Sammy Baymont ’28

I have a dream, a dream that is in the cold ice rinks of my city, Montreal. I have a dream that hockey is for every kid who wants to play this game, not just a certain group of people or come from a certain background. Hockey is a big part of where I’m from, but sometimes the people that run it forgets the values it is supposed to teach, like fairness, respect, etc….

At a young age, discrimination in hockey started early for me .. Some kids like me got less ice time because of their last name, their accent, or how much money their dad had. Others are judged by their size or the color of their skin before they even get a real chance to show how much their talent really is. Coaches don’t always mean to do this, but the damage still happens more than people think. Kids start to feel invisible, and in a lot of cases lose the love of the game they always had. Even for me, it only took one coach and I almost stopped playing.

I have a dream that one day in Montreal and everywhere in the world, every hockey player will be judged by their effort and talent, not by stereotypes. I have a dream that coaches will look past what parents and other people have to offer to them and see true potential. I have a dream that locker rooms will be places full of kids that actually deserve their spots. Hockey should be like a breakaway, where everyone moves forward the right way the way it should be, passing the puck, trusting each other.

Discrimination in youth hockey is like bad ice. You can still skate on it, but at one point, someone will fall. When kids quit hockey because they feel unwanted, the sport loses more than players, it loses some of their best players for stupid reasons. Hockey should build confidence, not break it down. It should be a place where kids learn how to stand up after they fall, not a place where they are pushed down by things that they don’t have control over because of people above them.

I want to be part of the change since I was a victim of unfairness . I want to speak up when I see unfair treatment by being a coach. I want to support kids who are treated differently and remind them that they deserve to be there. One day, I hope to help young talents from minorities to  make sure everyone gets a fair chance like I always wished I had, even if they are not the best right away. Growth takes time, just like everything else in life.

I have a dream too, that hockey in Montreal will become a better sport where everyone feels welcome and at their place. I have a dream that the rinks in my town will belong to every kid, no matter who they are and where they come from. Until that dream becomes real, I will keep believing, keep trying, and keep skating forward for every kid that didn’t get to accomplish their dream, I’ll do it for them.

Rita Franco ’28

I am happy to join you today in what will go down in history as the event that changes
the whole world’s perspective of outcasts, known as homeless by society.
Our nation, even the whole planet, has evolved and grown over the last hundreds of
years, while the vagrants remain untouched. Every block or street contains a
disrespected human, seen as inferior and spitted at. People pass by without bothering,
or afraid to look down and meet with the eyes of a dirty face, feeling a few seconds
uncomfortable because they do not want to empty their pockets on someone that is
placed below them in the social pyramid. The best of these people might even throw
them a few pennies, thinking that for today they have done enough to be good under
God’s eyes, but they are not much better than the privileged that do not dare to feel
the existence of these lonely souls under their feet. Kindness is not giving; it is
teaching.

After hundreds of years of poverty, we still do not learn. After hundreds of years of
poverty, we still do not care. After hundreds of years of poverty, these down-and-outs
still have to feel ashamed of their conditions. After hundreds of years of poverty,
homeless people are still languishing in the corners of society, hiding behind the
shadows to not bother other people’s eyes. After hundreds of years of poverty, they
still do not learn, why? Because we do not teach them.
In a sense, we found a starving bear in the woods. Afraid but also compassionate, we
feed him with what we can find, and the bear feels satisfied, but that fish that we just
gave him will not feed him for long. Everyday we keep feeding the bear, thinking that
we are doing him a favour, confident that he will grow and turn into a strong,
independent bear, but no, that does not happen. The bear grows being dependent on
us; it cannot walk or eat without our help, but we can not do much more. We are
running out of fish, we are running out of energy, we are running out of life.
After our death, the bear dies a couple of days after, starving until its last gasp. Why?
Why did the bear die if we fed him? Because we gave him food while we should have
taught him how to hunt. At the end, nothing changed; years passed, but the bear still
starved. Back to the day when we first gave him that fish, we should have taught him
how to hunt it instead of destroying its life and our own life. Back to the day when we
first met him, we should have given him the recipe of success instead of the well
cooked fresh tuna.

I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and
tribulations. I understand that after the sacrifice that you have made to be able to
stand here next to me, you are not willing to listen to children’s tales; however, this is
not a simple tale. This has a moral, a lesson, and a big truth behind it. In this modest
chair, I stand here today to ask all of you, my brothers and sisters, to stop ignoring it
and to make a change today. If we all get together and help, teach, and give these
people of no fixed abode a ladder to climb out instead of a shovel to bury themselves
deeper in, we can change their lives and our lives. I do not ask for much. If you do not
own a ladder to share, you can always give them a smile or a conversation to remind
them that they are not less. To build a smile on their faces.

