English 3 · Block/Harmon · B Band Public Feed

Create a Post

Gender vs. Individuality

Posted by Assirem Hosni in English 3 · Block/Harmon · B Band on

Introduction: The purpose of this text was to portray a struggle that effects me and many other girls from around the world that has experienced isolation due to son favoritism in the culture. This is a universal issue that effects many of daughters today. Daughters are left abandoned, killed, discriminated because they are viewed as shameful and useless to the family, however I personally were lucky to not receive such as harm treatment coming from my culture. I used this negative discrimination that i did receive growing up as motivation and encouragement to be the independent and a strong courageous women that i am today. 

A Couple years ago on my birthday in Algeria, the house filled with joyous laughter, loud cheery cultural music, kids footsteps thumping through the hallways, and wine glasses clinking together leaving a tender crystal vibrating echo across the room. With a matter of seconds, the music came to a halt, the laughter ceased to complete silence, footsteps slowed down, and the precedent echoes from the wine glasses became a little more clear and less tender. A repetitive throb with an awful scream gusted in from the doors and windows and froze everyone still.

“Aghiles? Where is Aghiles? My mom jumped out of her seat interrogating everyone for my brother..

I knew where he was. I knew he didn't listen when my grandmother warned him about the broken gate on the front porch. Ever since he got his green lantern bicycle with flashy training wheels, he has not gotten off of it. He rides the little green monster like a NASCAR driver back and forth. And by the pitch of his screech of pain, I guess this time it took a bad turn.

We all ran outside to help, Aghiles is at the bottom of the huge grey staircase. I got drowned and disposed of in the back of the crowd. The little king. My brother's wines drew the people closer and closer and further and further away from me.

It's my birthday. They’re my guests. If a birthday is supposed to be the day you get the most attention and care then it must've been his birthday every day.

“My son!” My mother cried.

He’s going to be fine, a broken arm hasn’t killed anyone before. Was this that big of a deal? Can we get back to me?

Growing up with two brothers, there was never enough attention to spread to me, there was never enough extra care to come to me. I had to give the attention and care to myself.

Why didn’t my mother scream out,

“My daughter!” When I fell down the stairs. And I was way younger than then he is and the stairs were much larger and longer than those ones. This was not an accident,  he was asking for it. On the other hand I fell down the stairs by accident. I remember that incident as clear as day.

It was a bright early morning. It had to be the weekend or I would've been at school already. I knew how to walk fine but I still never really looked or cared about where I went. I just step after step and move forward.

I begun picking up the pace and ran towards the staircase. I looked down leaning forward and holding on to the very high wall that was where the pole used be. Before I knew it I felt a sharp pain on my shoulder as my legs swung upwards depassing my chest. I clenched my eyes and wrinkled my forehead from the pain. I could feel the jets of the smoldering hot sun beaming down and scorching my fair white skin. Thump after thump. I could feel the bruises ingraining into my exposed and helpless body. The pain no longer had value, it became numb. I was rolling down the stairs and finally made my last clash onto the brisk, textured, concrete pavement. I shouted and shouted for help. My heart continued to pick up the pace as if it was about to escape my chest.

I couldn’t understand what the dark figure was standing over me. Through the hazy atmosphere, I recognized the sharp teeth with saliva dripping from the keel tip. I heard a heavy bark followed by a slimy and long lick across my face. It was my dog.

No matter how loud my screams were, they were not enough. I patted off the little pebbles and dirt engraved into my arms and legs. I shook off any dirt access on my little pink dress and I pulled myself up and walked inside. I dragged over the chair and reach for the emergency box and grabbed a couple band-aids. After a couple of struggles, I had finally got them on. I took care of myself. I did it alone.

Being from a country where sons have more value than the daughters, many of the incidents as so, happened plenty of times growing up to me and many other siblings as well. Though, I do not see it as a curse like most people do, I view it as a good lesson taught. Similar to many girls in my position, we are forced to grow up quickly and take care of ourselves alone. My gender has made the individual, independent, secure female that I am today.


Advanced Essay #1: When Life Happens

Posted by Cianni Mack in English 3 · Block/Harmon · B Band on

​ The goals I set for this essay was to try and dig for deeper life lessons than the surface lessons that were obvious. Secondly I wanted both of my memories to happen recently so I could be as vivid as I could with the memories. By the memories being so recent to my life I could remember sensory details and be completely honest rather than having to piece together old things that I didn't really remember. Ultimately I am very proud of my bigger picture because I think that its something that people don't really acknowledge and end up feeling lost when life does happen. 

When Life Happens 

As I was staring out the window, I could see the streets flooding with brown water. The water had become brown from the runoff from a construction sight from a few miles behind. It was pouring. I felt the train slowing down since the last stop and then it came to a complete stop in a heavily wooded area. A few seconds later, the loud speaker came on and the conductor said, “Folks, we can no longer move forward due to flooding on the tracks.” I had already been on this train for three hours going on four. After the announcement went off, all the passengers who had to sit in the cafe car just like me, could feel the annoyance level skyrocket. Nobody knew how long we would be waiting but all I knew was that I was going to get all my homework done.

