Central Piedmont Archives: Projects

What is it to be a classmate? 

It means to be part of a community 

A community of diversity 

Students of different backgrounds and descent 

Coming together as one 

It is comradery and compassion

The smiles from ear to ear when you gather together Classmates are company 

Company you can study with books in lap What is it to be a classmate? 

It is learning together 

Growing side by side 

Being a classmate is being a friend 

A friend you wish to capture every moment with

As I put on my headphones 

Attempting to learn 

I realize this is why my parents fought 

As our nation almost burned. 

For me to receive an education  

And be able to take advantage of luxuries 

who would’ve thought I’d be learning from a wooden box My mother says we can’t afford one 

We barely have enough pots. 

But my family struggles are why I’m here 

Stressing over education  

Just to receive a letter. 

Anything below a B won’t do for me. 

I’m hoping my dedication and this television  Will bring what’s next to me. 

What if this is how they learn 50 years from now? Wouldn’t that be a sight. 

I hope those students don’t take it for granted Because this is alright.

It was cold and dark. Save for the bright camera flashes, Queen Yvonne could not see  past her outstretched palm. She looked up at Donald, who was at least a foot taller than her, his  silver crown shining in the light. Goosebumps traveled all over her bare arms. Her hands were  filled with small septum and the decorated bouquet of flowers, but she ached to put them down.  The leaves pricked her through her white gloves and the septum threatened numerous times to  slip out of her hands. Yvonne even started to feel the weight of her dress. The only thing that rested calmly was her crown.  

“Ok, big smiles both of you!” The photographer’s voice boomed to get their attention. 

“I want to go back inside," Donald muttered. So did Yvonne. She could hear the soft  vibrations of music coming from the building. They had spent all day at the festival- greeting,  laughing, and hosting. This year, they even hosted a little parade which was really just the King  and Queen being paraded around on a small float. Of course, the festival had to be on what felt  like the hottest day of May. Yvonne almost stayed inside for the entire time just to get some cool  air, not to mention the bees and insects coming out of their hibernation and wreaking havoc.  Yvonne ended up keeping her cloth fan and bug spray on her during the entire festival. As  spacious as the festival was, the air still reeked of sweat, smoke, and food. Though as the day  darkened, the temperature dropped, and everyone went home to prepare for the celebration later  that night. The vendors dwindled out, the cooks dumped and cooked more food, and a new set of decorations went up. Yvonne’s stomach grumbled and she thought about all the food sitting on  the table inside. She heard Donald snicker. 

“Are you hungry too?” he asked. 

“Yes,” she answered, “I have not eaten since earlier today at the festival.” 

“Just one more!” the photographer promised. Finally, after what Yvonne counted as five  more flashes did the photographer free them. Donald helped Yvonne up the steps and, when they opened the door, were greeted by the bouncing music and the thunderous sound of people. They  headed straight for the food table, filling their plates with chicken, rice and vegetables. As King and Queen of the May Day, they were granted their own table where they sat and watched everyone enjoy themselves. After they finished their food, Yvonne and Donald joined everyone else on the dance floor for the rest of the night. 

Weeks later, when the picture came out, Yvonne sat down in her living room to look at it. She smiled at the smirk on Donald’s face and at her heavy dress. She looked at the tall plant  perched on the dirty steps behind them. Yvonne had also never realized how taller Donald was than her until she saw their shadows on the brick wall, right under the big, block, letters of  “Mecklenburg College”. Donald’s shadow was a litter bit taller than him, and his crown oddly  reminded her loosely of the Tahj Mahal while her shadow blended into his. It was a day she  would never forget.

Living End 

“Biology is the beginning and the living end.” 

That was what the sign on the door read 

While I waited for class to begin. 

And it made me think about life and death, 

And every sticky sweet thing in between, 

Like jelly donuts, the stuff of life all bleeding out 

Until we cannot breathe. 

And that one part - “living end.” 

I suppose there’s something to be said 

For the waste that inevitably comes for us all 

After death. Our skin caves in, 

And the organisms in the business of decomposition 

Have a field day in what was once us. 

I think of crows nosing around a ruby red meal 

Of once-upon-a-time-ago opossum or squirrel. 

I think of maggots crawling out of wounds festering and dead. Even after our untimely ends, 

We become playgrounds for the living. 

