English 2 - Block — Slate (skeleton-v3 PHP 8 prototype)

Best worst day ever

Posted by Traevon Gray in English 2 - Block on Thursday, October 11, 2012 at 1:51 pm

There i was having the worst time in my short 9 years of living. It was a beautiful summer day, i was visiting my grandfather richards house. he a small man but hes also a rich man thats the reason i was laughing when i met him, get it hes rich and his name is richard. His house was the biggest i've ever seen. there was 7 rooms and it was only him and his wife living in the huge red and green home. His backyard is nice but his front yard is even nicer. His front yard consist of two main attractions the trampoline and the nine feet deep pool. And thats where it happen i was just sitting there enjoying a cheeseburger after being extremely abused from the torcher that was the trampoline. The trampoline was full of grown adult 260 pound of muscle men and they all were at least 6 feet tall. as the smallest in the trampoline i was forced to endure the torcher of the blue cell. I not only was step on but also i was put into a series of wrestling matches with various strong grown men opponents were i came out to 0-8-1 i lost eight and the 1 is a tie which was the last of my matches were i badly kneed my older cousin Andre into his egg shells, well they were egg shells when i was finished. So back to what i was saying i'm just sitting here enjoying a cheeseburger when no other than Andre himself came from behind me and grabbed my belt of my pants and kindly carried me towards the pool. Everyone has the knowledge of me being scared of water. well not all water just pools. i figure if the pool is 6 inches smaller than you theres a drawn hazzard. Back to the story the through me in the pool while i was in the air i used every cursed word i could think of. The worst part of it all is my burger fell in the air. As my body hit that cold water i felt an instant chill on my body including my tough, my mouth was open. while i was in there dying i made my will, my psp goes to no one i want to be buried with it, my 2 dollars goes to my brother aaron, all my clothes can go to amir he’s been eying them any way, daejah ohhh daejah my little sister whos the lightest of our family gets nothing, because well doing rematches when i tell you they did seven rematches they literally sat their self at that black couch for hour leaving indents in the couch the shape of their butt as well as their backs on the back of the couch. I was so dissapointed in myself for those hours i wasted the main thing that i was upset about is that i got punched for not being a good conmertary even though i thought i was there to play the game. So did as i always do left and went to the yard to play a game of musical chairs. I was doing good with my dont move quick-move quick stratagy. So i came down to the last three but i tripped it was the longest fall ever. That was the end of the best worst most terrific day of my life.

The Push to be Perfect- Descriptive Essay

Posted by Alexis Dean in English 2 - Block on Wednesday, October 10, 2012 at 9:39 am

