Finishing My Research Paper

The explosions seamed like they were coming from close by outside; the distance between us was marginally comforting. I look at the women around me, still concerned with mashed potatoes, pretending not to have noticed the disturbance. The constant flow of kids in the lunch line continues to move, letting nothing slow down the current. The students continue to file into the lunchroom and then sit with their waiting friends, unable to hear the noises over the roar of themselves.  I meet the worried look of Jay (9?), a custodian, just before he leaves to check out the sounds outside of our back doors.  Being married to a cop makes me continuously nervous, but that was nothing compared to the current sensation in my gut. Those of us that are serving food continue, doing our best to look calm and collected.

            “Get down! Under the tables! Everyone, hide!”

            I can hear Jay and two other male voices yelling in the room next to us. They keep telling the kids to hide. Hide from what? What is coming for them? Should I be hiding too? Suddenly, the line of kids contorts into a mob of frantic teenagers. Everyone moves in different directions, trying to escape the unknown horror. My hand is abruptly no longer holding a serving spoon but someone else’s hand. Karen pulls me from the steam tables to the back room.

            “Call Erik, see what’s going on.” She hisses at me. I can see fright in her eyes and I’m sure mine look very similar. I grab my purse and force my shaking fingers to search for my cell phone. I dial Erik and wait for the comfort of his voice, but all I get is his answering machine. I close my phone and wait for Karen to tell me what to do next but as she opens her mouth to speak, me both jump at the sounds of a blast. 

            A dozen kids run into the back room with us, the innocence gone from their eyes, only to be replaced with terror. They look at Karen and I like we have answers for them, but of course, we don’t. I tell them to huddle together as far from the doors as they can while Karen and I try to figure out what’s going on.

            “They are trying to kill us all!” a boy whispers just before he hides his face in his hands. I’m about to prod him for more information when I hear more gunfire. I fall to my hands and knees and start to crawl. Karen is beside me instantly and we both move from the back room through the kitchen serving area. I turn to tell the kids to get close together and hide but they have beat me too it. Their instincts have taken over as they cling to each other in fear. I see one of the boys pull out a phone and dial three digits before (10) I turn again to continue crawling.

            When we reach the entrance to the cafeteria, I pause for a moment to collect my shaking self.  I take a deep breath; at this point, I didn’t know if it would be my last.  I try to give Karen a reassuring smile but it comes out as more of a grimace. Then I slowly peaked my head around the doorframe, looking for any danger between me and the exit closer to my car. Smoke looms near the ceiling of the whole room, the remains from the explosion we heard earlier. I can hear more gunshots coming from the top of the stairs near by. Whoever it is is up near the library and the science wing (11). The shooting stops and I can hear feet coming down the stairs that lead right into the cafeteria. My heart skips a beat as I panic. I lay flat on the floor, hiding but still watching to see who it is and what they are capable of.

            Two high school boys, one in a black T-shirt and the other in white (12), travel down the stairs. They are heavily armed with guns, at least three a piece. The boy in white stops on the platform, just before the base of the stairs, and aims his gun at a duffle bag across the room (13).  He fires several shots but nothing happens.  The boy in black walks over to the target and starts messing with the bag. The other boy follows him. While across the room, they drink from water bottles that had been left on the tables by fleeing students. The sight makes me sick. They graciously quench their thirst with the water left by a student whose life they have threatened. I cover my mouth in an effort not to throw up.

            Karen tugs at my shirt and I slowly turn towards her. Questions flash across her face but I put my pointer finger up to my lips, signaling her to stay quiet. I whisper, not using any voice to stay as quiet as possible, and explain that there are two boys, armed and dangerous. We need to stay here and stay quiet. I rotate back towards the horrific scene of the cafeteria, looking for the shooters. I have lost sight of them but I can hear their voices. They are mumbling but suddenly one voice gets louder. I hear it say, “Today the world’s going to come to an end. Today’s the day we die (14).” All the nerves in my body freeze and I am numb, unable to feel the cold tile underneath my body or even turn to look at Karen. I look up in time to see the two boys walk back up the stairs towards the library again, still carrying their guns.

            Tears run down my cheeks, whether from relieve that I still had my life or fear for the people who still remained up stars. I rolled over and grabbed Karen’s face, her cheeks also wet with tears. “We have to get out of here,” I whispered, looking directly into her big brown eyes,  “now!” We crawl back to the room where we left the dozen plus kids. They all sat there silent and terrified. As we approach them, we tell them we have to leave with panicked, hurried whispers. One by one they get up and we lead them to the doors that go outside to the teacher parking lot behind the school. From there, they are met by officers and are able to run to the police cars that had arrived. Each time I come to the doors with a new student, I look for Erik. I don’t know if he is here but I secretly hope he isn’t.

            Just as we are sending the last two kids outside, we hear more gunshots from upstairs. I cringe at each explosion, who knew how many innocent kids were dead and how many more were wounded. More smoke had been created by the preceding gunshots; just enough to set off the smoke alarms and the sprinkler system in the cafeteria (15).  Karen and I are soaked as we run from the building to the safety of the ambulances and officers.

