So, I recently moved down to Scottsdale, Arizona and my first couple months here have been rough. For me, everyday is a consistent fight to remember who I am and avoid conforming to what everyone else has so easily conformed to. Coming from a community where the minorities were the majority, it's difficult to be surrounded by people who don't understand my ethnic background, morals, culture, and religion. It's normal to wish to fit in, but I've realized that "fitting in" for me would mean to follow extreme measures that would force me to change my own genetic makeup. The struggle to be understood in this community is overwhelming. So, to help any outsiders understand what my experience has been like, I wrote a poem about it. A New Puzzle Noor Abuhayyeh I view the world as a puzzle. There are pieces that so easily fit together, Like the clasp of a necklace, Ideas that are received as common sense. But then there are pieces that stand out Like a peacock in a peep of chicks, Ones that you’ve been trying to find a place for for months. The one remaining piece that doesn’t connect in its designated spot. This puzzle piece is different. It’s edges are curved, not sharp It’s size is large, not small It’s contribution to the image is worthy, not useless But still, Doubt envelops the mind It is thought that this piece was mistakenly designed Confined to this puzzle where it doesn’t belong. As if it’s in the box just to tag-along, Seems the manufacturer matched this piece to the incorrect puzzle. For the first 15 years of my life I had been dedicated to one puzzle. Intertwining pieces like the hand-holding of a mother and her son. And when I finally found a place for all the pieces my puzzle was stripped away from me And I was told it was time to start a new one. Forced to open a new box, I marveled at the sight of a foreign image Unknowing of this ruthless scrimmage I’d unwillingly play against everyone else. An uneven set of teams. A fight for worthiness. But how was I supposed to win when all the signs told me I didn’t belong? When all the signs were carved with arrows screaming for me to EXIT? This was a puzzle that everyone around me had already completed. 4 months passed and I still lay defeated, These pieces didn’t fit like they used to, My brain couldn’t solve the algorithm like it used to. My inability to piece the puzzle together labeled me a misfit. Like a flightless bird in a flock of doves. I could not soar like the others, My wings never fluttered as theirs did, My feet did not trot in the same pattern, My body did not act in the same manner, My tongue did not speak their words, There was no instruction manual on how to conform. I wanted so desperately to understand their ways. To crack the code on this puzzle of theirs. I begged for any information they were willing to give. But all I was taught is that I can’t fit old puzzle pieces in a new puzzle. That I can’t keep my values if I wish to be a part of their puzzle.

227 years ago our founding fathers granted us the right to bear arms. 227 years ago America was threatened day after day by the tyrannical British monarchy. 227 years ago there was a logical appeal to possessing a gun at the mere age of 18. The safety of Americans was constantly threatened and there was a naturalility to feeling unprotected throughout most American streets and even the homes of citizens. 227 years later, America has thrived into a divided, uncivil nation- and that’s exactly the point. No matter what America may be described as today, the consensus between all people- whether those people are white, black, straight, gay, Asian, Hispanic, Arab, Christian, Jewish, liberal, conservative- is that America has grown. In simplest terms, America is not the country it was 227 years ago. This is a nation that over 320 million people call home. This is a nation that has evolved into a violent, aggressive country that is constantly threatened by its own laws, representatives, and tragically, its own citizens. There should be no reason for a teenager to be in possession of a gun. Not a fully-automatic, not a semi-automatic, not even a handgun. Period. Provided that America has inane gun laws in place, it’s zany to act stunned by these catastrophic incidents. Lives have been lost before and they will continue to be lost unless something- anything- is done. There is a need for abrupt reform. Teenageers should not be given the right to purchase a firearm without any sort of background check or interrogation. In fact, no person of any age should be bestowed this right. The lives of American citizens are constantly threatened by the nation’s own hypocritical laws. With this idea in mind, one must be 21 before downing their first shot of vodka, but two years after acquiring their license they can purchase such firearms? Lives lost due to overconsumption of alcohol are lives lost that can be rightfully blamed on the consumer. Can the lives lost from a mass shooting be blamed on the victims? Can those threatened by these gun laws be the cause of their own deaths? It is more reasonable to grant citizens the right to be the cause of their own damages or deaths than to provide rationale behind a homicide of innocent adults and teenagers with experience to gain, stories to tell, and moments to live. In fear of my life, my friend’s lives, teacher’s lives, and academically enrolled citizens across America, I refuse to sit here all the while and email my congressman hoping for a change. This is an incident that has happened before and will continue to happen unless the correct reform is applied to the nation. Keep in mind, we are in the middle of February, the 18th to be exact, and, not to there have been about as many mass shootings as there have been days in 2018. As a matter of fact, over 30 mass shootings have occured in this short era of time and over 15 of those have been school shootings. Dozens of lives have been lost due to the stubbornness and relentlessness of the American government. I refuse to spectate on the issue and only wish well for the victims, witnesses, and families of victims. There is so much more we can do to help and support those in distress from the incident. Speaking out to Florida and assuring them that you will do “all in your power to help them” isn’t enough, nor is it a fulfilling statement, especially when you don’t act upon that promise. Our congressman, our president, our representatives, are deflecting questions and refusing to address the issue. 4 days have passed and no real legal action has been taken. At initiation, at the first school shooting America has seen, reform to our laws should’ve been put in place. 290 school shootings since 2013 can not be justified. Sandy Hook, Columbine, Parkland, can not just lie as statistics. One school shooting is one too many. The hearts of all people- white, black, straight, gay, Asian, Hispanic, Arab, Christian, Jewish, liberal, conservative- have unified to harmoniously stomp their feet down and make it understood that this is the last school shooting America will ever see. If our representatives fail to take action, it is now put into our hands. Parkland lies as the last school shooting to ever be televised, marketed, and to ever occur. One school shooting is one too many. At the end of all this, it’s important to understand that I love you and care about you and that none of us have to endure such a catastrophic situation that thousands of Americans have endured. Stay alert. Be aware of your surroundings. If you see anything suspicious, don’t be hesitant to report it. Your confessions could save the lives of your friends, teachers, and classmates. Take care.