This was the first time I had been a situation like this by myself. I am usually with someone else but there was no one I knew that was on the train with me. It was a major experience where I had to be responsible of my safety and be able to stay calm. Being responsible meant that I had to keep my parents updated with the status of my train and staying aware of my surroundings. Although I was slightly worried that I was going to have to sleep on the train, I remained calm.

Early that week I had another life experience that I clearly remember going like this. “Ding, ding, ding, dIng,” is what you could hear Ms. Diane saying over the loudspeaker. This was the fire drill my physics teacher had informed us on minutes before. I grabbed my phone and proceeded to the hallway as other classes flooded the same direction as me. Although I was warned and was told that we were going to have the drill, I was still caught off guard. It was just one of those things you can never really prepare for in your mind. Once we got to the end of the hallway, we made a left turn to a side stairway that was steep. It was dark and cool as we walked down the steps but as we got closer to the bottom, I could see how bright it was outside. When I got to the bottom of the steps, I could feel the sun on my face and instantly knew that this fire drill was going to be miserable.

Fire drills may not seem like something big, but it's always a good example of being prepared just in case life happens. I am not sure how I will act if there was actually a fire but what I can say is the I know the plan to get out safely. I have been doing fire drills since I started school and I never really took the time to think about why they were so important. Now being the young adult that I am, it is just another way of schools preparing us for life.

Being put into situations like being caught in a storm and having the fire drill were two totally different experiences but very relatable. Both of these experiences taught me to be prepared for the anything, even for the worse. Thinking back to when I was stuck on the train, I remember my mom kept texting me about if my phone was dying. Just imagining what it would have been like if my phone had died would’ve been terrible. I would not have had a way to contact any of my family to tell them that I was stuck. Everyone would have be worried about why I was not answering the phone and if something had happened to me. Although nothing went wrong during the fire drill, it still helps me stay prepared for the worse. If there ever was a fire in school, I would know the safest route to get out. My teacher made it very clear about which way to go and even where to go after I got outside.

The bigger picture to both of these memories is that if I stay ready, I won’t have to get ready. In life, you never know what is going to happen next and sometimes things can happen and change your life forever. Although we all like to believe that we have total control over our lives, sometimes life happens. You can't control what things happen but you can control how you react and deal with things. For instance, when I was stuck on the train, I couldn't control the water flooding but I could control how I reacted and how I was going to deal with the situation. It's important to make the best decision possible when things come up because they might have long term effects.


Tribute // Kyle Thomas

Posted by Kyle Thomas in English 3 · Block/Harmon · B Band on

​Introduction: This essay mainly focuses on how you should keep extended relationships. I am proud of the amount of hard work that I had put into this essay. Also, I am proud of my time management with this project because I had made sure that I completed all checkpoints on time. 

Tribute

Screams, cheering, and applauses rumbled through the room. Heart racing, heavy breathing, sweaty hands. I’m sitting in the room waiting to hear my name to get called. I’m on stage at a dance competition sitting with my friends and teammates. It was the last award for the night.

It was a hot night in Atlantic City, New Jersey, and my team was going to perform on stage. There were only two acts left. We all gather in a circle and wish each other luck on stage. When I was dancing on the stage, my confidence boosted higher. The nerves that I felt before all had disappeared as I moved. Sweat dripping down my face and my heart is racing. My eye filling up with water and I’m about to pass out while I danced. After we performed, all you can hear was heavy breathing and people cheering that we had done a great job.  The last award was between us and another team. By one point, the other team had won. The look on all of our faces was speechless and upset because we did everything that we could to get to nationals. You can see the sweat and tears rolling down our face, but we didn’t let it get to our heads and we pushed to go harder.

A few days after the competition, I was walking up the steps to get to the third floor to go to my dance studio. Suddenly I heard  my dance director counting, “Five, six, seven, eight.” I walked into my dance studio with black sweatpants, a black hoodie and headphones in my ear playing one of the dance sets. My dance studio is really big and has a lot of air conditioners in it. As you walk in you will see a tone of trophies on the wall, floor, and on the shelves. Suddenly, I notice that my dance director was crying in her office and my teammates had surrounded her. When I got there, my other dance director Ms. Danielle who is best friends with Ms. Kamillie told everyone, “Ms. Kamille mother had passed away from cancer.” My eyes began to tear up when I heard the news because her mom always uses to walk up to me after every performance telling me that I did a great job and how she likes the way that I dance.  Ms. Kamillie’s mother had always brought this positive energy everytime you are around her. She cared about all the kids and made sure that we all would stay out of trouble.

