Emily Dromgold '17 and Jiaming "Martin" Mao '17 both had pieces of writing make it to print in Wilbraham & Monson Academy publications last school year.
Last week, the seniors' writing talents entered a new and unexpected area when they were published in an online magazine, "The Marble Collection." TMC is a Boston-based literary and arts online and print magazine for teenagers.
Emily's poem "Crayons" and Martin's nonfiction work "The Knot That Binds," which were both writing assignments for WMA English classes, were selected.
Emily has had numerous articles published in the school newspaper, Atlas. She has enjoyed poetry and creative writing since a young age, when she realized there was so much latitude allowed and welcomed.
"Poetry has been close to my heart," Emily said. "It makes me feel happy my work and poetry was recognized on a larger scale as well and I can share that with others and hopefully they can feel something. I can share my own opinions and values but have the reader interpret that personally. That's a special thing about poetry. It doesn't have to be direct. Each person can get an individual way of perceiving it."
In "Crayons," Emily reflects on her time as a little girl, when everything she witnessed seemed so exciting and bright.
"I think that's a beautiful thing," explained Emily, who wrote the poem two years ago in Honors English 10 for Mr. Sean McGrath's '07. "It's a fragile existence when it's through not rose-colored glasses because you don't know any different, but when everything from a cup of tea to a thunderstorm could be fantastic or wondrous. I like that idea that you can still see the world that way as an older person. I wanted to capture that."
Martin won a regional award for his artwork in 2015, and was also been published in WMA's 2016 edition of the "Rubicon."
"My strength isn't literature," he said. "I'm surprised and happy I was able to be published someplace outside of the school."
Martin wrote his nonfiction work as part of a memoir assignment for Mr. Tim Harrington '73 in AP Language a year ago. He wrote the story based off a photo of him dressed in a suit and tie.
The story starts with Martin being excited to dress formally, largely due to his father's influence, and then shifts to him feeling disinterested because he has to frequently wear formal attire at his boarding school. With encouragement from Mr. Harrington, he brilliantly brought the story full circle and added another dimension by taking the story from mostly physical to spiritual.
"At first, "Martin explained, "I did not have that part, and the whole memoir didn't come together. And then after I talked to Mr. Harrington, he gave me some advice."
Below is a copy of Emily's poem and Martin's story.
Is there no lesson to be learned
From the wonder in a child's eyes?
Full of endless possibilities.
Imagination cannot be controlled.
One can visit a million regions
As lessons are always learned.
"The Knot That Binds"
By Jiaming "Martin" Mao '17
Wilbraham & Monson Academy
Before I turned twelve, I had never worn formal clothes. My knowledge of such things came from my father. Every weekend, he would iron his own white shirts. The popping sound of the water vapor always drew me close even if I was sitting on the sofa. The first time I heard the sound, I put down my comic book to see what he was doing. He was ironing a white shirt. Wrinkles on the shirt disappeared with the iron passing through. I stared at my father's moves, from collar to cuff, until he finished and put the iron away. I stuck out my tiny finger and touched the shirt. It was warm and smooth and I imagined myself as a man who wore this shirt with a perfectly knotted tie.
On the winter vacation when I was eleven, I got my first chance to dress up properly. I traveled with my parents on a cruise. Formal dress code was required at dinner. The first night on the cruise, my father and I dressed up together. Standing in front of a mirror in the room, I examined myself in a white shirt and khaki trousers, feeling proud. My father taught me how to tie a Windsor knot: "First, pull your tie like this. Don't make it too long or too short" He demonstrated, "The tip of your tie should locate right on your buckle." The Windsor knot was complex. My first knot was too big. The length of back exceeds that of the front. The tiny piece of tie made me look funny. I tried again. This time, the tie was so long it reached my thighs. I tore the tie off my neck and threw it on the chair.
But my father picked it up. He had a beautiful triangular knot on the collar with the tip of the tie right on his buckle. "Don't be frustrated. Try again." He put the tie back around my neck, untied his perfect knot and broke down the steps. I stared at his move and my hands started moving along. A perfect Windsor knot was created with my two hands, just as good as my father's. He knelt and pulled my knot further up. While I could hardly breathe, the tight feeling on my neck made me comfortable.
"Confucius said in Analects: 'Be mindful of the li (etiquette). One must not be ashamed for wearing shabby clothes, but one shall for not wearing them properly.' Make sure to have your tie at the right length and pull your knot all the way up." He patted my shoulder and said. "Check yourself in the mirror, what a nice young man!"
Looking into the mirror, I saw myself dwelled impeccably. My father's recognition made me even more excited. Yet, the beauty of these clothes made me feel I should remain calm. So I did not, or at least I thought I did not, show much excitement. I pretended to be indifferent about my great achievement because a man would never be surprised about being able to tie a simple knot. I followed everything my father did. I held the door for others; I smiled and said, "thank you" to the waiter who poured water for me; I sliced my steak into smaller pieces than I usually did. Every move was in perfect etiquette. A photographer took a picture of my mother and me. My hair was curled up because of sweat, but I raised my chin up and smiled proudly. Even when I finished dinner and returned to our cabin, I did not want to change.
Not only did I become tired of dressing up, I lost interest in learning. When I first arrived at the boarding school, studying at an American high school fascinated me. I debated over a math problem for twenty minutes, even if the teacher would explain it the next day. Yet the passion ended soon after I made highest honor roll my first trimester. Before that, I had no clear understanding of my academic ability on the scale of American high school, nor did my parents. When my parents realized a GPA of 4.0 was reachable for me, the bar was fixed even higher. And I set my own bar high as well. I started to care only about my grades, and I wasted no time on things that did not boost my grades. When someone asked me a math problem, my typical reply became: "It won't be on the test, so why do you ask?"
One day, my father texted me to send him a selfie in dress code, "I want to see if you dress properly." So the next morning, I dressed up as usual. I took a photo in front of the mirror. The person in the picture was well dressed. He had his Windsor knot a perfect triangle and the tie at the right length—the tip on the buckle.
Hurrying down to the dining hall, I held the door for a girl behind me. I smiled and said "thank you" to the waitress who served me an omelet. I stepped to a table and sat down. Although time was tight, I cut the omelet in small pieces before I ate. Then a sudden realization struck me: I was doing everything I used to think that men did. It was not only the appearance that my father cared; the li was what my father wanted me to understand.
So again I pulled the knot up tightly.