Looking back on it now, it couldn’t have been more of a mistake. Why did I say yes? Why did I volunteer my time? Why did I commit? Yes, I love it.. but was it worth it? Three days out of the week was such an easy commitment, but I should have known that having my dad as my coach wasn’t going to be. My mom told me don’t go, I was wasting my time. But I didn’t want to be a dancer, I wanted to embrace the tomboy inside of me and break out of that girly shell that I hid under for so long. I didn’t fit in. The dancing world was not the world for me, I was a little fat girl who looked ridiculous in a tutu. So I figured why not become an athlete, as long as I practiced; the talent would come naturally. Softball cannot be that hard. Atleast thats what I told myself. The first practice was a breeze, but that was only icing on the cake for what was about to come. I didn’t expect to be pushing myself so hard, but I figured thats what athletes do, they go until they can’t go anymore.
The night of the twelfth game, was the last game before we found out who was making it into the championships. My heart pounded as the last few innings were played and I couldn’t even fathom the idea of us even making it into the championships, but by the looks of how this game was ending, we were headed that way. We were three runs from ending this game and finding out the open positions for the championship brackets. Before I knew it, my friend Breanna hit a homerun with the a runner on second and third. That was it! She scored the last three runs! I couldn't wait to line up and shake hands so that the faster that was over, the faster we would find out.. It was so nerve racking. “Girls, go sit by the first baseline really quick before you go. It will just be a minute I promise” yelled my dad from the plate as he continued to talk to the umpire. As we sat in our circle, the emotions were high. We knew that there was a really high chance that we were the ones involved in the championships but there was no way to be sure. Moments later, my dad makes his way over to our huddle with a piece of paper in his hand. He hands the paper to one of the girls and walks away.
There we were.. all in anticipation to open the piece of folded paper and find out what was on the other side. Were we to open it? or let it sit as it was? Our fate was written in front of us.. Breanna uttered the words.. “WE MADE IT!” Our hearts dropped. We made it into the championship.. we were one step closer to being champions! Two games and it was it.. The girls were in a different mindset, one that proved how truly dedicated they were to more than just a sport.. but a passion.
The day of the final game came upon us and it was time to realize what we had to do. We had to win at all costs.
With one single crack of the bat, I was off! The ball made it right over the head of the first basemen and the right fielder completely misjudged it, she gave me 15 extra feet! The crowd was roaring! Screaming my name and cheering me on. “I can do this!” I thought to myself. “I can make it to at least third” Running as hard and fast, I can feel my knees getting weak and I feel like i'm stomping on the Earth. I realized it was going to happen, I was going get to at least third with that hit but I wanted to run home. My dad, the coach was on the third base line waiting for me, waving his arms for me to keep going all the while screaming for me to be careful running the bases. He didn’t want me to slack off on the base running and get caught in the path of a fielder. I couldn’t believe what was happening. Somehow, the left fielder got a hold of the ball and was throwing it into third. “No! This can't be happening” I thought to myself as I realized that I was nowhere close to third and I was going to have to slide in to make it. I’ve only slid in a game once before and that was the previous season, so I am really not prepared. I’ve missed every sliding practice due to family matters and I don’t even know the proper technique, but I have to do it; I have to slide. “It can't be that hard, just kick your leg out and fall down. I guess it was that easy huh?
Then it happened, I slid! I did it! or at least I thought I did. When I was coming down, my leg got caught under the third baseman's and her cleat crushed my kneecap. I heard it shatter, the bone was sticking out. I already knew I was going to be called out, but I can't even get up to shake it off, we were going to lose because of me. Where is everyone? Why aren't they helping me? I'm starting to get nausea and dizzy, I think I'm going to faint. Its the championship game, I'm bleeding and I can't even stand up. Someone carry me off the field. All I can remember is screaming for my dad. But where was he? Why isn't he helping me? Next thing I know, everything went black and I woke up on the bench.

Descriptive essay

Posted by Estefan Carrillo in English 2 - Block on Friday, October 5, 2012 at 1:55 pm

Through life i've had to try new things and confronting things on my own. I've always had to deal with big issues on my own.

It all started when I was really young my mom was diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer one of the toughest times in my life it all started when my dad walked into my room on a bright sunny morning, I was just getting ready for school when all of a sudden he comes in his face had a glum lookI knew from the start that something was wrong and it was serious. The next thing that happend changed alot of things in my life “ remember when your mom said she was feeling a little bump on her breast, well that little bump is a thing you call cancer and its not a good thing but mommy will get all better don't worry. How am I not supposed to worry my mom has a serious disease that could potentially kill her. I knew that I had to be positive and support my mom through this tough stage in her life

through the weeks I had to make sure not to show the emotions I was feeling in front of my mom because I didn't want her to worry. She was already going through enough so I made sure to do as much as possible to help around the house. I would clean the bucket whenever she would throw up.

That help me become a better person and be more independent. When I walked home alone in the 5th grade it made me feel independent and I never knew I was able to do such a thing on my own. It happened on a sunny day in the spring it was still a little brisk outside but just a sweeter would keep me warm. School was just let out and I was waiting for my mom she wasn't outside waiting for me so I thought to myself she must be stuck in traffic than a half an hour passed and she still wasn't there so I called her. She said why are you not at home shouldn't you be on the school bus by now. I said you were supposed to pick me up today because I have practice, I forgot estefan ill be there in a lil go to rosita's house but instead of hearing that I thought she said walk to our house. So I started walking but it was getting a lil late and I kept thinking to myself did she really tell me to walk home. when I got home I was surprised I walked in at around 6:30 pm everything seemed to be fine except my mom was not home. all of a sudden i hear knocking on the front door the people that were knocking seemed to mean business and were serious. when I opened the door I was shocked the police said “ we are looking for estefan is he here?” they told me that my mom called saying that I was missing. when my mom got home I felt scared I knew from the stern look on her face. “why were you stupid enough to walk home I thought you were kidnapped and i told you that you I was going to pick you up.” I regretted walking home I scared my mom and she thought she lost her only child. i learned a lot of things from that day. Some ill take and some ill leave behind.

Those incidents in my life have made me a stronger person and Ive learned alot from them. without those things happening in my life i wouldn't be there person I am right now. When my mom had breast cancer I learned to be independent and do things on my own because of that I had the courage to walk home 40 blocks which wasn't the best idea but a good way to show that I did become independent.