Later on,  the team and I decided to do a dance tribute to her mother because we felt as though that we need to show her how much we cared about her. The practices were long hours everyone was tired and trying to push through the pain. Ms. Kamille didn’t know that we were doing this for her. We had to keep it a secret. We performed this at our dance recital because we wanted everyone to see this dance tribute that we put together. At the end of the dance, we gave Ms. Kamille flowers and a big group hug to show support and love. Ms. Kamille was speechless because she saw how much we cared about her and how we all will manage to get through it.

After that experience, it made me realized how it is good to have people support and care for you. I had learned that it is good to have extended relationships with people because I know that I can contact them at any time if I needed anything and they would be there to help me. This situation will always resonate with me because it allows me to see the importance of friendship and family. It made me realize why they are important to me. People should be grateful for the people in their lives because you never know if they will be gone in the next moment. Life's too short for you not to appreciate the ones who support you and care about you. You need to realize how big of an impact that will have on your life because you will know that they got your back no matter what you plan on doing. Lastly, everything is not always about winning but it's about the work you put in that made you and/or others happy.


Advanced Essay #1: Change Through Music

Posted by Edwin Ortiz in English 3 · Block/Harmon · B Band on

Introduction: In this essay I speak about a battle between fitting in or staying true to my culture. The highlights of this paper are the descriptive scenes and the analysis/reflection that came afterwards. There is always room for improvement especially in my grammar, that can take my writing to the next level. 

We walked into music class but the teacher had planned something different for today. We sat at different sections of the risors, the black steel platforms covered by a grey carpet at the end, where I sat with my friends. The teacher walked in front of the class and asked

¨Did every group pick your favorite song over the summer? ”

Quickly my friends began to converse amongst themselves and completely left me out of the conversation. I inched towards the huddle in hopes of them realizing I was apart of the group too. They continued to talk, I was on the sideline, benched.

¨How about you Edwin? What was your favorite song over the summer¨  inquired Jaylen.

I quickly searched my playlist to find a song that I loved that they would also know. It was almost like a checklist, none of the songs met all of the requirements. Most of them were in spanish, they wouldn't know them, but the songs that were in english were all older, they would think I was lame. I knew it wasn't a test but at the same time, was I sure? My mind was playing games with me, I was just thinking about what they were think, ¨Does he not know any songs?¨ I saw Saimeen turn to Zoie and ask. She was the only other hispanic. I saw Siah's face turn from confusion to a judgemental understanding. He proceeded to say ¨He only listens to spanish music, he doesn't listen to anything else.¨  

¨No I don't!¨ My shame overshadowed my lie, no one listened to me. They knew the truth.  I replayed the events over and over again. Why did I lie? Why couldn't I just agree with whatever they said, how could I? I didn't even know what they listened to. I put my head down, and felt my palms digging into my cheeks.

¨What song did you guys decide on΅

¨Travis scott, antidote¨

I realized I was different from all of my other friends. They all grew up listening to the same music, they all liked the same thing. I wanted to fit in so bad at that moment, I was ready to change the music I listened to, but I didn't realize that I would end up changing more than just the music.

I got home feeling more out of place than I ever did before. I grabbed my phone and started to delete all of the music I had. All of the songs had one thing in common, they were in spanish. Before going to FACTS, every student was just like me, we all were the same. My fingers gripped the edge of my phone, the red trash can icon glowing on the bottom of the screen, I was throwing away all of the things I loved just to be accepted by my peers, but in this moment the thought of my culture and family heritage was deleted with the music.  

Before entering FACTS charter school, I attended Lewis Elkin Elementary.  The school was only four blocks away from where I lived. The school was in North Philadelphia, which meant that most or all of the students were of Hispanic heritage. The teachers at Elkin would speak spanish part or most of the day. All of the students I attended school with, grew up in the same area and culture as I did. I was just another Dominican boy that attended Elkins. I never felt out of place at Elkins, there was almost no possible way I could have.

¨What are you listening to?¨ I looked up and saw Zoie smiling at me, her pearly white teeth hid behind her plump lips.

¨Nothing¨ I tilted my phone so the screen was facing the ground, I clicked the lock button  the screen went black and I smiled at her. I didn't want her to see what I was listening to, just in case they didn't listen to this music either. This time it was in english and I made sure that the album released recently.

¨Just let me see it¨ she grabbed my wrist, having the phone looking towards the sky and clicked the home button to unveil the song title. I got nervous and I felt myself grip the side of my phone tightly, my hands were moist. ¨I love this song! J cole is poppin,¨ she smiled at me then continued ¨I didn't listen to the whole album yet, have you? Anyway the reason I came to you was to ask what music in spanish do you recommend? I just want to learn more spanish.¨ I grabbed my phone ready to show her my playlist with all of my favorite spanish songs, but I remembered that it was all gone, I deleted it. I stared at my phone, realizing the mistake I had made so many months ago, I stuttered looking for a response.  

