Volunteer!!!

2007 Amani Festival

2006 Amani Festival

Festival Schedule

Amani Festival Committee

History

Poetry Contest

Corporate Sponsors

Photo Gallery

Vendor Application

Children's Alley

Become a Corporate Sponsor

Maps

Contact Us

Ensemble (2003)

Festival Cookbook

FAQ

Amani Festival 2002
Poetry Winners

 

Grades 1st-3rd
First Place	Second Place
We are all the same By Daniel Calaman Grade 3   We’re all the same whether our skin is brown, black or white. We’re all the same whether we’re tall, short or medium. We’re all the same whether we’re rich or poor. We’re all the same whether we can do something or not. We’re all the same no matter what.	How is there a Difference? By Zachery Kanneg Grade 3  How is there a difference from you and me? There is no difference from you and me. There is no difference from red or blue or black or white. There is no difference from big or smalL There is no difference from smart or stupid. The Amani Festival is my favorite time of year Because it’s when we get together in peace And get to know one another better
Grades 4-5
First Place	Second Place
What if? By Shanea Patterson Brown Grade 5 What if I were yellow? How would you treat me? Would you treat me like an equal? Or like a dog?  What if I were green, blue, or spotted? Striped, zigzagged or curved? Would you treat me like a bird or dirt? Do you know how I would treat you? What if you were Spanish, Greek, or Chinese? British, Mexican, Bosnian or German? Would it really matter? How much time will it take, To figure out that everyone is the same? What if we were like words? Or letters or colors? Then would we be able to get along? Like notes in a song?	Welcome! By Victoria Richwine Grade 4   Welcome to the Amani Festival. Thanks for coming near or far. Come on! Step right up. Tell us who you are. It doesn’t matter If you are black, white or tan, Or from Maryland, Florida, or Japan. This includes Every girl, boy, woman, or man. We all come from different cultures. Now this will be something grand. But everyone’s unique In his or her own special way. Now let’s just have fun and play. Especially if it lasts all day!
Grades 6-8
First Place	Second Place
Into the Pot By Anthony Francavilla Grade 8  Like sheep they gather upon the steady ship, Yearning simply to finish this dreadful trip. The last strands of hope stretch ready to break, Their hearts are racing and their legs start to quake.  Stand fast my children, fear not the vast sea, For you are my family, you are part of me. They cling to their Bible, their Torah, or Koran For these are what keep their feet in the sand.  At last their hope fails them, the voice is shooed away It’s over, a lost cause and despair has won the day. Or has it?  What gorgeous stone is that jutting from the sea? A woman bringing renewed hope, and a land that is free.  She yells through the bay in a voice that is sweet, “Give me your tired,” thousands bow to her feet. She continues loud and sweet, “Bring me your poor. Fear not, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”  But a door to what?  How could they be sure? What should they expect to find behind this golden door? Above all Liberty’s voice easily surpasses, But where is she taking these huddled masses?  They flowed through a gate, that they knew, But they still knew nothing, what’s false or what’s true. To heaven on earth, or the tenth circle of hell, What lie in wait, no one could tell.  Scared and uncertain, the ingredients flowed, Emotions and feelings they candidly showed. With shiploads of others their journey is done, They all mix together becoming one.  Into the melting pot that we all call home, The immigrants will begin to work and to roam. This mixing of cultures is matched by no others, This is the way of Amani for we are all brothers.	I Am By Ashley Kauffman Grade 7  I am a child; I am a mother, I am a friend; I am not a color.  I am someone learning to read, I am someone trying to succeed.  I am a fireman battling flames, I am a cancer patient who is in pain.  I am a homeless person living on the street, I am an Olympian ready to compete.  I am a shopkeeper opening my store, I am a soldier going to war. I am a sister: I am a brother, I could be your friend, so don’t judge me by color.
Grades 9-12
First Place
Gaea’s Glass Cat’s Eye By Matt Ginter   Pangea [1] breaks, 180 millennia past…50 years…it’s all the same: That sprawling green-brown mass of slight variance, finely glazed at both ends with smooth Allabaster white, fragments into lesser parts, two smaller lands set adrift on a vast field of Shimmering sapphires. Panthalassa[2] shrinks, 199 million square miles…1.896 hectares…it’s all the same: Rolling blue waves lap softly ‘gainst cragged shores, rough contours of land slowly consuming The interminable ocean, quietly eroding its archaic isolation.  Gaea’s[3] glass cat’s eye takes form. Laurasia[4] creeps forth, 0.78 inches/year…1,954 nanometers/decades…it’s all the same: Asymmetrical slices of land break free, arbitrarily left along the way, swallowed amidst a sea of Blue and white dissimilar spectrums converging.  Gondwanaland[5] progresses in step. Time crawls along, One second to a blink…seven blinks to a year…it’s all the same: Wispy gray clouds, twirling and dancing o’er the canvas of Earth, paint with subtle strokes an Ever-changing portrait as convictions tumble and fall ‘pon the mighty cascade of eternity. Future is history, readjusted, Tomorrow?  …the next day  …it’s all the same: This small teaming orb – blue, green, brown and white…pure integrated beauty – so far Advanced from time’s pre-time, a multihued beacon eclipsing set notions. Inspiration arises, An ounce of hope…a glimmer of promise…is it all the same…? For what greater brilliance remains undiscovered, beyond jagged edges, past the tinge of Uniformity, in the very heart of Gaea’s glass cat’s eye, distinct colors indistinguishable in its Boundless swirl…   [1] A prehistoric supercontinent [2] huge prehistoric ocean [3] earth goddess in Greek Myth [4] one of two smaller continents created by Pangea’s break [5] the second smaller continent
Second Place
Dark Hands By Kirah M Craig Grade 12   Imprints of difference A young girl cannot see the lines of each. These lines become blurry, As they merge to something grand! A braid, something strong, something bold! From the black hands crisscrossing them to beauty, like a mother teaching a talent.  Eyes set gave on such a site. Ignorance ridicules the beauty innocence knowing only content is hurt the reaction is a blow to the link.  Braids unraveled! Three strands of unity come undone. to the world, to the hate.  These grand braids, now older I still can feel!             One part passion.                         One part freedom.                                     One part beliefs of indifference. Brunette, blond, red All hair is able to braid.

Return to Amani Home Page