            Cold and terrified, I search for Erik. I asked around but people are rightfully distracted by the more pressing manner at hand. Shots are fired from inside the building and then more from the police that stand in front of me. Windows shatter as bullets go through their panes. I look up at the school I have worked at for the most recent part of my life; once, it was the nicest school on this side of the state, now it stands broken, covered in the blood of its students. The loud whirring of a helicopter is followed by gusts of wind as it comes into view. As I turn to look at the aircraft, I spot a familiar squad car on the other side of the parking lot. Erik is here. The nausea sets in again and I almost double over. To get to his car, I would have to walk for half a mile, without any protection or trees or cars or cops.

            I hear the radio from on of the police cars going through the various codes, some of which I know from Erik talking about them, but also announcing that the school needs to be evacuated (16). SWAT team members and officers over by Erik’s car act on this command by moving towards the school; the ones by me stay because they have a direct view of the library, where the gun shots can still be heard. The windows of the upstairs library are all gone and paramedics rescue three students from the second story (17). They are then rushed away to the hospital with bullet wounds. The world is quiet for a second. No more gunfire. All that is heard is the sirens of the police cruisers and the helicopter above us, small annoyances compared to what we all had just witnessed.

            I look over to where Erik’s car is parked, hoping to see him in one piece. Still, I can’t find him. I start to cry, all the possible tragedies playing in my head. As I look around I see other tear stained faces so I’m not embarrassed. I start to walk towards where Erik should be when I hear two final gunshots. I look back up at the library windows, anger consuming me. How could those two boys do all of this?! They have killed so many people and they might have even killed my husband, someone who wasn’t even supposed to have been here today! With the adrenaline of my fury puling through me, I run. When I get to his cop car, I look around me. I see students hiding behind the car, I see police everywhere, parents standing by the barricades thirty yards away by the street, but still no Erik.

            “June”

            I hear his voice behind me. I quickly turn to see his face, covered in soot, blood and fresh tears.  I run to him, my own face full of emotion as well.  I throw myself at him, pulling myself as close as I can. I ignore his uniform, torn and stained from going into the building and carrying students out, and kiss his face, anywhere I can get my lips to touch. He does the same until we both pull away and begin talking. Between the sobs, I give him the short version of what I just went through while he explains his side of the events. Never once do we let go of each other, even if its just holding hands.

            The event winds down as more and more students are rescued from the building. We hear from the radio that the two murderers committed suicide (18), signaling the end of the continuous gunshots.

Foot Notes

Im FINALLY getting my foot notes done for my paper. Here are some of them.

1.   1.  (Sun Valley, Colorado) Sun Valley, Co is located twenty-three min north of Littleton, Co, the site of the Columbine Massacre.

“Sun Valley, Colorado.” Map. Google Maps. Google, 2011. Web. 14 April 2011.

2.    2. (Columbine High School) A large school located in Littleton, Colorado. This school was the site for the Columbine school shootings in 1999.

“Columbine High School, Littleton, Colorado.” Map. Google Maps. Google, 2011.       Web. 14 April 2011.

3.    3. (April 20, 1999) April 20, 1999 was the day the Columbine shootings took place. Two high school boys, Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold, killed twelve students and one teacher. Many more were wounded.

Coleman, Doriane Lambelet. "Introduction." Fixing Columbine: the      challenge to American liberalism. Durham, N.C.: Carolina Academic      Press, 2002. 3. Print.

4.     4. (Trying to Fit In)Reports of the social latter within Columbine have been recognized as very specific and hard to work with. Students were intimidated by implied standards. It is these standards that are thought to have contributed to pushing Dylan Klebold and Eric Harris over the edge.

Cite Web Site

5.     5. (Jocks Rule The School) It has been noted that there was favoritism for the athletes at Columbine High School. Many accounts have been recorded and made available for the public to dispute. The worst part is that many teachers at the school simply looked the other way while students were tormented daily.

TFoot notes are a pain but they can be very helpful when writing a paper like we are. I'm really glad I'm getting a chance to pretend to be someone else. It is kinda fun to put on a mask and act like you were at the scene of a crime that happened over ten years ago. I also am enjoying how creative we get to be. I've gotten three pages done of my paper and I'm not even to the action part. It's gonna be a long paper! yikes!

First part of my research paper...

My name is June Litovchick and I am in my mid thirties.  I made it through high school without getting pregnant, a miracle in my family, but decided college wasn’t for me. I spent a few years after school being young and crazy, but when I met Erik, I knew it was time to settle down. Together, we bought a house in Marion, Ohio, my hometown, and had our first child, Shane. We lived there for several years but before long, we needed a change of pace. When our family moved to Sun Valley, Colorado, we didn’t come for the weather or the mountains, but for the jobs. Erik joined the squad as a Cop and I used the only skill I had to earn some cash: cooking.