For many months, basically the rest of my 7th grade year I only listened to R&B, Hip-Hop, Rap and started to only speak English at home. When I deleted all of the Bachata, Merengue, Dembo and Salsa from my phone I did not realize that I was also deleting part of my culture. I began to forget how to speak spanish and found myself not being able to form simple sentences. When Zoie came up to me I realized that I was losing more than just music, that I needed to find a balance to get the best of both worlds. I needed to be proud of where I came from.


Advanced Essay #1: Today Was The Day

Posted by Oluwatobiloba Adebayo in English 3 · Block/Harmon · B Band on

Introduction: 
This essay tells the story of change and the different emtions one feels about a wedding. for most people weds are something we look forward to but for me, it was something I dreaded. I spoke on the emotions I felt and how the reationship would neever be the same. The goal of my essay was to share an expeiernce and shed insight. In the future, I would consider adding more of my own thoughts and figuring out ways to be more descriptive.

                                                       Today Was The Day
Seven years ago, I woke up excited as ever jumping off my bed and looking at what time it was. 5:00 AM. Jubilant remembering that today was finally the day. I still remember the feeling as if it was yesterday. Today was the day I kept telling myself. This was because I was going to see my first wedding ever. My cousin was to get married today. September 7 in the year 2012. And I was going to be in the wedding. That made me even more excited. I wanted to get there early so I can have time to see her get ready and to get ready with her. PS I think I was even more happy they were allowing me to wear makeup. So I started saying to myself, “ Hurry, Hurry, Hurry!” I brushed my teeth, wash my face and threw some clothes, and pack a bag with the dress I was to wear to the wedding. Then I eagerly ran down the steps to put my sneakers on. I finally met my mother in the kitchen and asked, “Mom can we leave to go to the hotel now?
“No” she replied.
She said, “If you don’t eat first, you don't have any energy for all the preparations for today. And plus I still have to get dressed. Did you even brush your teeth and wash your face yet?” 
With frustration, I replied, “Yes” and sat down at the table to eat my breakfast. I was having pancakes and sausage. I wanted to have more food, but that meant my mother would take longer. So I just threw my plate away and waited for her to get dressed. In about 45 minutes she was finally ready to leave.
Those 45 mins lasted a lifetime, each minute, every second seemed to last forever. I tried to pass by the time by watching tv. I turned it to 255. TeenNick. Which was my favorite at the time along with Disney Channel. It seemed to keep the anxiousness away for about a min or less, then it would slowly creep back in and I was anxious all over again. I was still hungry even though I didn’t want to admit it, so in the meantime, I raided the cabinets for any snacks I could find. I had about 5 pack of fruit snacks. Every 5 mins I would run to the bottom of the step and yell ¨ARE YOU READY YET?¨ each time was the same answer. She replied ¨ yet not¨ until she was. 
Fastword, we are now at the wedding. Everyone is dressed and ready to go. Somehow I've managed to keep my dress in tacked and not spoil my makeup, which had me looking the best I've looked in days. This was my opinion of course. There was an order in which we are to go. There are me and my cousin and then to follow was the groomsmen and bridesmaids and lastly the bride. She was happy, her smile was from ear to ear. You could see the joy in her eyes. Today was the day.  
  Although this was supposed to be a joyful moment it made me cry. Because I knew from this moment on I would come second. The relationship that we once had would no longer be because instead of my cousin she would now be known as Mrs.Adekunle. It would no longer be just the two of us. I know this was a selfish but that was all I could think ¨would she still remembers me?” In different stages of our lives, we change whether we know it or not. In the saying, ¨life goes on¨ I believed this could be stated in this situation as well. Because she was going into a new stage of life there were bound to be changed along with them. In a society like today, we don't control the change but the change controls us. It was out of me that she would be moving and starting a new life and the act of marriage is one of these milestones in your life that brings change. Whether we want it to happen or not. Because society sets rules as to what a normal life looks like, marriage being apart of it we learn that once you have entered marriage relationships will change. Just as the one with my cousin and I. After she saw me crying she came over and asked what was wrong, Once I told her she gave me reassurance, telling me that thing would change even though I knew things had already had.

Advanced Essay #1- Moving

Posted by Emily Caswell in English 3 · Block/Harmon · B Band on

Introduction: this essay describes how I felt moving from Virginia to Philadelphia and the different things I experienced from it. I talked about being upset and angry that my mom decided to do this to me and my siblings. I also mentioned everything i think i gained living here that I don't think I would have experienced in Virginia.

I moved from a small town called Bristow in northern Virginia when I was 8 years old. I remember the bright red door on the red brick row home that we lived in. There was a crabapple tree in the front yard. My mom got remarried and this new man had a job in Philadelphia. My mom had recently lost her job due to the mortgage company she was working for going bankrupt. I was 8 at the time, my siblings were 5 and 11.

