Writing
Mine
Poem
Today is the day that everything changes.
Today is the final remembrance of now, of everything I cherish,
and the first overbearing chance at forever,
with or without his presence.
Today is not the end, but it is certainly no beginning.
Today could either lead me to breathtaking bliss,
or destroy my light and plunge me into the abyss.
Today the sun will no longer shine,
but I hold on to the hope that someday,
he will again be mine.
Yesterday he told me he was leaving.
Yesterday we talked for hours
and he whispered sweet lullabies in my ears
to which I was believing.
Yesterday I told him to go and follow his dreams,
but he said that his dreams would always hold a place for me.
Yesterday I cried because the peace I once knew
was now nothing I could pursue, just something to hold on to.
Yesterday was the last time
I got to call him mine.
Tomorrow everything is different.
Tomorrow I wish that we could go back to yesterday,
because it is impossible to grieve
when I conceive of no relief.
Tomorrow is the first of a lifetime of change,
people moving away, others wanting to stay—
but nothing ever remains the same.
Tomorrow I wait until you come home again,
because whether it’s three months or five years,
you will always be mine.
Yeliz's Quest for Wisdom
Coded Twine Game
Please click on this link and download the file to play the game.
This research and narrative-based CYOA game was inspired by The Met's exhibition on Iran and Central Asia in the Mongol Ages from the 13-16th C. The exhibit featured a collection of Persian fables told through text and drawings, as well as traditional, elaborately decorated armor from the period, from which the idea for this game was born.
Here are some images of the development process, showing how the game was built in Twine.
Libertad
Poem in Spanish
Por las aguas calientes, por los desiertos en sequía,
Por aquellos que le falta recursos para la vida.
Por víctimas de la guerra, por ellos que nunca ayuda tenía,
Por los que tienen que vivir el día a día.
Yo te deseo, Libertad.
Por el amor que se ha perdido, por las flores que nadie recibe,
Por aquellos que no pueden estar con quienes aman.
Por los gritos que nadie escucha, por las risas que nadie comparte,
Por los que no tienen a nadie con quienes se abrazan.
Yo te deseo, Libertad.
You Go in Waves
Short Story
Please click on this link to read my short story!
I attached it as a Google Doc because it is a bit of a longer piece. I wrote it over the course of a few months as part of a creative writing workshop. This piece went through two rounds of workshopping with my peers, which I found extremely helpful in creating a cohesive and impactful work of fiction. This was my second time participating in a writing workshop and as a new fiction writer, I already feel much more confident in my ability to craft an effective short story.
I wanted this story to have a deep sense of interiority and complexity. It is about a college girl named Amber and her relationship struggles with men, her family, and herself. Although I wanted to be really close on my main character's thoughts and feelings, I still wanted to surprise the audience with her actions, causing them to question how well they really know Amber.
I received a lot of great feedback on my final draft. My peers and professor said that I did a wonderful job creating a captivating and complicated character through an uncommon POV, while utilizing a nonlinear timeline to craft a story that comes full circle. Although Amber is a controversial character, people found themselves sympathizing with her and understanding her motives because she seems so real.
I hope you give this story a read and decide for yourself how you feel about Amber!
Here are some images from the workshopping process, showing how I used peer feedback to revise my story. I blocked out their names for privacy.
How Military Discharge Policies Fail Service Members with Mental Health Conditions
Psychology and Law Research Paper
I contemplated both psychology and law as possible career paths, but picked English because I preferred literature and creative writing. That being said, I really enjoyed writing this research paper on a relevant topic at the intersection of these two disciplines.
Please click on this link to read my research paper.
