The Guinea Pig Races

In my elementary school, pets were a big thing. Class pets like rabbits or chickens were owned by a few lucky classrooms, and pets like goldfish and frogs were owned by the less fortunate. Our classroom ended up with guinea pigs.

At first, I was excited. Who could turn down furry, pig-like, hamsterish-mouse things? But then, I found out the truth:  guinea pigs were smelly, sniffly rats that waited until you decided to hold them to pee. Could this really be the classroom pet?

“Come on, eat it,” Ryan whined at the guinea pigs. Ryan, Matthew, and I were standing in the loft in our third grade classroom. The loft was where the bookshelf, blocks, and pillows were. Unlike the second and first grade classrooms, the loft actually had wooden stairs leading up to it. The only downside to this amazing loft was the smell, the smell of guinea pig poop mixed with squashed stinkbugs.

“Eat it you fat rats!” Ryan was getting impatient. So far they hadn’t liked the fries, or the grapes we had tried to feed them. And, there wasn’t much else you could do with these “pets” besides feed them. They weren’t very hard to catch, but if you held them for more than a few seconds, you were in danger of being peed on.

“Why don’t we build a guinea pig race?” Matthew blurted out suddenly. We all agreed it was an excellent idea.

So, we got out the blocks and built a twisty maze with two openings, and put them at the entrance. Matthew held “Caramel” a few inches above the ground. Ryan did the same with “Coco.”

“On your mark,” I shouted in my loudest indoor voice, “get set, go!”

Matthew and Ryan put the guinea pigs down. Coco waddled in the opposite direction, and then sat down. Caramel ran in circles a few times and sped off toward the stairs. We ran after him, me holding Coco. He got about halfway down the stairs before we caught him.

We put them back in their cages, right before recess ended.

* * *

About two weeks later, Matthew had another idea (Two ideas in one month! He was on fire!). We would hold a Guinea Pig Tournament.

By this time we had learned the guinea pigs’ favorite foods. Matthew was Caramel’s trainer, so he brought in spinach in every morning, and Ryan was Coco’s trainer so he brought in lettuce. I was the race builder, so I would construct the races while they were getting ready. We had figured out how to coax the guinea pigs through the maze holding their favorite treats right in front of them. I decided to “up” my game, and made a race so confusing that the trainers could get lost in it.

Then began the guinea pig races. Everyday at recess we would hold races. But, fate was on Caramel’s side the day of the tournament because Ryan had run out of lettuce. He came in with a shameful substitute, kale. Coco would never give his all for kale. That day went down in guinea pig history.

I set up the race. Matthew ran around the room with Caramel going faster than they had ever gone before. Meanwhile, Coco and Ryan were having more trouble. Coco would stumble a few feet and then decide it wasn’t worth the effort. Then stumble a few more feet. We all felt sorry for Coco, and even more so for Ryan, by the time the race started.

“On your mark. Get set. Go!” I said for the last time during the tournament.

Matthew put Caramel down, as did Ryan with Coco. I closed the guinea pigs in the maze as Ryan and Matthew wielded the vegetables. Ryan scrambled around the maze so as to not knock it over while Coco followed. Coco was putting no more effort into the race than he did during practice.

However, back at the start of the maze, Matthew was trying to coax a sitting Caramel to run. Nothing he did would work.  He touched her nose with the spinach, but she just sat on the brown-green carpet, uninterested.

Matthew was getting desperate; Ryan was almost at the end. Just then there was a clang as Ryan knocked over a block.

The rules stated he had to pick up the knocked over blocks before he continued again. Coco, not understanding that he needed to stop, started to turn after Ryan turned around to pick up the block. Before he was all the way lost, Ryan was facing him with the kale.

And then, Caramel moved.

Everything stopped. I could almost hear the crickets chirping. Right where Caramel was there was a giant guinea pig pee stain. It had turned the carpet from green-brown, to brown-black. I quickly rushed down to get paper towels just as the bell rang. In a few minutes, 22 kids were going to come up here to read aloud.

When I came back up, the blocks were put away and the guinea pigs back in their cages. But no matter how many paper towels we used, you could still see the GGPPS (giant guinea pig pee stain.)

We quickly threw away the paper towels and sat as far away from the GGPPS as possible. Kids started coming in, positioning themselves far from the questionable stain. We hoped someone would sit on it so that the teachers didn’t see. A couple of times, less observant kids almost sat on it, but friends would hurry them away. In the end all of us were crammed around the edges and not a single person was sitting within a half a foot of the GGPPS.

At the time, I thought maybe the teachers didn’t notice the GGPPS. But the next day, the stain was washed out.  If you look hard enough, you can still see the outline in the faded carpet. After that, though, whenever someone sat on the GGPPS, we would laugh, remembering the guinea pig races.

 

Lydia Cunitz is an eighth grader at the Friends Select School. She lives in Mt. Airy with her mom, dad, sister, and dog, Lucy. Her favorite writing style is poetry.

 

Baby

She’s cute and not very tall, but she sure is small
She doesn’t lay as stiff as a log, and when she’s sick she howls like a dog
Her nickname is Tab, she’s not able to drive a cab
This is because she can’t reach the pedals and put the pedal to the medal
She sits in her seat and makes a beat
She’s a little lazy baby and although she is crazy and does not know how to waddle
She sure can drink a bottle
She’s soft like silk
That’s because she drinks lots of milk
Her tongue is white
She likes to bite
Only because she has 6 little teeth
Her best friend’s name is not Aretha or Keith
When she’s asleep
She doesn’t make a peep
She doesn’t speak at all
That’s because she is still very small

 

 

Juwaireyah Dorsey is in the fifth grade at Universal Institute Charter School in Philadelphia. She writes poetry, short stories, essays and plays. Her favorite subject in school is science, she loves shoes, and her favorite color is baby blue. She likes to hang out with her family and play with her baby sister, Jennah.