But I suppose that’s what they mean 

By biology, and life and death.

The wind was blowing through my hair during my race, I felt like I was on top of the world, 

Everyone was watching and I felt like I found my place. Until something went wrong and everything went into a whirl. 

I wake up in the hospital in shock, 

My whole body is in pain, 

The fact that I lost my race is something I try to block. The days I wasn’t on my bike made me feel like I was going insane. 

For months I wasn’t able to ride, 

But that didn’t stop me from dreaming, 

I knew I had to push my fears aside. 

I knew that this journey would take a lot of believing. 

Going back on my bike felt like home, 

I was ready to go out into the unknown.

In the year of nineteen seventy nine

A teacher stood before the room and taught

When he teaches bio his eyes doth shine 

And with his laughter boredom there was naught

The classroom was full, the students prepared

Everywhere around them sat brains and bones

Gathered together excitement they shared

To learn about muscles and cells and clones

They read from their textbooks and learned many things

The whole semester through very hard they worked

The information to their brains now clings 

Because through it all not one of them shirked

Students rejoiced and the teacher was glad

For in their future great things to be had

Is this day almost over, please  

It feels like eternity  

Stuck in the place  

That fills me with unease  

Feeling this way internally  

 Camera! Camera!  

Smile before it sees  

Put on a show externally  

I smile bright full of grace  

While wanting to fall on my knees  

I outsmart the camera artfully  

 Camera! Camera!  

The click of the camera won’t appease  

My despair; at least I still have my sanity  

Outwardly my handsome face  

Responding to the camera, cheese!  

I can’t believe this is my reality  

 Camera! Camera!

Alien 

Smoke and mirrors. 

No smoking here. 

Lies upon lies until I’m on my own; 

Lie upon lies that have gone deeper than bone. 

A group of friends that no longer last, 

The illusion of togetherness that hangs in my past. 

My trust and love have broke; 

All alone with my cloud of smoke. 

Laidback with nothing but my cigarette 

Watching those walk by carrying a face of regret. 

This planet of complete isolation 

Has only caused the same complete frustration. 

An alien with culture, 

Ideas of my future 

That don’t contain this suffocating solitude 

I will survive if I just keep the right attitude.

School by Liliana Bragg 

The day starts early in the morning, even before the sun wakes up. 

They scramble around the kitchen to make lunch, hoping and praying they don’t miss the bus this time. 

Hundreds of kids flock towards the front door, eagerly awaiting their first assignment. 

All their coats are hung on coat racks, and bookbags behind their seats. 

The teacher speaks as if she is preaching the bible, and all the kids listen intently. 

All you can hear are the sounds of chalk on the board, and pencils scribbling on the paper. 

Finally, the bell has screamed for the last time. The kids leave with a bittersweet feeling in their stomach. Upset because they have to leave, and excited to get to do it all over again tomorrow.

Proud, Today.

Did you know, brother?  

That there is no other  

you have not made  

proud today.  

And as I take your  

hand in mine,  

and divine, define, your success  

I want you to  

keep in mind that there is no other  

you have not made  

proud today. 

And as you continue to be  

you, I will continue to see  

you. I will smile, and grin and laugh  

and you will continue to have  

the thought, the pleasure of  

knowing that you have made us  

proud today. 

- m.d.b 

The big green field where everyone goes 

“Fore!” the word echoes  

Coming together in 76’ 

Outside while the sun is gleaming 

We run toward the shade, heavy breathing 

The stripes on her white shirt 

The shorts on his legs 

The sweat drips down our bodies like cracked eggs 

Frisbees flying through the air 

Shirts coming off 

We lay out a tablecloth 

This might become a core memory for some 

But I’ll always think of it to be as sweet as a plum

Run 

And here we go. It's just another day at school. Just another day at CPCC. Come on Jackson just focus on school. 

Jackson tried to get the intrusive thoughts of the night prior out of his head. As he walked to  Central High he tried concentrating on the fact that he had a biology exam that day. He wasn't  too worried about it because he had gotten some studying done earlier in the week. Although he  would have preferred to have gotten in a couple more hours of review yesterday instead of the  nightmare of a night he had. Shouldn't have run away.  

