• Log In
  • Log In
Slate (skeleton-v3 PHP 8 prototype)
Slate (skeleton-v3 PHP 8 prototype) Learn · Create · Lead
  • Students
    • Mission and Vision
  • Parents
  • Community
    • Mission and Vision
  • Calendar

English 2 - Block Public Feed

Create a Post

LanguageAutobiography: Does language determine you?

Posted by Aateeyah Sharrieff in English 2 - Block on Monday, January 14, 2013 at 6:48 pm

In this unit of english class,​ we worked on autobiography's about what language means to us. I wrote about what language was like for me growing up and how language has a lot to do with your everyday life and how people view you.

When I was in elementary school, I always wondered why people made fun of the way I spoke. They told me it was because I talked “white”. “What does talking “white” even mean I thought to myself?” The way I speak isn’t the way they were raised to When I asked my mom, I remember her telling me that it meant that I was educated and that I didn’t talk like a normal “black” person. I asked her “does that mean black people aren’t educated”? I knew that my mom was educated, she finished college and got her masters degree and she’s part black. So I knew that couldn’t be true. Most people in my family finished college. Whites still overruled blacks in education. In this society, that’s the way it appeared. More white’s finished college, or even went to college than blacks did. That’s the way it’s always been in America.

As I grew up, all I was told by my peers was that “you talk like a white girl”. I started playing soccer when I was nine or ten years old, and to my african american peers, that was a “white sport”. I listened to songs that were sung by people that were white also. That gave them a bigger reason to call me a white girl. To them, everything I did or said was “white”. They thought playing basketball was a “black sport” so I played to fit in with everyone else. I barely got any playing time, but being apart of the basketball team at my middle school was all I needed to make me seem black. Everything was categorized at my school before I came to high school. I learned to embrace the way I talked.

When I was in 8th grade, I was attending a dominantly african american school. There were less than five students that were of another race. All of the kids there barely spoke proper english. Most spoke broken english, even the teachers, principal and other staff members. Everyday in the school there was a physical fight or close to it. In a private school I thought, there wouldn’t be any fights. The closest thing to a fight would be a argument. I had never experienced that type of environment before. It was different for me because in my household, no one talks broken english, but soon I caught on to the way they talked at my school if I wanted to fit in. But when I was home or around family, I spoke the way i was taught to. Speaking differently than the way I was raised was discriminated against in my household. It was like either you speak the way you are supposed to, or don’t speak at all.

Most of the people I knew growing up stereotyped different races. Each race had a certain way of talking and doing things. My friends portrayed blacks as being loud and ghetto all of the time. In some cases to me, that is true. Despite me being part black, that’s not the way my family acts not that wasn’t the way they were raised. But that being said, the white part of family did act the way others stereotype them. They all spoke properly, ate crackers and cheese and other things along that line. Owned big fancy houses and cars. Had well paying jobs and spoiled children. But that never affected me because I live in a big fancy house, my family has nice cars and I am also spoiled. So to me it didn’t matter what color you are, it’s how you were raised to act. The people I grew up around definitely had a huge impact on me and they are part of the reason why I am who I am today.

I recently read an article on language by James Baldwin. In the article, he discussed how “black” english contributes to standard english and that black english plays a big part in how we all speak today. “People evolve a language in order to describe and thus control their circumstances, or in order not to be submerged by a reality that they cannot articulate.” - James Baldwin. In this quote, he is saying that in different places, people speak a certain way to fit in. You wouldn’t speak the same way you speak to your friends while you are in a workplace. People have to switch the way they talk to meet the criteria of certain situations or will be looked at differently.

People are always going to be discriminated and talked about by others who speak differently than they do. But if everyone talked the same, there would be no diversity among us. Every person would be looked at the same.

The way you talk in this world determines who you are to some people. To me, thats not how I think of others. You could be well educated and still speak broken english. Or you could be uneducated and speak better than someone with a college degree. The color of your skin, or even where you come from should determine your class.

In the world, the way you speak determines your place, only if you let it.



Here is the link to my video.




language autobiography from Aateeyah Sharrieff on Vimeo.

Be the first to comment.

Language Autobiography 2013: Is it necessary for all to "fit in"?

Posted by Betty Louis in English 2 - Block on Monday, January 14, 2013 at 6:40 pm

In this project it was required that each student picks a theme about language that interest them. It could be bad or good they can decide but in that they must help the reader to understand what they are trying to say and relate it to their life. It could be a past experience, scene, or even what's happening in society/the world today. In that you must intertwine it with larger analysis that leads but to a broader idea and add your own reflection. Each student would have to incorporate one descriptive scene along with deeper thoughts and analysis. 

