NEHS student members crafted original poems that discuss the complex themes within Natalie Diaz’s first collection When My Brother Was an Aztec. Diaz’s collection explores the intricate layers of family, identity, addiction, and cultural heritage, and prompted these young poets to reflect on their own lives and experiences. Inspired by her evocative imagery and fearless storytelling, these poems, submitted to the NEHS Hispanic Heritage Month Poetry Writing & Performance Challenge, reflect Diaz’s literary impact while exploring unique perspectives on similar issues, creating a powerful dialogue between the poet’s writing and their own.
Congratulations to our winners! Consider submitting work to the NEHS Monologue Performance Challenge between December 9, 2024, and January 13, 2025.
The Pain of Guitar Stringing That People Call “Love”
by Itzel Tak Hambleton
PrepaTec Eugenio Garza Laguera, Mexico
Love is hidden in the things we hate the most.
In the box of sticky raisins you wish you had savored and adored,
in another man’s treasure that you crave but can’t afford.
In the salt of the ocean’s vast waters that fill up your wounds
and in the flowers that have perished beside your best friend’s tomb.
Love is trying to fly just close enough to the sun,
or the scalding hot water of the tea you drink when you are sick.
And if love uses my most painful memory as its hiding spot,
then, I guess love must be my father’s proudest achievement: his music.
“Have some compassion,” they say. “He’s just human after all.”
But I sit, and I ponder.
And I wonder if they don’t see
that I’m made of just as much
of meat, and flesh,
and bones.
His bones are a crucial part of me.
All the muscles in my body are from his guitar; the strings.
And how I love the sweet notes that cascade through my veins.
But how I hate them just the same, for driving him to run away.
Because even after being gone, he is everywhere I look.
In the crimson of my blood, in the white of my curious eyes
and the open green land I have yet to discover.
In all the lyrics of victory and betrayal I once sang every school morning.
He is to me the same roots my people fought to reconquer
from the same pair of eyes and fatal warning.
Despite what the history books might say about people like him and people like me,
I guess my land wasn’t rich enough to make him let go of the American Dream.
And yet, I love that flowers bloom when I walk on my way home,
and the force of my feet that drive me to chase a feeling.
And the words inside my head that flow at the tide’s rhythm
are just as appealing as the oil beneath where I stand.
I love the urge in my voice that screams revolution
and the fire that roars so fiercely inside my soul.
So I know that one day I’ll let go of all this pain
and I’ll love this life for what it is; my own.
Itzel Tak Hambleton is from Monterrey, Nuevo León, Mexico. She is currently a senior in high school, studying at PrepaTec Eugenio Garza Lagüera. One of her most significant accomplishments so far is to have been selected as a 2024 Creative Challenge Champion for her poem “Love is Pain.” Writing poetry has helped her work through complicated situations in her life and transform her emotions into works she can be proud of. Her passion for art began in her childhood, and she continues to improve her skills as she grows in the hope that one day the world will hear everything she has to say. She believes that NEHS is a great opportunity for her to keep evolving as a person, student, and aspiring artist, as well as to share her passions for writing and performance with people like her.
The Hidden Body Beneath Sand Dunes
by Fairouz Bsharat
Appomattox Regional Governor’s School, Virginia
A bulleted boy,
bruised, wrapped in flags.
Another white sheet
shrouds his corpse.
He becomes a sand dune,
desolate.
Around him a village is built.
A baby boy is born there
eyes open,
iron-wrought will,
covered in his mother’s blood.
An army of angels is
hidden in grains of shimmering sand
behind him.
He’ll dig his fingernails into
the clay of the earth.
It’ll cake around his cuticles.
His palms will be soft from his youth
but they’ll callous fashioning a mold
for a new beginning.
In his hands, he’ll cradle the world.
He’ll lullaby for the future with whispered promises.
Another baby boy will be born
in the village, clothed in sand and thirsty
for the desert’s water of prickly pears,
but never hungry for the insatiable saltwater taste
of freedom.
Fairouz Bsharat is a Senior Literary Arts major at Appomattox Regional Governor’s School for the Arts and Technology and the current Virginia Youth Poet Laureate for Chester. She has won first place in the Fledge National Fiction and Nonfiction Competition, been named a young poet in the community by the poetry society of VA, received two Scholastic Art & Writing Gold keys, and a Scholastic Gold Medal and American Voices Award. Fairouz is published in GSU’s literary magazine Fledge, Young Writers USA, Virginia Bards Central Review 2022, American High School Poets – May Flowers 2023 anthology, The American Library Of Poetry 2023 Empowered, among other places. She hopes for her works to one day inspire someone in any way. To keep up with her work follow her @fairouzpoetry on Instagram.
