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NOT THE WORST DAY Sean P. Hotchkiss 1 2 3 Fig. 1 Funeral by Robert Hotchkiss Stop for a moment and look at the photograph before you proceed. Okay, that should be long enough. It is an overcast day, a gray day, but still light. There is a red and gray kilt-clad bagpiper standing on a field of grass in the bottom left corner with his back to us. His stance gives the impression he is playing. The grass is well groomed with hues of yellow and green mixed in. There is a blue canopy in the center of the photo, sheltering a closed silver-trimmed gray casket that lies upon what looks like a bronze-hued pedestal. The pedestal is actually the bottom of a grave box designed to protect it from water damage, but the casual observer would not know this. A couple lines of grave markers are set into the earth in the foreground that may not be immediately visible. There is an astroturf-covered mound behind the casket, presumably covering the dirt that has been displaced by the digging of the grave. Lying flat on the grass are several plywood panels. A large bouquet of beautiful red roses lies atop the casket and a green University of Oregon bucket with white and yellow roses sits beside it. Also nearby is a small vase of red and white flowers. In the background there are a mix of large evergreen and deciduous trees with a line of cars parked in front of them. The deciduous trees are leafless, adding to the starkness of the image. Two distinct groups of people stand in a rough semi-circle around and behind the canopy, with a few lone people standing apart. Most are wearing black, but there is a splash of pink, green, brown, or blue here and there. Everyone is wearing a mask to protect themselves and others from Covid-19. Upon closer inspection you see four people seated close to the casket with a space in between them. Two, a man and a young woman, are on one side, and two more, a young woman and a young man, are on the other. It appears that the people are either listening to the piper, lost in silent contemplation, gazing at the casket, or all three as no one seems to be speaking. Most appear to be looking in the same direction. What did you think of when you first saw the image? How did you feel? Did any memories or images from your past surface? Were there any imaginings of what the future may have in store for you or your family? Even without the casket being so prominent, it is easy to tell that the photograph has captured a funeral in progress. The somber gray sky, the grass, and the mix of evergreens and deciduous trees are classic signs that this photo was taken in the Pacific Northwest. The canopy, seeming out of place with its bright blue color, is unaware that it is pulling focus away from the other details in the picture. It is only there to fulfill its purpose of protecting what is underneath from potential rain. The lack of leaves on the trees tells us it must be winter. The University of Oregon bucket leads to the conclusion that at least one person in attendance is a Ducks fan and may narrow down where the photo was taken, Oregon. All the masked faces show that the funeral is taking place during the Covid-19 pandemic. Perhaps this death was another casualty of the virus. Seen are friends and family paying their last respects to a loved one. Presumably grieving would be a unifying catalyst, but cliquish groups, reminiscent of a poorly-themed high school dance, have formed. It’s unclear if these groups were formed because of a rift, a coincidence, or social distancing. While it is expected to see black formal wear at a funeral, reality leaks into this photograph contrasting what is seen in a movie or television show. If this were a staged ceremony, everyone would be in almost-matching black suits and dresses. The splashes of color or the blue jeans would be absent. This must be a real event—with people present having different stories. This must be a real event—someone is in the casket. This must be a real event—someone is in pain. The four seated people are likely to be the closest friends or family of the deceased. Who else would rate such an unwelcome honor? Who are they? Who did they lose? Who was this person being honored by this group willing to risk their health by gathering? How this photo affected you, if it did, might depend upon your own personal experiences. It may be easy to make some assumptions about aspects of this image based on where we live and what is currently going on in our lives right now. Perhaps your observations and conclusions were similar to what has been described so far. Perhaps they were different. Often, I think our reactions to and interpretations of photos are impacted by our level of separation from what is depicted. This photograph of a funeral could be interpreted differently by those who have or have not attended one. Differently still if the funeral was for someone you were close to. And even differently still if someone you love is very old or infirm. To what extent did your own memories and experiences shape what you saw and how you felt? Our interpretations might not reflect the reality of the photograph, or the timeline of events to the left and right of it. The truth behind the photograph is that it was taken by my brother at my wife’s funeral—freezing, forever in time, a single frame of the terrestrial end of a wonderful story. She passed away and was laid to rest in January of 2021 after bravely and tenaciously battling cancer for almost a year. The image was captured as the Piper played “Amazing Grace” to a grieving and tearful audience towards the end of the service. The four people seated under the canopy are me and our children. We had just finished honoring my wife with our words and stories of love and loss and hope. As I write this, it occurs to me that the closeness of the relationship each person had with my wife can be gauged by their distance from the casket. The two groups that formed are primarily segregated by my wife’s people, who we call the “Out-laws,” on the right, and “my people” on the left. We named them the Out-laws because they are the family of my wife’s brother-in-law, so not “in-laws” themselves; therefore, “Out-laws.” The man in the suit closest to the pavement is the minister and the other two lone mourners are friends of my kids. My wife and I had ended up staying closer to my people, so the distance between the groups may reflect that. My wife is a Ducks fan and the bucket was her constant gardening companion. To some, it may seem just as out of place as the blue canopy, but not to me. So now that you’ve read an interpretation of the photograph and have heard some of its story, how much have your thoughts and feelings changed? Are your perceptions and perspectives different now that we are at a different point in time? You may wonder, how could this not be someone’s worst day? This picture cannot convey the emotion I and the others attending are feeling; that can only be left to the imagination, informed by interpretation and context, of the viewer. For me, examining this photograph so closely has been deeply interesting, frequently tearful and painful, and hopefully a little healing. There are things that I noticed for the first time, some of it pointed out by others. Such as the unanticipated segregation of the crowd, the ashen sky, and how the artificial blue of the canopy seems unfit for the occasion. This photograph is of one of the worst days of my life, but what it does not show, can’t show, is that the day after was worse. The thirty years prior to the snapping of this photo had been spent getting to know, marrying, loving, and being loved by my wife. The year prior had been spent caring for her, helping her fight the cancer that would take her from me. The days prior were spent making preparations for her memorial and funeral. The day after, there was nothing more I could do, or needed to do for her—except tell her story. Sean P. Hotchkiss Sean P. Hotchkiss was born and raised in the Portland Metro area of Oregon. He is a proud father of three, grateful partner of one, and widower. He recently rediscovered his love of writing after returning to college after three gap-decades. Sean is in his last term towards earning an A.A.S. in Business Marketing at Portland Community College (PCC) with plans to pursue a Master’s degree in clinical mental health. In addition to his “day job” as a digital marketer, he is also a reading and writing tutor at PCC. He believes he does his best work where thought meets inspiration, and seeks out those things and people that stimulate both. You can engage with Sean on Instagram @sphotch_the_writer or on his website at https://www.sphotch.com .

