CREATIVE WRITING
Storytelling is a key component in all artistic forms. Every dance, every piece of visual art, every play, every film, every musical composition attempts to convey a story, a sense of emotion, a narrative quality that evokes a reaction in the audience. The writers at ArTES believe in the power and importance of storytelling. These students understand that words are transformative — whether spoken, written, read, or performed. Authentic self-expression is fundamental to the human experience. Our words and our voices combined shape our reality.
Creative Writing is a growing part of the ArTES artistic culture. We encourage our writers to explore a variety of genres: poetry, long fiction, short fiction, screenwriting, creative essays, and poetry. Whether in a formal classroom setting or in an afterschool club, the community of ArTES writers continues to grow and evolve.
One of the highlights of the ArTES Creative Writing program is putting together a team of poets for the annual Get Lit Poetry Slam. Get Lit is an organization
dedicated to bringing the power of poetic expression to high school students in Los Angeles. The program aims to empower youth by giving them the skills they need to express themselves through poetry and performance. Get Lit’s citywide Classic Slam celebrates the best of youth poetry from all over the city and ArTES proudly sends a group of promising young poets to compete. ArTES poets have been asked to participate in the finals of the Get Lit Slam and are also participating in the annual Poetry Summer Camp in hopes of competing to become on of the Get Lit Players, who have appeared on the Queen Latifah Show and opened for John Legend at the Hollywood Bowl.
If you are interested in becoming a part of this community, please see Ms. Conant in Room 317.
STUDENT WORK
I believe in the idea of self-respect. Self-respect is a very hard thing to obtain. Society has put out a pressure on teens to be a specific somebody and to look a certain way. Often these expectations lead teenagers to depression because they are insecure of
and decide to harm themselves or even attempt suicide.
In the seventh grade I was in a ride of terror. During math class one day there was this boy who called me a negra, which means black girl in Spanish. At first I didn’t mind
what he was calling me, but once his friends were involved, I felt disconnected from myself and hated my dark skin and curly hair. These sequence of events that happened left me hating myself and thinking thoughts of harming myself. I never was happy nor pleased with the curly hair I have and when those boys pointed that out they really triggered me.
During lunch one day a close friend of mine was talking to me and told me that she was clinically depressed and felt empty and wanted to commit suicide. The minute those few words fell out of her mouth, I knew I couldn’t bear to see a person as wonderful as her leave. She had described to me how she would harm herself and how she had attempted suicide because she felt insecure.
When lunch was over, on my way over to math class I couldn’t help but think “Is that who I want to be? Do I seriously want to go in a place so low in my life because some stupid boys are picking on me?”
The answer was no.
I decided to not stay quiet and be determined. I decided to be proud of the person I was and embrace it. When I sat down in the seat in front of the boys who had picked on me, I was hit with anxiety and nervousness, but as soon as they called me a negra a wave of confidence came over me. I turned and told them that I am sure of who I was and if they had a problem with it, then they should carry on with their lives and not worry about me.
They never bothered me again.
Standing up for myself was a very big deal for me that year because I learned to be proud of who I was and I got rid of a heavy weight that was bringing me down.
I believe in self-respect.
– Arteaga, Gabriela
You can’t seem to stop asking if I love you
And if so how much,
But you can’t seem to understand that my love for you cannot be measured in numbers or trips to the moon and back.
You don’t seem to understand
That if I had the chance to play your rib cage like the keys of a piano,
I’d still choose to feel your heart playing at the rapid beat of us
I’d still choose to hear your heart double peddling and meddling with mine. I’d still choose to feel you trembling in angst and thrill after brilliantly illustrating how Van Gogh cut a part of his earlobe off as I gently nibble on yours.
You don’t seem to understand that you are the world and the beauty and everything that’s worth wondering about!
You can’t wrap your mind around the fact that you are all the art.
You are my favorite song
My favorite taste, feeling, dance, style, book, words.
You’re my favorite painting
You’re my Van Gogh, my starry night.
My comfort and confidence, my pain and love
My incomprehensible abstract orchid.
You are the seed and the water, the soil and the sun.
You are the transcending roots of my love for gardens and galleries.
You are the uprising flower to my flourishing-awaiting buzzing bee bliss. You are the flower whose pollen I crave.
You are my incomprehensible abstract orchid.
And if blind I were, the most beautiful master piece you’d still be.
Looks matter not, that I know you understand,
But my undying endeavor to faintly frolic in the flowery sent of your hair- you might not.
You are my incomprehensible abstract orchid.
And you may never understand my need to cause you stampeding waves of butterflies.
You may never understand my fear of loving you madly.
Because you are my carefully strung together, delicately oblivious orchid; You are my hopes of rekindling what once was
Because, what we had, will never be again.
– Erik Guerrero
The Los Angeles Unified School District and ArTES are committed to providing a working and learning environment free from discrimination, harassment, intimidation, and bullying. For more information regarding nondiscrimination, 
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