Literary Magazine 2013 by St Gerard's School

L i te ra r y M a g a z i n e 2 0 1 3

Eamonn Carr

Introduction

‘The more you read, the more things you will know. The more that you learn, the more places you’ll go.’ Dr. Seuss from ‘I Can Read With My Eyes Shut!’

I love the above quote. It perfectly encapsulates for me all that reading means. Yes it is an ‘enabling activity’ helping students in all subject area. Yes the statistics show us that the regular reader performs better in exams…so yes reading helps us to know more. Yet it is the second half of this quote that interests me. Reading allows us to imagine, to go places in our heads, to escape. Reading and indeed creative writing allows us all ‘quiet time’ in an ever increasingly hectic world. I firmly believe that both provide a vital release for young people in particular and foster an emotional understanding of themselves and others. I recall a quote by Groucho Marx…’ I find television very educating. Every time somebody turns on the set, I go into the other room and read a book.’ Substitute television for Facebook, Instagram, Viber, Smartphones, the list goes on and we see the many ‘challengers’ that reading faces. That is not to be dismissive of technology, it is not the reality of students and children’s lives. Indeed the two are by no means incompatible. Yet we must urge our young people to give themselves the space and time to sit quietly and read or write for pleasure.

Our school library here at St. Gerard’s has become a wonderful space for Book Clubs, visiting writers and reading classes. However above all it is a quiet place in the normal hustle and bustle of school life. I would urge students to continue to use this most comfortable and ambient room to its fullest. The rewards will last a lifetime. I hope you enjoy our eclectic mix of student’s work which provides a snapshot of the wonderful creativity and literacy levels across all year groups in many diverse genres. ‘Books are the quietest and most constant of friends: they are the most accessible and wisest of counsellors, and the most patient of teachers.’ -Charles William Eliot.

The credit for this publication goes to Katie O’Farrell, Lauren Lynch and Leah Flanagan. Once again it never ceases to amaze me how creative our students are in designing and producing wonderful covers for this magazine. This year is no exception and Naoise Concannon has risen to the challenge superbly- well done Naoise!

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Aimee O’Caoimh First Year

I breathe a sigh of relief as we round the corner and turn off the road into a long driveway. The big wrought iron gates that usually cordon off the entrance are open wide, ready for our arrival. As my dad puts his foot down on the accelerator and we fly down the gravelled path, I take in the familiar sights. Beautiful, tall Willow trees line the driveway. Their branches lean toward each other, creating a roof above our heads. Beyond the trees lie green fields, stretching for miles and miles. The air smells sweet and clean, like the countryside should. All of a sudden the Willow trees become sparse and an exquisite manor comes into view. Ruby red ivy clings to the walls and a tall oak door swings open and I see two elderly figures. I smell the sweet smell of peppermint and roses as my grandmother embraces me in a hug. Her white wispy hair blows in the mild breeze and her old, weathered face holds some new wrinkles. My Granddad gives me a quick pat on my shoulder, accompanied by an awkward smile. As he does the same to my brother, my Grandmother takes my hand and leads me into her home. A smell of freshly baked cookies hits me. The inside of the house looks the same as it always has. Old fashioned wallpaper lines the walls and carpet mats lie haphazardly on the wooden floor. I walk down the familiar hallway to the spacious family living room. The next hour is spent talking. My Grandparents have plenty of interesting stories to tell us. My Grandmother spends most of her time pottering around in the kitchen, emerging every so often to offer home made lemonade and scones. Later on,

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My Grandparents

after we have eaten an evening meal and retired back to the living room again, my Grandmother plays us some tunes on an old wooden harp that is sitting in the corner of the room. Whilst everyone else begins to fall asleep, enchanted by the glowing fire and calming music, I stay crouched on the floor in front of my Grandmother, just watching her. I train my eyes on her swiftly moving fingers plucking away on the strings, which is difficult to do in such dim lighting. She falters now and again as she plays, but I easily dismiss this fact. I don’t know how anybody could be better than my Grandmother on the harp. When she is finished playing she beckons me over and whispers in my ear. She tells me that she has bought me a small gift and asks me to go upstairs and fetch it from her bedroom. She says she is too tired to tackle the stairs herself. I tell her I will of course do her this favour and quietly slip out of the living room. When I reach the top of the creaking stairs, I follow the hallway until I reach a door at the end of it. I let myself into my Grandparent’s bedroom. I know this room very well and it still looks the same as it always has. Their big double bed with the canopy over it lies in the middle of the room and there are some drawers and wardrobes placed up against the walls. The room is freezing cold. I quickly make my way over to my Grandmother’s vanity table where a little silver bag with my name written on it sits. I grab it and rush back down the stairs. The warmth of the living room hits me. My Grandmother smiles when she sees me. She says she hopes I like the gift, and then helps me untie the bow on the bag and the wrapping. Inside is a beautiful silver locket. It’s very small and

ornate, like an antique. Inside the locket is a very miniature picture of my Grandmother and me. Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m a lot younger looking in this picture, as is she. I thank her for my gift as she fumbles to fasten it

Little Room

around my neck. I give her a hug. I donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t let go for a very long time. I just stay there, cradled in her arms until my eyes eventually become heavy with tiredness and sleep takes over.

Michael Riordan Sixth Year

Two tones, Four walls, Big box, Greedy haul. Pale sheets, Dirty desk, Study notes, For a test. Pink Floyd, Abbey Road, Share a home with, Spotty mould. Tuned guitars, Power chords, Pedals spread, Across the floor. School bag, Fancy words, A million things, Never heard. Sleeping cat, Jealous kid, Superego, And his id.

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The importance of role models in sport to the youth of today

It is impossible to truly gauge the tremendous influence of sports people on the youth of today. Young people talk about them, watch them, and follow them in their rise to the top (or otherwise). In a media-filled world, sports stars are everywhere- from Twitter to Instagram, tabloids to broadsheets. Thereâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s no escaping them unless you live in a cave. Often, however, their offpitch shenanigans get far more media coverage than their athletic performance. Sports stars undoubtedly hugely influence the youth of today. This influence can be remarkably motivational and positive. But can it also be negative? And is it fair to claim that sports stars have a certain responsibility to our generation over whom they have such an influence? The positive impact of sports stars on young people is inescapable in todayâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s world. In my opinion, the most important thing that sports stars teach the youth of today is that hard work pays off. This could be seen beyond doubt in the recent Olympic Games in London. There were a wide variety of athletes there, from different backgrounds, with different talents. Their one unifying feature? They all had a strong ambition to follow their dream. They trained hard, made sacrifices, and eventually qualified to represent their country in their chosen field. It was no coincidence that they became one of the best in the world- they put in blood, sweat and tears to get there. Even in the weeks leading up to and following the Olympics, their impact could be seen all over the globe. A sportswear craze hit European fashion runways by storm. Neon tracksuits paired with leather wedged trainers could be seen sported on the covers of many high-fashion magazines. My favourite magazine, Image, featured a fashion

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shoot involving wetsuits and flippers. More notably still, many people developed an interest in many diverse sports. People realised that there are far more sports out there than rugby, soccer and tennis when they saw athletes perform in all twenty six sports of the summer Olympics. Athletes became role models and inspired scores of people across the globe due to their hard work, their wit or their talent. These heroes inspired generations, but undoubtedly the most affected were the youth of today. For many, the 2012 Olympics were the first Olympics that they could really appreciate, and the awe-inspiring athletic performances inspired ambition all over the world. The down side of the heroism associated with sports stars is the fact that these talented athletes who are thrust into the spotlight with little preparation are suddenly expected to act as moral guides for the youth of today. Overnight, their offpitch actions are scrutinised and evaluated from a moral perspective by the global community. But do these fame-stricken athletes owe any sense of moral obligation to their fans? There are most certainly two main trains of thought to illustrate this. Some people claim that, in accepting the huge pay packages that go hand in hand with being a big star, these athletes are willingly foisting themselves into the public eye. This obviously does not apply to amateur athletes, but it is relevant to the majority of high profile sports players. These people feel that sports stars accept huge pay and, as an implication of this, should accept the fact that with fame so too comes a loss of privacy. The fact of the matter is that the behaviour of significant professional players can have an effect on the impressionable youngsters