Moving from the only place you’ve ever lived when you are old enough to remember it all is really hard. I lived in a small town in Northern Virginia where all my friends lived within walking distance from me and everyone knew each other. The first night I spent in Philadelphia was the first time I had ever been here. I was very surprised at what Philadelphia looked like. The only cities I’d ever been to were Washington DC and Rochester New York. It was baffling to me that some people didn’t even  have front yards that they played in when they were kids.

I remember the day I moved. It was mid February and incredibly cold outside. I had on a tank top and a thin sweater. My sister and I had a very close friend named Kati Flamm who lived in the town house next to ours. My mom, sister, brother, and myself were all standing outside the u-haul with all our stuff in it and hugged Kati and her parents. Everyone was crying but eventually it was too cold to stay outside any longer. My whole family packed into the u-haul and drove to Philadelphia to start the new part of our lives.

When I got to Philadelphia and started my life here it was a huge culture shock to me. There’s people who had no idea what living outside of the city looked like. There was people who had never left Philadelphia before. City living was not something I was familiar with. Both of my parents are from small towns, I had only ever known suburban living. Moving forward in my life to a big city that I had never experienced before

When I walked into what would now be my home it felt strange. I was living in a freestanding house next to a church, My room was a lot bigger than the one I had before. The biggest adjustment for me was living away from my friends. I couldn't play outside with them anymore. I walked in with a duffel bag in my hand containing my clothes that I needed before we unpacked. I remember feeling so afraid of living in Philadelphia. It scared me to move away from anything and everything I knew. When I sat down on my bed I started crying. One single tear ran down my face as I realized this was home for me now. I felt my face heat up, I knew it was bright red. I was angry at the world for this. My mom walked in after a few minutes to say goodnight since it had been a long day for us all. I heard her slow footsteps coming down the hallway and i wiped my face and pretended everything was fine. She was happy. Being a mom, she knew immediately that something wasn't right. She sat down next to me on my bed and I felt the whole mattress shit with her weight. She put her arm around me, i put my head on her shoulder. She told me this was good for us and that I should give it a chance. I didn’t say a word she walked out of my room with a heavy sigh. I laid down and fell asleep.

Coming from from a small town where you knew everyone in your school and all of their business to Philadelphia where I was placed in a private school was a big jump for me. I felt like my world was imploding I didn’t have friends and I hated living in the city. I wanted so badly to move home to Virginia. I was so confused by everything. Some people had different accents than I had ever heard before. City living was not something I was used to.

One thing I know moving to the city has done for me is that it has given me a new mindset and a new open mind I don’t know if I would have had if I stayed in my hometown. I’ve been exposed to things that I would have never seen in in Bristow. Experiences in Philadelphia have definitely changed me as a person and given me a wider view on life and everything in it.


Advanced Essay #1; Passed

Posted by Naseem Hameid in English 3 · Block/Harmon · B Band on

Introduction: 
This essay describes the dark times I had in middle school. I've changed a lot since then so if you personal know me you know I did. The reader should be more visualizing then reading or thinking. Even though I personal think I did a good job there could have been a lot of things I could changed or added. The theme of the story is not supposed to be depressing or sad, it's supposed to embrace the power of change.  

Passed

I’d never forget this moment. Sitting on the edge of a bridge. I felt the cold wind slapping me in the face. I was just, thinking. I’m not going to lie I had the most sharpest knife piercing slowly deadly into my hand. I could feel the cold warm beautiful blood slowly drip down from my arm, like when you eat ice cream and don’t have a napkin. I could tell that the burgundy blood wouldn’t stain the cold hard ground. 5 seconds later, it went plummeting down from my hand to the deep dark, distant waters. I just stared down, it’s like I could see everything mirroring off of the black dirty water. Next thing I knew, I was standing, on the edge. Just thinking. After that I put my foot out. Just thinking. Ten seconds later I was walking home. I didn’t jump from the gates of heaven to fall down to the nightmares of my personal hell. I was just thinking what if it actually happened.

          “What if I was just not standing in front of you right now.” The words went slowly through one of her ears and out the other, but they boomeranged back. She said,

           “Well, how do you think I would feel or how he would feel, if you did that then, I would bring you back and kill you myself.” I could hear her tears rolling down her face. I was, I was shocked.

           “Wait, we aren’t even friends, you don’t even talk to me like that.” Still as the words come out my mouth not my head, my mind was still focused on her previous words.

