First Prize Poetry 2006:
Mel?
by Amelia, Russia/Illinois, Age 15

an onion dome of gold
defies the pale blue sky
and glitters like a Christmas card
the small Orthodox church, a time machine beckoning
to a place lost but remembered in dreams
a genetic gift
as tangible as eyes the color of the Baltic sea

American Idol is on
and i should be watching it
but instead i find myself
lighting a candle
and breathing in incense so pungent
it makes my nose bleed

instead i find myself
in the remnant of a world
that smells of boiled cabbage
and feels like velvet
because it is lent
even in New York
and my Russianness clings to me
like soot on a humid city morning

i would like to tell you that i feel out of place
surrounded by old women dressed in black
whose prayers sound like chickens cackling softly
my ears not attuned to a choir singing in Old Church Slavonic
a language nobody seems to understand

born Yemelia Nikolayevna
i am now Mel
just Mel
Mel who wears birthday-cake lipgloss and lavendar flip-flops
who takes hip-hop on Thursday night
and knows pizza is far superior
to paper-thin pancakes stuffed with fish eggs

but somehow the deep, gold smell of the incense
and the glow of fragile white candles
and the walls filled with sad, dark saints
tell me otherwise

for when the fates were weaving my future
they used a memory yarn
that keeps stretching back
to its original shape

Mel on life between cultures: The hardest part about being an immigrant or first-generation American is finding words to truly express the tightrope that is always there. I think translation is a myth. If you say the same word in three different languages, you are going to get three very different pictures in your mind. Language is tangled up in the colors and textures and smells of an entire culture. It is so much more than words in a dictionary. That is why, if you are in the position of being caught between two cultures, you have to find your own vocabulary and sets of images to describe your unique position in the world. Once you do that, it gets a little easier. I, also, think it is important to find a thread that links your two cultures and hold fast to it, so you don't end up feeling like you have a split personality. For me, that thread is ballet. It is my linking language. And after all, the best thing about being caught between cultures is having such a rich treasure chest brimming with words and experiences. They can be very powerful if you learn to tap into them and trust them.

Second Prize Poetry 2006:
"Soy De" means "I'm From"
by Pedro, El Salvador/Kansas, Age 15

"Soy de" means "I'm from."
Soy de climas calientes y playas azules.
I'm from sour limeade and chlorine-intoxicated water.
Soy de mangos maduros y pies descalsos.
I'm from melted crayons on a hot summer day and sweaty sandals.
Soy de risas fuertes y comida sabrosa.
I'm from 0.7 pencil lead and mix 93.3.
Soy de pupusas calientes y cases de carton.
I'm from clean shoes and healthy, noon lunches.
Soy de proverbios y lapiceros.
I'm from snow covered doorsteps and smoked honey ham.
Soy de quetes en la navidad y el 15 de septiembre.
I'm from comfy old cushions and snickering second cousins.
Soy de salsa y merengue y buenas notas.
I'm from six chairs at a table and a crowded backseat.
Soy de camas suaves y quartos compartidos.
I'm from Sesame street and dry chocolate doughnuts
Soy de "hola" y "hello" y "adios" y "goodbye."
I'm from PG 13 movies and Facebook wall posts.
Soy de Shakira y estorias infantiles.
I'm from "ready, set, hut" and expected pop quizzes.
Soy de "dia de ninos" y brazos fuertes.
I'm from swallowing anger and hiding back tears.
Soy de muertes dolorosas y tios con rencor.
I'm from paper-jammed printers and $15 Itunes cards.
Soy de campos y frentes con sudor.
I'm from Crest toothpaste and year-old Nike sneakers.
Soy de padres enamorados y embarazos a edad 15.
I'm from Mayah's goo-goo gah-gah's and Father's wise lectures.
Soy de agua helada y huevos de tortuga.
I'm from allergy attacks and noisy parakeets.
"Soy de dos mundos differentes" means "I'm from two different worlds."
"Dos mundos en uno" means "Two worlds in one."
"Soy de" means "I'm from."

Pedro on life between cultures: The hardest thing about balancing two cultures is having to adapt to two environments that are not that similar; dealing with responsibilities, habits, and customs, that most people here aren't used to. In my school, about 95% of the students that attend are white. The rest are about 7% hispanic and 3% black. The thing I like most about my parents being immigrants is that I get to visit El Salvador often, and I think the biggest benefit is having the opportunity to be bilingual.

Third Prize Poetry 2006:
Revolution
by Amy, China/New Jersey, Age 16

Eat your food, my mother said.
Even if you don't like it,
Or can't even keep it in your mouth, don't
Just waste it. There are people
In the world who would kill
For what you have on your plate.
When I was your age, I would have
For your dumplings and soy sauce --
Because when I was sixteen, I was living
In the countryside after Chairman Mao
Decided what equal was -- and all I had
To eat for seven months was corn.
The husks dried outside while we
Slept on straw pallets and in the morning
When we went to peel them apart, insects
Had already claimed the kernels.
So if you don't finish your dinner,
Even if it's just one bite,
One day someone may tell you where
You must go, without saying for how long;
And if, while you're gone, you have nothing
To eat but corn, you'll think of this last bite
And you won't be hungry anymore.