Aine McCabe Fifth Year

who idolise them. The proof of this can clearly be seen in the way that companies spend huge amounts of money on endorsements with athletes who will influence fans to buy clothing to copy their heroes. And it clearly works- if not, why would Nike and Adidas spend thousands of euro each year on celebrity endorsements? If the mere clothes that these athletes wear have such an effect on the impressionable youths of today, think what an effect their actions have on these impressionable youngsters. They are keen to emulate the actions of their favourite sports stars- not because they think partying like a rock star will make them a good athlete- but merely to share some characteristics with the heroes whom they look up to. But people of another mindset claim these celebrities are primarily athletes. They should be judged for their performance on the pitch, and their off-pitch escapades are none of our business. I can identify with this point of view too. After all, sports stars are stars because of their talent. So why not confine our admiration and mimicry of them to their talent alone? The simple answer is that we cannot. Our curiosity, paired with our perverse desire to see the personal flaws of these athletes in order to make them seem more human, means that sports stars often cannot escape from the spotlight. A lot of people like to see the problems in celebrity’s private lives in order to make themselves feel better, and sports stars are regarded no differently. It is in our hypocritical human nature to seek out information and then to criticise the sharers for sharing it. I think that sports stars, as athletes and as individuals, are excellent role models. It is a professional area where the young can clearly see how hard work pays off. Their publicised

mistakes often reflect problems in our societies and I think that what young people take from seeing their mistakes is up to the young people themselves. They could be spurned to emulate the athlete’s bad behaviour, or they could be imbued with a determination to act differently, in light of the adverse public reaction to their hero’s shenanigans. The emergence of stories like the recent Lance Armstrong drugs scandal are beneficial to the youth of today. Sure, he was a role model to many, and he let thousands of fans down. But you can take so much more from this story. I believe that this story shows our society that cheaters never ultimately win. Sometimes they do, temporarily, but it is never worth the shameful fall from grace that inevitably ensues. The heartbreak caused by the emergence of the truth and the public shaming of who we thought to be one of our greatest ever sports-people shows the detrimental effects of cheating. It shows that hard work pays off, and that cheaters are found out, be it days, weeks, months, or years later. It poses the question “Is that gold medal really worth leading a life of cover ups and fear of scandal?” I believe that it never is, and I believe that the youth of today can see this too and apply it to their own lives, be it on or off the sports field. Sports people are of huge importance to the youth of today- so that we can emulate their hard work and success, or learn from their very public mistakes. After all, they are just ordinary people, foisted into the public eye by their hard work and merits. They are just the role models that young people of today need. People don’t want saintsthey want heroes- and sports starts provide this by truly reflecting our ever-changing society.

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Sam Ryan Third Year

It was a cold, dreary day as I sat on the park bench. I had noticed a kestrel circling high above waiting for its chance to attack. Suddenly, he swooped in a vicious attempt to seize his prey but the swallows retaliated fiercely. The kestrel made a desperate attempt to escape but was soon surrounded by the vindictive swallows. The swallows continued to attack, jabbing with their beaks like daggers. Their shrill cries attracted the attention of others in the park who soon became enthralled by this spectacle. The swallows were malicious and relentless in their

Family

The murmur of muffled laughter, The cold nibbling at my ears, A distorted shape approaches, The door opens to laughter and cheer, We great our kin, We embrace one another.

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The Kestrel

attack. They were determined and bravely began to drive the killer back. The kestrel made many great efforts to escape the needling and jabbing of the swallows but was greatly outnumbered. The tension escalated as the kestrel disappeared into a dark mass of swallows. I watched with baited breath as the kestrel fought its way from the clutches of the swallows and quickly fled the scene. As the swallows began to the return to their post on the rusty fence of the playground, the other spectators applauded their valiance.

Shane Moloney First Year

Geoff Butler

Freedom

To wake up bleeding isn’t a good sign. I look down to see a fresh wound seared along my upper thigh. The mark of a rat. Down here the rats are as big as dogs. Festering with disease these hideous rodents scurry along in search of human flesh. My sleep, although only an hour long, has not been a good one. Constantly interrupted by bloodcurdling images, I try to lift my spirits by thinking of my beloved mother Ann Marie, the softness of her voice, the beauty of her face but sadly each day my memory of her fades. I realise now how foolish I had once been, eager to fight for my country with the promise of being home for Christmas. How gullible I must have seemed. I look up and down the trenches in search of my closest friend in the squadron, ‘John’. I can’t see him and begin to grow anxious thinking of all the possibilities of what might have happened. I’m tempted to look over the parapet but immediately rule out the idea, to do that would mean death. Something glinting in the light catches my eye. I follow it over to ‘The Pile’. ‘The Pile’ was the place where all the grotesque, stagnant corpses are thrown and left to rot. On my hands and knees I crawled over to discover a ring… a ring on the hand of a corpse. Immediately I inspect it and hope to God that it’s not Johns, however my worst thoughts are realised when I recognise John’s family emblem engraved into it. I don’t need to see anymore. I drop his cold, lifeless hand on the ground and am immediately filled with rage. He was the only thing that kept me sane in that trench, only for him to die so cruelly at the hands of war. I make a feeble attempt to

First Year

honour his death by entwining his ring with a piece of string to my gun, so that he may be with me forever. I need to escape, John’s death was a sign, a sign that I must escape the war’s cold clutches. I now know what I must do. I need to cross noman’s land, where death was a certainty. To, die, however would mean to be finally free at last. I look around to see if anyone’s watching, then crawl under barbed-wire and over the sandbags, ignoring the Gunman’s shouts. I close my eyes as I stand and begin to run aimlessly. I think of my Mother. Never again will I hear her voice or touch her skin; never again will I feel her warmth. All of this rushes through my mind in less than a second. I suddenly feel my legs being torn off by a hail of bullets. I feel no pain, only great sadness as I hit the ground. I smell the damp earth underneath me and feel myself slowly drifting away…

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Foreign Exchange Spain 2011

Two years ago, in June 2011, I set out on an adventure. I got on a green and white Aer Lingus plane and set off for northern Spain. I had never done an exchange before and I had heard many stories and many experiences, both good and bad, that people had had while on exchange. As the plane landed in Santiago de Compostela airport, Galicia, the excitement I had been feeling for the previous few months quickly turned to nervousness and fear. What if my host family didn’t like me? What if I wasn’t able to understand anything they were saying to me? I disembarked the aeroplane with a feeling of dread. On getting through customs I nervously and awkwardly walked into the arrival lounge and saw my host family, who greeted me with a kiss on either cheek. If someone I hadn’t met before had done that to me in Ireland, I would have run a mile but I got into the car, a silver Toyota Prius. That first half day, we went to a river in a rural Galician town and had a swim. It was just like Ireland: freezing, unpleasant and numbing but it gets the adrenaline pumping. The river itself was a clear but brown colour, like a mountain stream. There were bridges made of stone that looked over 200 or 300 years old, it was truly beautiful. As the sun began to set we had a picnic, a homemade quiche with a side order of bread and fruit. It was healthier than I was used to but it tasted nice or ‘muy rico’ as they say in Galicia. Then we set of for the city of Vigo where we would be spending the first week of my exchange. They took the scenic route home around the Ría de Vigo (Vigo Fjord), it was beautiful. There were green, lush hills and houses with terracotta rooftops. The water looked fantastic, crystal clear with absolutely no waves. This country seemed perfect. The Galician landscape was completely contrasting to the other tourist-centred regions of Spain I had been to. Arriving in Vigo was an anticlimax. It looked too industrial. The Francoist Regime had put up many ugly apartment blocks in the forties and fifties to house the

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growing workforce and they had done an awful job. Vigo, which was once the biggest sea port in Europe, now lacked character. Not only did Generalísimo Franco decimate the regional cultures of Spain but he also took the beauty out of many traditional old Spanish cities like Vigo. However, the main shopping street and harbour area looked as though they had been somewhat revived and were actually quite pleasant. The harbour area reminded me of a more industrial Dun Laoghaire. I grew to like Vigo after the first few days but it was not nearly as beautiful as the other two places I stayed in during my exchange in Galicia. During the second week we spent a night in Santiago de Compostela, the famous city. I myself did the last five minutes of the Camino de Santiago. I walked from Burger King in the south of the town to the cathedral in the centre of the old town. Unfortunately they refused my request for a pilgrim’s certificate. The old town is very nice. The Cathedral is magnificent. It stands towering over the city, a gothic gem that is saturated with history. The old-town itself reminds me of a little town I visited in England called Keswick (near where William Wordsworth lived). Apart from the similar architecture, the people are dressed the same. In Galicia, the pilgrims who have walked hundreds of miles are wearing Northface all-weather jackets, boots and have walking poles. In Keswick, these posers who are out for a Saturday stroll are sporting the exact same attire. The city of Santiago de Compostela is incredibly beautiful but it is still not the most picturesque place I visited while I was in Galicia. Las Islas Cies are an archipelago off the coast of Vigo. In a poll a few years ago they were voted the most beautiful islands in the world. If I’m honest, I have tried to find better islands on Google images, just to prove my host family wrong and to show that Ireland was nicer than Las Islas Cies but I have struggled to find anywhere nicer. We sailed over in Nacho’s (my

