpted from Scholastic’s On Our Minds blog. Click here for the full post by Lia Zneimer.

It’s been six months since Hurricane Sandy struck the East Coast, destroying hundreds of thousands of homes, businesses, and schools, and leaving a devastating path of destruction in its wake. The damage was severe, but from the tragedy also came inspiring stories of courage and resilience. We all respond to tragedies like Sandy in different ways: some volunteer to deliver supplies to those in need; others pledge their time to disaster-relief organizations or donate money to organizations like the Red Cross. And some respond with art or writing that beautifully encapsulates the experience itself.

This year, the Scholastic Art & Writing Awards, received dozens of submissions that dealt with Sandy and its aftermath. One such piece was by 12-year-old Leigh Brooks from Brooklin, ME, who received a Gold Key for Poetry. As National Poetry Month draws to a close, we thought it’d be a perfect time to share Leigh’s poem:

Hurricane Sandy

Hurricane Sandy
A behemoth of a storm
Travels her slow path across the Gulf of Mexico
Intent on the juicy prize: the New England coast

Cities lie far away in the distance,
She tires of water,
She hungers for the feast of buildings
The crunchy cold concrete, the white-washed walls Read More

Alexandra Huey. Woodland Creature (a detail). Grade 8, Age 13. 2012 Gold Medal, Digital Art. Listen to Alexandra discuss her winning work here.

Happy Earth Day! April’s Writing of the Month comes from Elijah Santner, Age 15, of New Paltz, NY, who won a Gold Key this year for his poem that celebrates the very ground we walk on, “I Believe in Dirt”. You can watch Elijah read his winning poem aloud on YouTube. Enjoy!

I was thirteen years old,
when my science teacher told me that dirt was a bad thing.
She claimed that if it were a good thing, we would call it “soil”
I was always upset about that.

What gave her the right
to label one kind of Earthly matter better than another?
I would walk into class,
My shoes heavy with mud
That felt warm and bright under my
Discount rack sneakers
and she would say
“Elijah, you can’t come in here with all that dirt.”
And I wanted to say
If only you knew
What it meant to run with
Bare feet through soft fields in the early morning,
With the earth still damp
From the dew of the dawn. Read More

Tisha Antique. Science of Love. Grade 12, Age 17. 2012 Gold Medal. Tisha’s drawing portrays the thoughts of a person who is trying to find the logic in love. Through her art, she wants to remind everyone to cherish the intangible, and to just go with it! Listen to Tisha discuss her work here.

Happy Valentine’s Day! February’s Writing of the Month comes from Jordan Myers, Age 18, of Alexandria, VA. Jordan admits to being a science geek and tries to make sense of love in his Gold Medal-winning Humor piece by developing a theory to explain the dating process. Learn about his journey below and listen to him discuss his work here!

Abstract
Dating is confusing to those unfamiliar with its rules and regulations. The strange signals that are used by both sides, the inevitable miscommunications that occur, and the discouraging awkwardness that permeates the environment, all conspire to make this vital component of life so difficult to obtain. It appears that each gender has a dissimilar set of standards and perceptions in which they operate, which only serve to maximize confusion. Read More

Elizabeth Brown. The Pond. Grade 12, Age 18. 2012 Gold Medal, Drawing. Listen to Elizabeth discuss her work here.

January’s Writing of the Month comes from Ben Caldwell, Age 17, of Vancouver, Washington. His poem “Around the Campfire” is featured on the home page of our website this week along with Elizabeth Brown’s Gold Medal-winning drawing “The Pond” (above). Each week we will be showcasing 2 national winning works (1 art and 1 writing) from the past year on our home page slider bar. We hope you’ll take some time to enjoy each piece and learn more about the young artists and writers behind them! Below is a few poems from Ben Caldwell‘s 2012 Gold Medal- winning poetry collection.
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Around the Campfire

There is a place
between marrow and bone,
between midnight and morrow,
where we are flies floundering in honey.
A place where heartbeats quicken
and minds slow, slow, slow down.
Where even the light is listless
and the texture of denim is dimmed.
There I find solace
in counting your freckles,
in that place with a small pile of bundled socks
between atoms,
between the earth and the sky.
Read More

Sabrina De La Cerda. Whimsical Snowman. Grade 8, Age 13. 2012 Gold Key, Drawing.

The following short story comes from Alexa Langen, Age 18, from Key Biscayne, Florida. It won an American Voices Award in the 2012 Scholastic Art & Writing Awards.

Proud, stolid, surveying his kingdom with stone eyes, the snowman towers over the silent white garden. From behind the distant house the afternoon sun reaches out and catches a bead of water, which drips from the snowman’s carrot nose and seeps into his woolen scarf. His body is the pure white of the fresh snow that bedecks the yard, undisturbed except for where the two tracks of footsteps wend their way to the base of the ephemeral monument.

Where the footsteps end, two young children stand hand-in-hand and admire their creation.

“He’s perfect,” the girl says. “Wait.” She fixes some of the scarf’s tassels. “Now he’s perfect. No…” She makes some minor adjustment to his buttons and stepped back, eyeing him critically.

“Hailey,” the boy says.

“Maybe he needs a hat,” Hailey says.

“Hailey,” he says again. “Hailey, listen.”

“What, Brennan?” She turns at last to look at her little brother, annoyed that he would interrupt her careful inspection. Read More

Untitled. Audrey Bell. Grade 10, Age 15. 2012 Gold Medal, Painting.

This 2012 Scholastic Award-winning story comes from Natalie Shoultz, Age 14, from Coralville, Iowa. It won a national Silver Medal in the Science Fiction/Fantasy category.

A moonless night. Stars spot the sky, creating a never ending web of light through the pitch-blackness. They make me feel so small, insignificant.

Suddenly, a shooting star streaks the sky. One blinding array of light, gone in a flash. I smile at it happily. I feel content, comfortable, here in my small space. I love my world. I wish I didn’t have to leave so soon.

But my time is running out. I wish I didn’t have to go. But I do. I always do. Read More