In today’s society it is looked at that to make it one must blend in with the ‘popular and superior’ crowd and allow one’s life to fit that crowd. When the topic of language is raised, English is the most commonly spoken in the US obviously and standard English seems to be the most professional language of all. When living in the US it was something that seemed to be ‘normal’ and ‘natural’ as if being different in that sense is wrong...

In elementary school I never really thought about such a thing much. All I knew and understood was that now that I’m in Philly, away from most of my family English would be the language I’d hear the most and speaking it for me wasn’t an option; I had to. I never was exposed to the thought of how speaking a different language that may be foreign to others could be a bad thing until that day...

My mother had decided to pick me up from school that day and I was happy to have her walk me home and have that sense of security. While walking I noticed some kids who go to the same school as I did walking also on the other side of the road. Two little boys about that same age as I was (about 7). After I noticed their presence my mom called my attention and said in a voice only I hear “Ki jan jou ou te pasé?” (How was your day?) “It was good” I told her. Then her phone rang and she picked up. It was my dad. What I noticed was that she was talking english with him when usually when it comes to him she speaks her home language. Creole. A language which Haitians speak. Then soon I realized it was because she was trying to explain to him how to communicate with his boss at a more professional english level that he asked her advice for. I wondered if everything was alright.

At the corner of my eye I could see and hear the kids snickering say that “she sounds Jamaican” as if there was a problem even if she was. One actually had the nerve to ask with a smirk on his face if she was one. On the phone my mom didn’t notice but I was so mad I yelled “shut up you african booty scratcher! You ugly too!” but with that I did also felt embarrassed. On the phone my mom was loud which made it easy for people a block away to hear her accent. But she’s my mother and no matter how loud she may be it would never change the importance and impact she has had on my life.  

Though she wasn’t from here she made an effort to try and speak the language that was foreign to her and it was bad  that most didn’t even notice that. Too bad back then, I was too young to understand that. But because of that it is to be felt that many with accents aren’t taken seriously when needed because they don’t speak or sound like they’re speaking ‘proper english’. But as I got older and really looked at the American society I came to realize that its prejudice, injustice and more. For example I remember awhile back, my mom ordered a pepperoni pizza on the phone and it was on speaker so I eavesdropped onto the conversation. It was because of my mother's accent the person constantly asked my mother to repeat what she was saying as if she was speaking a different language. On top of that they took forever to deliver. When I ordered the pizza and said the exact thing’s my mother said the last time because I don’t have that much of an accent they understood me and the delivery came under 30 minutes which confuzzles me.

  Even though she had an accent in the end the workers were able to understand what she was saying because we got what she asked for but why give me different service than her? It has been called to my and many others attention that some people in society feel as those people with hard accents aren’t truly educated and can be easily taken advantage of many things such as their disability to speak standard english. Which isn’t true at all. If one were to take a survey of who agrees with this quote ‘one shouldn’t judge a book by it’s cover’ many would agree but I feel as though society has never even tried to live up to that expectation. 

All leading up to what I’m trying to say. It isn’t fair for someone to be treated differently just because you don’t understand them. There are other ways to communicate and to automatically assume they aren’t able to have the same skills or intelligence that you have doesn’t sound right or possible humane.. There is such a thing as being open-minded and I believe if more people were able to think it that matter thing would be a lot better. I read a piece by Bell Hooks that is titled "this is the oppressor's language/yet I need it to talk to you":Language, a place of struggle” and that quote means a lot of things. One, she explains how originally Africans weren’t meant to speak English as they do now. It was because when in the time of slavery where they were taken from their homeland, there was so many different Blacks from many different tribes and areas in Africa, with their own type of language that it was complex to communicate with one another, especially their new masters. So they were forced to learn and speak under the language of their oppressor which is what we all know as to be English. It still amazes me till this day of that effect and the same thing happens till this day to foreigners who come to America hoping for opportunity and along that process are stripped of their identity by being forced to speak English and forget about what they use to speak. 

All I can say about my true ethnicity is that its special just like any other kind of race or culture. It shouldn’t be judged because of its differences from other. in fact it should be looked at in the opposite way because being different is what makes it unique and special. I just find it hard to believe but strongly agree that many have a problem accepting that notion. 


