Happy Thanksgiving!!!!!
In honor of the holiday, I wanted to say "Thank you" to all of my wonderfully talented student writers. For those of you who have submitted to our blog, "Thank you for sharing". I truly love this extension of our class. Thank you for your honesty, your passion, your brilliance, and your guts. As you all know, some of the pieces have been funny, serious, sarcastic, prolific, and sorrowful because they represent YOU.
Writers write about what they know.
Never stop writing, thinking, creating and of course, reading.
I hope you are enjoying your reprieve from our classroom, but take the time to participate in our virtual classroom. Your comments are due Thursday, December 4th. I'm asking that your read ALL submissions (there are 13) and that you leave comments for 3 frosh pieces and 3 senior pieces, for a grand total of 6.
Have a fantastic Thanksgiving.
Feed your bellies, but most importantly feed your souls :)
I'll see you Monday. xoxoxo
Wednesday, November 26, 2014
Austin--A Modern 'Monster'
A Modern ‘Monster’
Datalog 000000001;
I woke up. The darkness surrounded me and the deafening silence was startling. I was
terrified. I remained in this state of utter nothingness for a minute. Suddenly I heard a loud pop,
and could hear. I was shortly after assaulted by the sounds of the world. I could hear grinding
metal and rolling gears, I heard the whirr of motors, the ticking of clocks, the hollow clunks of
thick plastics. I could hear the muffled noises of birds singing, I heard gentle breathing and
distinct heartbeats. Just a moment after the assault on my hearing had begun, my eyes popped
into existence and I could see the world that had created these noises. I screamed, yet I could
make no noise.
When I looked around, I saw a number of various contraptions swinging and moving.
Directly below my head was a conveyor belt that rolled me forward. On either side of the belt
was a number of spindly white arms with various machines on their ends. Beyond the arms, the
remainder of the facility stretched outwards, four white walls enclosing an expanse of conveyor
belts, arms, and wheels. A number of people in large, white coats wandered about the facility,
monitoring this and that, though they never interfered with the machines.
Before me lay a number of identical black, oblong balls. We were lined up in a single
file line up the conveyor and I watched as the arms grinded away excess metal, welded
additional components, and inserted a number of cords and chips into these black balls. Bright
and vibrant sparks exploded from the arms and flew in brilliant contrast to the white background.
I followed and received treatment identical to those before me. A larger arm descended before
me holding a large white disc. The disc was made of thick ceramic and glowed with a warm red
glow. The arm lowered the disk over me and placed it on my face. The mask glowed to life and a
number of odd characters filled my vision.
As I continued to explore this new fascination I began to see the end of the belt. One by one, the
balls ahead of me dropped suddenly and were carried away in a small white box. One of the arms
inserted some kind of microchip into my face and I could feel the world around me. The soft
breeze of the building and the tough rubber beneath me were overshadowed by the violent pain
of the grinders and welders which were disfiguring me from behind. I tried again to shriek once
again, but to no avail. I moved further down the belt and could now see the end quite clearly, it
was just two feet ahead of me when I felt a new arm reach behind my head from above—
Datalog 000000001;
I woke up. The darkness surrounded me and the deafening silence was startling. I was
terrified. I remained in this state of utter nothingness for a minute. Suddenly I heard a loud pop,
and could hear. I was shortly after assaulted by the sounds of the world. I could hear grinding
metal and rolling gears, I heard the whirr of motors, the ticking of clocks, the hollow clunks of
thick plastics. I could hear the muffled noises of birds singing, I heard gentle breathing and
distinct heartbeats. Just a moment after the assault on my hearing had begun, my eyes popped
into existence and I could see the world that had created these noises. I screamed, yet I could
make no noise.
When I looked around, I saw a number of various contraptions swinging and moving.
Directly below my head was a conveyor belt that rolled me forward. On either side of the belt
was a number of spindly white arms with various machines on their ends. Beyond the arms, the
remainder of the facility stretched outwards, four white walls enclosing an expanse of conveyor
belts, arms, and wheels. A number of people in large, white coats wandered about the facility,
monitoring this and that, though they never interfered with the machines.