Descriptive Essay: Loving Life

Posted by True Black in English 2 - Block on Friday, October 5, 2012 at 11:35 am

Many people in this world have a problem, they don’t take heed in their lives or their youth while they have it. They waste their young years and then complain when their gone. Me, I like to take full advantage of the life I have while I have it. How do you do that? By doing anything you are capable of doing that you enjoy. One thing I love to do is play basketball. Basketball has been one of the things I can always rely on when I need something to do, whether its workout, have fun, let off some anger, or spend time with my friends. My most memorable basketball moment was the one day in a neighborhood league I was playing in a game there was 15 seconds on the clock. Down by one and we had possession, timeout was called. My excitement was through the roof I felt like my heart was going to jump out my chest. Before I knew timeout was over, time to get back in the game. The crowd was screaming but I could barely hear them through all the telepathic tension between our two teams. Everyone got into position and the ball was checked in. The second the ball was in play the entire crowd of screaming friends and loved ones went silent. Every second seemed an eternity as the clock winded down. It was like staring at a clock eagerly waiting for that clock hand to make its way around. The time was ticking as we passed the ball around, patiently waiting for an opening. Suddenly, a man was open for a jumpshot. With five seconds to go as soon as he got the ball I rushed to get the possible rebound. The shot went up but it was short. Without thinking I rushed to the ball, caught it, and put it up. As soon as I released the ball the buzzer went off. I looked up to see the ball spinning around the rim. Tensioned built in everyone as the ball rolled around the rim like a top struggling to stay up right. Suddenly, the ball balanced on the side end of the rim. I closed my eyes and said please don’t fall out. Then I heard everyone in the gym yell. Open my eyes to see my whole team running at me. I was overwhelmed with joy, I had made my first buzzer beater for a win.

That was one of the greatest moments of my life so far. Another way to enjoy life is not only doing things you love but things you like to do. One of my favorite pass times is going to the beach and playing in big breakers. This as a matter of fact I was on vacation and a storm had just hit. So I figured, big storm equals big waves. So I decided to go see how what the waves looked. I took my bike and started the mile ride to the beach. The air had a humid density to it and the sky looked like an old time cartoon. I rode at a relaxed pace. A strom has the potential to kick big waves into gear, but I wasn’t sure. Minutes later I pulled up at the beach. The sand was still drenched from the recent rain fall. I walked up to the beach and gasped at the sight of huge breakers. The entire shore was covered in white. It was if the ocean was pocessed. I darted toward my bike to tell my family of what I saw. Everything seemed to be in slow motion as I raced back to the house. When I got back to the house you’d would’ve thought the military had burst through the door. “ I’m going to the beach, the waves down there are huge” I said. No one really cared at the moment because it was only 10:30 and nobody was really much of a morning person, so I put my swim trunks on and left myself. As soon as my feet hit the sand I made a straight B line for the water. When hit the water I was met by a wave that immedietly knocked me to knees. It was then that I realized it was gonna be a good day. After about an hour of being thown around like a rag doll at the mercy of a tottler my brother and cousins showed up. I would’ve been just as happy by myself, but it was good to have company and them be attackesd by mother nature. We stayed for several hours and then went home. Exhausted, I layed right on the couch and took a nap.

Those are two examples on how I like to enjoy life. I’m not saying people should do what I do, but don’t be afraid to do what’s fun to you or what interest you.

Emergency Rush

Posted by Jennifer Perez in English 2 - Block on Saturday, September 29, 2012 at 12:02 pm

I was about the age of 6, small and young stuck in a dreadful hospital filled with sick children all around. The halls were filled with silence and cold from what I remember. Everything was different. Boys and girls in my same age group, should be ponder with their imagination or go out having fun, I wasn’t so lucky to be like them. Usually not many people remember what happen during the age of 6 or younger, my mother actually told me what exactly happen that day.