Abstract:
Military service members with mental health conditions face significant institutional barriers that stigmatize treatment-seeking and often result in career-ending discharges. This paper examines how current military discharge policies fail service members experiencing psychological conditions by analyzing the legal framework, prevalence of mental health issues, and consequences of less-than-honorable discharges. Using Bates et al.'s (2010) military demand-resource model as a theoretical framework, this paper demonstrates that psychological fitness is not a fixed characteristic, but can be developed through proper institutional support. Research indicates that 16% of veterans receive less-than-honorable discharges, which severely restricts access to Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) benefits and contributes to negative psychosocial outcomes, including homelessness, substance abuse, and suicidality. Stigma, lack of unit support, and fear of career repercussions also create substantial barriers to mental health care utilization. Legal recommendations include mandatory mental health training for discharge board members, clearer standards for liberal consideration of mental health conditions, expanded VA eligibility for veterans with less-than-honorable discharges, and proactive mental toughness training programs implemented throughout time in service. These reforms would align military practices with principles of therapeutic jurisprudence and procedural justice while also addressing racial disparities in discharge outcomes. By shifting institutional responsibility from punitive approaches to resource provision, the military can better support service members' psychological fitness and reduce unjust discharges.
Suitably Unsuited
Jane Austen Writing Contest Runner-Up
The carriage arrived at the Smith’s estate and Anna became enthralled with the natural beauty of the scene.
She stepped out of the carriage and wandered toward the house, which was situated near the top of a dazzling green hill; she followed the winding stone path through the extravagant oak trees, leading her closer to the object of both her fear and desire. When the path ended and there was nothing left standing between Anna and the daunting mansion that towered over her, she was reminded of her apprehensions and wondered if she should return to the safety of the carriage. Thomas Smith was a handsome gentleman with a striking demeanor that captivated Anna, though this allure was quite dangerous for a young woman prohibited to marry a man with Smith’s tainted family history. Her mind flooded with the memory of that night—the intimacy that they shared, yet only for a brief moment, as she danced with Thomas Smith. Almost three fortnights had passed since the ball and Anna could not dispel her thoughts of his charming nature and excellent manners, though she was certain that she could not be in love—especially not with a man whose family was as disagreeable and arrogant as his own. The idea disgusted Anna to her very core; so, with no further thought on the matter, she banished all recollections of the spark once present between her and Mr. Smith, and calmly entered the house, hoping to maintain an air of indifference.
Once inside, Anna was delightfully greeted by the housekeeper Mrs. Williams, a polite and respectable older
woman. Mrs. Williams told Anna how grateful she was for her arrival, as she directed her towards the drawing room—a large, elegant chamber with crowned ceilings, tasteful furnishings, and large, wood-framed windows from which Anna admired the telling view.
“Please, my dear, make yourself comfortable as I fetch Mr. Smith from his quarters,” said Mrs. Williams
before she hurried off to retrieve the gentleman.
Anna, still unsure about her obligation to see Thomas Smith, began to fear her circumstances; here she stood
in his drawing room, awaiting his company, worried that she would fall victim once again to his natural charm and allure; suddenly her eyes spotted a piano. Compelled by its beauty and her passion for the instrument, Anna approached the piano and seated herself on the wooden bench; she recalled her many years of lessons and—given that her family was forced to sell their instrument in need of money—how much she missed the leisure of playing. As her dainty fingers met the keys, the melody of the piece flowed naturally out of her; it was as if she had never stopped playing—her rhythm was precise, her dynamics were effortless, and Anna was wholly engaged in her playing of the instrument.
“That is the most beautiful music I have ever been granted to hear.” Anna heard a voice softly project from
behind her; her fingers froze atop the keys and her heart nearly skipped a beat, though she was unsure why. She had expected Smith’s appearance, so for what purpose was she so embarrassingly flustered by the resonance of his voice? Remaining seated, Anna slowly turned her head around to face the gentlemen; there stood Smith, well-dressed and with a firm countenance; he smiled at her cordially. “You have quite the talent,” he proclaimed as his eyes, when met with Anna’s, seemed to pierce through her very being and cause her to spiral into anxious distress yet again. It could not be possible, that a woman of her wit was drawn to a man as arrogant as him, or that she would even consider associating with someone whose family had so violently wronged hers; the thought frightened her, yet as she glanced at Smith and beheld his face filled with curiosity and fascination—for her and her musical abilities—Anna was certain that she, indeed, longed for him.