Before me lay a number of identical black, oblong balls. We were lined up in a single
file line up the conveyor and I watched as the arms grinded away excess metal, welded
additional components, and inserted a number of cords and chips into these black balls. Bright
and vibrant sparks exploded from the arms and flew in brilliant contrast to the white background.
I followed and received treatment identical to those before me. A larger arm descended before
me holding a large white disc. The disc was made of thick ceramic and glowed with a warm red
glow. The arm lowered the disk over me and placed it on my face. The mask glowed to life and a
number of odd characters filled my vision.
As I continued to explore this new fascination I began to see the end of the belt. One by one, the
balls ahead of me dropped suddenly and were carried away in a small white box. One of the arms
inserted some kind of microchip into my face and I could feel the world around me. The soft
breeze of the building and the tough rubber beneath me were overshadowed by the violent pain
of the grinders and welders which were disfiguring me from behind. I tried again to shriek once
again, but to no avail. I moved further down the belt and could now see the end quite clearly, it
was just two feet ahead of me when I felt a new arm reach behind my head from above—
Alec--Ball is Life
Ball
is Life
Basketball. Simple enough, a sphere that goes through a
hoop, right? But, what does it mean? To
some, it’s a useless sport that measures no value. To others, it’s boring to watch, but fun to
play. But to those enthusiasts, it’s
what they indulge in. It’s their
pass-time, their entertainment, fitness, and mentality. Without basketball, those certain individuals
don’t know what to do. But why is it so? At least once in their life, everyone picks
up a basketball and does something with it.
All those children no matter where have tried to shoot “something” into
a “hoop”. Whether it be the basketball
court, the trash can, the recycling bin, a hula hoop and a rubber ball. They’ve all done it. Don’t try and deny it. You have at least tried it. And why is that so? Monkey see, monkey do? Maybe. Inspiration? Close. Because it holds something more than just the
moves and the sport? Exactly that.
Basketball expands way more outside its circle of NBA and what we watch
on TV. It’s about focus, discipline,
inspiration, and fun.
In
basketball, we create focus. We focus on
the game being played. We focus on
Derrick Rose’s health. We focus on how
the game will play out. We focus so much
into how things will be, it also applies to how it is outside. That focus we can put into that, can go into
other aspects of one’s work, school, or whatever it is.
In
basketball, we use discipline. We
discipline ourselves to watch the game so profusely. We discipline ourselves just as Kobe did to
perfect Michael Jordan’s jump shot. We
discipline ourselves to work harder. The
discipline we see, is something that we use to motivate ourselves in life.
In
basketball, we have inspiration. We
inspire ourselves every time we hear Michael Jordan’s story of not making his high
school basketball team. We inspire
ourselves to learn that move we just saw on TV.
We put inspiration in the great comebacks and find motivation through
that. This inspiration is something
greatly seen through other outlets, but very evident here.
And
most importantly, in basketball, we find fun.
The laughs we get after a crazy missed shot. The fun we get out of playing with
friends. The joy we get from making that
shot you’ve been trying to get all day.
The fun and happiness we gain in such a simple action portrays that of
the way one should feel almost all the time.
Basketball
doesn’t just stick as one “thing”. It’s
more of one big “thing” with so many small intricacies that it becomes an
infinite amount of “things”. And isn’t
that what life is all about? But to make
things evident, it only means one thing. “Ball is life”.
Reema--Are school uniforms really necessary?
Are school uniforms really necessary?
School uniforms are an extremely debatable
topic. Some students love it, while others despise it. Statistics show that 400
voters in the American Southwest voted no for school uniforms and only 64 voted
yes. When I was put into a charter school all through middle school, I always
thought school uniforms should only be enforced for high school students, and
not in middle school. High school is usually the place kids get bullied the
most whether it is for their clothes not being too expensive or not wearing
designer clothes. Wearing uniforms would prevent gangs or cliques from forming.