John Caffrey Sixth Year

exchange student) father’s boat. We had to swim from the boat to the shore which was two hundred metres away but I didn’t mind. It was over 30 degrees that day. On reaching the island and drying off under the bright Spanish sun, we set off on a walk very similar to Bray Head or Killiney Hill in Co. Wicklow and Co. Dublin respectively. The only difference was that once you reached the top, there was a tall white lighthouse that looked hundreds of years old. It was the one part of Spain that could not be touched by Francisco Franco. This was an extremely beautiful place but it is still not the most beautiful part of Galicia. The third week was spent in the tourist town of Vilamoura in the Algarve, Portugal but I won’t go into that because firstly, it wasn’t particularly beautiful and secondly because it isn’t in Galicia. On returning from Portugal (after a ten hour, 700km drive) we went for a day on the boat. I was sunbathing when I realized that I wasn’t wearing any sun cream. I went inside the cabin and felt a sharp pain on the back of my ankle on my Achilles heel. It turned out that the internal motor of the boat hadn’t been covered. I had gotten my ankle stuck between two clogs in the engine. I quickly pulled it out and there was blood everywhere. After I loudly proclaimed some English profanity the family realized that there was something wrong. I don’t know whether it was loss of blood or adrenaline but I could not stop laughing. We pulled into a tourist port where they dressed my wound. We did not go to a hospital as I had left my EU (E1-11) healthcare at home. Without that little blue card, there wasn’t much we could do. The port itself was very nice, especially at night when it was lit up. It was like the Canary Islands without all the British, Irish and German tourists. The fountains were lit with neon lighting and the atmosphere in the town was very pleasant and relaxed. The final week was spent in a tiny town on the other side of the ‘Ría de Vigo’ named Nerga. This was the

most beautiful place I had seen in my life, let alone in Galicia. From the balcony in the family’s summer home there were fantastic views of the fjord and the terracotta rooftops. On leaving the house, one makes their way down a sandy path, through a pine forest and onto the beach. The views and smells while walking through the pine forest were overwhelming. The trees provided shade from the blistering Spanish sun and also gave the freshest smell I have smelt in my life. Nerga is certainly the most aesthetically and aromatically pleasing place I have been in my entire life. It is a completely different world from the tacky tourist resorts in the South of Spain. Galicia is identical to Connemara in Co. Galway. The only difference is the weather. If it were sunny and warm in Co. Galway, we would not need to organize pathetic events such as ‘The Gathering’ in order to raise money for the tourist industry. Galicia but specifically Nerga are places which I consider to be beautiful. Although the places I visited in Galicia were very beautiful, it wasn’t all nice walks, sunbathing and swimming. Events like the foot in the motor, the fact that I didn’t get along with my exchange student and the food took away from the month-long experience. The food especially was atrocious. They do not eat meat, only fish. Almost every day we ate ‘empanada’, a type of pastry that had shellfish (and quite often sand) in the middle. However, one cannot deny that this was, for the most part, an extremely beneficial experience. It has inspired me. The picturesque landscapes, the weather and the general benevolence of the Galician people have inspired me to return to Galicia one day, perhaps as a pilgrim on the Camino de Santiago. Galicia is a truly beautiful place. It has the perfect mix of countryside and cities, warm weather and beauty. Thus I would strongly urge anyone who hasn’t visited this magnificent region/country of Spain to go. I recommend that you abandon the tourist resorts and visit La España Verdad, the real Spain.

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Education’s purpose is to replace an empty mind with an open one

Tightly gripping our parents’ hands, we enter Junior Infants, brimming with imagination and yet bereft of knowledge. Fourteen years later, we enter into the big, bad world of college and ultimately, the “real world”. Yet, what’s the difference? For me, education shaped who I am today, a better, and more rounded person with a more open mind. Instead of taking things for granted, and clinging on to an obstinate view of how “my world” operates, I take time to appreciate and understand “our world”. The virtues and vices of the Irish education system moulds each and every child and teenager alike and yet we consistently hear complaints and arguments that the system is too tough and challenging. In August of last year, a writer in the Irish Times, Carol Hunt, published an article entitled, “The Leaving Cert prepares us for feck all.” I believe this statement, in itself, is contradictory. Is it not true that it is the education system, those fourteen years of our lives, which teach us to question and challenge the status quo? Those who argue against the current system are only, ultimately, proving its worthy place in society. I’ll admit that the Leaving Certificate and the rest of the education system as a whole could certainly benefit from delicate tweaking and fine tuning, but couldn’t everything? Similar to every other system and operation that exists in today’s society, Ireland’s education scheme is learning to adapt and change with the times. Since the 1900’s, Ireland has shown a rapid growth in employment in tertiary activities and services, a marked feature of a developed country. (There’s a fact that I was enlightened to during the preparation for that abominable Junior Cert.) We are now a notable leader in the global marketplace, particularly with the production of technology in Intel Ireland. The education system

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responded rapidly to the increase in technological advancements, implementing Information Technology courses in schools around the country. From day one, in primary school, I, along with the other members of my class, was guided into the new fully functioning computer room where we became lost in the phenomenal world of “Microsoft Paint”. My generation are the driving force behind the technological market, we are the innovators, the producers and the consumers, all rolled into one. I can state with a certain amount of confidence, that if I had never been introduced to the world of computers throughout the course of my education, I would not retain the interest in it that I do today. So thank you, Mrs Travers of Junior Infants, for showing me how to switch on the PC. It is evident that the world is a very different place when viewed through the eyes of a four year old as opposed to an eighteen year old. For my four-year-old self, the world was a rosy place and although the boundaries of my imagination seemed limitless, the products of this imagination remained at their site of production, my brain. Education taught me the what, the why and the how and before I knew it, I was holding the physical creations of my imagination. From paper covered in a smorgasbord of paint to a light bulb being activated by the completion of an electrical circuit, I became privy to the fact that imagination is always paired with knowledge. We are consistently bombarded by arguments that the Irish education system extinguishes any sparks of imagination and creativity within the minds of its youth, forcing them to adhere to the model of our society. On the contrary, I believe that it helps us to comprehend the world around us, allowing us to apply our innate, untrained imagination to everyday life. Education develops and trains our

Leah Flanagan Fifth Year

minds, allowing us to tackle bigger problems and address more serious issues as opposed to the trivial, frivolous disputes of our childhood. I can appreciate that under certain circumstances, some children are more suited to practical work and immersing themselves in the working world at a very young age. However, I myself would not have discovered my own passion for science had I immediately followed my parents’ footsteps into trading and work. It was, at the end of the day, the education system that ignited my interest in learning how the world around me works, down to the finest detail, atoms and sub-atomic particles. I find the relentless criticisms of the emphasis on the student’s ability for regurgitating facts in education, tedious. Introduce any one of these critics to a science lab, where yes, facts are a significant section of the course but they go hand in hand with practical experiments. From dissecting lambs’ hearts to neutralising acids found in our stomach with indigestion tablets, the focus on practical work and understanding is a large proportion of the education system. After all, I hear and I forget, I see and I remember, I do and I understand. I feel compelled to highlight the importance of learning facts in everyday life, as critics continue to condemn the Irish education system for placing such an emphasis on rote-learning. However, does a builder not need to learn what type of cement is appropriate in certain situations? Does an artist not need to understand which types of charcoals and paints would suit the canvas? Does a shopkeeper not need to know the layout of his shop and to understand what price he would be able to attain for an item? A job does not need to be an elite profession in order us to be forced to learn about the world around us. It is vital

information that we will always need in practical, day-to-day, mundane life that we learn about in school. I can recognise the need for Ireland to retain its status as an intelligent, informed society that continues to produce some of the world’s finest, most educated citizens. It is important for us to recognise that education doesn’t just seal our minds to any other opinions besides what we have learned. By absorbing all of the information, our minds are opened to a world that we never knew existed at the innocent age of four. Before our first years of school, we hardly ever questioned the opinions of our parents and society, digesting their observations on life like the pages of a Bible. As our eyes are opened to the “real world”, our past, our present and our future, we recognise the importance of questioning and pressing for answers. If we are never enlightened to the workings of the world, how are we supposed to learn to question? When we think of education, we are greeted with the stereotypical, desk, chair, chalkboard, teacher image and yet modern education lies in stark contrast to this archaic, outdated belief. Personally, I revel in the opportunities that I am offered throughout the course of school life. From inter-schools sailing regattas and hockey matches to debating and public speaking, the term ‘education’, for me, encompasses many different activities rather than the simplistic textbook ideals. School has taught me to be proud of who I am and by expressing myself and things that interest me, I encounter many others who share my opinions on these topics. A prime example is the implementation of a ‘transition year’ programme into many schools by the Irish Department of Education. A year, that is not focused on perhaps the customary learning but revolves more around gaining