Before Jackson knew it he was walking into his classroom and sitting in his chair. He didn't even remember walking into the building, that's how lost he is in his own mind. The events of last  night just keep replaying over and over again in his mind. He didn’t mean to run away. He didn’t know what to do. He couldn't comprehend what was happening and he never thought anything  like that would ever happen to him. Last night he -  

“ Alright class today we will be finishing the last half of the presentations. Those of you who  have already presented, I expect the same respect your peers gave you last week during your own presentations. Now who would like to go first?” 

Professor Castillo made his announcement and then immediately sat down behind his computer  and pulled out a long legal pad. The first student got up and shuffled to the front of the  classroom. She cleared her throat and started to give her oral presentation on - this is all your  fault. You should have done something different. You're pathetic. You ran?? Who runs away  from that? A coward does. A coward who only thinks about himself.  

Jackson cringed as his thoughts flooded his mind. Not even 3 minutes into class and his mind is  now overflowing. There was no way he was going to make it through the day.  He finally had his life on track. He was finishing out his associates degree this year and he was  already on his way to a 4 year college in Boston. He worked hard to make sure that none of his  classes were below a B. He wanted out of Charlotte. He wanted to be free. But after last night he  might never be free again. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. This could have been dealt with if you didn’t  run. Now you have to go back. That’s even worse.  

Shouldn’t have run away.  

I have to go back. Dread filled every crevice of Jackson’s body. He knew what had to be done  but he couldn’t bring himself to think about it too much. If he did he would run away just like  last night. Jackson kept thinking about his future. He was so close to getting everything he  wanted. He was on his path and then everything changed in a single night. Because of a single 

person. He just wanted to go on a walk. A simple stroll in the cool October air. He didn't even  need to bring his flashlight because the moon was so bright outside. He zipped up his hoodie and headed out the door. He walked along the path of the main road and stared up at the stars. He  was glad that he lived far enough in from the city that he could still see the stars. Soon in Boston  he wouldn't be able to see them as much so he decided to try and see them as much as he could  now. Then all of a sudden around the bend there were flashing lights - 

“ Alright guys. That’s the last one. I should have your grades updated by the end of the week.  See you next week. We will be starting Unit 3 so feel free to read ahead in your text to  familiarize yourselves. Have a great weekend.” Said Professor Castillo, barely looking up from  his legal pad.  

The class took their time getting out of their seats but Jackson was the first one out the door. He  had a plan. He had a plan and he was going to see it through before he second guessed himself.  He dashed across the street to get to the building where his biology class was. Luckily his two  classes were back to back so he wouldn't have to wait long for class to start. He impatiently  tapped his pencil on his leg as he thought about his plan.  

Jackson raced through his exam the second he received it. He went through it so quickly he didn't have time to second guess any of his answer choices. He turned it into the TA and ran out the  door. Jackson timed it perfectly. Just as he ran out the door of the building the bus was pulling up the stop. He dashed inside and slumped into a seat at the very back. He held his backpack in his  lap and hugged it tightly. He buried his head into his bag and just let his thoughts race. At this  point it was more work to try to keep them at bay.  

Shouldn't have run away.  

Flashing lights blinded Jackson last night suddenly. He didn't have time to think before he heard  a loud screech and the sound of metal crunching. Dust filled the air and Jackson had to cover his  eyes to protect them. He could feel his heartbeat throughout his entire body. The dust settled and  he looked up. Right in front of him was an old Subaru completely wrapped around an old burnt  

out light post. Jacksons mom had written many letters to the city to get the light fixed but no one  had come out. No one uses this road so they probably didn't see the need. Jackson hesitantly walked around the car. He looked into the driver's seat and immediately  turned away and fought the urge to hurl his dinner. This is your fault. She swerved trying not to  hit you. You should have had a flashlight. She's dead trying to save you. She’s dead. She’s dead.  She’s dead.  

Thoughts invaded Jackson's mind as he started hyperventilating. He wanted to throw up. He  wanted to go back in time. He wanted to stay inside and study. He wanted to never have left his  house that night.  

Then he heard it. A baby wailing. A baby crying at the top of their little lungs. A baby crying for  their mommy.  

Horror struck Jackson's face. He could feel tears dripping down face. And before he knew it, he  was running. 