I was 6 years old, tiny and short. I woke up one morning with a cold but my parents didn’t worry because nothing serious was going on or that’s what I thought. Minutes and hours passed , it was around 7pm from what I have been told my sickness got worst. My fever rose, I was burning like fire and I felt like the sun coming after me, if you touched me. You’ll feel the heat going threw my skin but what I really felt was coldness going threw me. I was freezing to death, cold as ice. My face was pale, like if I was frighten by a ghost. I also had a sore throat, it was bothering me badly, I barely couldn’t eat anything. My parents decided to take me to the hospital. My fever got worse by the minute. In the car, on the way to the hospital, I couldn’t take it no more, I started to burst out crying. I was sore and worried about what is going to happen.
We arrived and I was rushed into the emergency room, I was small so I didn’t understand what was happening. I never realize that I would be so sick that my parents had to rush me to the hands doctors and nurses. Scared and nervous, bursting out crying. They told my parents I had to stay at the hospital for a while because something serious was going on. It was a sickness that I wasn’t allow to go out and if I do, A infection would spread and it will go straight to my blood and cause a serious issue. I didn’t know what it was exactly and i’m still not sure what it was till this day, but all I know it was close to death. My parents never taught something could happen to me this bad. My mother prayed and my father worried. It was about midnight when the doctors left, leaving me in a cold room with my parents, I was exhausted from crying. I was halfway asleep but I was realizing that how could something this bad could happen to me? I started to bring silent tear to my face.
I remember waking up in the morning, realizing the sunlight morning filled up the whole room, I notice I had IV attached to my arm, hearing the beep coming from the weird machine beside the bed. I was scare and started to cry. My dad came up to me and told me “Everything is going to be okay”. The nurse came in with breakfast and took records of me. The nurse told me there was a playroom that I was invited to go later so I won’t be bored. Hours past, my mom finally arrive at the hospital, with a angel bear in her hand and a mcdonalds kids meal, while my dad had to go out. My mom made me feel happy when she arrived. After a while, my mother and I went to the playroom together, I remember I met this girl, the same age as me. She was philippine with long black hair, like mine. She was my hospital buddy back then. We always used to meet up at the playroom and play monopoly board game together with other sick children and a nurse. We also ate macaroni and cheese together and visit each other rooms. I remember telling me her story, she was sick like me. Last time I seen her was when they took her away to surgery, I was in front of the room standing with my mom, she was laying down on the bed being pushed by doctors and nurses, we waved at each other saying goodbye, wishing her a good luck. I soon realized I wasn’t the only one.
Hours and days past, I was stuck in the hospital friends and family visited me everyday. I finally released from the hospital on the weekend. We went home on a rainy day, I was glad to be home because I knew I was safe and sound. One thing that I was curious about was wondering what ever happen to my friend from the hospital, Did she make it? Is she okay? Hopefully shes safe. I still wonder still this day and I will never forget her. I am blessed that I am better now and that I am healthy. Till this day I am shock because I was really sick and was going threw a lot of things when I was little and its not normal but now everything is okay.

Descriptive Essay; To Be Great

Posted by Nadir Meeks in English 2 - Block on Friday, September 28, 2012 at 2:11 pm

There are people that in life that want us to do great things. Some people think that it might take years to be even good let alone great at anything. However, there are some things that just take a little thought to be good at. I can remember my dad telling me that I needed to do something with my life. He always said that I quit everything as soon as it got hard. I didn’t want to admit it, but I knew it was true. He even went as far as calling me a loser to make me do something with my life. So I decided I wanted to prove him wrong.
By the time I had gotten that conversation I had already been doing sports so I didn’t take it to heart, knowing that my dad can be harsh sometimes. I felt that doing sports was enough for, “doing something with my life.” I had already given the guitar a try, but had given up because, sure enough, it got too hard. I knew he was right it wouldn’t do me any good if I lied to myself. So a few months after track season was over I realized that just doing sports wasn’t enough because I had nothing to do after track except for just sit around and be told to do something. I decided to give guitar one more try, but the bass caught my eye for some reason. I was swaying back and forth trying to decide which one I wanted to stick with. For guitar I thought of all the cool crazy solos that you hear in classic rock songs that people go crazy over, but with bass I thought of all the funky songs that have sick bass riffs that you can never forget. After a few months of going back and forth between the two, I finally made up my mind and stuck with the bass.
I decided I was going to learn the bass because I loved how sweet it sounded in songs. Luckily my dad had a spare bass lying around that he didn’t use so I had something to practice on. He gave me a book and a little advice and just told me to learn. At first I thought that I couldn’t possibly learn myself because I don’t have the self discipline to practice on my own everyday. I felt as though I needed a teacher so I could have a set time each day to practice. With that mindset it wasn’t long until when it started getting hard I quit once again on the bass. After a few months of being told I was a quitter and telling myself that I was a quitter I said I didn’t want to live life like this. So I picked up the bass again and toughed out through the hard points to prove my dad wrong and because I wanted to do something good for myself. It felt good knowing that my dad noticed my improvement from when I started to now. It actually got easier the more I learned about the instrument, so easy I even started over thinking it. For example, I thought learning the note of each fret was impossibly hard. With 4 strings that each have 24 frets, give or take a few, at first glance that seems impossible, but I found out that I didn’t need to learn each individual fret and that they all went in order which accelerated my learning massively. Some other key moments of when I over thought playing bass was when I learned how scales work and chord progressions. Those two things allowed me to understand how jazz works. People also noticed that I played bass and wanted me in their band. Even though I don’t really listen to the type of music they play I still feel good that I did something all the way through to get noticed by other people that I barely even know.
Overall it feels good to have done something all the way through. It pays out in the end. Although I’m still improving on my playing, but I can at least say I know how to play an instrument without having a single doubt in mind. Not only that, but my dad is proud that I finally did something with my life. I’m proud of myself too because not many people can learn from a book on their own. Even though I’m not great yet at I’ve at least made a good start being it.