Outside Sources:

hooks, bell. Hooks on the Language of Power. New Learning. Web. 11 Jan 2013. <http://newlearningonline.com/literacies/chapter-6-critical-literacies/hooks-on-the-language-of-power/>. 


Baldwin, James. "If Black English Isn't a Language, Then Tell Me What Is."New York Times. (July 29, 1979): <http://www.nytimes.com/books/98/03/29/specials/baldwin-english.html>. 


Language Autobiography 2013: Is it necessary for all to "fit in"? from Betty Louis on Vimeo.

Tags: Language, English
Be the first to comment.

Language AutoBiography 2013: Language Reflects Who I am

Posted by Aaron Tang in English 2 - Block on Monday, January 14, 2013 at 2:20 pm

Throughout the past couple weeks in English class, we learned about languages that were spoken in different parts of the countries. We watched a video of people talking in at United States and we read four stories about the languages that affected them in their lives because of who they are. We wrote some short scenes of how languages had changed myself when people judge the way I talk to people. The next building block was writing an autobiographical paper that connects to life. We also had to pick a quote from one of the four stories we’ve read and connect them to our personal life. My story is about how languages influence my self and my family at home versus outside. I wrote how languages are very important to the family even though we live in a society where people judge the way we talk.


There are so many different issues with my languages spoken at home and how I speak outside changes who I am because I will need to speak formally towards the older ones. At home, I don’t really care of how I talk towards my family members. If I speak rudely, people will think about my personality. It shows that my mom does not appreciate the way I always neglect speaking in Chinese, and it interferes with our communication when I don’t know a lot of words. I speak two languages; Cantonese and English. There has been numerous times when my mom speaks poor English. I have my own standard language when I may have an accent in Cantonese. I knew what I can say, but the pronunciations were horrible. This mainly affects me because of the languages I speak with my friends versus the dialects spoken with my family members inside that closed doors of my house. At home my family members often tend to correct my Chinese, but when they speak in english its my turn. Many times my sister and I will correct them and it help them have a better understanding with English.

Most of the time, I switch dialogues with my family members, and I end up merging the two languages together into a different language that ends up a blend of both English and Cantonese. An example of this type of situation would be when, one day I was walking down the street with my friends, while my phone vibrated. It was my mom. I picked up the phone and I heard her say “Where is you.” I know how to say that in Cantonese “nay hay bien dou? I ignored her mistake because I knew what she was talking about.“ I’m with my friends....” I switched my language to cantonese so she can understand, “no toun pién yûo hay Movie Theater.” I dislike the feeling of switching back and forth because the languages, makes it harder for me to expand the knowledge of speaking both. Then my mom says “Me pick you up? I meet you at daycare with brother and sister.” I quickly responded, “please talk better in English and I will meet you there in 15 minutes.”

I realized that I was a little harsh my with mother because she tried her best speaking with English to my siblings and myself. My mother didn’t go to college in America nor her hometown. My mother didn’t have enough money for her education and she tries to speak with us more where I respected her knowledge of knowing some english. I was happy for her, but she felt she needed to step up her game of learning more English. I also struggled with English when writing and talking to my friends. Its stereotypical thing when people say asians suck at grammar mistakes. I strongly agree with this and sometimes I don’t because people can work their way on improving. For example I don’t know when to use “has” or “have” in correct terms. Thus, the only solutions for myself is to try to talk often in English and ask people to politely correct my grammar. I pushed myself to my limits where I need to figure out improving with our grammar mistakes in my family. The only ways we can improve is having a conversation with each other, or start reading more novels to pick the English. Cantonese is more complex; there’s pin yin and chinese characters. There are tones on top of the pin yins and the words will mean differently. Thus, I may be losing the knowledge of speaking Cantonese slowly. I asked my mom if she wanted to improve on English. She said yes because it will be better to have a conversation with my two younger siblings, whom unfortunately for them never learned to speak chinese. I realized that my mom never took time for her own education because she was always occupied taking care of us, but still, she was willing to learn. It took me couple days for myself to think about my ethnicity. For most Asians, they are passionate about achieving their expectations and they have to face a lot of expectations.

An example from a text that best coincides with my experiences is the article from “Mother Tongue” by Amy Tan she said “It has become our language of intimacy, a different sort of English that relates to family talk , the language I grew up with” (Page 1). This quote reflects my family and myself when I am influenced by them. As I grew older, I noticed that learning different languages are very important when speaking among the group of people. I may fluster with some words that I am unfamiliar with. Incorporating with the languages shows that I want to learn the languages and the culture of their identity. I realized that people adapt to how they talk where languages came from different parts of the area. I believe there’re no one right language. The languages evolve each generations; like the people from the past who talk in Cantonese are more traditional compare to the 21st century.