Art ARTIST BIOGRAPHIES Wrapping Freedom Mehdi Gassi Oil on canvas 16 x 12 in cover on print edition* Growing Out of Bounds Dean Wilson Photograph A Tasty Thank You Shane Allison Décollage 14 x 11 in 5 Off Your Order Shane Allison Décollage 14 x 11 in Abandoned Homestead Dean Wilson Photograph Amanita Kelley Wezner Watercolor on paper 4.5 x 6 in Astoria at Blue Hour Dean Wilson Photograph Bok Choy Kelley Wezner Watercolor on paper 12 x 9 in Death and Life Bailey Moore Diptych in charcoal on paper 24 x 36 in Drawing of Jessie Ed Vassilenko Chalk pastels on paper 24 x 18 in Duality Ed Vassilenko Chalk pastels on paper 24 x 18 in El Alcatraz Jacky Sanchez Lozoya Linocut on bristol 17 x 14 in First Impression Mehdi Gassi Digitalized drawing Farm House Laila Sheikh Oil on canvas 36 x 29 in Ice and Rocks Dean Wilson Photograph Mad Scientist Kelley Wezner Watercolor on paper 4.5 x 6 in Misty Voyage Laila Sheikh Oil on canvas 36 x 29 in Orange is the Loneliest Color Xiomara Mueller Self Portrait of Self Discomfort Ed Vassilenko Mixed media on cardboard 24 x 18in Sentinel Kelley Wezner Watercolor on paper 4.5 x 6 in The Thinking Mehdi Gassi Screen print and gold leaf on paper 12 x 12 in Untitled Mehdi Gassi Oil on canvas 16 x 12 in