           “Well, how do you think I would feel or how he would feel, if you did that then, I would bring you back and kill you myself.” Still everything, everything was just so still, as she kept speaking similarities inclined on the conversation. I felt, different, wanted, accepted, and mostly loved. Then I felt the water, slowly purposely making its finally destination to the bottom of my face. I could hear her crying on the phone. It was so clear, like it wasn’t even 5 centimeters away from my ear. This was killing me, mentally. I found light in the abyss. I could basically say, I’m on the gates heaven, that reminded me that I didn’t want to jump from the gates of heaven, if had I would have fell down to the nightmares of my personal closed hell. The pounding of the metal on the door as the lock opens was loud to the point of fear rushing through your veins. It was my parents, coming back from the store. Husain bolted to my room with tears flooding to my chin.

           This was 7th grade, 2015. It was a new year same school same people same work, same bullies. Same words, same looks, same laughter, all the same counterfeit. I’m not going to lie, ever since middle school started nothing was the same, food didn’t taste the same, walking didn’t feel the same. Everything was different but the same.

           I had a lot of nicknames, there was “terrorist, bomber, suicide bomber, ka boom!”, and a lot of other ones that wouldn’t be appropriate to tell you. Everyday was the same, awake, school, sleep, repeat. I was getting nowhere. I was doing nothing. I was getting nowhere. Life had asked death once, why do people love me but hate you, death said, “Because you are a beautiful lie and I am a painful truth.” After middle school has ended, it was a new chapter, a new book, a new beginning. A fresh start.

           Unsuccessful people hold grudges, I stopped holding grudges. Started to move forward, forget about the past, it passed. It was the first time I could just be me, play my tunes, listen to the drum kick in for the first time in more than 4 years. I Started to wear the SnapBack backwards.

           Food started to taste good, I didn’t just go to school, I did much more than just be apart of the system. I was let loose, I was surfing a new wave. The last one had too many currents.


Advanced Essay #1: Concert Culture

Posted by Juliana Long in English 3 · Block/Harmon · B Band on

​Introduction
     This essay explores some of the darker aspects of general admission concerts. The highlights of this paper are the descriptive scenes because of how much they live up to their name. Important analysis of these scenes and how it relates back to my thesis is also essential to the essay. Regardless of how descriptive my scenes may be, there's always room for improvement. I aim to really make my reader feel as though they're there with me in the scene I'm describing.

Essay: Concert Culture
     Concerts are supposed to evoke feelings of excitement and exhilaration. Sometimes these feelings can evolve into creating danger in a concert space. I’ve had my fair share of experiences of this nature, and most of them actually took place at one specific concert: Halsey’s Philadelphia Badlands show at Festival Pier. This show, an outdoor one, conveniently took place on the thickest, hottest day that August had gifted us that summer. The vibrations from the humongous speakers in front of the stage shook my heart inside my chest as the bass dropped after the second verse of Control. I pushed my sweat-saturated hair out of my face to be able to see the stage better behind the sea of heads. My body was being jostled around like a ragdoll. The friend I was there with, Jill,  hooked her arm around my neck. I turned to look at her, concerned. 
“Can I have one of the starbursts my mom gave us?” she shouted over the screaming voices and blasting speakers. 
I reached into my pocket to retrieve a piece of candy that Jill’s mom, a nurse, had given us to provide us with some energy throughout the concert. Before I could fish one out, Jill’s grip on my neck tightened suddenly.
“I’m going to pass out,” she managed to say before her body became completely limp and all of her weight yanked at my neck. I grabbed her by the waist before she would have had time to fall to the ground. Stunned and unable to move, I stood helplessly in the middle of the crowd. I tapped the girl in front of me who was leaning against the barricade. She turned around, unamused. 
“She passed out, can you get the security guard?” I shouted, nodding towards the burly man donning a uniform, standing in front of the stage. A blur of movement followed, and before I knew it, Jill was being pulled over the barricade and carried away. 
Looking back on this experience, although initially I was shocked, it didn’t take long for me to spring into action without skipping a beat. My friend had just lost consciousness in the middle of a stampede of teenagers and I simply handed her body off to a security guard and enjoyed the rest of the show. Writing out this scene caused me to reflect on why I was so nonchalant about the occurrence. 
These days, concerts can be a rather unpleasant experience for youth. Everyone packed into one place, looking to be as close to one person as possible, is a recipe for disaster. When you have a stranger pressed up to you from every side, it’s hot, and you aren’t allowed to bring water inside a venue, it’s likely for people to pass out. I had heard so many stories about people passing out at shows that I almost expected it to happen to us. I was also expecting to have a run-in with someone at this show over who was in front of who and all of that drama. Lo and behold -- it happened to me.
Earlier that evening, before any of the mess that that fateful Halsey show had in store for me, it was time for doors. I had been standing outside the venue for a good 12 hours beforehand. (First come, first serve. Don’t judge!). There were about 4 lines of people being restrained by gates like cattle in a pen. Everyone was exhausted from standing out in the heat for so long. Makeup was smudged under eyes and any hope for cute hairstyles went out the window, considering the humidity level. We all stood impatiently listening to the security guard’s speech about not running once he opened the gates. Then, suddenly, the dam burst and a flow of teenage girls poured into the venue. I clutched Jill’s hand and ran blindly. As soon as I entered the venue, I spotted an open spot on the barricade perfect for two people. I tugged her hand and ran for it, slamming against the hot metal bars. I turned to my left but I didn’t meet Jill’s eyes - instead those of an angry looking woman. Suddenly, I felt myself being shoved backward and off the barricade. 
“Ow!” I exclaimed, stumbling back. 
“F*** off,” stated the woman, matter of factly.
“What?!” I shot back, baffled and angry.
“We’ve been here since two AM,” said a girl next to her who appeared to be her daughter.
“I’ve been here since 7 AM!” I retorted.
“Yeah, right. You just got here.” 
I was at a loss for words. I had just been assaulted by a 40-something-year-old woman who was now yelling obscenities at me. I looked around at the other people in the crowd as if to say, “What the hell is wrong with this lady? Did you see that?!”, but to no avail. Nobody in my surrounding area seemed phased. 
Frankly, although I was offended and scared, I wasn’t all that surprised. Just like I had with the passing out, I heard many stories about fights within crowds and people shoving. General admission concert culture is extremely harmful and the fact that these two happenings, occurring on the same night, barely phased me, is problematic. But this experience brings me to this question: Why do concerts turn people into such monsters?
The more dedicated the fanbase, the worse the crowd will be. The longing to be an inch closer to the artist that you’ve waited so long to see and feel so connected to can turn you into a real monster. When you care so much about someone that you’ve only seen on a screen for so long, and suddenly they’re in front of you, you don’t care who you have to shove to get closer to them. 
We do crazy things for love. At concerts, we tend to develop tunnel vision and we forget about how we’re treating others when we’re honed in on the one we love. This must change, though. We as concertgoers need to understand that the people standing around us love the person on stage just as much as we do, and that love never justifies hurting others to pursue it.