We are struggling with the grammatical structures of speaking and writing. I listened to my parents English and its wrong most of the time. All I need to do is work harder towards my English by getting help from my friends. Society shows that there are some circumstances between English because people tend to pronounce the words differently. Different parts of the area will be a whole new world because of the strong accent or the background of the person. My parents were not from here and they had to adapt to the society of the language they speak. Now my siblings and I will need to balance the two languages we spoke because of the cultural language is an unique ideal to have its own meaning.There for, Cantonese has been passed down by each generation where the language is a secret value to my family lives. When the language dies off, our generations will forget the language, we speak today in our family.

 

Language English from Aaron Tang on Vimeo.

​Bibliography:

Tan , Amy. "Mother Tongue." Home is Where the Heart Dwells. N.p.. Web. 11 Jan 2013. <https://blogs.law.harvard.edu/guorui/2008/02/06/mother-tongue-by-amy-tan/>.   
Tags: Language, "English
Be the first to comment.

Language Autobiography 2013: The Journey

Posted by Amy Chen in English 2 - Block on Monday, January 14, 2013 at 2:07 pm

Introduction and Reflection:

This unit, we had been talking about how language affects us. How people view slang, how accent are different in every country. We were given a project to write an essay about how language is related in real life. We had to write an autobiography of how language affects us. A lot of people view slang differently; some people thought that slang is for African American people. Other views it as a way that people talk around their environment. I learned that language is an obstacle that I had to face and it took a part of me and it gain a part of me. I also learn that language can also be stereotype by different race. 

Overall I could have done better because I could add more powerful descriptive scene. However, I believe that this Language essay open me up and make me thing that my story is finally being told. Also I can put this story as something people can learn from. It makes people realize that bullying someone because they have an accent can really change them. It also makes them reflect on their action. Thinking about how powerful language is, it really can bring out the negative image. The hardest part of this project is the “Reflection” because they are so much to be told but a limited on how much can be told. 

The Journey


I was born and raised in New York, Brooklyn. I was taught to speak Chinese first and English second. However, throughout my journey as I grow older, I was quadrilingual. I learned how to speak Mandarin, Cantonese, Foochow and English. When someone asked me, “How am I doing?” I can answer in Mandarin “wu hao” or Cantonese “wo ho” or Foochow “loy hall.” I have an accent when I speak English and I used to get bullied due to this problem. Every time a word came out my mouth, people would say, “I don’t understand you, what the hell are you speaking?” and they will go into making racist jokes. From my experience, I view Language as an obstacle that everyone has to face because the struggle of language brings out the negative image.  

During third grade, every time I tried to talk to someone or ask a teacher a question, I would hear giggling behind my back, people whispered, “What is she saying, does the teacher even understand her?” I start to stutter as words start to come out my mouth. My voice will slowly echo away, until my teacher says, “Amy! Speak louder! I can’t hear you!” At that moment, I nodded my head and stayed silent. Sometime I would get so angry and grip my fist under my table because I’m not fighting back. The smell around my table smell like sour sweat, sour feet sweat, and rotten apple. Sometime I wanted to say, "Why you stink?" I wanted to fit in so I started to talk more often and made fun of other people. I would say stuff like, “why is your head so big? You stink, you need to shower, your stupid.” Sometime when a teacher asks me to stop talking, I reply, “No, shut up” and go straight back to talking.

I started to help them by helping them on homework, letting them copy, and allowing them to cheat on my tests. I know these things were wrong to do, but they guaranteed a friendship between them and I. This fat kid said, “Amy, go punch that kid,” I was hesitating, I wanted to back up but I couldn’t, I went and punched that kid. I heard cheering behind my back and I felt proud. My mouth suddenly open and my smile got bigger. I walked back to my table feeling proud. I realize that I’m finally fitting it. I’m finally not alone. Ever since that day, I started to sit around these kids, laugh and joke around. Sometimes they will make fun of my accent but will soon say, “Amy, you know I’m joking.” Throughout third grade, people will come up to me and say, “Amy, you changed, what happen to you? I thought you were a good kid, not those kind of kids who will hang around people who gets into fights or even got locked up before.” I didn’t know how to respond to that because I thought I wasn’t doing anything wrong.