MASJID ROAD Shamik Banerjee Fishmongers’ cleaver knives don’t rest at all; Their heavy thuds outdo the termless spiels Of colporteurs dispensing large and small Versions of holy books. On mud-sunk wheels, Waxed apples, sapodillas, apricots Effuse their fragrance, trapping passersby Who check the rates, then stand submerged in thoughts— Some fill their punnets, some leave with a sigh. Outside the mosque, blind footpath dwellers wait To hear the clinking sound—the sound of true Relief—while dogs, flopped by the butcher’s gate, Get jumpy when he throws a hunk or two. Loudspeakers, placed on high, say “call to prayer” And all work halts; there’s silence in the air. Shamik Banerjee Shamik Banerjee is a formalist poet from Assam, India, where he resides with his parents. His poems have been published by The Society of Classical Poets, Sparks of Calliope, The Hypertexts, Snakeskin, Ekstasis, Ink Sweat & Tears , and Autumn Sky Daily , among others.

IN THE END David P. Sterner How will they live once they’ve all returned with tales of the dead and villages burned? Will they proudly speak of how bravely they fought or now live in shame and wish they had not? Will they think that a favor they’ve done for our world that on mothers and babes tons of bombs they have hurled? Or will they then see the evil in this deed they have done and fear that from God their souls will be shunned? How will they live once they’ve all returned with those shiny cold metals that so proudly, they’ve earned? David Sterner I was born in the small town of Grants Pass, Oregon. I have attended 22 different schools in Oregon, Montana, and Northern California—including PCC—which all exposed me to various cultures. My passions are art and science. I express my inner feelings by drawing, painting, sculpting, and writing. I study science to understand life and emotions, which I find very intriguing. Some of my achievements include winning blue ribbons for my artworks, being the lead singer of the Dave Everest Band, and receiving U.S. Patent #4,572,622 for a photographic lens. I have also authored a book titled DOR: The Missing Geometric Link . My hobbies include rock and fossil hunting, and I am proud to own the largest carnelian agate ever to be discovered in the Vernonia, Oregon region: it weighs a whopping 65 lbs.

BELLWETHER REVIEW Poetry Check out our prestigiously chosen works from the students of PCC. Here you'll find some of our beautifully written short stories Our Flash Non-Fiction pieces are sure to capture your attention. Our Spring Collection Fiction Nonfiction Art See our new pieces of photography and art that were phenomenally crafted. About Welcome Editors 2021 Contributors 2021 A Literary Magazine like no other. Cover Art by: Jessica Graber