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experience. Students spend a handful of weeks on work placements of their choice, gaining an insight into the occupation that interests them. It is, undeniably, a year of personal development for students, learning to find their own personality in a school of many. It allows us to become more involved in society and ultimately, prepare us for the world. Many are resolute to the idea that there is a vast portion of our society that are unable to learn the information which they are confronted with in school life. Although, I would like to see perhaps a wider variety of subjects introduced to the Leaving Cert curriculum, I can acknowledge the necessity of pushing our students to strive for greater things. By offering them an “easy way out” of hard work, children and teenagers will just continue to reach an acceptable level rather than surpassing themselves. It is important that we, as a country, set a high standard for education in order to teach the youth to continue to ‘raise the bar’. I definitely believe though, that the introduction of more subjects should be on the agenda for the next few years as the currently limited selection only appeals to a handful of students. I, for example, find languages to be nigh impossible and seek comfort in the more logical sciences. I have just never developed an ear for it and as a result, struggle to pick up grammar and other vital aspects to languages. However, I was still

Bullying They They They They She She She She

pushed her on the floor, slammed her fingers in the door, called her names, didn’t let her in any games.

was frightened, she was scared, thought nobody cared, walked alone in the playground, never even made a sound.

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left with a sufficient amount of choice that would allow me to concentrate my study on subjects that interested me, mainly science-orientated topics. I was perhaps lucky in the fact that I had this option, whereas I can certainly appreciate that the Leaving Cert is often focused on the scientists, the writers and the linguists among us. By introducing a wider variety of subjects, the Leaving Cert will begin to appeal to the masses of students across the country. As a result, I hope that the government takes the initiatives needed to address this problem rather than disposing of the system entirely as they appear to have done with the Junior Cert. Nelson Mandela once stated, “Education is the most powerful tool which you can use to change the world.” A quote, which is relevant to the predicament which Ireland currently, finds itself in as it attempts to reform the education system. In my opinion, the abolishment of the current system would be a fatal mistake for Ireland as the high standard of education, at the moment is perhaps, one of the lone factors continuing to encourage the growth of companies and multinational corporations in the country. At the end of the day, without any trace of the current system in place, we would all, inevitably, return to potato farming and I regret to inform everyone that potatoes are not in high demand these days.

Iona Roberts First Year

Ferdy Emmet Transition Year

What is “Fame”? What is “celebrity”? Ladies and gentlemen, I am here today to talk to you about this so called “fame”, how it effects people, how it works, and why people spend their days craving it. A study in England in 2009 showed that a third of English children wanted to be “rich and famous”. To be a “popstar” a “sports hero”, a renowned actor or unfortunately, the winner of a reality TV show. The celebrity lifestyle has entered our daily lives and is relentlessly banging on our doors. Wherever we go, news of “Lindsey’s drug problem”, or “Jen’s triplets” seem to weave their way into our unassuming daily conversation. This is what “fame” is in today’s society! A person we should have no interest in, being stalked by paparazzi and having their personal lives spelled out for us! Why do people care? The honest and truthful answer is that their lives are more interesting than ours. The pregnancies! The divorces! The scandal! These “D-list” celebrities welcoming us into their lives, making it public for us all to see. Rather, how long can their fame last? It is not these “D-listers” who are remembered it’s the icons! Marilyn Monroe, Elvis Presley, Frank Sinatra! Not the likes of Lucy Arnes, a household name in the fifties, but now, another person lost to history.

Fame

today we rarely see. The one connecting factor between these names is power. Power over the Roman Empire, power over Nazi Germany, power over religion. This is where we see “fame” that is eternal. This is where it stems from. Lincoln, Churchill, Napoleon! People of power, people whose fame will stay strong, because of the influence they held, their dominance over others. It’s hard enough to become famous, but to become an icon is even harder still. This is what all people; at some point in their lives yearn for. To go down in history, to be a name that will be remembered until the end of time. Unfortunately for some this dream is all consuming, causing them to go off the rails. Their constant need to be in the limelight forcing them to act outrageously. We can strive and try and work our backsides off, but the reality is, we’re all here, we are all trying to leave our mark and then we’re lost to history. But that is the great thing about humanity! We keep moving forward! We could be stuck like the Dolphins, spending the last five hundred years at the exact same point. But no, we keep going, keep evolving! Celebrities are short term entertainment. Fame is not always eternal. As the famous saying goes, “You had to be there.” Thank you very much for listening!

Of course, there’s the people whose fame is eternal. The people known by only one name. The Caesar, Hitler, Jesus! These are names you could mention to any primary school child, and they would instantly recognise them. That is true “fame”! Eternal fame! The “fame” that

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Rock-climbing: A Short Story

John was an experienced rock climber. He was a short unshaven man with long hair and an ever-soslight hunch. He allowed his arms to duas behind him as he walked and looked like he would be more at home in The National History Museum, probably somewhere in the Primate section. Yet, he had an intelligent look to his sad, stern eyes on a face that never seemed to smile. John stopped to allow the tourists to take a break. They were half-way up Mount Visto, which was a beautiful mountain on the French- Italian border. They were just at the tree line of the mountain and John watched as the tourists gazed in awe at the snow-capped summit, nearly touching the clouds it seemed. John sat down on his rucksack and took out a granola bar. This reminded him of his old secondary school, where he had once eaten these for lunch everyday. As a child, John had been an “A” student. His teachers had always told him he had a bright future and he had always achieved good results in exams. During class John had been cheerful… however when school ended he would be huddled up in the corner of the bus staring at his reflection in the window with tears running down his face and bruises on his cheeks. He dreaded the gap between school and being at home where he was at the mercy of the bus. John seemed to bottle up his anger and sadness. If you were to look through his year photos you might notice that with every year that passed his eyes became less bright and more serious, and his face grew to become blank and emotionless. If you were in school with John you would also notice how he began to talk less and less and was cast aside and forgotten by his friends.

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John was abruptly awoken from his day dream. “Allez! Allez!” said a French woman in a cheery voice as she peered down at him. “Parlez-vous Francais?” asked the women in a polite tone. John got up, ignoring the women’s question and gestured to the tour group to follow him as they moved off again. There were no roads on Mt. Visto, only loose rocks, mud, and snow. This made it a difficult mountain to climb. The group of tourists seemed to be falling behind so John went back to see what the hold up was. The same women that had spoken to him was leaning over a narrow crevice trying to tempt a mountain goat with some grass so she could pet it. Suddenly the rubble beneath her feet gave way and she was about to fall when John shot out his hands to grab hers. He caught her and they stood there for a few seconds in a perfect balance and then John pulled her towards him. The group gave a thunderous applause, but before John could stop them there was a low rumble. A cloud of white fog came thundering down the mountain. John made a split-second decision and used the harness equipment and shouted at the four other tourists to crawl into the crevice. He gestured towards it and they seemed to understand what he was implying. John then began to lower them into it two at a time. He hastily lowered the first two and gave a nod to the others to follow suit. Just as he was finished lowering them he was hit by a wall of white snow and ice. He was pulled off his feet and was tossed, twisted and turned in every direction. When he came to a stop he was in a daze. His eyes were watery and stars kept appearing before his blurry vision. He groaned.

Andrew Moore Third Year

He hastily tried to free his legs from the snow and ice. His head was spinning, he was unsure which way was up as he started to frantically thrash about, completely forgetting his training. His energy sapped and all went blank.

saw from the corner of his eye, the woman he had pulled to safety in the crevice. She smiled at him and whether or not she saw it, for the first time in a very long time, John smiled back.