At home, I feel comfortable with whatever I speak because no one judges me. Most of the time, I speak English with my siblings. Most of the time when I am having conversation with my mom, I would speak English and she would get pissed and reply in Foochow, “loy meohite new gon se mal. New soon gon se mal. New á bit loy meohite loy me tawn enou.”  (I don’t understand you. What are you trying to say? I don’t know English that well.) Soon my mom will start to lecture me that when I go to china, it’s a bad influence on us. It shows shame, you need to speak Chinese at home and English in school.

“Language is the sources of misunderstandings” by Antoine de Saint-Exupery People misunderstand basic on your accent. Sometime they fail to understand you and make fun of me. Many people misunderstand me because my pronunciation is not normal due to my accent.


In my neighborhood, people who are Chinese, look at me like I’m an outsider because I’m hanging out with white and black people.  They say that Chinese people need to speak Chinese and hangout with Chinese people only. Language influence the way I am, the people who I hang out with, and how others view me due to the group I am with. It makes me insecure of my identity.


Language affects the way we are today. It takes and added a part of who we are today. While losing and gaining these part that make us today, your race start to view you differently too. For an example while I was gaining a part which I never had before which was doing bad things that I knew that was wrong such as calling people names, talking their stuff and hiding it, people around my neighborhood who are Chinese are afraid of me because they believe that I will bully their child. They start to stereotype me basic on the people I am hanging out with.

The struggles of language bring out the negative image by doing negative things to fit in such as bullying others, hanging out with the wrong group and talking back to teachers. I noticed that people who have stronger accent are often bully and made fun of because they are not view as normal people and they are also view as weak people.

Citation:

Moncur, Micheal. "The Quotations Page

." The Quotations Page . N.p.. Web. 13 Jan

2013. <http://www.quotationspage.com/quote/37833.html>.


 

LangVideo AmyChen from Amy Chen on Vimeo.

Be the first to comment.

Language Autobiography 2013: The Standard English vs. Slang Dilemma

Posted by Stephen Eager-White in English 2 - Block on Monday, January 14, 2013 at 1:46 pm

Stephen White
Iron Stream

Introduction: In this unit my stream learned about language and how it affects people's lives. We were assigned a project that was called our Language Autobiography. In this assignment we were supposed to connect a story from another author and a story coming from our own life about language and how it affects our lives. This assignment was challenging for me but after a couple of drafts and outlines I think it's way better than what it was before, I'm proud of my language autobiography.



It was winter break and I was on the phone with my friend Jaaz. We were talking about the sixers and how they were folding in the fourth quarter. When my Grandmother overheard the conversation she told me to “speak like I have an education.”  She judged my language as a language of ignorance and unintelligence. I felt insulted. She made an assumption that has no connection to my intelligence.



Adolescents are regularly forced to speak a certain way. Just this Saturday I had a couple of friends over my house to play some video games and hang out. We were sitting in my living room playing NBA 2k13. The TV was blasting and the room had the aroma of pizza. Each of us were so glued to the T.V. that our seats were only a few feet away from the screen. While playing we got animated. Jumping up and down laughing, screaming, pointing, and arguing over a game. The game was so close and the pressure was on. My mom heard us speaking vernacular english and using slang terms that me and a couple of friends say often. Such as “that’s dead”, “drawlin’”, and “frying”. While we were talking about Jerry Stackhouse a basketball player who is no longer in his zenith. I said “Jerry Stackhouse? That’s dead.” My mom who also is a sports fanatic responded with “What? Speak regular.” We had to ease up on our vernacular english since my mom joined the conversation. I stated that “Jerry Stackhouse is buns, he’s like 70 still playing in the league. That’s dead.” We all started cracking up almost laughing out of our chairs. My mom seemed troubled. It was because in her mind I was speaking “ghetto” or “speaking without an education.” She made me speak the way she wanted me to speak.

Gloria Anzaldua was regularly forced to speak a certain way as an adolescent also. When she was younger she was caught speaking Spanish at recess when she wasn’t supposed to. Anzaldua was punished with three licks from a sharp ruler onto her knuckles. Her teachers didn’t like that she spoke Spanish when she was supposed to speak English she still had a Mexican accent. When she was older she was required to take two speech classes at Pan-American University to get rid of her accent. Anzaldua and I were both forced to speak a certain way because the people in power above us didn’t like it.

People’s intelligence shouldn’t be judged based on the way they speak. I believe this because the way I speak is a choice. When my Grandmother told me this winter break “speak like I have an education” I was judged that I am not intelligent but I choose to speak that way when I’m with my friends. We all speak a form of Jargon that wouldn’t be understood to the untrained ear of an adult. I believe that I’m intelligent and didn’t deserve to be judged because she didn’t understand what we’re speaking.