Please… help me achieve this dream!

Nasiba Kharoti ’28

I have a dream that someday people wouldn’t have to run away because a stranger is taking over their homes. I wish that someday, children wouldn’t have to run away from childhood to adulthood because they’re not offered the same opportunities as other children. I wish that someday, people would understand that taking somebody’s home is something very bitter rather than sweet. I wish that someday, people wouldn’t be scared of going back to their homes just because they are scared of death.  

The world has been so unfair for decades and the only thing that  a human being wouldn’t stop wanting is MORE and MORE. Nobody in this world is in a rush for anything more than humans. We are just as unthankful as the cold breeze of the winter. Our hearts are full of so much hatred toward each other that if it could coral up into a ball, we wouldn’t be able to kick it because of how massive it could be. On the other hand, so many people have died and so many people have lost their homes but it seems like we can’t get enough of each other’s suffering.  I wish that someday people would stop and take it slow from there. I hope that everyone could realize just how hard it is to lose yourself just to get what others already have. I got so many dreams and I got everything I wanted, but not in a way that I wanted. I hope that people aren’t judging based on gender, color, nationality, ethnicity, language, situation, history, mistakes,  physical appearance, and personal life choices. 

I wish that someday people wouldn’t have to fight hard for what they want or already deserve. People think that we have come a long way for building, educating, creating, inventing, and making it so easy with technology but what they are missing on is the pursuit of life. I hope that people will stop chasing and try to be more interested in becoming each other’s happiness. I hope that everyone would be grateful for what they have rather than wanting more from people that they have got no business with. I just don’t understand how people could want more than what they already have and to have the feeling of enjoying somebody else’s sadness or suffering is just so wild. The only thing that I have always heard my whole life is “freedom” which my people don’t own even though they have never wanted more than what they had. I am very grateful for what I have but I don’t call this freedom or chasing dreams because the only dream that I have is to have a peaceful life for my people and I. 

I have a dream that the world would become a brighter place and more welcoming. The problem that we have to this day is the fact that we live in such a dark world that the children want happiness, adults want more and elderly want another chance to live. I hope that one day people would realize that the world is not about competitions or reputations but it’s about how happy you are for yourself and someone else that you don’t know. I hope that one day people would know that the world is not about power but its the simple way of living and we can all see that example in non-human creatures. I hope that some day people will stop taking away humans and non-human homes for happiness because I don’t see any joy in you taking my home and the deer doesn’t see any joy in your talent for haunting. There is no joy in making people beg for food and no joy in making women work for men because she is a woman. There is no joy in making a woman not have the right to attend school just because she is a woman. I have a dream that the world would change for the better and there would be a peaceful living for every individual.  

By: Kiera Heath ’25

Snow is gone, and the grass is back here on campus! Spring has finally sprung, so say goodbye to winter coats and snow pants and say hello to our recent fashion looks on campus. Here are some popular spring looks that are seen around campus and some ideas to add to your outfit:

Now that our spring clothes are out, I’ve seen a popularity of light colors like yellows, pinks, and blues, with cool patterns. Including designs such as floral and stripes are simple to find in shirts, pants, and shoes. Some easy ways to add a pop of color to your outfit can be with accessories like earrings, a cool pair of sunglasses, a necklace or a bracelet. Why not get a pair of shoes that’s not all one shade? Add some color to your feet as well!

Another big trend in spring shirts has been babydoll tops. This is one of our blog editors herself, Casidhe! In this picture, she has a floral-pattern, light pink babydoll tank top. These kinds of shirts look super summery, fitting loosely during the perfect sunny weather and goes perfect with any outfit, adding a nice burst of light colors. 

Next, we have jeans. Yes, jeans can be worn through every season, but there are so many styles of denim. Specifically, low-rise baggy jeans or jean shorts have been a popular choice on campus. Jean shorts are definitely great for the warmer weather, and baggy jeans are a comfortable fit in this heat. And if you’re not so into jeans, why not try a jean jacket?

Lastly, an option that is perfect for spring is linen! Pants, shorts, or a blouse, linen has a loose, comfortable fit for this pretty weather. You can get these pants or button-up shirts in all kinds of patterns and colors that you can easily style. 

In the end, what you wear is all your choice. So if you’re stuck on some ideas for your spring outfits, have some fun and maybe add a bit of color or trendy patterns.