John opened his eyes, realising that he had fallen unconscious. He looked to what had woken him and found water dripping from the ceiling of his icy cocoon. His legs were shivering and his neck was stiff. His heart rate accelerated and his breathing became shallower and quicker. He began hammering at the ceiling but after what felt like forever his hands and arms began to tire and he was unable to continue. He curled up into a ball in an effort to keep warm. As his heart rate began to decrease, his muscles contracted and it became harder and harder for John to stay awake. Johnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s thoughts turned to all of the regrets in his life. He cursed as his eyes began to shut. He had lost all feeling in his body. His chest became heavy and just like that he stopped breathingâ&#x20AC;Ś A bolt of light appeared in front of him. He saw the long snout of a dog appear through a hole in the snow above him. He was temporarily blinded by the sun. John felt himself be strapped to a stretcher and was hoisted up into the air. Around him stood the mountains in all their glory. He reached the helicopter and was pulled inside the warm fuselage. Everything seemed to slow down, time seemed to freeze. John saw people with red crosses on their shirts fumbling about with two metal paddles connected by wires to a black box. He saw the rescuers connect the wires and pads to his chest, and that was when John realised he was looking at himself. He was outside his own body. Suddenly and without warning he was dragged back to himself. As he gasped in air, he

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“The UN belongs on the scrapheap of history” CONCERN Debate 10/12/12

Hello. This is your captain for today’s flight Trygve Lie, the first Secretary-General of the United Nations speaking. According to www. un.org, during my time at the UN I supported the foundation of the state of Indonesia, I worked for the withdrawal of Soviet forces from Iran and I helped negotiate a ceasefire in Kashmir. I don’t belong on the scrapheap of history. Good evening ladies and gentlemen, chairperson and adjudicators. My team and I are here to oppose the motion that the UN belongs on the scrapheap of history. According to the Oxford Dictionary, ‘belongs’ is defined as having the proper qualifications to be part of a group. The word scrapheap is defined as a place for dumping useless, old things. Whilst the word history is defined as the record of past events and times. While the UN certainly qualifies as being old (indeed it celebrated its 67th birthday last year), I completely refute the idea that it is useless and therefore it does not belong on the scrapheap of history. Today you will be taken on a journey through time in our time machine. I regret that there may be some changes in flight pattern due to the storm clouds of waffle created by the proposition. I will take you through some of the early achievements of the UN. Then we will roll forward the years and our chief steward Ban Ki-Moon will talk to you about the present work of the UN. Then my co-pilot Dag Hammarskjöld will bring you back a little bit and look at some of the success of the UN over the last two decades. Finally our safety officer Kofi Annan will bring you back to the future to demonstrate the role the UN can have moving forward and show that the UN does not

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belong on the scrapheap of history. 1) But since we are discussing whether the UN should be consigned to history, let’s take a look at the history of the UN. -

In December 1948, the UN unveiled the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. This document is accepted as international law and its 30 clauses have been woven into many constitutions. The UNDHR states that ‘All human beings are born free and equal’. This is one of the single most important documents in the history of our world. This does not belong on the scrapheap of history.

In June 1950 North Korean forces invaded South Korea. The UN, following their mandate for world peace, sent troops under the United Nations Joint Command to liberate the South. The UN Charter states that one of the aims of the UN is ‘to maintain world peace’. This intervention was the UN keeping to its mandate by protecting a sovereign nation against an aggressor nation. This does not belong on the scrapheap of history.

Polio is a disease which has crippled millions of people throughout history. It is a disease which has been eliminated from all but four countries as a result of the Global Polio Eradication Initiative, carried out by the WHO on behalf of the UN. Due to this nearly 5 million children, that’s the equivalent of every man, woman and child in Ireland, are walking who

Kevin Culligan Fifth Year

would otherwise have been paralyzed by polio. A disease that once crippled children in 125 countries is on the verge of being eradicated. This is the UN making a real difference in people’s lives. This is the UN striving for a better world. This does not belong on the scrapheap of history.

Ladies and gentlemen, the UN has arguably been one of the greatest achievements of human society in the 20th century. Let me ask you, how many World Wars did the first half of the 20th century have? Two. How many World Wars did the second half of the 20th Century have? Zero. After hearing the rest of our speakers, I am sure that you will be in no doubt as to why the UN does not belong on the scrapheap of history, but, to quote my fellow UN founder and Nobel Peace Prize winner Ralph J. Bunche, ‘The United Nations is our one great hope for a peaceful and free world’. I now pass you over to your chief steward Ban Ki-Moon. Thank you for listening.

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T eac her Interview s

Mr. Farrell What was your favourite childhood book? Huckleberry Finn’ by Mark Twain.

By Iona Roberts

What is 1st Year your favourite genre? They pushed her on the floor, They slammed her fingers Espionage in the door, They called her names, novels.

How do you feel aboutThey didn't let her in any games. film adaptations of She was frightened, she was scared, novels? Generally they areShe a thought nobody cared, disaster. She walked alone in the playground,

What is your favourite quote?My favourite quote is the opening line from a book called ‘The Go-Between’ by L.P. Hartley: “The past is a foreign country, they do things differently there”.

She never even made a sound.

What is your favourite poem or play? ‘Three Blind Mice’, no I don’t actually have a favourite poem but my favourite play is ‘Waiting for Godot’ by Samuel Beckett.

Literary Magazine Teacher Inte

Mr. Farrell:

What was your favourite childhood book? ‘Huckleberry Finn’ by Mark Twain.

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Who was your favourite childhood author and what was your Whatfavourite is yourbook? favourite genre? Enid Blyton andnovels. Roald Dahl were Espionage my favourite authors and then probably ‘Great Expectations’ because I always loved the How do ofyou about character Ms. feel Havisham, I film adaptations thought she they wasreally Generally aredark a disaster. and a bit strange!

What is your favourite genre? Well to be honest, I love reading so there are many genres that I would enjoy. I wouldn’t be big into ‘chick lit’ but I love autobiographies, novels to do with Irish politics, more so the history of Irish politics, but of novels? I like the more current books as well.

What is your favourite book currently? Would you recommend them to students? My favourite English book is ‘Middlemarch’ by George Eliot and my favourite French book is ‘Les Miserables’ by Victor Hugo. I would most certainly recommend them. What is your favourite book currently? What is your favourite poem Ior play? don’t really have a novel, but ‘Three Blind Mice’, no I don’tfavourite actually have I like political ‘Waiting for Godot’ by Samuel Beckett. novels.

What’s your favourite quote or mantra that a favourite poem favourite play is you live by orbut that my you find inspiring? I suppose Padraig Pearse “tir gan teanga, tir gan anam”; it means “a country without a language What is your favourite quote? is a country without a soul”. I also the quote is not My favourite quote is the opening line from a book love called ‘The“education Go-Between’ by L.P. filling a book, it’s lighting a fire” or How Hartley: “The past is a foreign country, they do things differently there”. Samuel Beckett’s “we are all do you born mad and some of us feel about film remain so”. adaptations of novels? I don’t mind as long as the story line is the same, I hate when they leave big chunks out that are what I feel very important to the book, What I don’t mind them do you think of though. Ms. Fair: reading on electronic devices? I’m very old-school, I don’t know if I could read on a Kindle! I read articles on my iPad but I think I’d find it difficult to read a whole novel, I love the feel of a book, I love going to a book store, flicking through them and buying one.

Teac her Interview s

Ms. Fair

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Who was your favourite childhood author and what was your favourite book? www.stgerards.ie

I don’t mind as long as the story line is the that are what I feel very important to the b

T eac her Interview s

Ms. NiFheinneadh

What is novel currently? What is your favourite your favourite play I don’t really have a favourite novel, but I currently?

‘Blood Brothers’ is favourite play or So whatmusical is my your favourite genre then? and I would highly Well to berecommend honest, Iit,love reading so there a I thought story was be big intothe‘chick lit’ very but deep I love autobiogra and meaningful..

the history of Irish politics, but I like the m

What is your favourite mantra or quote? (Irish) “If you’re doing well for yourself everybody wants to know you but if you’re not doing very well everybody just wants to step on you”; I think it is very relatable to today’s society and the whole era of the Celtic Tiger and the recession.

How do What do you think of reading on electron you feel about I’m very old-school, I don’t know if I coul movie adaptations? but I think I’d find it difficult to read a wh Personally, I think reading the book is to a book store, flicking through them and far more interesting than the movie adaptations.

Do you like reading on electronic devices? No, I much prefer paperback; I like the feel of the book and being able to mark my page.

What’s your favourite quote or mantra tha I suppose Padraig Pearse “tir gan teanga, t Who language is a country without a soul”. I al was your favouritebook, childhood it’s lighting a fire” or Samuel Becket author or what was your so”. favourite book?

Enid Blyton probably, I loved ‘The Famous Five’ especially Timmy the dog! I thought he was a very Ms.complex NiFheinneadh: character!.

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Who was your favourite childhood autho

Teac her Interview s

Mr. O’Connor What is your favourite genre currently? Well I almost only read art books and then What is yourthan favourite play currently? other that I read ‘Blood books Brothers’ is my favourite play or musical and I would highly recommend it, I on things like rugby, tennis thought the story was and very deep and meaningful. coaching.

How do you feel about movie adaptations? Personally, I think reading the book is far more interesting than the movie adaptations. Who is your favourite What is your favourite mantra or quote? childhood author What (Irish) “If you’re doing well for yourself everybody if you’re not and what was yourwants to know you but is your book? doing very well everybody just wantsfavourite to step on you”; I think it is very relatable to favourite novel? Dr. Seuss and ‘The today’s society and the whole era of the Celtic Tiger and the recession. ‘The Godfather’ and I Cat in the Hat’.

found the movie adaptation Do you like reading on electronic devices? very good as well because of the way to it was I No, I much prefer paperback; I like the feel of the book and being able markput mytogether. page. actually think the sequel was better than the first and the What first one was good. is your favourite quote? I don’t really have one, I don’t necessarily like quotes, I suppose “neither a lender nor a borrower be”, but I don’t really have one.

