Badgerblog

The rusted hulk of a car blew up after having hit the tree. The person driving the car rolled out. I poked him with a stick. He was severely burned, but he continued to twitch. I giggled at the irony of the sight, for he was the same man who hit my turtle and little sister a few days before. You see, my little sister had been walking her turtle, Skittleman Franklin, when the inconsiderate son-of-a-biscuit swerved onto the sidewalk and hit them. They were immediately rushed to the emergency room. My sister only had a couple of broken ribs, but, unfortunately, Skittleman died.

I poked the man again. He moaned and continued twitching. As I saw the ambulance approaching, I kicked him a few times in the face (and the ribs, for my sister), jumped on my bike and pedaled away. I decided to buy some cheese to celebrate the avenging of Skittleman Franklin.

Ashley and Andrea, eigth grade, Del Valle Middle School

Photo courtesy of Lisa Solonynko.

In another life she would have been an artist,
free & abstract.
She would wear a passion red fabric piece with the scent of
ruby mist flowing.

“¡Vamos a bailar!” Let’s go dance, she would say.
I am my mother’s eyes.

Anthony, eleventh grade, Del Valle Opportunity Center

I wake, I wake
I wake. I sharpen
my stinger sharp as
a needle. I drink
some venom in
a shiny cup.
I sharpen my claws.
I brush my many
Teeth. I shake
my legs.
I am a scorpion.
I am a Hate Dream.

Christopher, sixth grade, Dobie Middle School

Photo © Arno Meintjes

—Inspired by the life and writing of Luis J. Rodriguez

Days of laughter and days of sorrow,
Partying and crying.
Too many times I almost died for watching your back.
You’re not only my friends but my family.
I always confronted the police for you
But something went wrong.
Why did you come shooting at me?
Stabbing me in the back when all I did was to protect.
My friends? My family?
Tell me that I’m dreaming. Somebody pinch me!
Man, I got fooled all these years.
My thoughts are twisted.
Against this wall with the Virgin Mary drawn.
On the ground taking cover because of them.
Not believing what just had happened.
I’ve never felt this pain.
Not even with a girl.
I guess you really don’t have friends
No homies, no protection.
But only doing it for yourself.
No more days of laughter with you
No more days of sorrow.
On my own on this road.
No one will I follow.

Haide, twelfth grade, Manor Accelerated Academic Recovery Center

Photo courtesy of El Random Hero, LA Eastside.