Shouldn't have run away.

1981 The Big Game 

The bus ride to the field radiates energy 

Players laugh, sing, and take pictures 

Coach does one of his famous pre-game speeches 

Everyone runs off to get in last minute practice 

Hours pass like minutes 

Family and friends start to fill the bleachers 

Teams are greeted with cheers as the game begins 

They’ve been practicing weeks for this one 

The first homerun is hit 

Screams of pride and opposing frustration echo into the sky 

Player #12 sprints as fast as their feet can go 

Slide 

and the toe touches just in time. 

Safe! 

The game inches forward 

Tensions rise as the last inning rears its head 

And... 

CPCC wins!

Not Fully Prepared  By Naomi Benson 

What a ways to draw everyone’s gaze 

Funnily enough this was not a dare. 

This was not a prank manifesting in my mind, 

This was a complete accident by design. 

I simply do not have a care 

For the little things that weigh a ton, 

Like tying shoes, cleaning the dishes, and getting the laundry done. I do think that I have gotten mighty far 

Living in this single pair of underwear, 

And coasting in last year’s costume anywhere. 

Which brings me to here, where I become aware 

That despite my dedication to avoid the laundry 

My deadlines of assignments cannot wait for me, 

For me to be fully prepared. 

Thus, I am here… 

Where everyone cannot help but stare.

Alien  

Am  

I  

an alien 

because of the way I hold my cigarette  so that the ash falls into a pattern on my skin  and leaves scars of my own design?  

Am  

I 

an alien 

because I am unwelcome on this planet  as my Zippo is 

by the gasoline pump?  

Am  

I  

an alien  

because my hair that bounces with more volume than the pack of marlboros that becomes emptier  every time 

 I wish 

I was 

 a fire breathing dragon 

who could smite all of the princes  

and add color to the girls  

with pretty blonde hair?  

Am I an alien? 

on that stage they sung 

a great ballad 

to the people 

where their hearts 

they poured out 

with great passion 

they danced 

and they shouted 

those great tunes 

glorious color behind them 

on their backs 

and on their faces 

sang their songs they did 

as they jumped on the stage 

with their persons styled in great fashion

“Being a Figure Drawing Model.” 

Being drawn is freaky,

All eyes are spooky. 

People are staring at me, 

As if I'm totally naked. 

It sent a chill down to my spine, And made my stomach ached. 

These clothes are just optional, Not one of the objectives. 

To capture a proper perspective, The model has to be still. 

To pose for a certain period of time, And to maintain their demeanor. 

This requires experience, 

as much as the ardor. 

3 men conversing 

Three men conversing having fun 

They are all dressed well 

Their is also a lady in the back with her hair in a bun 

I can assume that they also have a pleasant smell 

Two of the men are wearing black 

Two of the men are wearing white 

There are a lot of people in the back 

There is a man riding a bike 

Two of the men are holding hands 

One of the men has glasses on 

There is a lady in the back with an instrument case she must be in a band They all seem to have a great bond 

Three men conversing they must happy

Archival Revival Reflections – Spring 2021

In doing the Archival Revival project, I learned that the history of Central Piedmont Community College and its impact on the community goes back much farther than I thought. Looking at the pictures and trying to pick one to write about made me realize the rich history of my school. It also gave me the sense that I was participating in something much larger than myself. My poem will be archived with many other pieces for years to come. To participate in forging that connection between the past, the present, and the future of Central Piedmont is humbling. And of course, I really like the poem I wrote for the project and think it’s great. – Emiliann Williams

In doing the Archival Revival project, I was able to learn more about turning visual artwork into literary artwork. I was also able to connect more to the history of this school, and to see things I had never seen before. In doing this, I could take a simple photograph and turn it into a poem that expanded on the image’s subject. This led me to view the picture in a different way and it really brought it to life. – Hannah Ward

The Archival Project was hard for me at first. I was not sure what to do because I was not very familiar with the idea. Also, the assignment that I did was something I don’t remember overdoing before. For my Archival project, I picked a random picture and wrote a poem about it, telling a story. My picture was an old photo of people dirt bike racing. In my poem, I write about a dirt bike racer who had a bad accident and is on the road to recovery in order to go back to racing. I feel that this assignment gave me more of an imagination. It taught me how to take simple things and turn it into something elaborate and entertaining. From one photo I was able to make up a story for another person to read. – Gelilla Sisay