Mr. O’Connor:

Do you read on electronic devices? No, not really because you can’t usually get art books on electrical devices.

Who is your favourite childhood author and what was your favourite book? Dr. Seuss and ‘The Cat in the Hat’.

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?etouq etiruovaf ruoy si tahW Mr. J: I kil ylirassecen t’nod I ,eno evah yllaer tDo’nyou odprefer to read on an electronic .eno evah yllaer t’nod I tub ,”ebdevice rew orrob or read a paperback? Mr. J: What is your favourite novel of all time Jonathan? Mr. C: That’s a tough one, maybe ‘Lord of the Rings’? Mr. J: There was a six word play/book/poem written by George Bernard Shaw I think? That’s what mine is.

Mr. C: Paperback, I haven’t got an electronic device. Mr. J: You have an iPad. Mr. C: Well yes but I don’t like reading on them and I haven’t got a Kindle. Mr. J: So you prefer paperback then? Mr. C: Well yes, I suppose.

Mr. J: How do you feel about movie adaptations? Mr. C: I thought ‘The Lord of the Rings’ was very well done. Although I was slightly disappointed with the movie version of ‘The Hobbit’, I thought it was too juvenile.

ivre tni tnioj( giarC .rM dna sgni nneJ .rM

Mr. Jennings: Jonathan who is your favourite childhood author and what was your favourite book? Mr. Craig: Now that’s a very good question, I have a number but... Mr. Jennings: No, I’m looking for a person not a number! Mr. C: Oh okay, you didn’t make that very clear... Roald Dahl. Mr. J: ‘James and the Giant Peach’? Mr. C: No, probably ‘Fantastic Mr. Fox’. Mr. J: Okay well Roald Dahl and ‘James and the Giant Peach’ for me because it’s about food our jumpers are strawberry and raspberry.

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?etouq etiruovaf ruoy si tahW q ekil ylirassecen t’nod I ,eno evah yllaer t’nod Joint I interview: Mr. Jennings and Mr. Craig .eno evahMr.yJ:lWhat laer t’nod I tub ,”eb reworrob Teac her Interview s

is your favourite quote?

Mr. C: “Your ego is writing cheques your body can’t cash’ from Top Gun.

Mr. J: “Don’t compare yourself to me, strive to be me”, from Mr. Jennings, chapter four, book three.

Mr.Jennings: What is your favourite genre currently? Mr. C: Probably autobiographies or biographies. Mr. J: I’m going to have to say those D.I.Y. Self Help books, non-fiction, documentarystyle, helping you to fix things.

we ivre tni tnioj( giarC .rM dna sgni nneJ .rM

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T eac her Interview s

Mr. Drummy

What do you think of movie adaptations? I don’t dwell on movie adaptations; I prefer escapism and just to enjoy the film, however I prefer movies that don’t come from a book. I didn’t like ‘The Hunger Games’ or ‘Harry Potter’ or any of those kinds of films. My favourite film is ‘Rocky 3’.

What is your favourite quote? I’m going to have to say Portia’s quote from the court scene in ‘The Merchant of Venice’, “the quality of mercy is not strain’d, it droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven”.

What is your favourite play? “The Merchant of Venice”, I didn’t enjoy ‘Coriolanus’ which was the Shakespeare play I did for my Leaving Certificate.

What is your favourite genre? Non-fiction sports books and autobiographies.

What is your opinion of electronic devices? I prefer paperbacks. I don’t like all the electronic stuff.

Who was your favourite childhood author? Well I used to read ‘The Famous Five’; they were some of the only books I read as a child. I also loved sports books, comics and magazines.

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Who was your favourite childhood author?

Teac her Interview s

Mr. Armstrong What was your favourite childhood book A series called ‘Choose Your Own Adventure’, you would read the book and at the end of every page you had a choice of pages to go to, so you got to make up your own story. There were around fifteen different endings and they were great fun.

How do you feel about movie adaptations? I like them because I like to see how Hollywood differs to my imagination.

What is your favourite genre?

At the moment I’m getting into a lot of teen sci-fi novels such as ‘The Hunger Games’ and ‘The Ask and the Answer’. For some reason I enjoy them! I do like autobiographies as well though.

What is your favourite quote?

“When I walked through the woods I came to a path that had two ways, I chose the one less travelled by and that has made all the difference” and “If you always do what you’ve always done, you’ll always get what you’ve always got”.

Do you prefer electronic devices or paperbacks? I don’t really have a preference but there is something nice about lying back on St. Stephen’s Day on the beach with a nice breeze and my Christmas book!

What was your favourite childhood book? A series called ‘Choose Your Own Adventure’, you would read the book and at the end of every page you had a choice of pages to go to, so you got to make up your own story.L I TE R A RY There were around fifteen different endings and they were great fun. MAGAZINE13

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Sight

I am tired, but where is my bed? Hungry yet where is my plate? I am blind and where oh where am I? Snow fell last night or so I am told. For the first time in my life I did not seem to care, the child within me long bereft of joy, instead of mirth I felt only the cold. The cold which never leaves my wretched limbs. Where is my blanket, where is the hearth? A stranger in my own world. The white brilliance of the inundation failed to permeate my eternal gloom. In this chair I sit, I eat and as always I attempt to remember. A task which seems increasingly arduous to my vacant thoughts. Colour was the first to fade in the paint splattered mural of my mind. I scarcely noticed its departure. The blackness I bear is simply void with no light and little solace. My minds eye widens to the spectacle of my ordeal. The Somme as I recall, perhaps it is my fading recollection but grey seemed to swathe that field of earthen decay. It was as though the soil itself had churned in disgust, in the face of our confrontation. There is no beauty in war. My friends whose faces twist and mangle in my yearning for their presence. Foolhardy in our shared endeavour to adventure beyond the stone cottages and rolling hills of the rural idyll we called home. I would never have suspected one could ever lose so much as I. We plotted and planned, drank and dredged our way through what remained of a changed France. Content in our naivety we accepted our new posts with uncanny fervor. Sent to our fate at the frontline of human brutality. As though in mourning of the dead which lay all around the rain seemed to launch itself from the

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clouds in a final torrent of despair, to reach its inevitable end as it pounded down on our echoing helmets. My companions, Thomas ,Edward ,James and I kept our spirits high as we swayed through our long march to battle. Their faces now blurred and interchangeable mean nothing to me anymore. Talking silhouettes seen through a haze of affection which twist and contort in the fog of reminiscence. But it is their voices which light a passion in my heart, a memory I cling to in my solitude. That of friendship. Yet fate had other plans for us, alas none were spared, or remain unscathed. As I recall Edward was the first to leave our lives, the horror of his loss is a feeling I cannot bear to relinquish for even pain is welcome in exchange for the monotony in which I exist. Countless bullets later I felt naught for Thomas, as much as it may grieve me to say it. As though weary of the sheer proximity of both mine and every other godforsaken manâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s mortality it seemed like nothing more to me than a morbid eventuality. Months slipped through my life as hostility wore on and my face began to carry the hallmarks of my strife. Gaunt to the point of collapse I became a ghost of the man I was. I shut my eyes to the world for it was not worth witnessing. James became an illusion in my mind, our friendship but a whisper of the life and people we left behind, a friend in my past he was a changed man. Too pure of heart and mind to cope with what reality had become. He succumbed to his grief. Or so I am told. For I never laid eyes on him or anything again since that moment, that fleeting moment when the world switched off and life became sitting, and touching and listening. I was told it was he, James who saved me, dragged my bones and skin from the white cloud of burning gas. Had I known what surviving could entail then

Shane Kenneally Third Year

I too like a raindrop would have dived to my fate in that wretched cloud. The cloud that stole all perception. That was the last sight I was ever to glimpse. And while I sit here still trying to relive, my thoughts shift to the

Sophie O’Reilly & Dylan Hughes Naylor

snow falling through the blackness of a winter’s night. Unaware of the land it smothers in its wake. I thereby resign myself to my fate, to drift through the blackness of the life I endure. At least one day I too shall melt away into the abyss of the earth to begin anew. Now that is a thought to cherish.