            Every day, I kiss my husband before I head out the door to my car. In the garage sits my Ford Focus; it takes me to and from my job at the high school a couple towns away. I take out a cigarette after dropping Shane off at the middle school, my tool for relaxation before a long day of loud kids and hot ovens. I can hear my mother in my head, telling me I should quit before the cancer sets in. Maybe next week. My drive isn’t too bad, a quick twenty minutes down Highway 85 then a two rights and a left to get to Columbine High School. Not my favorite place to be, but it will do. As I park in the employee lot, I notice what a nice day it is outside. The sky seams almost too nice, like the eerie calm before the storm. Normally spring brings rain to Colorado, but not today. Its April 20, 1999(1), just another Tuesday. I'm at the school before most of the students so that the girls and I can get out the breakfast food. We have a menu of everything from Pop-tarts to Orange Juice, all stocked by the other "Lunch Ladies" and myself. 

          At Seven, the kids start to pour through the double doors on their way to various classes. Working in a big school like Columbine has its ups and downs. I never see the same faces twice, but I'm always looking. I see the boys that come in every shape and size and think, "What will my Shane look like when he gets to this age?" Then I see the girls, each one trying so hard to fit in. They layer on the make up and the accessories, trying to get the attention of someone, anyone. I also see the cliques. This school is full of categories to put people in. Everyone has a label to where they fit in, like shelves at a grocery store. When someone tries to break out of their shelf, there is always someone to pick them up and shove them back where they belong. And just like in every other high school in America, the jocks rule the school (2). Their arrogance was irritating if you let it get under your skin, but I tended to ignore it. I wasn't the principal or even a teacher so my efforts to keep people in line was useless. On occasion, I would witness the torment of a smaller student being pushed around by a group of hulking boys. To me it was wrong, I wanted to stop them or at least let someone in charge know. But my coworkers would tell me to let it go, "It's just high school," they would say .

Bibliography

Four sources to use for my research paper:

Coleman, Doriane Lambelet. Fixing Columbine: the Challenge to American Lliberalism. Durham, N.C.: Carolina Academic Press, 2002. Print.

Though this book is dense with information and big words, it is also full of helpful information. Once you get passed the opinions of the author, the pages give way to facts about kids and their negative tendencies. This non-fiction books acts as a reference work for the Columbine Shootings. The facts and the outcomes can be found here if you scan with a fine tooth comb.

Cornell, Dewey G.. School Violence: Fears Versus Facts. Mahwah, N.J.: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates, 2006. Print.

This hardcover shows readers strictly what is wrong with our school systems. It goes into detail about the programs implemented to help stop violence in kids, while also telling us which ones work and which ones don’t. The book provides insight on where our money is going and where it should be going to help keep our kids alive and safe. This encyclopedia about violence will help me describe the events of Columbine. I will be able to look at the facts from other books and analyze them using this book. It’s always better to know the reason behind something before you judge it.

Strasser, Todd. Give a Boy a Gun . New York: Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers, 2000. Print.

This book is a compilation of many people’s different sides of one common story. In recounting of Middletown’s middle school shooting, the author takes account of the different voices that were involved. This in depth look at how others were effected by school shootings will help me write my own account of the Columbine event. The emotion conveyed by these witnesses is heart wrenching but inspiring.

Webber, Julie A.. Failure to Hold: the Politics of School Violence. Lanham: Rowan & Littlefield, 2003. Print.

Failure to Hold provides readers with information on schools in general, not just columbine, and how violence is spreading and “poisoning the water” all over the US. This book goes into detail about other schools that endured similar horrors to that of Columbine; Students that loose control and take themselves and others down with a gun in their hand. This work will help me compare Columbine to other similar instances. By giving me comparisons, I can better understand the situation I will be writing about.

Choir Takes Over

Tomorrow, I will be getting on a bus and leaving Kalamazoo. The choir program here at Western is going on tour! The only problem with this trip is that I don't know where we are going. Our choir teacher is a lovely women but she has a lot on her plate. As the week progresses, her brain gets more and more frazzled. Needless to say, no one in our group is sure of were we will end up tomorrow night. Each one of us will have our bags packed and be on the bus by 8 a.m. Wednesday morning. We will be traveling to different high schools around Michigan to recruit kids to come to Western. I'm excited to be going on this tour, but again, I'm unsure of where we are going. We are meeting today for rehearsal and I plan on grilling my teacher for the details of our voyage. I like to be prepared and right now, I don't feel that way at all. So anyways, we will be gone from Wednesday until Friday, singing our hearts out every day. 

Topic Proposal

For our next project: Research Paper

            Our group will be researching the Columbine massacre that happened on April 20, 1999. That day will never be forgotten because of the tragedy that took place. Twelve students were murdered and one teacher was taken with them. Twenty-three other students were wounded but not killed. That day, bullying reached a new level of fright. Two boys, Eric Harris and Dyland Klebold decided they had had enough of the torture. They were smart kids that had been picked on because they were “nerds” and imperfect. On April 20, they brought guns to school and spoke out to their peers by shooting the people they hated the most. Horrified and shocked, Jefferson County of Colorado witnessed a tragedy like none before.