Descriptive Essay: A night To Remember

Posted by Anna Davies in English 2 - Block on Friday, September 28, 2012 at 1:15 pm

September 21, 2012
Descriptive Essay #2

September 22, 2012. a.k.a the best night of my life. This was the night of FIGURE at The SoundGarden Hall in Northern Liberties right across from the river. For those of you who don't know what this is, it is one of the most insane raves in the country. I clearly remember standing on the corner of spring garden and Columbus Boulevard anxiously waiting for the doors of the club to open. After what seemed like an hour we reached the front doors and my friends and I finally made it inside the mysterious looking building. "Oh. My. God.", were the only words my friends and I could get out of our mouths when we first arrived.
Now when I tell you that I've been to a lot of different venues, I mean a LOT, and I've never came across a venue that was anything close to this place, I mean it. All of the walls are entirely covered in tall mirrors, with two big visualizer screens, and the widest variety of lights I have ever seen before. For the first five minutes of the show it was almost as if I was being blinded by the flashing lights. Blue, green, pink, purple, red, and yellow lights flashing all over. Flickering to the beat of the music causing your vision to become quite distorted. You'd think it would be bothersome, but it's far from it. Enough with the lights already, let me tell you a little about the music.
From the moment you walk into the venue your entire body is vibrating. The whole night my friends and I were directly in the front of the stage with the performing DJs. This is where the crowd was the most insane. I specifically remember this one part of the night when DJ Rion was playing my favorite song so I was even more pumped than usual. When the song first started off everyone was going crazy! Pumping their fist to the beat until suddenly the music cuts out, and the lights stop, then BOOM the bass drops harder than ever! Everyone in the crowd goes mental! You can feel the bass vibrating from your feet all they way up through your chest. Strobe lights and smoke machines blur your vision as if you're in a euphoric fog of happiness. Being at a rave is like a totally different world. It's a place where there are no worries. Nobody judges you, nobody tells you what to do, it is a completely drama free, care free zone.
When I am out raving with my friends I feel nothing but happiness. The whole environment of these crazy concerts is just so nice. You meet so many people, learn about so many different cultures, and theres absolutely no negative energy. Why is it that people can't get along like this all the time? This is something that I think about all the time. I feel as though people take happiness for granted sometimes. For those of you who have not experienced raving, I would highly suggest that you try going out to one sometime. I promise you, it will be a night to remember. Full of happiness, dancing, and just plain old fun.

Descriptive Essay: The heart has no color

Posted by Alexa Eddy in English 2 - Block on Friday, September 28, 2012 at 12:59 pm

   I ALWAYS saw this everywhere, interracial relationships. Whether it be white/asian, spanish/black, and more common mixes. I usually don't see a caucasian male with a female that is another race. I don’t know why but it always seemed really cute in the movies. Picture perfect, and anyone who feasted their eyes on the movies would say so too. As I got older, my mind opened up more and I fell in love with my bestfriend who is now currently my boyfriend and I guess its not like the movies, because we get different reactions... As a child, the only interracial relationship that seemed possible was a black/hispanic mix. But it was more common to be in a relationship with your own race, or else it didn’t look right (from my 3rd grade mind). I didn’t know who I would choose though. An African-American? Or a Puertorican? I’m half and half so I just settled it. I was going to wait all my life to find someone who was black/puertorican so I can marry and be happy. I’ll admit, I was proud of who I am and what I liked, but I didn’t like white people. Everywhere I went with my mom, a white employee was always rude to her and due to my adolescent ignorance I just connected those experiences to the WHOLE race. From pre-school to 5th grade I was pretty much this way until I hit middle school.