Macbeth

Sixth Year From its inception the play Macbeth Was rife with deception. Macbeth the brave warrior with his armour of steel, But under this armour his intentions would reveal, His bloodlust and desire to retain the crown, Has him consumed with ambition and towards corruption he goes down. The weird witches unlock his hamartia of vaulting ambition, Setting into motion the instruments of darkness, revealing his evil mission. Lady Macbeth pours her wickedness into Macbeth’s ears, Obscuring his thoughts and removing his fears The murder he commits destroys the natural order, Which unintentionally blurs the supernatural border. While after the murder, Macbeth is seen to fret, We soon see it is Lady Macbeth who is consumed with regret. With the blood upon her hands she can no longer handle, And all Macbeth has to say is ‘Out, out brief candle.’ It was a game of fate he could never truly win, And there is no doubt Macbeth suffered immensely for his sin

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Time

‘But you just move your hands upon the clock, You make me believe that you are still in charge’ - Thom York, The Clock I have no doubt that when my editor requested a light-hearted and entertaining article in which I espoused that young people have “all the time in the world”, he did not expect said article to begin with a cautionary lyric written by the front man of Radiohead, a man not known for his mirth-making. Nonetheless, I would ask you, dear reader, to bear with me for a moment. There is method to my madness. The honest truth is, when I first read the title and subject of this assignment, my eyes rolled into my skull with such velocity that they needed to be surgically retrieved. “All the time in the world”? What sort of empty platitude is that? Is this the sort of ludicrous rubbish that I would have to peddle while writing for this publication? Of course, I aired none of these views verbally as my editor was still present in the room and the life of a freelance writer is frugal enough, thank you very much. Instead, I silently fumed and pondered if Hotpress had any vacancies. However, as the day progressed, I became increasingly intrigued by the assignment that had been thrust upon me. After all, time, and its limited supply, has always been fertile ground for creativity. For every writer,

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from the creators of “Lost” to The Bard himself, William Shakespeare, Time is the mother lode, a gargantuan, infinite force which binds us all. Essentially, this is a pretentious manner in which to say that Time is kind of a big deal and perhaps, I could craft a piece that would appease my editor while maintaining my “artistic credibility”. Time haunts the actions of all young people; “Do I have enough time to prepare for my exams?”, “How am I supposed to decide what I want to do with the rest of my life in three months?”. These are all pressing concerns for the modern teenager, and at times it can all seem overwhelming. I myself can recall the long, sleepless nights of my Leaving Cert year; filled with terror, wracked with guilt, crying out “why, oh why didn’t I do more!?”. And this was only in the weeks leading up to my return from school after Summer. As the year progressed, it became evident that I was not quite au fait with this studying malarkey. I simply could not retain information in my decrepit excuse for a cranium. In the face of seven exam subjects to prepare for, I felt outgunned, out-numbered and overrun. I perceived the Leaving Cert as my Alamo; one last brave but futile attempt to carve a career for myself. A line from Alan Moore’s masterpiece, “Watchmen”, was permanently ringing in my brain, “The future is bearing down like an express train”, and let me tell you dear reader; I expected it to reach me with a nasty splat. At this stage, many of you may feel like your worst fears are being reaffirmed, “My God,” you’ll exclaim, “this will happen to me!”. Rest assured the story does not end here. As the weeks advanced and the Leaving Cert drew perilously

Jack O’Higgins Sixth Year

near, a trigger flipped within my brain. The fight or flight instinct took charge and suddenly, I found myself capable of study. Admittedly, this only occurred in the month preceding my exams, but it was enough. I received the points for my course, did my degree and am now living the (figuratively) rich life of a freelance writer.

have all the time in the world”. Seize the day; resist the urge to rest on your laurels. For if you don’t, a time may come that like Bond, your hopes and dreams may lay dying helplessly in your arms. However, unlike 007, a speedy getaway in your Aston Martin and the comfort of a beautiful blonde will not be available…

Regardless, I believe that telling young people messages such as “we have all the time in the world”, is facile and ultimately pointless. The fact is, we simply do not have all the time in the world. It’s limited. We may have a certain amount of room to make mistakes but unlike Mr. T, life and its unstoppable momentum pities no fool; it can often leave us behind if we fail to make the most of it while we can. Like the subject of Thom Yorke’s song, “The Clock”, we can fool ourselves into believing that we are in charge of time, that we have “all the time in the world”. Like Yorke suggests, I believe this is folly. Instead, I believe that ultimately, we have ENOUGH time in the world. Not all of it, not a lot of it, but enough. Enough to sufficiently study for exams. Enough to figure out what direction our lives and careers will take. Of course, occasionally, people are given too little time on this earth. Sometimes, they may be given too much. I, however, believe that on average, it balances out. James Bond once famously claimed that “we have all the time in the world”. The fact that he was holding his dead bride in his arms at the time surely speaks of the veracity of his empty-headed “truism”. So I ask you dear reader, nay, beg you not to be seduced by the asinine logic that “we

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Write a persuasive essay for

or against sensationalism in the media

In the words of Jerry Seinfeld, “Isn’t it amazing that the amount of news that happens in the world every day always just exactly fits the newspaper?”. Is this a mere coincidence? The doing of Mother Nature or of the media? I think you will agree with me when I say that it is most definitely the latter. Today, the media is guilty of gross exaggeration, all in the attempt to create more gripping headlines and better entertainment. I find it sad that we live in a day and age where sensationalism is seen to be more important than integrity. Sensationalism is exploitation at its most acute. It is exploitation of the victims of horrific events, exploitation of their stories, their families, their day to day lives. It is unjust and cruel, and it is done simply to increase media sales. What sort of a sick, pathological world must we live in? Yet the media get away with it, time and time again, because in our own twisted way, we love the production. What will happen, who will be affected, what celebrity has stepped forward to give their ‘aid’? I find it disturbing that we have developed the ability to mould other people’s horrendous misfortunes into some form of warped entertainment for ourselves. It is morally wrong; I do not believe there is a simpler way of putting it. What exactly is classified as sensationalism though? Sensationalism is the use of exciting or shocking stories or language at the expense of accuracy and other people, in order to provoke public interest. “At the expense of accuracy and other people”, if this does not make it clear to you exactly what is wrong with this exploitation, I really do not know what will. We are putting our own entertainment before the rights of other people. And for what? For some story that has

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been manipulated to get the best reaction, a story, which may not even be completely accurate! But doesn’t that go entirely against the ideal of what most media is supposed to provide? I don’t know about you, but when I watch the 9 o’clock news, or pick up the latest newspaper, or even catch the headlines online or on the radio, I expect what I am hearing to be the truth. I do not think that this is too much to ask for either. The sole purpose of the news is to give information about recent events or a broadcast report of this. When people watch the news, they therefore expect the report to be truthful, so that they are aware of what is going on in the world around them; they do not want to be lied to by money-hungry media editors. However, the distressing truth is that studies have shown how we, as human beings, react to more shocking, upsetting headlines than we do to joyous ones. So the media supposedly rises up to meet this statistic. This causes us to then develop an impression of our world being a more violent place than it really is. We are distrustful, more security conscious and, in some cases, more likely to see violence as a solution to conflict. The grotesque truth is that we find violence so entertaining that news programmes feel compelled to put it first. However, I do not believe that this can justify the media’s use of sensationalism! There is no doubt that violence is real, but is it as regular in real life as it is portrayed to be by the media? We have to hope not. Newspapers, television programmes and films glorify brutality and violent behaviour. The media suggests that violence is an acceptable part of society to the impressionable youth. To prove my point I simply ask you this, go home tonight and watch the news. Any news broadcast. I

Lauren Lynch Fifth Year

guarantee I can tell you what it is you are going to see. You will see nothing but violence and blame. You will hear stories of murder and tragedy striking all throughout the broadcast. It will have the basis of your run-of-the-mill soap opera, it will be so bad, so awful, but you will not be able to look away. However, it is not just violence that the media sensationalises. Natural disasters are played up so much, to the extent where their occurrences are beginning to lose the ability to shock us. Earthquakes, tsunamis, volcanic ash; all horrific events with devastating consequences for those involved. Do we sympathise with the victims? Of course. Is this level of tragedy (which is further played up by the media) anything new to us? Absolutely not. It is, if you will pardon the pun, old news. It saddens me to think that the media feels obliged to sensationalise these catastrophic events in order to meet sales targets. The media takes full advantage of the weak and vulnerable, it is exploitation at its most grotesque. I find it quite disheartening to sit back and acknowledge that human struggles are being taken advantage of and marketed, and whatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s more, we are letting the media get away with it to satisfy our own entertainment. We, as a society, have become a group of people who thrive on tragedy and despair, without even knowing it. The media will continue to sensationalise everything because they know we will buy into it and believe most of it because after all, each and every one of us believes what we hear on the news, regardless of the fact that it is fuelled by violence and sensationalism.

keep us updated with all that is going on in our world. The media has provided a revolutionary tool, one which deserves a place in our modern society. However, does that justify the exploitation and sensationalism that the media is so in favour of? Does that justify taking advantage of the vulnerable and twisting their story so it sounds more catastrophic and poignant, or tapping phones i.e. Milly Dowler in the hopes of selling a few hundred more copies of a newspaper? Does that justify turning peoples horrendous and grief stricken experiences into something we view as a warped form of entertainment? Violence sells, that is the awful truth. Our society is so corrupt and dehumanised that we have the ability not to feel guilty about this sensationalism that is taking place worldwide. I am fully aware the media is full of violence and sensationalism and at the end of the day, who isnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t? We are all aware; we just turn a blind eye. But this cannot continue, if not for the sake of our own moral conscience, then for the sake of the victims of this gross sensationalism in the media today. They deserve more than how the media currently treats them.