            I chose to be a lunch lady at Columbine high school during the gruesome shootings of 1999. “My name is Nancy Snyder and I am in my mid thirties.  Every day, I kiss my husband before I head out the door to my car. A beat up Chevy truck takes me to and from my job at the local high school. When Jack and I moved to Columbine, we didn’t come for the weather or the mountains, but for the jobs. Jack picked up a steady post at the factory and I used the only skill I had to earn some cash: cooking. I had heard through the gossip of the teenagers that some people were liked more than others at this school. I never paid much attention because I had done my time in high school; I was done with that drama. But on April 20, I witnessed the most frightening moment of my life. ”

            I already know who the kids were that brought the guns to school and what their motivation was for doing so. Being bullied is a terrible thing and to have put up with it for so long is impressive. How they dealt with their anger, however, was horrifying and left many people dead or wounded. To be so upset and not receiving any help from family or friends must have been a losing battle. I would like to know if the two boys who brought the guns to school had any mental issues. Were they unstable or did they just snap? I also wonder why no one tried to help them. Where were their parents? Didn’t they notice that their kids were up set? And where did they get the guns? Did a sales clerk really sell to guns to two under aged and emotionally unstable boys? Or were the guns already in their houses? The research my group and I will be conducting during the next few weeks will hopefully be able to answer these questions.

My Second Lesson Plan

Baby Beluga

Objectives:

·      Students will use the song “Baby Beluga” to explore the world of underwater sea creatures.

Materials:

·      Picture books: Sea creature themed, can be found at www.amazon.com

§  The Snail and The Whale by Julia Donaldson

§  Face to Face With Whales by Flip Nicklin

·      Raffi songbook and CD that includes the song “Baby Beluga”.

§  CD and sheet music can be found at www.amazon.com but lyrics are on the next page

Procedure:

·      Open class by calling on kids and having them say their favorite sea creature

·      Introduce the class to the world of whales by reading “A snail and a whale”

·      Discuss how the two characters helped each other

·      Read “Face to Face with Whales” for a more realistic look at whales

·      Introduce the song “Baby Beluga”

·      The first time it plays, everyone just listens

·      Play the song again while the teacher sings along with the recording by themselves

·      Play the song a third time and as the students to join in

·      This time, when the song plays, introduce the hand motion of a whale jumping through waves (put your two hands together and wave them up and down)

·      Finish with a round of applause for each other

Assessment:

·      The students should be focused and putting in effort to understand the singing the correct words for the song. Everyone should be waving their hands when the action is introduced during the final sing through.

Lyrics for “Baby Beluga”

           

Baby Beluga in the deep blue sea,
Swim so wild and you swim so free.
Heaven above, and the sea below,
And a little white whale on the go.

Baby beluga, baby Beluga, is the water warm?
Is your mama home with you, so happy.

Way down yonder where the dolphins play,
Where they dive and splash all day,
The waves roll in and the waves roll out,
See the water squirting out of your spout.

Baby beluga, baby Beluga, sing your little song,
Sing for all your friends, we like to hear you.

When it's dark, you're home and fed,
Curl up snug in your water bed.
Moon is shining and the stars are out,
Good night, little whale, goodnight.

Baby beluga, baby Beluga, with tomorrow's sun,
Another day's begun, you'll soon be waking.

Baby Beluga in the deep blue sea,
Swim so wild and you swim so free.
Heaven above and the sea below,
And a little white whale on the go.
You're just a little white whale on the go.

Rough Draft

I am writing lesson plans for my genre. This is my first attempt.

rough draft 1

Genre Essay

I am very interested in kids and teaching. Within the next eight years, I hope to have my own classroom in a local elementary school. The local part may not be so easily attainable. With the status of Michigan teachers, I will probably have to move out of the state. I'm prepared to go the distance to make the lives of kids better.

I will be writing lesson plans for my future classroom.

Approach to this assignment:
I will plan activities for a variety of subjects. I plan to write one about Math, Science, Language Arts, Music, and Art. Each one will include an activity that will help explain the subject and give kids an opportunity to practice what we have learned.

An example: this is a web site I found for some ideas and inspiration. So far it has been very helpful.
HotChalk Lesson Plans Page

Out Line for Essay

Same Picture as Tuesdays Blog Post :)

Initial Impression: This picture says a thousand words about love, which is why I like it. Nothing is written on it; the only word in the picture is “BOND” written on a building in the background. But the way the man is holding the women so closely and passionately kissing her leaves the viewer speechless. Do the two people even know each other? Was this picture planned? The photo answers so many questions while it evokes twice as many.

Rhetorical Situation: This picture is in black and white, suggesting its timelessness. The two people kissing are front and center, the focus of the photo. I think the purpose of this picture is to provide others with sympathetic feelings towards the people who fought so bravely during WWII. It could also suggest that love can be found anywhere and at any time. The audience that this picture was created for would be the veterans of WWII. However, the picture is easy to relate to so it is now for everyone, not just the fighters of that time period. Everyone is smiling in the picture so the tone seams positive; perhaps love struck.

Analysis Model: Why are these two people kissing? They look like they come from two different worlds; what is bringing them together? I think they are in fact different, but they share to common joy of returning home from war with all of their limbs and a healthy heart still pumping. Maybe they were lovers before that had lost each other during the months of battle, but now they have returned and found each other. Though we don’t know for sure, these lovers seam to be meeting for the first time. They share a bond of war oppression and relief from finally returning home. To celebrate, they embrace with a passionate kiss that leaves the women breathless and the man heroic.