LAND ACKNOWLEDGMENT We would like to acknowledge that the home of The Bellwether Review , Portland Community College’s Rock Creek campus, is located on the land of the Atfalati-Kalapuya tribes (also known as Tualatin Kalapuya), who were among the First People living in what we currently call Washington County. In 1855, the Atfalati tribes were forced to sign a treaty relinquishing ownership of their land . Today, the Kalapuya people are members of the Confederated Tribes of the Grande Ronde, located southwest of Washington County. We also want to acknowledge and thank the original stewards of the land throughout the area which PCC serves today, including the Molalla; the Multnomah, Kathlamet, and Clackamas bands of the Chinook; as well as the many other Tribes who have made their homes along the Columbia River. We, the editors, have chosen to include this land acknowledgment as an active commitment to supporting contemporary Indigenous sovereignty by promoting awareness and fostering dialogue as a contribution toward decolonizing the oppression which has resulted from systemic policies of colonization—including genocide, relocation, broken treaties, and assimilation. The Bellwether Review seeks to highlight the diversity of linguistic and artistic expression of student voices on the Rock Creek campus and throughout the PCC community; with this in mind, we want to acknowledge the absence of voices that might otherwise have been thriving today, if it were not for the practices of forced cultural assimilation that leads to the loss of fluency in local Indigenous languages. The last known fluent speaker of Tualatin Northern Kalapuya, Louis Kenoyer ( baxawádas ), died in 1937. Kenoyer’s memoir, My Life: Reminiscences of a Grande Ronde Reservation Childhood , translated into English from Tualatin Northern Kalapuya, is available at the PCC Rock Creek Library. We encourage readers of The Bellwether Review to honor the journal’s connection to the history of the land upon which it is produced by supporting and promoting organizations that are working to cultivate and honor contemporary Indigenous cultures in a variety of ways, such as PCC’s Native Nations Club , Confederated Tribes of Grand Ronde , Confederated Tribes of Siletz Indians , The NAYA Family Center , Salmon Nation , and the First Nations’ Native Language Immersion Initiative . Learn more about the Kalapuya people by exploring Kalapuyan Tribal History , Pacific University’s Indigenous History of Oregon , and the Five Oaks Museum’s online exhibition, This IS Kalapuyan Land . The Bellwether Review editorial team would like to thank PCC Native Nations Club Coordinator Karry Kelley (Yahooskin/Modoc) and Dr. Blake Hausman (Cherokee Nation), PCC faculty in English and Native American Studies, for advising us on crafting this acknowledgment.

The Bellwether Review A Student-Led Literary and Arts Journal Spring 2023 art poetry fiction Nonfiction Thank you for visiting our website. The Bellwether Review is a literary journal that hopes to promote and inspire creativity amongst those not only at PCC Rock Creek, but throughout the community. We hope you take the time to review these great pieces that were sent in to us and selected for publication by our editorial team. Visit our Submissions page if you are interested in having your work considered for publication. Email us at bellwetherreview@gmail.com with any questions. Letter from the Editors Dear Reader, This edition of The Bellwether Review is special in two ways from previous editions. It is the first print edition to be published after the Covid-19 restrictions were lifted, and will be the first edition to be published alongside its online companion at bellwetherreview.com . Our editing team is honored and privileged to have witnessed the amazing levels of beauty, creativity, bravery, thought, and emotion infused by the Contributors into all of their submissions. Each piece was reviewed, discussed, and carefully selected by us with you, and a profound respect for the act of artistic creation, in mind. The Bellwether Review is created by the students of Portland Community College for the purpose of being enjoyed by all it can reach, and the editorial team would like to thank you for exploring and enjoying the contributions of our fellow students contained within these pages. With gratitude, The 2023 Editorial Team MEET THE 2023 EDITORS Copyright © 2023 Portland Community College Portland Community College reserves all rights to the material contained herein for the contributors’ protection. On publication, all rights revert to the respective authors and artists.