The Yearbook

An innocent nine-year-old girl sat behind a wooden desk
That desk was her home away from home
The days flew by, the teachers droned on
School was simple and life stress free
Recess and gym were a godsend
She had pals, but the desk was still her best friend

Now she is a teenager, and school is a prison
Her desk and friends have turned into plastic
Drama-filled text messages and the usual catfights
Listening to lectures and writing endless essays
Scholarly success versus the social blend
But the desk still remains her best friend

Now, she enters high school
Forced to study and whatever life she had must go
Dreading the college admissions rat race
And the endless pursuit of a perfect 4.0
Music, theater, debate, and sports, her feelings irrelevant
Still, the desk is as important to her as being Class President.

Finally, her time in prison is at a close
Diploma in hand and tears down her face
She does not want to say good-bye, and yet she does
Knowing that another nine-year-old girl needs a best friend.

 

 

Nisha Bagchi is a student in the eleventh grade at Eastern Regional High School.

A Man’s World (Inspired by Alice Walker’s “Women”)

Be soft 
And supple 
Hairless like a child
Pluck your brows
Dye your hair
But don’t be so vain
Stand up for yourself
But know your place
Be wife material
But don’t be so needy and dependent
Be strong
And confident
But rely on my compliments for self esteem
Don’t starve yourself
To look like a stick 
“Only dogs like bones!”
But don’t indulge
Be sexy
Be curvy
Be thick
But don’t be a cow
Spread your legs when I ask
Wear crop tops
Skinny jeans like a second skin 
And skirts so short they look like panties 
But don’t be so easy
You’re just asking for it then
Cross your legs
Sit up straight 

Make sure your skirt is long
And your lipstick demure
But don’t be such a prude
Please me
Abide by my rules
Submit
But don’t you dare
Cry “misogyny”
After all, we’re equals, aren’t we?

 

 

Marissa Wenglicki is 15 years old and lives in Feasterville, Pennsylvania. She attends Neshaminy High School and is in tenth grade. She loves books, art, writing, and animals.

Albuquerque

I have known the untamed happiness of chill in early October,
biting against flesh, joy of light blue fleeces tucked up ‘round chins,
all the jubilation of purple dusk skies silhouetted with hot air balloons,
glory in turquoise and silver,
fried dough and alpaca fur,
the beatitude of shadows in the sky lighting up rainbow with the roar of fire,
delight in RVs, museums and Georgia O’Keeffe painted flowers,
burning in the day and crisp as apples at night.
And I have seen mountain homes perched on boulders full of cougars,
skies the color of gems and rocks the color of blood,
ancient and new, colliding in a rush of miraculous glee,
filling me up under a blue New Mexico sky.

 

 

Madeline Ragsdale’s poem, “Albuquerque,” is about a trip she and her family took to a balloon festival in October. Madeline is a sophomore at Lower Merion High School, and loves to write poetry and short stories. Music is very important to her; she’ll go to as many concerts in Philadelphia as she can afford, and her parents will allow.

9/11

9/11

deeply
nestled within
the dull concrete debris
lie the bones of those who could not say
goodbye

#

fear

fear is assuming
that the unfamiliar
is dark and evil

#

hope

living on nothing
but promises and a dream
that things will work out

 

 

Graham Laughlin is 16 and lives in Riverton, NJ. Graham runs cross country and track, and enjoys American literature and learning about the historic significance of writing. He likes writing essays and short stories, but prefers poetry because it is a freer way of writing and conveying a message. His favorite book is To Kill a Mockingbird because of its honest, simple, and often funny dialogue. His favorite magazine is National Geographic for its diverse, cultural perspectives. He loves Philadelphia because there is plenty of opportunity for business, art, science, and living a great life.

Friendship

Friendship is a stab in the back.
You put your commitment
in friendship.
You put your love,
you put your heart.
Still,
friendship betrays you.
Like a wolf
turning away from
the pack.
But there’s
no pack
it’s just you and her
and she left me
left me for someone.
Someone
who I can’t bear to say.
That’s why I am here
writing poems
and she has forgotten
who I was,
who she was,
who we used to be.

 

 

Zoe Tzanis. I love to write all sorts of things, especially poems. I’ve been writing for about 4 years. My favorite author is Veronica Roth. I really like the dystopian books she’s written. I like to play a lot of sports. Soccer is my favorite! I love the rush of running down the field with the ball.

Hunger

unger is relentless.
Hunger keeps you going
while pulling you back.
Eating away at you soul,
your nerves,
your bones.
Hunger is
that box
always waiting
at your door step.
Making you remember.
Making you always hungry
for food,
for money,
for love.
Until the day
when there is no more hunger.
No more food
no more money
no more love.

Sadness

Sadness
is like a crumpled up grey t-shirt.
Smushed,
filthy,
and
abandoned.
Yet,
there is something beautiful
about the grey t-shirt.
Something that makes you stare.
That sadness
like the t-shirt
can be picked up.
The beauty
of that it can always,
always get better.
Like a sad song,
or an old book.
Something beautiful
Out of something
others think worthless.

 

Zoe Tzanis. I love to write all sorts of things, especially poems. I’ve been writing for about 4 years. My favorite author is Veronica Roth. I really like the dystopian books she’s written. I like to play a lot of sports. Soccer is my favorite! I love the rush of running down the field with the ball.