I.      Thesis: Though we don’t know for sure, these lovers seam to be meeting for the first time. They share a bond of war oppression and relief from finally returning home.

II.    Supporting Evidence #1:

o   The way they are dressed tells us when this event took place.

o   The women is in all white, dressed like a nurse

o   The man is in all black, maybe navy blue, dressed as a sailor

III  Supporting Evidence #2:

o   Everyone around them is grinning, showing us the end of an era that will change the world

o   The man on the left side of the picture, walking tall and proud

o   The group of women behind the kissers, the women’s friends? They look one with smiles, perhaps some jealousy.

o   The man on the right side of the picture. Why is he cut off? Who is he? The women’s real lover? Perhaps a friend of theirs?

IV   Supporting Evidence #3:

o   The passion that is shown is real, whether they know each other or not.

o   The man pulls at the women’s dress.

o   The women’s body is leaning at an angle that forms directly to the man’s.

o   It looks like the man is doing the kissing; did the women want to be kissed? Is she fighting against him or melting in his embrace?

V.     Conclusion:

o   Whether the two people that are the focus of this picture are meeting for the first time or the 100^th time, they show us true passion and provide hope for veterans and new generations of people alike. 

Analysis Rough Draft

WWII Picture

Title

            Words aren’t always needed to show others how you feel. This picture is a perfect example of being speechless but still crystal clear about your emotions. As the lips of the two people meet, the audience is overcome with feelings of passion, hope and relief. Though we don’t know for sure, these lovers seam to be meeting for the first time. However, they share a bond of war oppression and relief from finally returning home. These common denominators provide these two people with some ground to base their eternal relationship on.

            This photograph was taken at a specific moment in our nation’s history, but the feelings and emotions captured seem timeless. The clothing worn in the photo shows us that the image was taken at the end of WWII. Though the picture is in black and white, it is clear that the woman is dressed in white from head to toe. Her nurse’s uniform is pressed and clean, suggesting purity. She has sensible shoes on her feel and her hair is pinned back; she doesn’t seam like the kind of girl who kisses random men. The sailor, on the other hand, is dressed in black or perhaps navy blue, colors that suggest rebellion and mischief. So how did these two come to cross paths?  Is it coincidence that the man chose this innocent woman to plant a kiss upon? In the heat of the moment, the excitement must have overcome both of them and soon, they were embraced in the most romantic and famous kiss of all time.

            If the emotions of hope could be written down, this whole picture would be covered in those words. All the faces have that are visible from the audience’s point of view have smiles stretching across them. People were happy at this point in time. The war was finally over, so they were all coming home to greet their loved ones and return to their normal lives. The people that surround the famous couple walk proud and tall. The man on the left side of the picture is dressed in a white sailors uniform, complete with his cap and a grin. Behind the lovers is a group of young girls. They look like they are gossiping about the kiss, but they too are smiling. Perhaps they are friends with the women and they are waiting to hear the details of the embrace. Or maybe they are jealous that the man hadn’t picked one of them. There is one mysterious character: a man, standing so close to the camera that his face is cut off. With his hands on his hips and his weight on his back foot, he doesn’t seam as excited to be witnessing the kiss.  His clothes don’t match the medium of the picture; he isn’t dressed in a uniform, but instead, sports slacks and a button up shirt, hidden by a jacket. We can’t see if he is smiling or frowning. Is he another lover? Or maybe a brother or father figure?

            A kiss can be measured in time and meaning, but also in enthusiasm. This man clearly feels strongly for this women, be it lust or love. As he pulls her close to him and dips her as if in dance, she angles her body, completing the puzzle that is their love. Her heal comes off the ground, a classic sign that she is being seriously kissed. The man pulls at the nurse uniform to bring himself merely inches closer, just enough to complete the embrace. But he appears to be doing the all of the work. Did the woman invite him or did he come on to her without permission? Is she struggling to get free or melting in his embrace? With the smiles on the faces around the couple, we can safely assume that the feelings between the two are mutually positive.

            Whether the two lovers are meeting for the first or the 100^th time, they show us true passion and provide hope for veterans and new generations of people alike. Out of darkness, can come light; a positive from a negative.

 


my conclusion needs a lot of help. I'm just not sure where to end this...

Tuesdays...

Have you ever been bowling at three in the afternoon? Neither had I untill yesterday. My friend Will and I were bored and we came to an agreement that bowling would be a sufficient time waster. When we arrived at the ally, the parking lot was a ghost town. "Think its open?" Will asked. I was sure that it was. We parked and ventured in. "Two shoes and a lane please," I called to the smiling man behind the counter. He happened to be one of the two other people that were there. The place was ours. We got lane number one and sat down to put on our shoes. The two toned toe protectors were almost as attractive as the bowling balls we combed through to find our perfect match. With no one else there, we were able to choose any one we wanted from the collection. As we began our games, there was no pressure from pros in the next lane, or loud, snobby kids who didn't want to leave. It was just the two of us. Not that the privacy improved out scores. Game one: 115 to 125, Game two: 76 to 104. Needless to say, we didn't bowl very often. When we threw poorly, the curse words would stream from our mouths without hesitation. No one was around to judge us. And when we bowled strikes, a small but fearless dance party would break out. After two games, we cashed out and went to Dairy Queen for a small reward. The moral of the story? If your a terrible bowler and need some practice, go in the afternoon on a Tuesday, you will be the only one there.

