Zach Estudillo describes himself as a taciturn high school junior in San Francisco, California. He attends Ruth Asawa School of the Arts (SOTA), and enjoys sports such as basketball, baseball, and even curling. He is passionate about words and their origins.

Writing is indispensable to Estudillo because he would not be able to express his introspections without this energetic outlet. He prefers to write in couplets, a style which often is considered rap, and creates his own nonsensical jargon as a verbal path through his life. His work has appeared in the 826 Valencia Young Authors’ Workshop Anthologies.

Estudillo believes today’s intemperate reliance on social media affects youth. The constant desire to attain validation of one’s self has hindered young people, and consequences will emerge in the future. When one receives “likes,” “retweets,” or “subscribers,” it seems to reward a person in the sense that they are glorified, uplifted, elevated, and most importantly, accepted. The over-saturated exposure most teens have to social media isolates the outliers who do not “drip in sauce,” or alienates those who deviate from this modern standard. Social media culture creates unrealistic standards for youth, who are susceptible to a “follow the wave” mentality.

Estudillo aspires to study World Arts and Cultures at UCLA. He is grateful for his family, friends, and teachers for educating him with the tools and secrets to live in this big world and wants to give a shoutout his dog, Benita.


The Enmity and Entity of a Basketball

by Zachary Estudillo

Let’s get one thing straight:

I am a basketball, “and it’s my favorite sport”

“I wish I was a baller”, “they dribble [me] up and down the court”

But I feel exploited

They caress my leather-flesh then bludgeon me into a net

I’m utilized physically, they think I’m a pet

I feel invigorated, innovated

Shot up in an arc so when I swish they say

“It’s in I made it!”

I revel in it, but I also feel ambivalent

You can call me cavalier

Not from Cleveland

But I’m the “rock” that they’re seein’ but

I’ve underwent through spurts of runs, splashes

That have hurt amongst the repugnant perspiration

of sweaty, cotton t-shirts at the Y

I ask myself “Why?” everyday

But something about players shooting, bellowing


I am a basketball, but I love it

I am always regulated

like a puppet

Teams fabricate their offense off of me

But it’s exciting when I watch some quality

Like the Dubs

I’m in awe

Ostentatiously, they play preeminently,

heavily passing, opaque cutting, or defending thee

They dropping dimes,

as if I was a spending spree


I’m beloved at the playground

Ricochet, “in yo’ face”, I’m a rebound

Steal me, dunk it, or penetrate to the rack

I’m omnipotent, they’re into it

and that’s a fact

So Imma leave while I exit

“Nah” I’m just kidding “I’m back”

Like what Steph said in Game 4

“Trailblazing” the track

Seventeen in only five still leading

the pack

I smack, compact, extract, flipping, spinning


I get passed or outletted to be laid in

the sack

That sack of fiber net ripped and swished

‘till it cracks

I get bounced and rolled ‘till they’re satisfied

I’m shot up in the air

‘till I get buried inside

The gravity I defy in the sky flying high

but descending straight down while

y’all look with your eyes

So cherish I, but I’ll still perish

and die

Until you pump me back up, pressurized

with a needle, test the air while you

can so I can’t get popped from a


I get annoyed from bad play

Like Patrick Star yelling


So use me right, not out of spite,

I’m not Evel Knievel

So don’t abuse me I tire too

and I’ll fatigue

‘Till I’m


Just remember

I’m a basketball,

I got power,

I’m lethal