By: Guilhermo Felis ’27

After finishing Kafka’s classic novella The Metamorphosis, World Literature students were asked to reimagine the iconic opening sentence. Guilhermo Felis’ fantastic take on Kafka’s dilemma has a message for all of us. 

When Guilhermo woke up one morning from unsettling dreams, he transformed into a monstrous Golden Retriever. The sunlight warming his furry body, the missing hands replaced by paws, and the alarm ringing in the background all confirmed it: this wasn’t a dream. Panicked and sloppy, he fell out of bed, still learning to balance on four legs like a newborn. Alone in the dorm room, he tried to call for his roommate, Philip, but only a bark echoed back at him. Dizzy and confused, Guilhermo’s mind went crazy. Why me? Is this permanent? He pawed at his laptop, barely managing to email his teachers with a fake excuse: “Flu. Can’t come to class.” Just as he hit send, the door opened. It was his roommate and, without thinking, Guilhermo hid under his bed, holding his breath as Philip muttered something in Swedish about being late and rushed out, never noticing the oversized dog. 

After an hour, Guilhermo crawled out, opened the door with his snout, and, without knowing why, driven by some new instinct, he turned and lifted his leg, peeing right on his door. A strange, primal satisfaction was released and he knew that he was changing, not just in body, but in ways he could no longer fully control. He sniffed the hallway, going to doors and picking up scents that told him far more than he ever wanted to know. Who skipped class, who had food, who needed a shower. He followed it down to the bathroom, looked into the mirror, and saw himself fully: a large, golden dog with the same anxious eyes. Horrified, he rushed back to his room and curled up in bed, hoping sleep would change it. But when he woke, nothing had changed. It was lunchtime. The door opened. Philip walked in and froze. “Whose dog is this?” he said aloud. But as he stepped closer, he noticed the Brazilian jersey around the dog’s neck. His eyes widened. “No way…”

The days that followed were strange and lonely. Guilhermo stayed hidden most of the time, sneaking around the dorms and only going out when it was quiet. Philip eventually figured out that this dog was Guilhermo, but there was little they could do. Guilhermo watched from the sidelines as life moved on without him. Classes, practices, and friendships all passed through his dog’s eyes while sitting quietly. Then one morning, after a nap filled with barking and strange dreams, he opened his eyes not in his dorm, but in a sunny backyard. The air was different with warness and the smell of cut grass. He blinked in disbelief. This was his home in Brazil. And standing across from him, was his childhood dog, Zeus. Another Golden Retriever. Guilhermo stepped forward, heart sped up. Somehow, in this place, they could understand each other. “You’ve finally made it,” Zeus said, his voice calm, almost human. “I brought you here for a reason.” 

Guilhermo stared at him, stunned. “You… what? How? Why would you do this to me?” Zeus sat down in the grass, looking up at the sky. “Everyone thinks being a dog is easy. That we don’t worry, don’t stress, don’t think. But that’s not true. We feel everything, loneliness, fear, boredom. We just can’t tell anyone. You always said you wished you could be a dog, remember?” Guilhermo’s ears drooped. He had said that before. On rough school days or when the pressure got too high, he’d joke, “Man, I just wish I could be a dog: eat, sleep, play, and that’s it.” Zeus continued.“So I gave you a chance to see life from my side. You think it’s freedom, but it’s a different kind of cage. You don’t choose your schedule, your food, or even when you can go outside. You sit by the door, waiting. You sit by the window, hoping. You learn patience because you have no other choice.” Guilhermo looked down. The memory of those quiet hours at school, lying curled in his dorm, suddenly felt heavier. He hadn’t been free as a dog. “But why me?” he asked. Zeus gave a small, kind bark. “Because you needed to understand. You were starting to forget how lucky you are. To think for yourself, to learn, to speak, to dream. So I chose you to live like me. Just for a while. So you could come back grateful.” The words hit hard. Guilhermo felt tears in his eyes, even though his body couldn’t cry the same way anymore. Zeus stood and walked closer, nose to nose. “It’s time to go back now. Remember what you’ve seen. And never wish to be anything other than yourself.” 

When Guilhermo woke up the next morning, he was back in his human form. His hands, his voice, his body. Everything had returned, but his thoughts were not the same. That summer, he flew back to Brazil. The moment he stepped into the backyard, Zeus came running. They embraced, man and dog, and in that silent hug, there was no need for words.

By: Emily Finch ’27

After finishing Kafka’s classic novella The Metamorphosis, World Literature students were asked to reimagine the iconic opening sentence. Emily Finch’s chilling take on Kafka’s dilemma resonates with everyone shivering through spring in New England and waiting for the summer Sun. 