Movie Analysis

EasyA

A quick summary: When Olive Penderghast lies to her friend about her promiscuity, before she can blink, her whole school is under the impression that she is a tramp who will do anything they ask of her. As Olive’s life spirals out of her control, she looks to various leaders to help her pull all back together.

My initial reaction of this movie was that it was hilarious. Good humor helps Olive survive her misery as the new school tramp. As she retorts at the accusations of others, the audience cant help but laugh at her various situations. The comedy provides relief in the sticky situations.

Questions: Why doesn’t Leanne listen to Olive when she tries to explain the truth?

Why is Olive such a generous person? She takes the weight from a lot of people and puts it on her own shoulders.

Why are her parents sooo cool?

Rhetorical Analysis: Why is Olive such a generous person?

She was raised by her parents to be accepting and adventurous, making her well adjusted to take care of others.

Olive is a well adjusted teenager because her parents raised her to be accepting of all people and to handle sticky situations well. This helps Olive stay positive and be generous when others need her help.

Some evidence to support this is that when her friend Brandon is beat up repeatedly for his preference of homosexuality, Olive graciously agrees to help him “stick it to the man” and regain some status within their high school. 

Movies

Today in class we watched an old Horror movie called Halloween. It was made in the late 1970s and is about a crazy person who kills a bunch of innocent people on Halloween night. I am not a scary movie fan so I wasn't interested in watching this movie. I would much rather sit through a Disney Princess movie. Its not that I love little kid stuff, but I much more enjoy a happy ending. To name a few of my favorites, Swan Princess, Beauty and the Beast, and Little Mermaid. Some of my more grown up favorites include She's the Man, John Tucker Must Die, and The Twilight Movies. All very girly, I know. But I like what I like. Im also a fan of Office Space, Jumper, and The Lord of The Rings Trilogy, so don't think that I'm just a girly girl.
If I had to rate Halloween, I would give it a three out of five. The story was frightening but the quality of the film was old and took away from the tension. However, I do look forward to talking about the film on Thursday.

Comic Analysis

1. Initial Impression: This comic is in Manga form. Manga is the Japanese version of American comics. The art is very different but it has specific qualities that are important to the way it works. These comics are read from the back to the front or the book.

            I like this comic because it centers on a young girl and her teen romances. But the twist is that each character has a strong connection to their zodiac sign and is affected by each other.

2. Rhetorical Analysis: The purpose of this comic is to show that people are more than just faces. We have deeper connections to our zodiacs than we may think and these connections change the course of our lives. We may butt heads with others who share the same sign. But we may also fall in love with someone who has a sign that complements our own. This comic brings out feelings of romance, hope, and conflict. All these feelings compiled create a great story. The intended audience for Fruit’s Basket is definitely teenage girls. The story revolves around love and friendship, two themes in every girl’s life. The tone is love sick and sweet.

3. Analysis question: Why is the girl so smitten with the boy in this comic?

I think she likes him because they have a deeper zodiac connection with each other, even if they are unaware of it.

The two main characters in Fruit’s Basket have a deep connection with each other because of their zodiac signs. The two of them never fight and they have an understanding between them that brings peace into the hectic house they live in. 

Analyzing Comics

V for Vendetta and Constellations

1.     What do you notice about the speech bubbles/text boxes?

The bubbles in “V” are all jagged in the beginning because it is the voice of a radio. In some ways, it becomes the narrator to the beginning of the comic. We are giving a glimpse of what this world is like.

The bubbles in “Constellations” are round and a warm green color. They have a completely different connotation than the bubbles in “V”. These bubbles seem happier and less mature than the “V” bubbles.

2.     What do you notice about the pictures?

The pictures in “V” are very realistic cartoons. The people have details of actual humans, as opposed to round, childlike cartoon characters. Also, the colors are very vibrant.

The picture in “Constellations” looks amateur compared to those in the other comic. There are many details but the art is more round and unrealistic. Faces are shaped in more abstract ways.

3.     What do you notice about the color or texture of the images?

            The images look to be drawn with a pencil, lots of little lines and shading. But they are very saturated with colors.

      In “Constellations” the images are very detailed with color, lines and shading. Everything has a pattern.

4.     What do you notice about the characters?

            There seams to be two main characters in “V”, a blond women who looks like she is going to go out somewhere at night, and a man who wears a mask. Both characters are introduced in the very beginning of the comic, leading us to believe that they have something to do with each other.

            There are two girls, probably pre teen aged

5.     What do you notice about the setting?

            The radio announcer in the beginning of “V” tells us that the story takes place in London. However, it doesn’t appear to be the same London as real life. This place has food regulations and is constantly being watched by cameras that are placed on lampposts. This London doesn’t look like a very happy place.

