Hanukah

By Rachelle David

Bright

Endless

But not bliss

Watching the glow

Touching so slightly, kiss

I lean, extending far to blow

My gut aches along the restraint, too low

These lights have burned for too long, I must make this right

Air pours out of my lips but why so slow?

Flames are still there; they will not go

Something must be amiss

Comes a soft doe

I puff this

Yes! Bliss!

Night

Looking Back

Looking Back: A College Freshman's Perspective

By Jon Weinreich

 It’s hard to put into words exactly how well North Shore prepares you for life beyond high school. The subtle differences between high school and college are especially accentuated freshman year, when most students are just realizing exactly how difficult the next four years are going to be. It turns out that all of those days spent in class until the final bell rang at 4:40 were worth it, as most of my friends ended school around 2 PM, and subsequently “burn out” much faster. The little things, like being able to explain any Calculus topic to anyone taking Calculus I or II, just because you learned it so well in high school, or the analytical thinking skills that come out of four years of discussion of Talmud, or even learning the physics of a ball rolling down a ramp (a problem that ended up being a lab here in college!), make you miss the halls of North Shore Hebrew Academy.

The Man Behind the Mask

by Cayla Gold

Phone buzzing,

Emails bleeping,

Parents waiting,

Linda calling.

And the clock reads only five after eight.

A typical day for Dr. Vitow.

One may view Dr. Vitow

As merely the principal

Of North Shore Hebrew Academy High School.

But words cannot explain

All that he does for each and every one of his students,

And to make sure that the school continues to run smoothly.

This is man who:

Personally meets

With every student and parent,

Signs every test,

Remembers grades,

Who changes schedules

To accommodate students,

Runs an entire staff,

Not only consisting of secular studies (and teachers),

But Judaic ones as well,

Surely this man has powers,

Extending beyond those of an average being.

School is about academics.

Learning is of utmost importance.

Dr. Vitow understands that

Imagination and the creative

Process are a part of this.

The creation of something new

And original is exciting, and

Dr. Vitow takes great pride in

Reading student work, he

Encourages everyone at the

School to look for ways to

Expand themselves and their

Horizons.

Whether it is the newest fashion club,

Or a poetry slam,

Dr. Vitow supports,

The arts and musical aspects of his school.

He encourages students,

To explore and expand.

This superhero chessed man

Also holds fundraisers,

To help those less fortunate.

Interaction is one of Dr. Vitow’s

Superpowers.

Whether in the hallway or the

Confines of his busy office, he

Always gives his full attention,

Looks you in the eye.

He is not stiff the way one might

Expect a headmaster to be.

Instead he is engaged,

He puts you at ease.

Dr. Vitow is reassuring and confident.

He knows how to push for

Success and motivate.

You never feel insignificant in his presence.

Looking around his office,

Gifts from classes graduated decorate.

It is evident that Dr. Vitow has

Been touched by his pupils

As much as he had made

An impression upon them.

No matter the situation,

Dr Vitow always manages to stay calm.

He is the rock that the school leans on.

One of the many heroic acts of Dr. Vitow,

Took place during Hurricane Sandy.

He himself was displaced,

But Dr. Vitow put aside his own personal needs,

To make sure the school was put back in order.

He did not stop till the job was done.

He was the superhero of the event.

Dr. Vitow is more than the principal of NSHAHS.

He is the father of the beautiful family he created,

By specifically choosing each and every student and teacher,

That would not only help the school grow academically,

But also as a family.

Dr. Vitow is the father of this large,

Yet intimate mishpachah.

He works non-stop to support this family,

But still finds the time,

To be there for special and meaningful moments.

He is a superhero father, and

There is nobody else like him.

And at the end of the day,

There is no cloak and mask,

That belongs to this man.

Just a suit,

And a blackberry.

He does not live in school,

Despite some theories.

He too has a family and home,

To which he returns each evening.

I guess that is what makes him so spectacular.

He has set the standard of a true role model,

A success we all strive for.