Hey guys :)) A lot of you guys are posting such beautiful artwork and writing pieces. These are the kinds of things we need in lit mag!! Lit mag, for those of you who dont know, is a club that runs at Stagg and publishes a magazine every year filled with student writings and artwork... everything posted on this platform is suitable to be used in our magazine (with given credit of course.) send all your talent our way!! the deadline is March 1st! @stagglitmag@gmail.com THANKS GUYS!

The wind whips its relentless air through the branches that repose like the delicate fingers of a child upon the tree’s slender trunk. The tree begins to recognize that his branches are not long enough to grasp what it needs. Not strong enough to support itself. Not developed enough to retain its leaves throughout the four eras of the year. It’s dark hazel trunk becomes lighter at the tips of the branches that have dispersed unevenly among the tree. Its color doesn’t quite fit in as those that sprout within close proximity. The tree is ashamed of the melanin of the leaves that develop upon it; green is an unwelcomed and undesirable color. His short figure forbids him from rising with pride. Those neighboring around him bloom coral colored flowers and others provide apples and oranges and other delicacies for the world to enjoy. However, the asymmetrical placement of his branches has given him an opportunity to speak with nature in the form of dancing. As the wind whips its air throughout the atmosphere, his branches sway in different directions carelessly; beings do not pay much attention to his presence and therefore the tree can do as he wishes. Ignoring the flexibility that has been bestowed upon him, the tree’s only wish is to be beautiful and attractive; to be flattered by the glares from the beings on the planet. To be able to be beautiful, attractive, and fruitful, the tree would lose his and isolation and his ability to communicate with the wind. The tree never seems to understand his own offerings to the world, but only focuses on what he has not been given. After viewing the trees’ unreluctant performance, another tree within close proximity attempts to sway its branches to the music played by the wind. The branches of this tree are thick and strong; birds have found a home in it and bees have located a workplace. The tree attains a tan color that allows it power and authority; those around him provide attention to his thoughts. The tree stands prideful and tall over those around him; he recognizes his own beauty. His coral colored flowers and sweet crops bloom during this era and many eyes are constantly upon him. Hands pick at what is referred to as “delicacies of nature.” When the wind whips its relentless air through his branches, his only wish is to respond back in his own form of dancing. However, his brute trunk doesn’t allow much flexibility and often comes between the tree and his dancing. His providence of home restricts him from intense activity for the fact that those that rely on him could be harmed. Ignoring the beauty that has been bestowed upon him, the tree’s only wish is to be frail and flexible; to be isolated from the sight and touch of the beings on the planet. To be able to respond to the wind, the tree would lose his delicacies, attraction, and beauty. The tree never seems to understand his own offerings to the world, but only focuses on what he has not been given.

I made a severe and continuous lapse in my judgement, and I don’t expect to be forgiven. I’m simply here to apologize. What we came across in the woods that day was obviously unplanned. The reactions you saw on tape were raw; they were unfiltered. None of us knew how to react or how to feel. I should have never posted the video. I should have put the cameras down and stopped recording what we were going through. There's a lot of things I should have done differently but I didn't. And for that, from the bottom of my heart, I am sorry. I want to apologise to the internet. I want to apologise to anyone who has seen the video. I want to apologise to anyone who has been affected or touched by mental illness, or depression, or suicide. But most importantly I want to apologise to the victim and his family. For my fans who are defending my actions, please don't. I don’t deserve to be defended. My goal with my content is always to entertain; to push the boundaries, to be all-inclusive. In the world live in, I share almost everything I do. The intent is never to be heartless, cruel, or malicious. Like I said I made a huge mistake. I don’t expect to be forgiven, I’m just here to apologise. I'm ashamed of myself. I’m disappointed in myself. And I promise to be better. I will be better. Thank you.