            The setting is in one of the girls backyards, lots of trees and the camper make it a comfortable place.

6.     What do you notice about the way the text and pictures work together?

            The radio voice seams to loom over top of the picture, like a blanket of depression. For each frame of story, there seams to also be at least one moment of dialogue.

            The dialogue is conversational and easy to follow. The text sets up the scene for the comic. The text font is youthful and girly, showing us who is talking and what they are like. 

The Crucible

My sister is in the play at my old high school. This year, they are producing the Crucible, a story of  women, played by my sister, that starts the series of witch trials and hangings. The Crucible is a classic, well known, and spectacular piece of American literature. Though it isn't a happy story, this play takes hours or work and dedication to make it great. Tonight I will be witnessing the dress rehearsal because I am unable to attend the main event. I'm excited to watch my younger sister perform in the thing she was born to do.
Miranda, my sister, has always been an actress, although when she was younger, it was more like a drama queen. The extremes of her behavior kept my parents constantly guessing.  She was usually a happy kid, but often times, her excitement bordered on the crazy side. And when she was mad, there was no telling what she would do. But we all loved her, regardless of her actions.
But now she has found the theater. there, she can shine like the stars while she performs with ease. I love her dearly and I'm very excited to watch her grow into a famous actress.

Poetry

On Thursday, we are supposed to bring in a poem and piece of art to class that we want to write about. However, I wont be in class that day so I have decided to do it now instead.

dear love,

BY BARBARA JANE REYES

you dream in the language of dodging bullets and artillery fire.

new, sexy diagnoses have been added to the lexicon on your behalf

(“charlie don’t surf,” has also been added to the lexicon on your behalf).

in this home that is not our home, we have mutually exiled each

other. i walk down your street in the rain, and i do not call you. i

walk in the opposite direction of where i know to find you. that we

do not speak is louder than bombs.

 

there are times that missing you is a matter of procedure. now is

not one of those times. there are times when missing you hurts. so

it comes to this, vying for geography. there is a prayer stuck in my

throat. douse me in gasoline, my love, and strike a match. let’s see

this prayer ignite to high heaven.

 

This picture was taken by my cousin, Jen Hawk. She is a young, talented photographer. I really like this picture because it shows trauma without the gore. It does a really nice job at foreshadowing a future full of hate, sadness, and pain. But at the edge of the hallway, there is a light. This light represents hope for these three refugees. 

The poem is about broken love. The two subjects are separated, perhaps not by choice, and to me, it sounds like one is calling out to the other. 

I put these two pieces together because I feel like the poem could be the man, calling out to his lover, the girl in the picture. They are apart because of societies mistakes, but he wants to remind her that his love still remains intact. 

 

Skiing

I'm on the Western Alpine Ski and Snowboard team here at western. Every weekend, our team travels to a different mountain and skis the whole weekend. Our weekends consist of listening to music all hours of the day and night, conversing with the other teams, and making great friends. Of course, those that are old enough also engage in an activity we call Partying, but that's a whole other story.
This weekend, I spent the majority of my time walking. First I walked to the car before we even left. Then, when we got to the mountain, we had to park the car far away and walk back to the house. Then in the morning, we walked back to the car to get our snow gear. Next I walked my out of shape butt up the mountain to the chair lift. I snowboarded and did my race for a while, but later found myself walking to the lodge for lunch. Then I found some of my friends and sauntered my way back to the car. We went out again later and the whole day repeated itself again. Sunday rolled around and after a grand total of ten hours of sleep all weekend, walking was really getting on my nerves. I was so tired that every time we stopped on the hill, I laid on the snow. Finally when we got to the car, I slept most of the three hours home. Sounds like a great weekend right? haha It actually was. I met some really cool people and got to hang out with my buddies on the team. We are going out again this coming weekend and I am counting down the days. Even if it means more walking.

A Chapter of my Memoir

Chemistry 

            Days went by and I always looked to the front of the science room to see if Ben was sitting there, but he never was. I felt like a part of me was lost and I needed to find it before I went crazy. I missed him, even though we were only friends – though I hoped someday to be more. I missed the careless attitude he always had and the twinkle in his eye that made it seam like he was getting into trouble. I wanted so badly to see him. But patience was all I had to keep control of myself; I knew he had to come back sometime.

            Ten school days later, he was there. Sitting right up front of our dingy science room, he reclined in the metal chair with crutches on the floor to his right and a gray cast on his left leg. He was talking to our teacher, Mrs. Wiltse, about making up all of his missed work.

            “You really missed a lot,” she told him.” I’m not sure you can make up everything and you’re going to be very behind so you won’t know what’s going on most of the time.”

            “Yea, I know, but I’ve gotta try. I just want to pass this class; I don’t need an A or anything. Could we work that out?” As he bargained with our teacher, people continued to file in. Soon Ben wasn’t asking questions any more, now he was the main event and people bombarded him with all the inquiries.

            “Does it hurt?”

            “Can you walk on it?”

            “How long were you at the hospital?”

            “Did they give you Vicodin? Can I have some?”

            “How was the food?”