   I went to A.M.Y (Alternative middle years) 5 for middle school. I went to the meeting in the summer to get my summer reading assignments. Everything looked pretty good and the only white kids that I saw were maybe five? There were white teachers, but I was used to seeing them, so I felt pretty good. After I started my first year, thats when I saw it.         Mixed in with everyone else was a bunch of white people! I get anxious and nervous around people and cramped spaces (which A.M.Y was. Way too cramped). There were so many and I couldn’t believe it so I prepared for the worst. Now, after some time passed I came to the conclusion that I hated this school and so did all of my friends. But I thank this school, because some of my friends were white, asian, arab and more! This school showed me that just because some people decided to be idiots doesn’t mean theyre connected to the entire race. When I graduated, I ended up with all types of friends. I remember one time I was sitting in Amy’s library with one of my good friends Miranda. It was a nice day, but rare. I didn’t get to see her much because she was always in the hospital, so when I do get to see her I’m pretty happy. She was white. She hung out with this group of white girls that I guess didn’t like me that much because her friend Melissa said “Why are you hanging out with black people?” and Miranda replied “Why AREN’T you hanging out with black people?”. And when I heard that I felt a twinge of happiness; she didn’t care what skin color I was. And no one else should either. But I had one BEST friend and his name was Scott Sicilia, and he was different .

   After starting my school at Science Leadership Academy, the school year was all tense and I had a five minute breakdown over benchmarks (You see, I wasn’t used to so much work being bombarded on me so I broke down, cried and all). So, seeing some old friends eased my mood. I went to the mall and I saw Scott again. He ran to hug me and honestly, it was the best feeling ever. I’m not going to bore you with the whole love story thing but basically, we went to the movies as friends, and left as boyfriend and girlfriend. As we held hands to walk, people were already glancing, maybe more than three times and my eyes started to jet everywhere on my body. Was my hair okay? Is there something on my shirt? No, there was nothing wrong with me. So why were they glancing? Soon, I would come to a conclusion that it’s the guy I’m with, because I will be experiencing a lot of these glances.

   I always saw a African American male with a Caucasian female and that was okay! I’m fond and thankful for interracial relationships or I wouldn’t be here. Around where I live, a caucasian male and a hispanic female or an african american female OR in my case, both, is not common. You never see it. So I could understand why some people glance again and again. And most of the times I’m proud because I like who I’m with. He’s not perfect but he’s awesome and no one else should really have anything to say. It’s when they DO have something to say, that it kills my mood but makes my beliefs stronger.

   The first time I ever really felt angry and almost lost it was when a group of guys walked by and yelled out loud “What’s he doing here?” or “Yo he belongs in Kensington”. I would have thought that even today, some people would be more mature. One time I was with him at a bus stop and some guy came up in a car and said “I SEE YOU WHITE BOY” and his friend started laughing, I guess they saw the sharp and agonizing look in my eyes because they turned away and drove off. My boyfriend can defend himself very well but I won’t just let someone try to downgrade him. At other times, drivers stare as they drive by or flip us the finger. Occsionally we get “You guys are so cute” or “You guys are dating? That’s so nice!”. And it makes me feel good that we have some people who are accepting. I don’t care what other people think, but when you mess with me and my boyfriend there is obviously going to be a problem. No one should care who I hang around with and who hangs out with me.. It’s 2012 and people need to recognize that we aren’t in the old days anymore. I can be with whoever I want to be and go anywhere I want to go. There aren’t any Jim Crow laws, there isn’t any segregaion, we have a mixed president! So why is it a problem that my boyfriend and I are together? There are just some things in this world that I can never understand, I just remind myself that everytime we hold hands in public, it’s making a difference.

Sweet 16!