Creative Combustion

by Sarah Silverstein

With my legs crossed right over left and my hands placed comfortably in my lap, I sat in the main sanctuary. As Monday morning had come yet again, I found myself feeling as if I had never left the building. I sat and listened to the turning pages of the Siddurim, a cough here and there, but mostly, I listened to silence. My eyes scanned the back of the room, traveling from one familiar face to the next. Suddenly, my view shifted, my eyes met the stained glass windows. I had seen these windows many times before; why had I just then noticed their beauty? I was hypnotized by their different colors, captivated by their seamless fluidity. I could feel the gears in my head being to turn. My imagination had been kicked in the butt! As thoughts ran a mile a minuet, my brain struggled to match their pace. I reached for a piece of paper as millions of feelings and fragmented of ideas poured out of my mind.  The words: “Learn all the beautiful sounding words in Italian” and “Create edible tape” made their way onto my notepad.  I was a creative mess, practically bleeding ideas. I didn’t know how my thoughts were connected, I didn’t know how they were sparked, but somehow the stained glass windows had awoken something inside of me. After feeling such a strong connection to my unconscious thought, my creativity, my imagination, I realized that I could not let go of this inspiration. I had gotten lucky; inspiration had somehow just hit me. From then on I refused to take my creativity for granted. As so famously said by Jack London “You can’t wait for inspiration, you have to go after it with a club.”

Nothing but the Truth

A review of a Freshman English Summer Reading Book by Mollie Bartell

Have you ever thought about how a lie could affect your life? How it might change someone else's life? Phillip Malloy learns about lying the hard way in Nothing but the Truth by Avi. When his English teacher, Miss Narwin, gives him a bad grade, Phillip makes Miss Narwin's life very difficult. He disrespectfully sings the National Anthem when the students have to be silent, causing him to be suspended from school. 

Phillip's suspension becomes a nationwide issue. Many people are very angry that Phillip gets into trouble for “being patriotic”. They write letters to Miss Narwin as well as to the school. After feeling the pressure of what explodes into such an enormous issue, Miss Narwin decides to resign. 

Phillip's initial intention is simply to annoy his teacher, however his behavior results in the ruining of Miss Narwin's reputation as well as his own. 

What happens to Phillip after his suspension? Read Nothing but the Truth to find out!

The Pen is Mightier Than the Sword

by Sherry Simkovic

A spoken word

A written quote

A haunting allusion

A situation

Gravity filled

From your lips

To God's ears

They say

An inspiration

Anticipation

Filled

A paper

Waiting for life to be breathed into it

From your lips

To my pen

I say

Whether it be

The stalling transmission

Of my beat-up station wagon, or

The wailing of an ambulance

Reaching out

Aiming

Hoping

To reach a final destination

To reach helping ears and hands

Whether it be the howl of the wind

On a frightening night, or

Creeping tendrils of fog

Reaching up to the heavens

Visible through the barren boughs

On a November morning

Whether it’s:

The confusion of math felt,

The beauty of science witnessed,

The triumph of history taught zealously,

The cadence of Italian softly spoken,

The advice of a friend told in confidence,

The poetry of the greats,

The Killers

The Beatles

Serenaded with grace,

Or the best teacher,

Experience

Speaks truthfully

From your lips

To my pen.

A Sense of Purpose

by Mrs. Zabinsky

 

it is but a thin membrane that separates us from

these inner-selves

meninges encasing the temporal lobe, among others,

perception shuttling along a neurotransmitter’s inky squirt

how we function ourselves!

a sunset imagined at daybreak,

glacial movements like giants gleaming in the

wreckage of a space shuttle, these thoughts,

sparks of brilliant axon-fire

scrolling invisible hues against taught lids

imagination

fraught in frigid fingertips;

the edge of detail caught in a dim half-light,

nothing else to illume

who are we but gray matter

sliding in our cranial shells

this creativity squirreled somewhere

quiet, deep

little else but this do we have to give

to each other