            This continued until Mrs. Wiltse made everyone sit down so we could get the lesson going. We had to do a lab that day and no one wanted to stay after, so grudgingly, we all moved to our seats.

            Once released to begin the lab, I made my move. Ben was trapped, talking to all of our classmates, still at the front of the room. I quickly walked over and interrupted by asking if he wanted to be partners. He looked relieved and agreed. I flitted around him, grabbing materials and chemicals, while he crutched his way to our work bench at the back of the room.

            “So your finally back,” I said to him, not a question or a comment, but somewhere in between.

            “Well yea, I’m here aren’t I?” he replied.

            He sounded grumpy, as if he needed sleep and was sick of talking, or maybe just sick. I tried to be more gentle.

            “Well it’s nice to see you. I felt like you were gone forever.”

            “Why didn’t you come visit me?” he asked me, a wrinkle of concern darkened his brow.

            To this, I didn’t know what to say. Had he expected to see me? Was I supposed to have gone to see him? I didn’t know our friendship was that strong.

            “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know which hospital you were in,” I lied. “Plus I’m sure you had tons of people in there. You wouldn’t have wanted me there anyways.”

            He became quiet. I bit my lip; maybe I had said the wrong thing. That must not have been what he wanted to hear.

            “You could have at least called.” He said as he stared right at me. His eyes locked with mine and I felt a flutter in my stomach. He had wanted me to come see him and I had let him down. I could have kicked myself for not calling him. Bashfully, I told him I was sorry again and we began to do the lab.

More Work Towards My Memoir

Writing Prompt:

State the Situation: Geometry class, sophomore year

Adults: Mrs. Acker, the teacher, desperately trying to teach a class of fifteen and sixteen year-olds how to measure triangles and rhombuses. Passing out tickets for those of us who completed our homework.

Describing the setting: New, classroom, cold desks, cold room, buzzing with teen spirit, in the new basement, bright sun outside, spring

Who is there: Me, working on classwork but desperately needing help. Ben, sleeping through class till I ask him for help. Mike, the class flirt, boys hate him, girls love him, the smart kid. Merrin, the other women, always a diligent worker.

A close up of myself: I am Fifteen, trying to attract as much attention as possible. Usually had boyfriends. lots of friends.

Sate a law, rule, or expectation: Ben slept through class and had no interest in me, math or anyone in that class. (or so i thought)

What happened:

Day after day, we came to class with our homework mostly done. Mrs. Acker would put the answers up on the overhead project and we would all right down the ones we had skipped from the night before. My main focus was always talking to people, I was a social butterfly. I cant remember who I sat by so it must not have been a boy; you know how it is to be sixteen.

Many of my friends were in that class. In front of me sat Mike, a tall dark boy who hung with the girls. We liked him because he was hot, he liked us because we would flirt with him. Secretly we all wondered if her was gay, but only the boys said that out loud. At the table to my left was a blond boy. I had seen him around our small high school but we had never spoken before. He was tall and thin with bright blue eyes that we rarely saw because he was always passed out on his desk. I became jealous of him. How could he sit there and doze off while I worked hard to get good grades? It wasnt fair. 

During work time we sat in groups where gossip always trumped geometry. How we got anything done is beyond me...

Writing Prompt(s)

Moments Interrogation: pick three

Ben

Where did this take place? High school, sophomore year

Who was there? Wiltse's intro class, Kelsey, Merrin (Ben's original set up) All the other couples (beth and mike, kelsey and mike)

What are the significant objects? Ben's broken leg, rube gold-burg project, desks in the back of the room

What colors are present? Black Science Table Tops, Gray Cast, Green Grass

What textures are present? Velcro on the boot, smooth table tops,

What smells and tastes? Stiff/stale air (from lack of use) in math classroom, Science room: smell of chemicals, Bunsen burners.

What metaphors cant I make? When Ben came back: someone (god?) flipped a switch and i was in love.

What is the light or darkness? thank goodness Merrin said no to Ben and vise versa. he broke his leg=bad, but in turn, it brought us together.

Choose two characters to describe: Ben and Myself

Names of characters: Ben and Rachael

assign them an object: Ben = broken leg (crutches, titanium rod in his leg, cast/boot, screws, ibuprofen with codeine)

Rachael = Brains (helped Ben to catch up, recover, fall in love)

List physical ticks, defects, flaws: Ben = broken leg, always tired (from meds), saying things he cant remember now (marriage) 

Rachael = Falling easily for him, not a "go getter"

Write some lines of non-generic dialogue:

"why are you all dressed up?" he asked me, but he slurred the words a bit because of his heavy medications.

I had a soccer game that day and it was a team tradition to get gussied up for home games. While I explained this to him, he began to play with the ring on my right hand. After spinning it around my chubby finger a couple of times, he pulled it off and looked up at me. With his head resting on his arms, crossed on the black table top, he said "You should wear it on this finger." He then slid the tiny silver ring onto my left hand, surprising me by choosing the ring finger. "Rachael, we should get married," he suggested. I laughed out of nervousness - he had to be joking right? - but then said "Sure Ben, that sounds nice."

 

This is a writing exercise prompting by English teacher. Maybe some time you guys will see the completed work...