All this considered, there is no denying that the news plays a vital role in society. I am not trying to claim otherwise, the news retains the ability to

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Speech on Eating Disorders

I am here ladies and gentlemen to bring to you a horrifying reality that the rate of eating disorders in teenage girls in rising dramatically. Something needs to be done. Whether it is peer pressure and adolescent immaturity or the constant reminders of “beauty” the media shove down your throat one too many times a day, the image of stick thin under-nourished girls has now become the “be all and end all” of our generation. With the media and internet at our finger tips it is almost effortless to get hold of images and blogs of girls who appear to be “beautiful” when actually they are quite literally dying to be thin. Anorexia, bulimia and a distorted view on food and body image in general are becoming so evident in teens today it is normal to suspect a teenage girl is seriously unhappy with how she looks. I will be focusing mainly on the internet and its power over the teenage community, the dance world and its pressurising view on body image, and also peers and how much of a shocking impact they can hold over one’s self esteem. The internet’s impact in society today is in my opinion out of control, with countless stories of cyber bullying, false posts, status’ and “frapes” that happen is terrifying and that is just on Facebook. There are so many other websites such as Ask.FM, Tumblr, YouTube etc; that teens can post horrible things about their peers and say it anonymously as well. People seem to be a lot more vocal and insensitive about others when they know they won’t be exposed. Which is interesting, because this shows they know what they are doing is wrong and will get them a bad name and possibly in trouble with their school and parents yet they choose to do it anyway?

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This ties into eating disorders as teenagers commonly go straight to the victim’s body when they begin bullying. “Fat, slob, pig, ugly, disgusting,” these are some of the lighter “slags” some unlucky teens receive on a daily basis. These sorts of things are prone to kick start an eating disorder or a distorted approach to food. Another huge contributor to eating disorders in teenage girls today is the dance world. Dance is becoming much more main stream then it ever was; which is great in one way to promote the art of dancing and a healthy lifestyle, but what a lot of adults and parents don’t know is that most ballerina’s and commercial dancers are so pressured to be skinny and gorgeous for companies and music videos and so on that most of them take it to an extreme. A lot of ballerina’s, not all but a lot have a much distorted view on food and calories and exercise. Ballet is a very harsh and critical art, and if you do not have the body for ballet you will get nowhere with it. This is ludicrous. Ballet is very old fashioned and most of the best dancers come from Russia, where ballet and skinniness are most critical. Most little girls wish to grow up and become a ballerina. If only it were that simple.

This is a true but a very unfortunate outlook on dancing as I believe dancing is a form of self expression and beauty, and should be available to anyone, not only to those of a size 0. Most of the points I have outlined are very much the same for commercial dancers who want to go to L.A. and make their big break over there. If you are not deemed beautiful by the scales in your bathroom;

Lorna Fox Transition Year

you never will be by the executive producers of MTV. This causes girls to panic and take drastic measures. So what do we say to the next Michael Jackson who is a size 14? You are simply not good enough? This is such a crazy thought and I don’t see in any way how it can be justified. We thankfully are starting to come around and get influences such as Adele, who has said in an interview that she was asked to lose weight but declined. Which is very empowering but we need more of these influences to help the teens of today realise that seeing your hip is not worth everything else you put on the line.

is almost become cool to yo-yo on the scales. Girls are counting calories together and recapping how many leg lifts they did that morning. And the extremities girls are willing to go for this desire is crazy. Teenage girls need to stop obsessing over their body image and they need to change their approach to food. They need to realise that being thin is not the “be all and end all”. Teenage girls need to accept their body for the way it is. The flaws included. Thank you for listening.

Peer pressure and striving for social acceptance is also a huge contributory factor in eating disorders starting in teens. With teenage girls being very self conscious nowadays it is almost impossible for them to eat exactly what they want, knowing everyone around them can see. This is a crazy thought, as everybody has to eat and eating in public should never be something to stress or worry about. But unfortunately it does still happen. This often leads girls to skip lunches and social events that require them to eat publically. I say predominately girls and women but of course boys and men also suffer from anorexia and bulimia, it is just more common for girls to become obsessed with the notion of beauty and skinniness. When I talk about peer pressure I am not only referring to eating publicly and staying away from nasty remarks. But I am also referring to eating disorders looking “cool” nowadays. There is so much controversy on this subject and so much gossip about celebrities and their new fad diets; it

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Katie McCarthy Fifth Year

There is light beyond the darkness, The sun illuminating the street, The sound of my feet as they kiss The cement beneath them, Embracing the pavement The air, cool and crisp like The peaceful destruction of an Autumn leaf. Crumbling pieces Gently dancing, a ballet of Natureâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s debris The chaos of my mind at rest, if Only for a little while, in this Short walk from outside comfort Back to familiar ground The company irrelevant, the havoc Halted. This electricity of joy, felt at My finger tips, and within a kernel of Fire, burns intensely, fuelling itself with Each step. A beautiful necessity.

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The Life of Air

The innocence of each breath is exciting, Exhilarating. The air, alive with a wondrous Energy, giving birth to hope. A breeze tingling With promise. Potential and perfection united. Endlessness. Surrounding me, enveloping me, The impossible feeling, The unlikely lightness of the heart, The unexpected caress of Triumphant light battling dying down, A survivor of the night A constant reminder of that immortal Courage, which enables the eternal Spring of love and life

James Allen Fifth Year

Book Club

TThe Book Club was a new experience for all that were involved. We all enjoyed reading books in our spare time but none of us had ever been a part of a club that discussed our opinions on them. It gave me a different perspective on reading as I had to look for deeper meanings and form interesting opinions on the books rather than just read them without thinking. The book club has changed my attitude towards reading which I will carry with me in the future. It was Ms. Brady who first approached us about joining the Book Club. I was pleasantly surprised by the number of students who were interested. Many of the students were out of their comfort zone with the book choices but this was a welcome aspect of the club as it helped to broaden our horizons with regards to the books we now read. Some of the novels we read were

‘The Da Vinci Code’, ‘1984’ and ‘Perks Of Being A Wallflower’. As I was the chairperson of one of the meetings I had to have some thought provoking questions prepared, which was very hard. Those who were lucky enough to chair a meeting gained the worthwhile experience of trying to keep conversation about a book flowing for an hour which was no easy feat. Luckily Ms. Brady guided us along and helped to keep the discussions fresh. The Book Club was a very worthwhile experience ” views on literature. It as it helped us to k Clubour ooexpress B “ also helped us to gain confidence s Allofenothers.in our opinions meviews B yforJathe and respect

5th Year

ved. We al l o v in e r e r all that w o f e c n of a club t t ie r r a e p p x a e n e w b was a ne had ever be u l s C u f k o ding as I ha o a o e e r n B o n n o t e The u v b i t e t nt pers pec r s pare tim e r u e o f n if i er than jus d s h a t k a e o r m s bo k e o v o a g ns on the b ing wh n them. It d o o i a n e s i r n p s o o i d n r g i a n p i t w o at titude to orm interes f y d m n d a e s g g n n a i mean club has ch k o o b e h T g the Bo n i n i o j t thinking. u o b ached us a ure. t o r u f p e p a h t e interes ted t r s e r in i w f o o me h h w w Brady f s tudents o r e b oices but h m c It was M s. u n k o e o h t b e y sur prised b one with th L I TEnRsA RY z t r o ith regards f w m o c pleasantl y o r i z e i r h t o h 35 984' ere out of '1 roaden our ', b e o d t o d C e i p s tudent s w c l e in h V t i a s D a e b h lu c 'T e e e read wer s pect of th MAGAZINE13

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kness of a winter’s night. Unaware of the land it smothers in its wake. I thereby gn myself to my fate, to drift through the blackness of the life I endure. At least one I too shall melt away into the abyss of the earth to begin anew. Now that is a thought herish. MR. CARR’S QUOTES WALL

WITH THE SECOND YEARS

MR. CARR’S QUOTES WALL (WITH THE SECOND YEARS)

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“Time” By Jack O’Higgins 6th Year

w w w. s t g e r a r d s . i e