When Emily woke up one morning from unsettling dreams, she found herself changed in her bed into a monstrous moth. She looked around her room, which now seemed a tinge more red and purple than before. That’s when she looked down at herself to see her body, fuzzy and gray with six separate legs tucked into it. Her wings shot out to either side spontaneously, one slamming against the wall and the other toppling various cans of sparkling water from her nightstand to the floor. She jolted, fluttered, and spurred about until she fell from her lofted bed to the clutter of clothing and random objects strewn across her floor. She stirred around the contents of her floor with her wings, sending wrappers, pencils, paper, clothing, and coins flying around to cover even more ground than before. “Stop! Stop! Stop!” she told herself, but she couldn’t keep from spiraling and spinning about. She finally was able to settle onto her legs, but she still felt the continuous unease and panic inside as she’d had. Her body still felt prickly and had a chill as always; at least some things never changed. 

It must’ve been around 8:20 a.m., the time she usually woke, because Emily’s roommate, Aiva, was absent from the small room. It was a relief to her, as she never wanted anyone to see her in such a low state. It was almost as if her feelings from the night before had multiplied tremendously and manifested in her sleep. It panicked her, but dually was a blessing as she would certainly not be attending any classes for as long as she’d be like this. She always avoided missing school no matter how badly she wanted to at times, but now she had gotten to such a state that maybe she could excuse herself until she got things together and turned back.

 Another chill tore through her body. She couldn’t stand the persistent chill, so she scampered over to Aiva’s lamp, which never turned off whether night or day. She clung to the light, trying to absorb any heat that she could, but the chill still troubled her unbearably. She scuttled to the door and fluttered her wings until she hit the handle and sent it ajar. She pushed herself out into the hallway, her wings dragging across either side of the doorframe. Crawling up along the wall to the ceiling, she sat upon every light, but none could fill the chill in her core. She began to fret in search of a cure or a solution or something to numb the chill until she came to the dorm door. 

She got a running start and spread her wings as she jumped into the door and slammed it wide open. She tumbled down the stairs, crashing against the pavement and scraping up her delicate body. That’s when she looked up to the sky and saw it: the Sun. And in that moment, she knew that her chill would persist until she flew there. She looked at her body, fuzzy and bloodied. It was at that moment she decided that, in order to free herself, she had to reach the Sun, and so, she fluttered her wings and began to fly.  

She watched as the ground fled from her, and the campus dissipated slowly. She looked up and began to flutter faster and faster, hoping to see the Sun grow bigger. From then on, Emily flew higher and higher in desperation towards the Sun, hoping maybe for enough to rid her of the chill. 

By: Peyton Grebinar ’27

After finishing Kafka’s classic novella The Metamorphosis, World Literature students were asked to reimagine the iconic opening sentence. Peyton Grebinar’s humorous take on Kafka’s dilemma resonates with every Hebron student struggling to wake up early and make it to class on time! 

When Peyton woke up one morning from unsettling dreams, she found herself changed in her bed into a monstrous tortoise. After waking up to this new form, Peyton was extremely startled. Most people would freak out and call 911,  but she could not because she did not have fingers. Instead of freaking out, Peyton climbed onto her bedside table, then onto her desk, then took a leap of faith onto the ground, landing with a thud. Being a giant tortoise meant moving a lot slower than normal, but it also saved a lot of time. As a giant reptile, you do not need to spend time doing your hair, makeup, or picking out an outfit. Peyton decided the smartest thing to do would be to get an early start to her day, so she had the idea of leaving to go to class at 7:45. Just as she began her crawl to the door, her roommate Beccy woke up from her sleep. Beccy climbed out of bed, eyes still not fully open. She grabbed her toothbrush and headed towards the door when she caught her foot on a large solid object, and BOOM! Down went beccy. 

After getting up and pulling herself together, Becy gasped as she looked at what Peyton had become. She started laughing out loud uncontrollably for at least five minutes. Once the hysterics were over, Beccy realized Peyton couldn’t do anything on her own, so she grabbed Peytons bag and put it around her large turtle shell, opening the door for Peyton. Beccy watched Peyton waddle her way to the stairs, and begin her walk. While making her time down the stairs, Peyton felt determined to have a good day even though she was now an animal. 

