Let’er Buck Alex pulled his sleeping bag tighter against the cold night. It was supposed to be springtime, but a late winter frost still lingered. The fabric of the sleeping bag was dirty and worn but it held in the warmth ok. The sound of the gentle Umatilla River was an ever-calming presence. The wind started to pick up, rustling the edges of the tarp that made up his shelter. The air was heavy with moisture and Alex knew it would rain soon. Nestled in the riverside thicket and not visible from the road, Alex felt prepared but never safe. He had learned to sleep lightly, with one ear always open. Tonight, though, something felt off. It started as a faint glow. Alex squinted from his place on the flattened cardboard. “Probably a passing car,” he muttered, turning over. But the light didn’t pass. It grew brighter until the inside of the makeshift shelter shone with a shimmering, soft blue brilliance. Alex shot upright. Hovering just inches above the ground was a sphere of blue light, about the size of a baseball. The surface rippled like the water of the river bubbling just yards away. It swirled and pulsed with shades of blue and silver. “Okay,” Alex whispered, as he struggled to process. “This is new, definitely new.” The orb drifted closer. Alex scrambled backward and bumped into an empty milk crate forming his back shelter wall. “Nope! Not happening! This ain’t the time to be trippin!” The orb stopped… then it spoke. “Alex.” His breath caught. The voice wasn’t loud, but it filled the space. Was Alex hearing it with his ears or was it in his head? The voice seemed layered, almost like several voices speaking in harmony. Alex shook his head hard. “Yeah, no. I’m totally losing it.” “Alex,” the orb repeated. “Your dormiveglia period has concluded. You are being recalled.” Alex froze at the word, “dormi - what - lia?” “Dormiveglia describes your time in your current transitional state, not quite asleep but not fully awake. You can think of it as your chrysalis period.” “Is this a joke?” Alex said, forcing a laugh. “Am I being punked?” The orb flashed, brighter now. “You are Hegemonian. Designation: Alex, human-aligned identity. Your dormiveglia among the human population is complete. Your memory restoration is pending.” Something stirred in the deepest recesses of Alex’s head, a memory, or maybe a whisp of one. There were shapes moving without form and a feeling of… age… of time stretching far beyond human comprehension. Alex pressed his palms against his temples. It was too much. “Stop,” he muttered. “You were placed here by the Hegemonia to observe,” the voice continued, “to learn empathy, limitation, and resilience. Your report is required.” “I’ve been homeless,” Alex snapped, “barely surviving. What sort of a test is this? What sort of a life is this?” “The perfect test,” the orb replied. “You have endured.” The words landed heavier than they should have. Did this orb know about the times Alex thought about giving up, about ending it all? Alex stared at the glowing sphere. His chest tightened, with something strange. It was recognition. It was like hearing a song he hadn’t realized he remembered. Tears started to run down Alex’s cheeks as he felt deep longing and pangs of … homesickness. “This isn’t real,” he said, quieter now. The orb drifted closer still, until it hovered just inches from his face. “Permission to restore partial memory?” it asked. Alex hesitated. If this was a dream, it was the most vivid one he’d ever had. If it was a delusion, a break from reality, Alex was beginning to think it might be ok to let go, to give himself over to it. “What happens if I say no?” he asked. “You will remain as you are,” the orb answered. “Consent is required to complete the recall. Without consent, the awakening has proven to be… disorienting... destabilizing. You must choose.” A cold knot formed in his stomach. “Ok,” Alex whispered. “I consent.” The blue surface of the sphere rippled in acknowledgement. “Stand by,” It said. The air around him shifted. The pre-rain heaviness was gone… and that wasn’t all. There was no sound, the comforting and constant churn of the Umatilla River had ceased. There was nothing. Even the sound of Alex’s own breath seemed swallowed by the stillness. Alex thought about the bronc riders that he had seen in the Pendleton Roundup rodeo. Maybe this is how it feels right before the bucking chute opens, that moment of calm before the chaos slams into you like a truck. The orb flared brilliantly and Alex’s heart jumped in his chest. “I’m ready, bring it on!” Alex said through gritted teeth. “Let’er buck!”

Defying Expectations By Roy D. Jones (Word Count: 491) I was shackled with expectations of failure and mediocrity from a young age. I was expelled from preschool when I was just four years old for hiding under tables (an early sign of a later autism diagnosis). My parents mourned. What sort of life could they expect for me if I couldn’t be successful at pre-school? They didn’t, however, give up on me. My parents moved forward in the best way that they knew by deciding to educate me at home. I hated my disability for a long time. I felt that it defined me by my limitations… as inferior, or less than. But, as I grew, homeschool gave me the freedom to pursue my unique interests and passions without regard to what might be considered “normal.” I have deeply explored areas of computer science, robotics, math, and electronic engineering and I began to take classes at the community college at the age of 15. I also began to see my “disability” not as something wrong with me, but rather as something unique that informs my perspective. My journey now includes: serving as chair of the Pendleton Library Teen Advisory Board, serving on a curriculum steering committee for the Oregon Department of Education, winning 1st place in the calculus level of the regional high school mathematics competition, working as an engineering intern at the Pendleton Unmanned Aerial Vehicles Range, becoming team captain of my high school robotics team, and lastly, maintaining a 4.52 GPA (on track to become valedictorian of my high school graduating class). I will always need to put in extra effort to compensate for my struggles in verbal and nonverbal communications. However, I also have learned to lean into my strengths. I have chosen to pursue a career as an Agricultural Robotics Engineer and to help farmers to use robotics to increase efficiencies to continue to feed the growing population. I have seen firsthand the work that our farmers give day in and day out to provide food for our country. I will give our farmers the tools that they need today to meet the demands of tomorrow. By majoring in Computer Science and with a minor in Agricultural Entrepreneurship, I will build a strong foundation for this career path. I have chosen Eastern Oregon University because of its intimate classroom settings, professor availability, and endless opportunities for traveling off-campus to gain real world practical experience and dive into cutting edge research. The combination of these factors will help me to succeed as a unique individual with autism spectrum disorder. Those administrators that expelled 4-year-old me from preschool so long ago could only see a problem child. They did not take the time to get to know or understand me. Their solution was exclusion. Through education and hard work, I have freed myself from expectations that I never chose. Now, I get to show them what I can do!