Fiction The Fool Gigi Giangiobbe-Rodriguez The Red's Death Matt Smith

MEET THE EDITORS A high-adrenaline enthusiast with an endless supply of energy, Claire Batchelder has been writing for as long as she can remember, and these days she writes a solid mix of poetry and fiction. She has been rock climbing for eight years and scuba diving for five, and her inspiration draws heavily from the natural world she’s encountered—and the disturbing changes she’s witnessed. Claire has submitted an assortment of poems and a piece of nonfiction for publication in several journals, and she’s currently revising a fiction story. When she’s not writing or adventuring in the outdoors, she’s cuddling with her husky, Artemis. Jonathan Bennett is a 21-year-old writer from Oregon currently attending Portland Community College. Jonathan works as both a Poetry and Fiction editor for this journal. They have been writing on and off since their junior year at Mountainside High School, taking a gap year to find another but ultimately going back to writing. They plan on transferring to Portland State University for a Creative Writing degree, and they hope to someday write lore for a good indie game. They mainly want to pursue fiction writing, but that’s currently taken a backseat to their newly found passion for poetry. Outside of writing, they enjoy hiking, listening to Midwest emo music, playing games a bit too competitively, and hanging out with their amazing partner. “O Time thy pyramids.” —Jorge Luis Borges Hunter Bordwell-Gray is a lifelong Portland resident and half-a-lifelong writer. What was first a dead set passion on becoming a novelist in the third grade has since warped and evolved into a much broader love of writing. His inspirations draw from a roulette wheel of nature, analog horror podcasts, and music to create . . . whatever the intersection of those three things creates. Mostly poetry, but who knows what it may be tomorrow! Quinn Brown is a trans and indigenous Portland writer and poet. Since writing from a very young age, Quinn found herself pursuing a passion for writing in all different forms, from varying genres of fiction to poetry. Her key inspirations for most of her writing comes from a place exploring identity, culture, and where those ideas overlap. Sean P. Hotchkiss is one of the Typesetting Editors, as well as our Art Editor and Web Editor. Proud father of three, grateful partner of one, and widower. Sean is in his last term towards earning an A.A.S. Business: Marketing degree at Portland Community College (PCC) with plans to pursue a Masters degree in clinical mental health. He rediscovered his love of writing after returning to college after three gap-decades. In addition to owning a small marketing support firm, he is a reading and writing tutor at the PCC Sylvania Campus. In addition to being a second time contributing editor and author in The Bellwether Review, Sean was also a presenting author at the 2023 PCC Groundswell: a Conference of Student Writing. “I am the puppet master! You’re a puppet in a play, and I hold all the strings! And cards, still got the cards. I’ve got the cards in one hand, and the strings in the other hand, and I’m making you dance around, like a puppet, playing cards.” —Wheatley, Portal 2 . Who’s that fine lookin’ fellow with the sexy hair, the one whose opinions on style choices were like black sheep? Why, that’s Adam Idris , baby! His very first year of college and he’s already dabbling in the art of publications, maybe he’s hoping to get his own stories published. What kinda stories, you may ask? Just your typical fiction, filled to the brim with laughs, action, witty one-liners and loveable characters. What a guy, am I right? “Butterflies can’t see their wings. They can’t see how truly beautiful they are, but everyone else can.” —Naya Rivera Bo Leo , one of our Typesetting Editors and Proofing Editors, is an aspiring author who resides in the Pacific Northwest. Their deep appreciation for animals and nature is evident in their writing, which typically focuses on themes of identity and trauma. When they’re away from their desk, you can find them reading, painting, daydreaming, spending time with their pets, or enraptured by the music of one Alessia Cara. Megan McGrory is an avid consumer of media who’s lived in Washington, Alaska, and finally Oregon. She has been writing since before she could technically write, getting her mother to write down her stories for her. Her greatest passion is prose, particularly fantasy and science fiction. Aside from writing, Megan loves to read, watch movies and tv, perform on stage, and analyze media through a feminist lens. One of her greatest passions is napping with her cat, Spooky. You can always edit a bad page. You can’t edit a blank page.” —Jodi Picoult Randall Camden Stemple is a PCC student who enjoys spending most of his free time reading, writing, and watching whatever slop YouTube recommends. This of course, in-between bouts of struggling to format his dialogue and working as the Correspondence Editor. If at any point you received an email from The Bellwether Review , it was most likely from him, and if you at any point noticed the inconsistent manner in which he formatted each email, please keep it to yourself.

MISSION STATEMENT The Bellwether Review is Portland Community College Rock Creek’s literary magazine. Our mission is to showcase the original writing and art from both students and artistically inclined folks from the greater community. We aim to publish diverse bodies of work from a variety of voices. All submissions go through a fair and democratic process, which ensures the highest quality of work is selected. The Bellwether Review commemorates the hard work and dedication of all those involved in its creation.