By the time she made it to the last step of the dorm, and out the door, Peyton was famished. To this she decided to stop and grab a bite to eat. She found the most beautiful, scrumptions, tasty looking grass! When she got to the grass she began to nibble, and ate until her belly was full. She then carried on and made it to the sidewalk. At the side walk there were many cars zooming by, but none of them could see little Peyton, only a few inches off the ground waiting to safely cross the road. After a little while there was a break in the line of cars. Peyton decided to be brave and cross quickly. She stepped into the crosswalk and made it about half way when all of a sudden, a giant eighteen wheeler came barreling down the road. In this moment she went into sheer panic mode, wondering whether she should turn back and try to make it back where she started, or to get across to the other side. In all of this time she wasted thinking, the truck had gotten up to her, and she hasn’t moved an inch. What Peyton forgot was that she was now a tortoise. A tortoise with a big strong shell on her back. She used her shell, hiding her body into it and shut her eyes, hoping for the best. 

Peyton waited a moment before sticking her neck back out to check if she was safe. When she looked, she saw the coast was clear, so she wasted no time and quickly crossed. Peyton now began to hurry on her way, still frazzled from what had just happened. She walked across the mile long senior path, smiling at everyone she passed, until she finally made it to the school building. She waited for a group of students to walk out, slipping in the door behind them. Once inside the building, Peyton looked up and saw her arch nemesis: The stairs in the school building. She bravely began her trip up the stairs, looking up as if looking up towards the top of a mountain. When she made it to the landing she stopped just until she caught her breath, then she carried on. She climbed for what felt like forever, passing by many of her fellow friends and teachers. She looked up and realized she had made it up all of the stairs. She hobbled towards Ms. Watermans door, only to realize it was shut and all of the lights were off. Peyton also realized the building was extremely quiet. She pushed open the door to the fire escape only to see the moon smiling back at her. Peyton then heard the bells of the clocktower ring. One ring, Two rings, Three rings, Four rings, on and on until she counted ten rings. TEN RINGS!? That was when Peyton realized how long it took her, and that she had missed her entire day of school because she was turned into a tortoise. 

At this point, all that Peyton could think of was how she was going to explain this to Ms. Teske, and the attendance office. Peyton was in big trouble but hey, at least she got to be a tortois for a day!

By Alex Vogel ’26

I am truly honored to have the opportunity to be here, to even just breathe this air in front of me. But I am even more blessed to be able to speak on a matter that is very near and dear to my heart. A matter that binds us all, a challenge that knows no borders, no class, no creed, no social hierarchy. A matter that is taking one life every eleven minutes. 

When nations wage war, it is one versus another. War is hell. War is publicly condemned because of its capability to steal human lives too soon. When nations wage war, there are protests, demonstrations against it, and pleas to make it end. The act of war itself is hell. Those in war can attest that being caught in the crossfire of a war…is hell, being in the frontlines of war…is hell, being on the sidelines of a war, witnessing untimely death…is hell. Battling against a war is hell. Yet in almost every national conflict, there is a group of people that come together to fight this hell. Soldiers in war murder the enemy.

This dreadful matter I speak of is one of self-murder. Suicide: the seemingly only answer when the struggles of the mind win the war.

I have hope that the silent battles of the mind will one day be welcomed and not discussed behind closed doors. I see a time when a chorus of empathy and understanding will ease the weight of depression, anxiety, and despair rather than being carried alone.

I have a hope that one day, people who fight behind closed doors would no longer feel ashamed and will instead stand tall in the light of acceptance, surrounded by people who say, “We see you, we hear you, we are with you.”

I have a hope that the stigma that suffocates the soul will crumble like ancient walls, giving way to a society where mental health is not a secret to be hidden, but a truth that is unanimously accepted. 

I have a hope that instead of demanding that peacefulness be sacrificed for work, workplaces would become shelters to the artillery that is mental hell. Shelters where everybody will feel appreciated and complete.

I have a hope that our hospitals will treat not only broken bones but broken spirits, that our leaders will legislate not only for the economy but for the emotional well-being of the supposedly free people.

And so I say, let us rise from the commentary and judgement of others. Let us rise up with the courage to speak openly, for there is no solution in silence. Let us rise up and embrace each other, for there is no shame in struggle. Let us rise up and create a world where mental health is no longer a war that one must fight alone. Let us rise up and fight this war that is more lethal than total war. Let us rise up until every soul knows the joy of being cared for and looked out for. Let us lead in love and acceptance, not judgement and belittlement. Let us rise until the day this war against the mind is put to a permanent ceasefire, where society is the victor, and suicide is the defeated. Only then we may sit down in contentment.

That is my hope…it is your duty to carry this hope with you until all of us do, so that this no longer remains just my hope, but all of the souls of this beautiful world we can make. Turn this hope into a reality, so that when the war of society and mental health is discussed in future history classrooms, the teachers and students can say with a smile–a real smile–that “society won”.