Posted by Chaveliz Nieves in English 2 - Block on Friday, September 28, 2012 at 11:11 am

“Happy Birthday Chaveliz”! I was extremely delighted to hear and see people entering my birthday party and wishing me a wonderful birthday. Nothing can or ever will make me feel the way I did on that special day to me. So much preparing and so much hard work to spend four hours with my family and friends.
It all started a few months before my 15th birthday. My parents asked me if I wanted a quinceañera or a sweet 16. I automatically said a quienceañera because it was a tradition in my culture. Unfortunately, my parents said if I wanted a quiceañera, I had to do it with my older sister because her birthday was a few days after mines and she wanted a sweet 16. I was a little disappointed but told her that I would rather have a sweet 16 too so that both of us could have our own day. We wouldn't have to worry about who or what people say or have to worry about whose friends can come or not.
When the time came for my birthday, all the preparations came along with it. The dress, the cake the decorations, the food, everything! My mother told me not to worry about all of that because the hall we rented for the night, came with everything that we needed for the day. The hall was a beautiful burgundy color with a lot of flowers everywhere and a really big dance floor. The lighting was a little dim so my dress would have its own spotlights when I entered and the lights would shine on me. All I had to worry about was the cake that I was going to get and the two dresses, and the invitations for the party. My mother asked me so many times what I wanted for my birthday but I didn’t know what to say or ask for because I had everything I asked for.
When June of 2012 came around, I had to start working out to buy my dress or thats what I thought was going to happen. What girl would not want her dress to fit and look beautiful? During the summer, I was babysitting my cousins and staying at my uncles house. But at the same time, I ate so much I always told myself that I would exercise later or go to the park in the morning. The reality was that I gained weight during the summer. “Did you finish working out”? my uncle asked me. I said yes because I knew he wouldn’t let me order my dress until I did. “okay then. come over here so you can order the dress of your choice” he said. I ordered my dress online. I orders a long poofy dress. It was a champagne colored dress with a lot of diamons on the upper part of the dress.I was hoping for it to fit because I got it the size I thought would fit. And also it was extremly beautiful! The shipping date was September 4th and I would get the dress September 12th. I finished babysitting and went back home because school was about to start. I got home on August 28. Everyday, I used to check if the mailman was there with my package. One day, i went out with my mother. “Mom we have to go buy my new pair of heels for my party” I told my mom. She replied with an okay we will get to the mall in 15 minutes. We bought beige colored heels that complimented the champagne and silver dress. When we arrived home,I saw a note on my door that said a package came to your house but it was left in my porch.My neighrbor left a note on my door. I was extremely excited to know my dress was just footsteps away. “Mom it’s inside Aalliah’s house”! I said. I will be right back with my dress. I bursted out of my house to go to my neighbors house and get the dress! I saw my neighbor outside of her house with the package and she handed it to me. I took it and said thank you for holding on to it. I was surprised because it was September 6 and I already had my dress! I was very joyful and thankful I got my dress.I was so thankful because I knew I had to adjust the length because it was 5 inches longer than it should be on the website. But when I went to put it on, that wasn’t the only problem. My dress did not close ! It was small! I tried and tried and tried to put the dress on correctly but it did not fit! My mom tried to put it on but still it did not fit! Extremely upset, I took the dress off and got ready to work out. I need that dress to fit! It’s my dream dress! The only one I ever wanted.
On the brightside, by my dress getting to my house three weeks before my party, I was able to work out and get it fixed on time. I got up early in the morning the next day and I heard my mother tell me to hurry up and get ready. We were going to work out! “ Run Chaveliz, You want that dress don’t you”? I replied with a yes! “So get to it and start running” my mom said. This happened for two weeks and a half. I saw the changes. I was so happy I saw physical changes. Now all I was waiting for was my dress!A few days before my party, I tried on my dress fitted perfectly. It had to be tweaked in a few placed to look better but it fitted. I was so grateful it did. Now knowing that my dress fitted fine, I went shopping for my changing dress. After two intense days of shopping, I found the dress that matched perfectly to my first dress and there it was ,it hit me. The idea of knowing that my party will be in two days!
On the day of my party, I woke up early to get beautified. I went to the hair salon and got a lot of curls on my hair, and got my nails done.I was extremely tired! But still tried to remember that all my friends and family will meet me at the hall. I left my house at 10 in the morning and got back home at 3:26 in the afternoon. In three hours, I had to be at the hall for my party. The hall that was full of flowers, full of butterflies and especially full of family and friends. I looked for all my make up and put some on. I was glowing and felt like a princess! Two hours down and I had nothing to do. So I sat and watched tv and took some pictures and then put on my dress. My ride got to my house ten minutes before. SO I had to rush out of my house and proceed to the hall. I saw so many lights on my way to the party. So many signs and I just sat there. Excited trying to calm myself down and there I was. In front of my hall. People entering and everyone screaming“Happy Birthday Chaveliz”! I was extremely delighted to hear and see people entering my birthday party and wishing me a wonderful birthday. Thats all I heard when I arrived at my party. That day will always be held in my heart. I saw my friends and family and enjoyed it dearly. Now I know if I want my dress to fit, without any complications to work out or if not my party will be a disaster!