How can we let this slide? We accept the boosting prejudice and feed off of it with pride as we watch our own species divide into two major factions, It is time we take action and do things not for our own satisfaction. It is time we refuse to watch our own blood brothers and sisters get sucked into the vortex of human desires leading a life that is uninspired and small. We watch as America spreads the mold of racism through its built walls, The same walls that will soon separate us from our Mexican neighbors, Forcing them to obey our orders and concede to our “small favors.” America stands as if it is almighty and tall. But in reality, America enjoys the thrill of watching other countries fall. Mexicans are associated with drugs as if there is no such thing as an “American thug” and crime is the only thing that runs through Mexican blood. America is blinded with hatred, refusing to recognize their manipulated isolation and intentional complications of integration between the nations. I turn on my TV to watch the news and the story that night is nothing new. The fatality rates of blacks in Chicago have spiked dramatically as police brutality becomes a normality and America denies the fact that these people are dying due to its racist mentalities. It denies the fact that they are murdered for the color of their skin, As 73 black citizens are thrown on their knees with a gun to their chins annually. As 73 black citizens are killed every year because of police brutality in the city of Chicago alone. America shrugs it off and insists that these officers be dismissed for they are insane, And they have no idea that what they are doing is profane, and yet as civilians, we continue to explain that our country is accepting and loving and humane. It is no wonder black citizens have a growing fear in their hearts as they are approached by officers. And when a Georgia cop assures a white woman that only the blacks will feel the cold barrel to their heads, America covers themselves in a blanket as they snuggle in bed disregarding the racism as it continues to spread and instead, focusing on the newest Starbucks drink and the IOS 11 update forgetting the constant state it’s in as it fixates on achieving the little things. When my friend’s mother is told that she is a terrorist for the scarf she wears on her head, Or when she is begged not to shoot, How can I love this country of inbreds who believe they have the say to tell me what to do? I am tired of being associated with the 9/11 attacks as if i were even alive when it this horrible tragedy reached its climax-I wasn’t. When my aunt has to take off her scarf for the sake of social interactions between her community, I blame the prejudice mindsets that stand between people and unity, I blame the people who were born with an immunity to racism and label any acts of an Arab as terrorism. The same ones who give the whites favoritism using euphemisms to defend their blatant ostracism. I blame those who can never seem to distinguish my religion from my ethnicity, Constantly associating beliefs with nationality. I blame those who tell me that I identify as white and Arab is “not a real race.” The same ones who have never faced the shame and disgrace America places on you when you are conflicting. When you refuse to be a part of the majority. I am told to check the box next to white as if being as Arab is associated with the feeling of inferiority. I am not even recognized for who I truly am. And just as a fire trickles down a burning building my identification is stripped from within my brain all the way down to the tip of my toes depleting any qualities that define who I am. America teaches me to be shameful for who I am. America teaches me that I will be accepted when I change myself. When I change who I am.

After reading Walt Whitman's "I Hear America Singing," I felt inclined to write a response regarding the true sounds we hear from America. Below, you will find a copy of Whitman's original poem and directly under it you will find my response. Thank You :) I Hear America Singing- Walt Whitman I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear, Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it should be blithe and strong, The carpenter singing his as he measures his plank or beam, The mason singing his as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work, The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat, the deckhand singing on the steamboat deck, The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench, the hatter singing as he stands, The wood-cutter’s song, the ploughboy’s on his way in the morning, or at noon intermission or at sundown, The delicious singing of the mother, or of the young wife at work, or of the girl sewing or washing, Each singing what belongs to him or her and to none else, The day what belongs to the day—at night the party of young fellows, robust, friendly, Singing with open mouths their strong melodious songs. I Hear America Crying- Noor Abuhayyeh I hear America crying; the varied whimpers I hear: Those of the ebony against maltreatment and brutality. The sobs of the poor begging for a world without this mortality The cries of the Latino in fear of his tyranny. The weeps of the Muslim oppressed by the gaze. The howls of the immigrants unimpressed by this constraint. The mourns of the LGBT confined from devotion Why does America suffer from a lack of emotion? I hear America laughing; the varied sneers I hear: Those of the famous amused by your praise. Those of the majority who stand in vain. The smirks of white men in piety celebrating their great supremacy Why do we live in a society without any empathy? I hear America celebrating; the varied honorings I see: Celebrations of the white supremacy As America moves back in history. With the taunts and jeers of the elite, The rest of America lies in defeat.