By joe The Banana Lena was a sport competitive host. It was my buddy Jim’s first visit to the house, and after a couple days he didn’t look too good.  So I said , “Jim what’s up?” He said, “I can’t eat another thing. I think your mom is trying to kill me.” I handed him a banana and instructed him, wherever you go hold this banana in your hand and when my mom insists on getting you something to eat show her the banana and say, “No thanks, Mrs. Sarcone, I was just going to eat this banana.” The Biscotti Lena was on her death bed so I said,…

By Samuel Henderson Have you ever stood atop a remote mountain and wondered how many other humans have stood there before you? There’s something truly unique and special about standing in a precarious location looking down upon nothing but raw nature, -not a soul insight. For that moment standing atop a mountain peak, you have a completely unique view that changes ever so quickly with the weather. Standing on the summit of a large mountain is a time limited gift, often well earned through your own physical, mental, and emotional strength. Throughout history large mountains have been natural barriers, borders for both weather and invading militaries alike. They can offer…

By Jordan Hales How do you know what to write? Where do the ideas come from? From what is your inspiration pulled? Do you stare at the wall until it tells you what to write? Do you ask Pinterest for writing prompts? Do you wait until someone tells you what to write? How do you know what to write? How does an artist decide what to paint? How does a songwriter find her muse? How does an architect know where to start? How does a dancer know which way to move and shape their body? How does a writer know what to write? How do I—as a writer—know what to…

By Jordan Hales Flowers are bright and colorful. They’re light in the dark. They’re the sun when it’s set. They’re life even after they’ve been plucked from their roots. Their floriography tells the story of each individual flower. They’re medicine and celebration. They’re grief and “Get Well.” They’re art and floral fabrics. They’re wild and assorted. Flowers are peaceful and calming. They’re relatable. Tough and delicate. They make sense in life—in a field, a vase, in the hands of a newlywed, the ear of a child. They decorate and they grow. They bring joy and comfort. Flowers are appropriate for every emotion and occasion. Tears from eyes and dimples next…

By Maria Capezio Crookes The years 1999 and 2000 were not kind to me, and I was not kind to myself. My best friend, Rut, was diagnosed with Hodgkin Lymphoma at 19, I dropped out of my first attempt to go to school, my abuelito died, I broke up with my abusive high school boyfriend, I felt lost and a failure. At least I was able to accompany Rut for the first part of her Chemo treatments (she is now Dr. Rut, has been in remission for several years, and has a beautiful family). During that time, I read a lot, and tried to figure out what to do next.…

By Mario Jose F Vinoya Content Warning: animal abuse It was January 31, 2022, a bright sunny Monday over the city of Anchorage, with cold winds of 10 degrees. I was only supposed to be gone for an hour and a half, only to get a haircut from my friend during the early morning of 11 am. The haircut was supposed to be a new change for me, as I was starting in-person on the school campus the following week. I had excitement in my stomach to meet new people and try a new look. I was done with these thin strands of Asian hair on my head because it…

By Sara Hinojosa 16-year-old, Valentina sat across from me. She was in the midst of her journey from Colombia to Utah and was eager to ask all about life in America. Her questions were shaped by the American life she’s seen in movies. She asked about American music, high school, and if I’d ever been surfing in California. Her eagerness almost completely disguised her fear and exhaustion that came from the journey that had already been in motion for many months. She didn’t say much about the home she left in Columbia, but she talked a lot about where she was heading. She and her family hoped to make it…

By Sara Hinojosa I had always known a God. My father was raised Catholic, but I can’t say I’ve ever seen him in a Catholic church. My mother, on the other hand, is a devout Christian and raised my older siblings in church. Their faces were well known in the community and some of their closest friends were made at Sunday schools, youth groups, and Bible studies. They all moved out by the time I was in kindergarten and I couldn’t say when they last stepped into a church building. Maybe a wedding or a funeral. I came into the picture much later and never experienced church in the same…

by Julia Ditto It was the first of July, and the thirty-first day in the Brooks Range for our team of five. The crew was led by Dr. Roman Dial, a professor and biologist at Alaska Pacific University. The three others and I were all undergraduates. Russel Wong, our mathematician, Duncan Wright, our musician, and I, the artist, were all students from APU. Ben Weissenbach, our writer and fourth undergraduate, was from Princeton University on an assignment to write an article about our adventurous scientific expedition. Little did we know, the next few hours were about to be the most adventurous of our entire six-week expedition. We departed camp as…