Descriptive essay: The struggle!!

Posted by Khadijah Fofana in English 2 - Block on Friday, September 28, 2012 at 10:32 am

On a hot sunny day, it was about 90 degrees outside. I was in the house all day lying down bored on the black, comfy sofa and with soft pillows surrounding me, flicking through channels and relaxing. I stood up tired, exhausted, and didn’t feel like getting bothered at all. I was trying to go to the bathroom, and then I heard the front door open. It was loud and noisy. I knew it was my mother by the smell of her strong perfume. So, I got up slowly and ran to the bathroom because every time she walks in the house, she starts to annoy me. I heard her footsteps from the bathroom. While I stand in the bathroom, as silent as possible, looking at the bluish wall, the smell of soup and the sound of the TV outside of the bathroom door. As I walk around the wet bathroom floor, frustrated to come out because I knew she would act like the same person I knew all my life, and that will be her always yelling. Five minutes later I heard call me. She was extremely angry.

(Khadi). She sounded like she had a bad day. I excitedly opened the door, pretending I was happy about everything, and couldn’t wait for the so call family meting. The cool air touches my skin and the bright colored pink is what my mother was wearing. This is when everything started.

She angrily give me wet five dollar bill, I didn’t even know why it was wet but okay…she asked me to go to the store, as she walk up stairs I stomp my feet and got really mad, face frowned and eyes red. I hear a footstep coming back down.

My mother with a green shirt saying “oh yea don’t take your bike with you”, and I said but mom. She goes up the stairs and slam the door while she was going back up I heard her voice but in a smaller tone saying I’m not going to repeat myself. I didn’t feel like getting dressed I threw on my pink overgarment; I then put my green sneakers with a black and white kemar. I headed on out. I didn’t listen I walked outside with the bike.

Wait let me try myself, Heart beating faster the sound of family laughter and conversations. I can barely pedal, trying my hardest not to make a fool out of myself, but in my mind that was the only thing I knew was going to happen. Teenagers disparaging me. Sounds of whispers, bubble gum, and the feeling of humiliation. I always knew that I could do whatever I put my mind to so I kept trying. Every Time I fell off I pretend I was doing it all of on purpose.

I was asked by my mother to sit down and relax for 30mins, so I watch running children’s, the sound of ice cream truck, mom yelling and boys who claims to be gang members. I waited the 30 minutes; I even counted down the last one minute. After the count down I rushed to the bike. I get on my bike and pedal slowly of the block. As I pedal passing by the police station I felt shy and somehow embarrassed. I then look down to the blackish gray concrete, was I seen Doritos, candy, and a pop eyes wrappers. I start to feel and wish I had some. As I get closer to the street I smelled chicken from the Chinese store, African food from the African restaurant close by. As the bike get slower I starts to feel my overgarment pull and I was confuse as for what was happening, I looked down and saw my overgarment stuck in the chins I tried to get up and I was stuck. I looked down and saw that the only way I could have solve the problem was to tear my garment and that’s what I did. I grandiloquently walked back home with feeling of regrets, and blaming myself was the best way to make myself feel better. Back on the block to sounds of the winds blowing the trees and kids sitting, and no ice cream truck. Everything was Calm. Until when my aunt Amina came with her precious daughter Aishah. Her Aishah started to cry, and all the other babies started crying, I was annoyed I got back on my bike and rode to the end of the block with a lot of audacity.

Babies crying, moms frustrated, and kids wearing colors that kept calm and me motivated. Green, red and grayish. Everything was good. I pit myself on the spot. I felt the need to stop the whole entire family to tell that I can ride a bike now; I had everyone’s attentions I knew I had to do something good. I felt sweat dripping, and my heart once again was my heart was beating faster and I felt like I was going to pop my tiny blood vessels in my forehead. I felt a lot of pressure. I rode to the end of the block then made a u turn on my way back down, I could see nothing but a blurry shirt running around so I knew I had to make sure, not to run the child over, trying to save the kid made me fall hard of the bike to the ground. Tears dripping, my knees were bleeding, hands all red, and my whole day became a disaster.

English 2 - Block Public Feed