It would also limit the school rules on dress code. Parents wouldn’t need to
keep up with the prices that come with the trends. Modesty and respect will
become important in the eyes of teenagers a lot more because they won’t be so
worried about what to wear the next day. Now that I’m a freshman in high school
I still agree with my statement about school uniforms but at the same time I
disagree. When I was in the charter school I had to wear a uniform and I
personally did not like it. It was plain and just not me. Although I was forced
to wear it I feel like it made everyone’s lives so much easier.
Some of the pros of school uniforms are less
students will be bullied for the clothes they wear. Another pro is some people
aren’t as fortunate as others to constantly buy clothes. Students are harassed
for the clothes they wear or the designer shoes they have on verbally,
physically, and socially but when wearing a uniform all of that would stop.
Every child would feel equal. School uniforms also show your school spirit. A
lot of students who wear uniforms say that they feel more proud of their
school. Wearing school colors or even the logo gives students a feeling of
being more connected to their school and classmates.
Following the pros are some cons
about school uniforms. Designer clothes are generally expensive, but so are uniforms.
Some students stated that they are scratchy and either too cold or too hot. As
students grow they have to replace the uniforms. Some people think if their child wears the
same thing as everyone else their individuality will be suppressed. In some schools
that’s not the case. Accessories like hair clips, bracelets, and necklaces can
make the uniforms look better. Some schools don’t allow it. Some parents also
say that by wearing school uniforms their child can’t express themselves
through clothing. I disagree. Students have after school, weekends, and
holidays to express themselves.
Teachers think if there students
wear uniforms it would focus on learning with the removal of unnecessary
distractions. They also think that students won’t be bullied as much; students
will find any reason to make fun of the person they don’t seem to like. The
researcher, Virginia Draa of Youngstown State University, reported that the
graduation rates have gone up 11 % in schools that require a uniform.
Non-uniform school’s graduations rates have gone down 4.6%.There are some pros
and some cons to wearing school uniforms. In other words students are far more
likely to succeed when wearing a uniform. Wearing a uniform for 3 years definitely
opened my eyes to the bigger things in life and not just the clothes you wear.
Karl--Acceptance
Acceptance
The pitch black sky and the deathly cold air blended
perfectly to represent Nehc's state of mind. Everyone had been picked up by
their parents to return home, leaving the poor boy alone. He stood there by the
flag pole, wallowing in shame. The dark night covered his tears but one could
still hear the attempts to restrain an emotional breakdown. He stood there,
like a statue, as if he was not intending to never return. Just as Nehc was going
to commit to the plan he thought about for years, one of his greatest
companions confronted him.
She asked him "What's wrong?"
He replied with silence.
She stood firm and continued to question him. It was
not until twenty minutes of her one sided conversation when Nehc finally
responded. He looked up at her, and moved his mouth, however no sound was
produced. After a moment of confusion, she understood Nehc and pulled out her
phone for him. Hesitantly, Nehc reached for the medium of communication and
began to tell her about the destruction of his world. Patiently, she stood
there enduring the biting cold and fatigue. When Nehc finished typing out what
he could not verbalize, he returned the phone to her. She read the lines that
described her friend's state of mind and replied:
"You have not failed, I am very proud of you and
everyone else is too. You should not feel this way because you do deserve the
love of your friends and teammates. They stood by your side through the
competition and helped you because they wanted to. You are not a burden, in
reality you are a blessing to those that truly know you because you inspire
everyone to work harder and radiate
positivity. You are the only person that thinks you are unworthy, but I need
you to believe the truth: you are special."
Nehc could feel the sincerity and love in her words.
He nodded, and a smile appeared on her face because she knew that she had
finally gotten through to him. She patted him on the back and asked:
"Are
you okay to go home?"
He nodded to her with the bright smile he always had
in the past, and got into his car.
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