Gloria Anzaldua’s intelligence was also judged when she was younger. When she spoke Spanish in front of  her teachers when she was supposed to speak English they thought she wasn’t capable of speaking English and that she should “go back to Mexico where she belonged.” Both of us also speak a form of Jargon when we’re with our friends. The form of Jargon she speaks is called “Pachuco”. Pachuco is a language of rebellion and a secret language for adolescents to speak only. Some words from the secret language that my friends and I use are “that’s dead” which means that’s boring and “Frying” which mean I’m doing good in that area. Some words from Pachuco that she uses is “Ruca” which means girl or woman and “Vato” which means guy or dude. We both speak secret languages between us and our fellow adolescents.

Even though we speak different we are still communicating the same ideas. Even though I speak in a way that my Mom or any other adult doesn’t understand my friends still understand every word I say. My friends and I are fully capable of speaking Standard English but we speak our way because it’s a preference for when we’re comfortable. Anzaldua’s parents or teachers never would catch on to language of Pachuco because it wasn’t made for them. It’s both of our preferences and we or anyone else shouldn’t be identified as stupid or lacking of education because we have the ability to speak proper but just choose not to.

I see adolescents everyday being told to “speak this way” or “speak that way”. All that matters is that you know how to speak Standard English when it counts. The forms of English are infinite and you can’t force someone to change the way they speak and change their identity because you don’t like it. I believe we all should come to the agreement that we shouldn’t stereotype Standard English is for the educated, and Jargon is for the uneducated.



Anzaldua, Gloria. Borderlands/La Frontera. San Francisco: Aunt Lute Books, 1999. Print.

Spanish vs. English Dilemma from Stephen White on Vimeo.

Tags: Language, "English
Be the first to comment.

Political ad

Posted by Temperance Moore in English 2 - Block on Friday, November 9, 2012 at 8:13 am

Here's the link to my political ad.
Be the first to comment.

Descriptive essay (Revised)

Posted by Kaboni Bailey in English 2 - Block on Saturday, October 20, 2012 at 8:22 am

I’m not a female, but I dreamt of fish that night. How could a simple dream of fish falling from the sky affect the world that was about to collapse me spiritually and emotionally? The moment was one of such seriousness that it took minutes to tell me the news. I don’t know why I felt the need to brace myself, as if a pilot was about to land the plane of drought. My mother was sitting on her bed in her room; I was doing my homework when I heard my mother on the phone. At the time I did not care what and/or whom she was speaking to, up until I heard my cousins name called.

“OK Indigo, well, I . . .”

That was all I heard from my room before my mother shut her door. As I continued to do my homework, I thought of a couple times that Indigo and me had together. When we were kids playing “Def. jam fight for new york”, dressing up for Halloween and many more. Yet, I thought of what could be wrong to the point of my mother closing the door to block out the current conversation; I pondered this while finishing the last of my math questions. Then suddenly, I heard my mothers door creak open, not fully but wide enough to hear her mumble the words,

“Kaboni, Come here.”

I walked the 13 steps to my mother’s room, anxiously waiting for dreary news. As I stepped into her room, I noticed the smell of a recently lit Parliament cigarette, and the illusion of unhappiness. As I walked in the room, my mother sat on the lower left corner of her queen-sized bed, Indian position, and phone still in her ear. My mother had her face in one hand and her phone held on her ear by the other. As she looked up, I noticed an eerie look on her figure. The look on her face was of pure distraught and disappointment. She began to say,

“Promise not to,”

That is when an alarm went off in my head and I began to get scared for myself as well. She continued

“You know Indigo is almost 18 right? So, her choices are her choices, do you know that She has to live with what happened right?”

“Yea,” I started “but what’s going on?”

You could tell by the popping of smaller veins in her forehead that she was attempting to tell me the unbearable. At this moment, I recalled from my mind that Indigo was the child that had been through so much and still wound up on top. The child, who was abused and attacked on a daily basis, at home and on the streets, was the one who survived and became top of her class, the one who rose above the rest, the one who survived.  My mother collected herself and began to finish what she tried to speak about seconds ago. She repeated,

“KaBoni. Lord. Ok are you ready,” she said with teary eyes. “Indigo had a miscarriage,”

I was speechless. There were no words that could form in my never-ending mind of wows and wonders.  As stood in awe, the scenery around me seemed to enclose on my mentally lifeless body as I grasp the seriousness of the situation.