What I learned from the archival project is that I need to get more creative with where I get my inspiration from. I knew that the photo I chose had stories within it from the moment Isa it, and yet I never would have written the poem that I did if I hadn’t seen that poem. It’s virtually impossible to write a story that is unique, but the way it’s told is what makes it unique. I need to remember that I have a perspective that no one else in the world can, so I need to be more bold with my writing, which means that I need to be more bold in general. In order to write real stories, I have to live a real life. I also learned that photography as an art form, without Instagram captions and filters and touch-ups, is absolutely beautiful and a great way to tell another part of the story that only images can, rather than words – Lauren Miller

In completing the Archival Revival Project, I learned that if you want to find more to a photo or picture, you certainly can. It just takes a different mindset to get into that “zone.“ Personally, I loved seeing that picture from a different perspective. I thought that it was fun to write about something from a different viewpoint. – Kathryn Duncan

In the Archival Revival project, I learned that art can be inspired by anything – and that it really depends on perspective and interpretation. The way that I interpreted my image is much different than how other people would have interpreted it, and I think that perspective is such an important topic to remember (and consider) when critiquing art. I also thought it was really fun to read previous students’ pieces. Seeing how they jumped off of the picture they got versus how I would have potentially done it was. – Anushka Chalmeti 

When doing the archival assignment I learned quite a few things; however, one lesson stood out more than the rest. That lesson was one of individuality. When looking through the pictures available for the assignment I realized something. There are a million different ways to interpret a picture. Each person is bound to interpret them in a different way. Even if it is the smallest details, no two people have the exact same vision in mind. This honestly made the archival assignment a challenge for me. It was difficult to place meaning to a picture that had no given story behind it. Looking at a picture and describing what was being felt, heard, said, or seen is practically impossible if you weren’t there. That is what made this assignment all the more exciting. – Avery Brown

The Archival Revival project was easier than I anticipated. While I probably failed in creating an image with the provided photo, I think I managed well with conveying the feeling that I felt aligned with the image itself. I tried to convey the emotion I was getting from the photo and put it into words. – Makayla Brooks

The Archival Revival Assignment was interesting to me because I got to see so many different images that had much more significance in the time they were taken. The picture I had used was of a woman who had been smoking a cigarette under a no smoking sign and someone had drawn antennas on her and written “alien” next to her. I decided to write a poem in response to that picture. Something that I learned in doing that assignment was how connected the different arts of writing and photography are. Looking at all those pictures, I realized that picture really does say 1000 words and I got to pick the ones that stood out to me the most. – Richelle Calphen

The Archival Revival project was most fun! I was not sure at first what to expect for this assignment, however, I liked how I went about completing this assignment. What I love most of this assignment is how versatile it can be. One can take a more serious approach, or like me, comedic one. It was interesting to go back and review all the photos that CP has from over the years. I was shocked at how old some of the photos were! But I settled on a photo that was rather unique. I picked a photo of a student in a banana costume checking out a book in the library. When I read the description and saw the image, I was confident that there was an excellent story waiting to be told. Furthermore, I decided to tell the tale of a student who failed to do their laundry and settled on wearing a banana costume to school instead! Surprisingly, I did this through poetry. It reminded me of the poetry I read when I was little, like Carl Sandburg, orthose stories that have strong rhythm and rhyme, like Dr. Suess. – Naomi Benson

What I learned while completing the Archival Revival assignment was that you can truly create a story out of something as simple as a picture. I chose a picture of four students learning in school in the 1990’s. I chose to write a poem about how the students looked eager to learn and that it was a privilege to be educated. – Lilliana Bragg

Doing the Archival Revival project, I learned how think past what I’m seeing. At first, I wanted to make a story out of the photograph, but I was struggling to think of something interesting enough. Eventually I landed on making it a poem. I didn’t want to go elaborate for my poem, because like a picture, I wanted it to be up to interpretation from the reader. I presented a simple idea of a baseball game. It’s up my audience whether they’re thinking about parents cheering for their 18-year-old as they play their first college game, on the track to be famous player, or a man in his 50s going back to school and playing as a fun hobby. – Montanna Britton