- art by Liliya K, age 16

Their anger stood on my toe,
Their mind stood by,
They never let up,
But I stood my ground.

- by Sergey S., age 15

Farming is my life
Shovel in my hands
Rain and pain mixed
I wish I could go home

- by Julia Salyuk, age 15

all day working
tired of dehydration
bottle of water in the sun
blisters from the sledge hammer
starts to rain.

- by Vladimir Kolombet, age 17

Abundance of water
Known as the greenest state
Here is where I live

- by Yana Yukhimchuk, age 17

City lights brightly aglow
breathing in the heavy aroma of coffee
this is my home

- by Taya Khrupina, age 17

fresh green trees
rainy days
no winter

- by Vlad Kolombet, age 17

For today
I have to build a railroad
piece by piece
and hours of work
still so many left

- by Gennadiy Stepanenko, age 19




[Editor's note: The above poem comes from a high school Language Arts "Oregon History Through Literature" unit. After learning about the experience of Japanese immigrants and Japanese Americans in Oregon, starting in the late 1800s and spanning all the way through World War II, youth wrote poetry, taking on a fictional identity and describing life through the lens of a Japanese American person in Oregon.]

Zinza's Story

When I look at myself in the mirror
I see how my life story effects it.
I see the tears, the pain, the love.
The love I miss is the love of my life.
The love I am scared to lose.
I lost my family, I found love.
But he went to war to make this over.
I want peace, not blood.
I look at this heart he gave me
So that I never leave anyone.
I am waiting for him to get back.
And we will have our wedding.
We will move to a peaceful place
Where there is no war.
Only me and my love.
I lost my parents because of war.
But I will not lose my love.
I wait and read my book; it's drama.
So not true, but I believe that miracles happen.
I am Indian, so it's hard for me to see blood.
I am Zinza who is waiting for my love.
I miss my love.
I wait for him forever.
He is my love.
He and I will live in peace some day.
Sometime me and my love.

- by Lili Garkavets, age 15

[Editor's note: After reading poetry, fiction and non-fiction representing various groups who lived in or came to Oregon in the 1700s and 1800s, youth were asked to write a poem from the perspective of someone new or established in the region during that time. This is one of the poems.]

When you write my story

When you write my story
tell them about the leadership I had
about my land and how beautiful it was
about the people in my tribe
about the struggles in my life
about the peace and love I had for my people
tell them that my life wasn't easy
they should know that the land that we had was a blessing
tell them about the good things
when you write my story, don't forget to write it well

- by Victoria Kharitonenko, age 17

[Editor's note: After reading poetry, fiction and non-fiction representing various groups who lived in or came to Oregon in the 1700s and 1800s, youth were asked to write a poem from the perspective of someone new or established in the region during that time. This is one of the poems.]

Away from family

I'm from the place that has been through so much
I'm from a poor family
That fell apart
Parents work too hard
To keep their children alive
I walk on cracked roads
Hear soft whispers
Loud noises
As I slowly turn around
I still see the slow motion
People run from place to place
Mothers trying to save their kids
When father is working hard and
Getting just a tiny piece of bread
I walked a way
Heart is filled with tears
They brake out on my face
Slowly slide down
I've seen so much
I'm full for a lifetime
I'm from a world in which you won't survive.

- by Taya Kedrich, age 15

- art by Katie Eskova, age 17

Fighting over Land

-by Aleksandr Bakhmatov, age 15

Shovel in the enriched dark soil.
Courage of the explorer.
Intense heat on the human inhabitants of the world.