Echoes in Language
by Rebecca Gramlich
PrepaTec Queretaro, Mexico
From generation to generation, traditions are learnt,
We gather our traits from family and friends.
They shape how we express, or silently stay,
Guiding our voices through joy and pain.
Rooted in heritage, silence has prevailed.
When facing our troubles, to seek help we have failed.
Yet here, in this space, we can change and learn,
To honor our past, expressing ourselves.
Language, learned from our very start,
Shapes how we express, connects us heart to heart,
It’s more than just words,
It’s a bridge for our souls.
Let’s recognize its power, that its truly profound,
In its meaning and vowels, our stories are found,
It remains in us all, despite who we are,
When you use this power, you’ll find strength and calm.
So cherish this gift, use it with care and grace,
It can start to grow stronger, and our silence replace,
Through our words, thoughts, and dreams,
Let us echo our voice, it’s the legacy we leave.
Rebecca Gramlich Martínez is a seventeen-year-old fifth semester student at PrepaTec in Queretaro, Mexico. She has interests in music, reading, and writing, especially in English, and has been a fluent speaker of the language from an early age. Her hobbies include running, rock climbing, hiking, and spending time with her sister, brother, and friends. She always seeks new goals and challenges to pursue that have helped her grow and learn in different ways, such as sports, school, and improving social issues. She aspires to study an Engineering major and to keep finding new opportunities to learn and create new experiences.
my mind is on fire but my lips are blue
by Sophia Taghizadeh
Blue Valley Southwest High School, Kansas
Too often during the day, the cabinet behind my kitchen table is opened
the door creaking on its hinges, as desperate fingers
close on the plastic treasures inside.
Smooth, cool, lifelines I can hold in my palm
rubies that cure headaches and
amethysts I chew to stay asleep at night
to stop the pain
so I won’t wake.
Day after day my body is trying to hold itself together
but I don’t think it’s working, I don’t
think my joints can take this much longer
because the burn does not stop and
my heart won’t stop pounding and
the waves are rushing in again and
my vision fades to black.
Doctor one put a probe across my heart
and a vial against my veins
as if she could diagnose me.
(she didn’t)
Doctor two put a needle through my shoulder socket
to see if he could find
the thing that was broken.
(he couldn’t)
So rubies cure headaches and
amethysts create sleep.
until they don’t work anymore
because the pain is too great and
the doctor tells me it’s all in my head and
my joints are stretching like i’m made of rubber and
my mind is on fire but my lips are blue
like my fingers.
desperately opening that cabinet door
to stop the pain
so I won’t wake.
Sophia Taghizadeh is a junior at Blue Valley Southwest High School in Overland Park, KS. Inside and outside of school, she participates in several extracurricular activities including speech and debate, swim and dive, and playing the cello. Sophia has been an avid reader from a young age, and started writing as a hobby while in elementary school. She plans to further her education in college after school, and hopes to continue following her passion for writing.
He Destroyed Himself
by Anaís Monjarás
PrepaTec Saltillo, Mexico
You’ll be okay, they maintain,
So you stay tied to the chain.
You’ll briefly forget the pain,
But you know, it’ll hurt again.
His life, always filled with sorrow,
He found an escape from his hollow.
Knowing he’ll eventually hit the floor,
Knocking at 3 a.m., on your door.
Screams from the voices in his head,
“The devil, there,” he said.
You felt a huge despair,
Because you knew, it had no repair.
Strong shaking to the core,
His soul completely sore.
His heart already inhumed.
You knew, your brother was doomed.
He says non-stop, with idle eyes,
“He, it’s here for me,” he cries.
Red eyes like a lightning cigarette,
You knew, he was already dead.
Was it worth it? To destroy this person.
A shelter with no light is a dungeon.
A marvelous man, covered in horrible scars
My dear brother, we’ll see you in the stars.
Anaís Monjarás is a student at Tecnológico de Monterrey in Saltillo, Mexico. Art is her passion; she has dedicated years of hard work, time and commitment to various projects. Her work is plentiful and has been successful. She has participated in various projects such as semiannual painting exhibitions, the filming of a regional award-winning short film about harassment, and a recent concert made and organized by an art group. She is currently working on a play, a documentary about violence against immigrant women, and writing a script for another short film. She also participates in other artistic activities: she has played violin and piano for years and is a talented musician.
Ghost Hunger
by Brody Watts
Blue Valley Southwest High School, Kansas
He stands in the doorway,
thin as a shadow stretched across the kitchen floor.
His hands, the shake of rain tapping on the glass.