Advanced Essay #1: It's not just me

Posted by Cristina Valenzo in English 3 · Block/Harmon · B Band on

My goal for this essay was to bring attention to a topic that is overlooked and is not talked about very often, anxiety nervous and disorders as a whole, I wanted other's to hear my story and be able to relate to it. Overall I can say that I am very proud of my essay and at myself for being able to write about something so personal to me. I used to fined it really difficult to talk about my anxiety, so being able to put my thoughts into this essay was something that made me feel very proud. I hope that if anyone comes across this essay and it suffering from something similar they can relate and see that they are not alone.


It’s not just me  

  I could feel all eyes on me. I could already feel the heat creeping up my face, turning my face red. I was up on the stage and everyone was staring at me. I didn’t like being looked at, I lowered my eyes and hoped that everyone would just vanish. I didn’t understand why they had chosen me, me out of all the children, me. The air around me closed up around me, getting tight and started to suffocate me. The dim lights making me squint into the crowd below me. I could see their eyes trained on me, not blinking, motionless, just staring. The only other noise I could hear were the babies crying in the background, an occasional cough here and there and my heart beating, thump, thump, thump. I took a deep breathe in. Start! My brain yelled but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I knew I had to start and soon, so using every single ounce of courage I began, “in the book of eclastics, the apostle John wrote.” I pronounced every single world like they had taught me. By the end, I had read an entire scripture and had been confirmed. I had it done it. I took a deep breathe out.

    I was thirteen years old when I read in front of my church. Little to my knowledge I had tasted the beginning of my anxiety. Throughout my sixth grade year, I began to have mini attacks, there would be moments where I would freeze up and couldn't breathe, my chest would tighten up and the room would feel stuffy. No one would know I was having an anxiety attack until after it was over. I would be having them once or twice, up to three times a day. I was prescribed antidepressants, but nothing eased the aching pain I felt in my chest. I felt alone. My anxiety had a toll on my speaking skills, I began to stutter a lot and it would take me a while to form a complete thought. I was scared to stand up in class and talk or even raise my hand. When I told people about it, they took it as me being dramatic, little did they know that over 40 million teens across the US suffered from it. It wasn’t just me being dramatic, it was me beginning my disorder.

    “Cristina, what do you think.”

I looked from the back of the classroom. I had been snapped back into reality and all of a sudden the attention had turned to me. My face beaming red, breathe in, breathe out like I had been taught in my therapy. I slowly rose my head from the desk and faced the board,

“Can you please repeat the question.”

I felt stupid, now the teacher was going to know I wasn't listening and she was probably going to dock me points and she was probably going to call me out and everyone was going to turn and look at me. All these thoughts made my face turn an even deeper tone of red.

“Cristina, your answer please”

“Uh can you please come back to me”

As soon as the words exited my mouth I regretted it. Everyone was going to think I was stupid now.