“The baby just decided to come out and they left her at the hospital, she had to push the baby herself.”

“But she was only Four months!” I extorted.

“I know but the baby came early and they do not know why. It was just very bad timing.”

I searched my brain for any clue or figure of a miscarriage: TV, movies or anything to help clear the picture that was missing the artist. There was none. The room was a depiction of darkness that reflected on the evil spirits upon my family. It was when my mother told me next that I realized how real the world was. She stated,

“ She got to hold the baby for an hour and a half before she died . . .”

In that moment, I realized that my child hood was none. I realized that my cousin lost her child because of staff that didn’t want to do their job. I realized that the world is actually an evil place. But in that moment, I decided to myself not to be swallowed whole by the spirits of Satan or the lust of Lucifer. I wanted to be better than the people that killed my cousin-to-be. At that moment, I decided to be what I was meant to be: a leader.

 

 

 

Be the first to comment.

Descriptive Essay: My sister Michelle

Posted by Amy Farrell in English 2 - Block on Thursday, October 11, 2012 at 12:17 pm

“Don’t worry” my sister  said, “ I’ll be home before you know it”. Those few words meant the world to me, but I knew I wouldn’t see her for another month. How could someone that looks this fine be so messed up?

It was a cold snowy day and I didn’t want to leave the warmth of the car. Also, I was terrified to enter yet another rehab. I used to think they were all the same, long hallways and lights that shine a little too bright, but this one was different. It was a large cabin in the woods. I was going there to visit my older sister. After I finally got the courage to go inside, I noticed the fresh smell of apple pie. The lighting was dim and soft, like a cozy house.

The second I saw my sister my heart dropped. She tackled me to the carpeted floor in front of everyone. We rolled around and cried our eyes out, so happy to be together again. When we realized an audience had gathered around us, we started laughing but we didn’t stop hugging. This was weird because we never really hugged before. After seeing her at that moment, I knew everything was going to be okay.

Little did I know she would relapse and overdose 2 weeks later.

I was always expecting that call. The call saying that something horrible had happened to her. I knew it would happen, but didn’t know when. Maybe I was just being overprotective. She meant the world to me, and if anything happened to her I don’t know what I would do. After she left rehab I assumed this would never happen. I was always afraid of her giving in and going back to drugs. I thought maybe this time was different. Maybe she would stay clean for me. I knew she wanted to, but I wasn’t sure if she was strong enough.

The day I finally got the call was one of the worst days of my life. I remember getting off the bus and entering my house.It was dead silent, and I knew something was wrong. Nobody was home. I looked at my phone and my mom called me. I answered immediately and heard the beeping of the hospital machines in the background. Before I knew it tears were streaming down my face, and my mom asked me to meet her at the hospital. I called my best friend and got on the bus crying my eyes out. I’m sure there were many eyes staring at me, but I didn’t care. When I got to the hospital, I saw her boyfriend in the waiting room, who got her addicted to heroin. He was asking if he could go see her, and that set me off. I started screaming at the top of my lungs at him and the security guards who were trying to hold me back. I saw Michelle and slowly walked over to her. The look on her face will haunt me forever.

How could she do this to me? She promised she wouldn’t do this again. I trusted her. She’s so young and innocent. She has so much more living to do. It all started when she was 13. She got mixed in with the wrong crowd, and it took off from there. My mom used to be an alcoholic, so I think my sisters way of dealing with that was to also drink. And once my mom noticed how messed up Michelle was, it caused her to drink more. It was a never ending cycle. I don’t remember when my mom stopped drinking, but Michelle never stopped. She made it a point to try every drug possible. By the age of 19 she was already in rehab twice. By 20 she was in there at least 5 times. I don’t know why she doesn’t want to get better. She’s always been very depressed, and I think this is an escape for her.
Today, she’s 21 and addicted to heroin. She could be doing so much better than this. I had so much faith in her to get help and recover, but all that faith is almost gone. She means the world to me, and I would do anything for her. I want her to see that she is loved, but she has trampled all over my love from time to time.   I just don’t know how much longer I can do this.
Be the first to comment.