No one asks what he’s taken today.
They’ve learned to read the light in his eyes.
Sometimes dull, sometimes a flicker,
a match blown out before it finds flame.
At the table, he chews air,
imagining food they cannot see.
A plate is set before him anyway,
empty but for the scrape of his hunger.
He calls it medicine,
his fingers playing piano across his arm,
veins like quiet sheet music.
Each note, a numbness.
Each note, a step deeper into darkness.
Grief hides in the pots,
boiling water for tea no one will drink.
They watch him unravel,
a loose thread pulled and pulled
until no one knows where he begins and
where the sickness ends.
There was a time when the only ghosts they knew
were the ones they invented.
Hands cupped over flashlights,
whispering stories to spook themselves awake.
Now, his ghosts walk in daylight,
sit beside him in the car,
crawl under his skin and call it home.
There’s a madness that grows like hunger,
a need that gnaws, it leaves nothing behind
but the shell of a man.
Still, they hold him in their arms,
all of them starving for a cure
they can never find.
Brody Watts is a junior at Blue Valley Southwest with a strong interest in medicine. He is a member of the Science, Math, and English Honor Societies and participates in his district’s Emergency Medical Services CAPS program, gaining hands-on healthcare experience. As a varsity lacrosse player, Brody balances academics and athletics, showcasing his dedication to both. He enjoys helping out in his community, spending time with his friends and family, and pursuing his personal interests, such as going to the gym, reading, and playing games. Brody is committed to a future in the medical field and is always seeking ways to expand his skills and knowledge.
My Tongue is a Stone
by Ege Erciyas
Uskudar American Academy, Türkiye
My mother’s tongue is a stone,
Heavier than ever when I told
Spanish was heavy and pointy.
I wanted words of butter,
Sentences like the soft bread in a lunchbox.
I wanted words tasty,
Not as hard as a stone or sharp as a shard of glass.
I wanted words that don’t cut your throat,
That didn’t choke and could slide.
That night I wanted pizza
Something normal, not beans and cumin.
She sighed with a heavy breath
Her breath sank down into the pot.
Filled with heavy years, thick like the stew
I saw the weight of her silence in the slowly rising steam.
A voice not heard but understood.
Her silence was thick,
Heavier than any word.
I said again “Spanish is sharp.
Like pebbles in my mouth
Like chewing on bones.”
She turned, her eyes hard and her heart fragile
As the molcajete; hard, unbreakable
But worn and frayed
She said with her weak voice
Trembling under the weight
“This tongue, this stone has fed you for your life
The stone is not words but your blood.”
I was drowning alone,
Like a fish on the stove
Gasping in the heat of stares.
I felt like a peacock in the sea
My voice was swallowed
My lips weighed down
Now by the stone of my own tongue.
I drowned just because the blood was heavy,
it was fouled in their eyes.
All I wanted was to also have words of butter.
Ege Erciyas is an only child and was born and raised in Istanbul, Türkiye. Growing up he had a passion for music and literature. At the age of five, he started playing the piano and later moved onto playing the flute. He also had a love for sports; he played water polo for a long time and currently does rowing. He is fond of reading fantasy novels and the works of Alexandre Dumas. He attended the Bilfen Schools for his elementary and middle school education. He is now in tenth grade and is currently attending Uskudar American Academy. He plays in rock bands as the bassist and is a member of the school robotics team.
National English Honor Society
The National English Honor Society (NEHS), founded and sponsored by Sigma Tau Delta, is the only international organization exclusively for secondary students and faculty who, in the field of English, merit special note for past and current accomplishments. Individual secondary schools are invited to petition for a local chapter, through which individuals may be inducted into Society membership. Immediate benefits of affiliation include academic recognition, scholarship and award eligibility, and opportunities for networking with others who share enthusiasm for, and accomplishment in, the language arts.
America’s first honor society was founded in 1776, but high school students didn’t have access to such organizations for another 150 years. Since then, high school honor societies have been developed in leadership, drama, journalism, French, Spanish, mathematics, the sciences, and in various other fields, but not in English. In 2005, National English Honor Society launched and has been growing steadily since, becoming one of the largest academic societies for secondary schools.
As Joyce Carol Oates writes, “This is the time for which we have been waiting.” Or perhaps it was Shakespeare: “Now is the winter of our discontent made glorious summer . . .” we celebrate English studies through NEHS.
National English Honor Society accepts submissions to our blog, NEHS Museletter, from all membership categories (students, Advisors, and alumni). If you are interested in submitting a blog, please read the Suggested Guidelines on our website. Email any questions and all submissions to: submit@nehsmuseletter.us.