 Back in middle school, my anxiety had been really bad, social anxiety was what I had been diagnosed with. I couldn't be looked at for too long without turning red or beginning to stutter. It was something that I had begun working on, my parents signed me up for therapy. I was going three times a week, for three hours. She taught me breathing techniques and how to cope with my anxiety. Over time it got a lot better, and I realized that I enjoyed speaking and participating, however, it was not something that came overnight. Sadly not every teen gets the same help I did. Many people fail to see anxiety as a disorder, they look at it as a personal matter and fail to recognize that it is a societal issue. We have to ask ourselves why the anxiety levels for teens rose 60% over the last ten years. It is a problem we have as a whole society, not something that a teen is making up to get out of giving his speech in history. It is a problem we need to address.

I officially stopped going to therapy my freshman year of high school. It was a great feeling knowing that I could confidently give a speech in front of hundreds of people or just raise my hand in class without turning red or shying away. I still live with my anxiety every day and I still have moments when I want to cawl in a hole and hide. Anxiety is not something that is easily dealt with and it’s something lots of teens are being diagnosed with now and we have to find a solution to it. I can proudly say I overcame it.


Advance Essay #1: Family Values

Posted by Bahtyah Ward in English 3 · Block/Harmon · B Band on

​Introduction: The most important thing in this essay is valuing the loved ones we still have. Family matters so much to me and I felt proud to write this. It really is a blessing to have family join together. I would like to improve my use of metaphors in this essay next time. When reading this, I want the audience to understand that people leave our lives everyday, we should cherish every moment.

It seems likes family gatherings are so rare lately. We used to come together and party about everything. Whoever was in the kitchen would bless our plates with so much food. So much fried chicken, potato salad, ribs, hot dogs, barbecue and all. We knew better not to eat before the children. I was lucky to be young. These days were golden like my corn on the cob. It was all about the favorite cousin coming over, that’s when the real party started. 
“Y’all wanna walk to the corner store real quick?” my cousin yelled.
That’s all I needed to hear. Water ice for everyone, I licked the water ice that began to melt and the sweet food coloring stained into my lips. No matter what street we ran up, it was always a race. My family is full of track stars, so athletic. Summer heat never stopped us from playing games on the patio.
“Take out the playing cards, who wants war in speed?”  my mom yelled. 
We all know my mom was best at card games  but my cousin stood tall and took the challenge. Steady eyes watched the intense game of speed. The game seemed to move so quickly, in fact I never even caught on. Cards slapped against the table and sly comments slipped into the wind. Finally the silence broke, the game was easily won by my mother. We all cheered and made jokes about my cousin. The defeat was in the air, we could all smell. It was times like these, where I would take a small step back and observe my family. Some of us all look alike, so many generations all in one area. It had been so long since we all gathered at one home. My family has been so close yet so far away from each other, it was not everyday that so many of us could join the fun. From sunrise to sunset, I had to wake up really early, my mom pulls me out of the bed and to the kitchen. So many different smells of sweets, spicy, and mild hit my nose. I love food but not when I have to cook for my relatives. It is the fun and conversation that I had, it made my day go by so much faster. My family brought baby pictures and colored t-shirts to the party. Love floated through the air like a lost balloon.  We knew the routine, the street lights coming on and the sun going down didn’t stop the party. The smell of grilled chicken and fried chicken still filled the air. Endless games of tag, manhunt, and double-dutch was the ultimate entertainment.  My family grew together as a competitive bunch. There was no loss allowed or you had the walk of shame back into the house. I always won in Monopoly games. Being around my favorite cousins always gives me confidence, we danced together. The cookout anthems played, and our hips swayed. I always felt comfortable. There was no wrong way to  two-step, just my mother had no co-ordernation. The grown folks had there ‘grown folk’ talk, I wasn’t allowed to know. I envied my second and third cousins who got in on the gossip. I know they felt special, all deep into the family business. I never worried too much about what I was missing out on, my cool aunt came over to tell me all the gossip. It’s always nice to have that one cool aunt.
“Do not tell a soul, it’s our secret. Grown folks business is not much of anything, a few inappropriate jokes here and there. Do not rush to grow up, Tyah. Cherish everything you have, cherish your family. We are all we got out here in the crazy world.” my aunt whispered in my ear.
In the moment, I did not understand why she whispered that to me, I was only thirteen. I sat down on the patio and wondered about what my future family would be like. Immediately I ignored those thoughts, I told myself to think about my life in that moment. I appreciated the priveleges I have as a pre-teen. I was grateful.   I busied myself with preparing my bed for a sleepover, my cousins never went home on family nights, It was best we spent the most time with each other. My mother always concluded these nights with a little saying, it always stuck with me.
“Say goodnight to everybody, hug them too. You never know the last time you’ll see any 
of them.” and like that she closed the bedroom door and we slept. My last thought before falling asleep, I asked myself if we would all be able to keep coming together like this.

ENG3-030

Term
2018-19

Other Websites

Launch Canvas

Teachers