Whats Life Holds For Me

Posted by Pierce Meier in English 2 - Block on Wednesday, October 3, 2012 at 10:12 pm

I wonders when change would come and make life different for me it was just like it was yesterday, I was on my mac going on to youtube just wanted to know what new videos were up from my favorite youtuber smosh After that I watch a lot of other video and i thought to myself "what if I could do that" and then I went on iMovie not knowing what I would make but just wanted to try to be funny and fun on camera and I did a video and then edited it to see what it was like and when I looked at it I thought it might not be good enough. a few weeks later I had a friend over at my house paling games and then I went on the computer and ask my friend if He would watch a video I made, he said "ok" and I showed him and he said to me "this is good are you going to put this on youtube and I did put it on and I got 100 views in 1 week and i fought it would not be good but it was good but it was good when I saw the comments and the likes I thought I may or may not have good talent because I thought I could never do anything like this in my whole life. 3 weeks passed and I went on the computer again I checked how the video was doing and I saw it had about 700 views and I thought at the moment that "ok I am getting more popular on the internet I might just might want to do this in my life" I was young at that time not knowing what the future would holed but just go what my heart says I might just might be able to do that. I started to make more videos and vlogs on there and I was getting better and better at recording and editing my videos and at the time I did improve for my videos I did not write how it would go at the time. When I got to high school I learned how to write good essyes and I worte more and I learned that I could make scipes and mini show on the internet. I made my own stories with rescarch and the life lesions in my stories and I became better at writing. On day near Christmas in 2011 I was just chilling with my friend and me and my friend was wondering what we can make next on youtube we had lots of ideas and music idea but I said we could do a TV internet show. He thought it was a good ides and then for the last six months I started making characters and scripts for episodes and I showed to him what we were doing and him and I wanted to be funny and we still continue to make this but we hope what I have done in the past I might get my show high views and great reviews by critics in the future

Be the first to comment.

Descriptive Essay: Should I change?

Posted by Rabbi Awsan in English 2 - Block on Monday, October 1, 2012 at 8:39 am


Its 1:30 in the morning, I already got 5 missed calls from my mom and she still calling me. I am really scared to pick it up because I told her I will be home by 10. I know you guys will be like “what he talking about”. Ok so let me start from the beginning.


8:10 my phone is buzzing, one of my friend called about the concerned that happening tonight from 7 until 10 and he wanted me to go with him because he don't wanna go alone and I immediately said yes to him. I did think it was that important to ask my parents but I still did just to let them know not for their answer. And soon as I told them that I'm going out they said “No” to me not because they don't want me to go because they don't like the people I'm going with.
 


One night when my dad was coming back from work he saw some of my friends smoking and doing other things that made my parents change their opinions and what they use to think about my friends before. I am not going to lie, I knew that my friends smoke and other things, but I didn't think they was doing anything bad. I never thought whatever they do anything was bad bully people, fight, disrespect their parents and I thought it was it was fun bullying people I didn't like it when they use to bully me but I like it when they do it to others. I was never into fight and I don't even like fighting but for my friends I did fight because they their my best friend’s.


disrespecting parents I was always against it but whenever I came home after hanging out with my friends and hear them disrespecting their parents and ect.. I start talking it lightly. I changed myself a lot by being with them or you can say i changed myself just to be with them. Ok, back to the night its almost 10:30 and my friends and I just got in to my friend car and i was still thinking about the time I give it to my parents.


I was excited the same time because I am going home. On my way home but for a second I did stop thinking what my parents will say then I go home.The car was going 100 miles per hours and soon as role down the window I feel some cold air on my face the cold air made me forget all I had on my mind and the things I was thinking. After few second the car start to slow down and one point it stop working. I got really scared I start looking around but I didn't see anything except for few houses it was probably 12 o'clock by then. Our car broke down middle of nowhere I didn’t have any signal on my phone but I was still could hear the buzz on my phone.
Tags: "English
Be the first to comment.
123 posts:
← Prev
  1. 1
  2. 2
  3. 3
  4. 4
  5. 5
  6. 6
  7. 7
  8. 8
  9. 9
  10. 10
  11. 11
  12. 12
  13. 13
Next →
RSS

ENG2-011

Term
2012-13

Blog Tags

  • "English 15
  • Language 8
  • English 6
  • Descriptive 6
  • "English 2 4
See all See less
  • english 2
  • autobiography
  • Enlglish
  • "BlogPost1"
  • English 2 - Block
  • Bryanna Jones
  • Language Autobiography
  • english2

Teacher

  • Joshua Block
Slate (skeleton-v3 PHP 8 prototype) · Location: 1482 Green St · Shipping: 550 N. Broad St Suite 202 · Philadelphia, PA 19130 · (215) 400-7830 (phone)
×

Log In