I never thought that entering high school and learning how to write would make me forget how to be a writer. I never considered that uncovering the workings of language, would make me forget that words ever held magic. Most of all, I never believed that growing older and more mature would make me forget how to see the glitter of inspiration in the air, because I was too attuned to the stark world of reality.

When I was younger I plucked stories out of the air because for me they were easy to see. They glimmered like specks of dust in certain light, and liked to bounce off one another and land in my friends’ hair, collecting on each individual strand so that even the follicles shone bright.

But as I grew older, I stopped seeing stories in the air as sparks of light. Poems were no longer an exotic type of sweetness on my tongue. The music of words didn’t swell in my body.

In the midst of all the chaos of junior year I neglected to make time for myself just to sit down and write. Whenever I wrote it was for a class, for a grade, not for myself. This led me done an unpleasant path of being disconnected from most of my works. I thought that I would never be inspired to write again.

But recently I read a poem called “Parsley” by: Rita Dove for my author project. On the first read I didn’t understand what was going on at all, but by the end of the fifth read I was devouring the words. Some of them tasted too cliché. Some of them were too intense. However, most of them, to my surprise, tasted like chocolate, soft and rich, deep and smooth. They had filled an appetite that I forgot I ever had.

— Stephanie Thompson, Public Relations & Marketing Editor

This year has been a busy one to say the least. With AP tests coming up and junior year winding down, the juniors are starting to think of our goodbyes to the seniors on staff. It is difficult to describe the experiences I have had this year on staff as one of the editors-in-chief, and I want this post to stay true to those experiences that I will never forget.

Emily Cramer- Has taught me that it is okay to cry and laugh about it when InDesign is attempting to save a file. She has taught me that senioritis is a lie, it is a code name for giving up, and that I should never let it affect me. She has taught me that I should always be kind, but firm in my decisions and to believe in myself.

Emily Leitch- Has taught me that it is okay to talk to a computer when it is not doing what you want it to. She has taught me that it is okay to stand up for what I believe in, even when everyone else thinks something different. She has taught me how to express my emotions, and how to enjoy life to the fullest.

Raegen Carpenter- Has taught me that laughing is something to be done loudly and proudly and that I can always find something funny in a serious moment.

Brittanie Demps- Has taught me that hard work pays off, and to never give up on what I am trying to accomplish, no matter what gets thrown at me.

Kiera Nelson- Has taught me that being sassy can still be classy and that I should always accept my mistakes gracefully and be willing to fix them the next time around.

Emily Jackson- Has taught me that poetry can change my life (her poetry to be exact) and that any moment can be turned into a poem if it has raw emotion connected to it.

Haley Hitzing- Has taught me that being organized pays off, and that when I say I am going to do something, I should always follow through with it.

Makenzie Fields- Has taught me how to effectively communicate with other people without being afraid to say how I feel and that I need to stick with a plan once I have made it.

Zoe DeWitt- Has taught me that being opinionated is okay, and that I should always be excited for tomorrow.

I want to thank all the seniors for everything they have taught me this year. I will miss all of you dearly, but I know the class of 2015 will handle your legacy with care because of how well you taught us.

– Sarah Buckman, Editor in Chief

Poetry isn’t a thing, but a being. It gives voices and confidence to many people that become the very artists that many of us look up to. As a poetry editor on the Élan staff, I made it my goal to commit to more exposure of the art and form of poetry. Throughout April, National Poetry Month, the staff has worked to push poetry out of corners, like lining the hall with poems and even distributing poetry grams. However, one major accomplishment met my goal for the promotion of Poetry Month was to hold a school wide slam. Holding the slam this year was extremely important to me because it was abandoned last year. It was hard for me to watch all of the preparation and promotions go to waste, to watch our audience dwindle until there was no one. This year was like starting over, like taking the hand of a child and teaching them how to walk or speak again after months of practice. Doing the slam this year became a child that whined and wrecked things until it had my full attention.
The Poetry Slam grew and matured, becoming a project that held an ample audience that was ready and willing to sit and listen to poetry, letting it take over. I cannot put into words how wonderful it felt to watch each participant go up and give the audience piece after piece, as if to introduce themselves formally as artist with words that matter. The slam was a good way to promote poetry because when you host an event, the people that support are those who love to allow themselves to become one with art. Art is more than a thing, but a being that sprouts an obsession, passion, and true love: poetry.

–Brittanie Demps, Poetry Editor