A Cornucopia of Writers

 November Writers!!!!

Image:  www.agefotostock.com

This month we have 10 writers.  You know the drill!  Read all submissions.  Choose your favorites and write thoughtful, kind and encouraging comments for your top three (3) .

Your comments are due Wednesday, December 9 by 11:59PM.

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November Writers,

Check your page on the blog and read your comments.  You do not have to leave comments this month, only if you want to.

Can't wait to see you this week!

I sure have missed your little squares and smiles :)

xo,

Mrs. Solano

A Holiday Guide to: The Gift of Gift Giving--Melissa

 We all know November as the easy-going autumn season full of pumpkin spice lattes and Thanksgiving meals. This month is the perfect transition into the festive chaos that we call the holidays! Everything about the holidays brings me all the joy, nostalgia, and gifts! Gift giving is one of the many things I look forward to during the holiday season--because what better way to share your with gifts?

If you’re anything like my Mom, you might find the art of gift giving to be stressful. So why does Christmas shopping make us feel stressed or anxious? Maybe you aren’t so much of a creative person, maybe you’re stingy, or maybe you don’t have a fortune to spend on each of your 30 cousins and 13 aunts and uncles. Whatever the case may be, I am here to help you out with a gift guide.

The first not-so-obvious-step is to recognize that Christmas shopping is an all year event. There is no beginning or end to Christmas shopping, because sales happen all year! Whenever you’re shopping and you see something you think would be a great gift, take a photo of it, and jot it down in your notes. You could also buy the item right then and there, and stow it away until the holidays. The main premise is to make a list of items or ideas year round that you think would be great presents. This helps to make it easier for you when you shop during the holidays because you’ll have a better and clearer understanding of what you will be getting for gifts.

Next, you’ll need to think about who you would like to give a gift to. It can be anyone near or far. It could be your parents, siblings, best friends, significant other, or even your teacher from 2nd grade. Once you have thought of this person(s), think about your relationship with them. Consider the intimacy of your relationship, what their hobbies are,how old they are, what their interests are... and even what your interests are, too! That is the secret to gift giving: considering what you like for yourself. I know this may sound counterintuitive, because you’re supposed to be thinking about what that person likes, right? But allow me to rephrase the idea like this: “Would you like this gift if it was given to you, and how would you feel?”. This eliminates the possibility of giving someone a “bad gift”. Take this tip as a grain of salt, and don’t get me wrong--you shouldn’t make your interests a priority when it comes to brainstorming for your gifts. Just keep this tip as a small, whispering voice hiding in your head. What is helpful about this tip is that it allows you to add a personal twist to each of your gifts; because each one of your relationships are different.

My final tip for you is to BE YOURSELF. Like I mentioned before, these gifts aren’t just boxes sitting under the tree. They are symbolic of your connection with this person, and how you view them. With that being said, do not over think! You don’t need to purchase an item as a gift. Always remember you can ​make​ gifts, too. Maybe you know how to crochet, knit, or sew. You can make them a bag, headband, scarf, or a beanie for their dog. Perhaps you’re an artist! Why don’t you paint them a piece and frame it? Maybe you have a good eye with the camera. Print them a photo album! Maybe you are a good cook or baker, you can whip them up something in the kitchen for them. There are countless gifts you can make and not have to purchase. Always remember that “it’s the thought that counts” (I’m sure you’ve never heard that one before). At the end of the day, the value of your gifts will come from your thoughtfulness. Think about what feelings or thoughts this gift will evoke from them, and you’ll know you have given a good gift when you treasure the memory of that exchange.

Here is a brief holiday gift guide with some items/ideas that may resonate with some of the people who might be on your list:

• ●  Slippers

• ●  Pajama set

• ●  Starbucks mug set

• ●  Bath & Body Works gift set (I would be wary of this gift due to fragrances! Some people

  are very sensitive. If you are not confident in what scents are okay with, I would

  recommend a gift card instead)

• ●  Stationary

• ●  Bags (Backpack/handbag/fanny pack)

• ●  Art set

• ●  Hair accessories/tools (curling iron, scrunchies, etc)

• ●  Their favorite sports jersey/merchandise

• ●  Vinyls

• ●  Record player

• ●  Bluetooth speaker

• ●  Face steamer

• ●  LED Lights

• ●  Decorative lamp/rugs

• ●  Hardware tools set

• ●  Homemade baked goods

• ●  Home cooked meals

• ●  Beanies/scarves

• ●  Nintendo switch

• ●  iPad Mini

• ●  Airpods

• ●  Socks

• ●  Photo album

Toxic Beauty--Caitlin

 “Mama, am I pretty?” tearing her eyes away from the reflection of herself, the mother stared into the wide eyes of her daughter. The little girl bore a wide smile, showing off her missing front teeth, black hair which had been tied up moments ago now rested on her shoulders. She was adorable, with little cheeks that strangers and relatives alike liked to squeeze and skin that shined whiter than snow. The mother was filled with pride, not only had her son been handsome, but her two daughters were beautiful. Perfect little dolls that served as a trophy to boast about around their leering relatives.

“The prettiest, anak” the mother said.

“Mama, am I pretty?” the 12-year-old girl asked in tears. Gone was the snow-white skin, but instead replaced with a warm tan caused by too many hours in the sun with her friends. Her missing teeth, now replaced with much bigger ones that took up most of her mouth. The little cheeks were filled to the brim with fat. Along with her stomach and thighs which seemed to jiggle too much when she walked. The mother had noticed the change, and she knew the relatives had started to talk.

The girl had noticed it too. The adoration she felt growing up as a toddler had completely vanished. The harsh feeling of judgment crawled up her spine the moment she met eyes with anyone in that wretched family. It was pitiful really, the shining star had fallen from grace. She went from the ideal swan to the ugly duckling the second she strayed from their definition of beauty.

As she stared at herself in the mirror, the ugly duckling started to wonder why she had let herself go this much. God had been generous enough to bless her with natural beauty, yet she let the gift go to waste.

“Beauty is everything, my dear, without it you’re nothing.” The words her lola had whispered to her as an impressionable child echoed through her mind.

I am nothing. I am nothing. I am nothing.

What had been a meaningless comment by her lola had begun to root itself deep within her very being. At first, it was a meer seed planted into infertile soil, and it remained that way until she reached the tender of 12.

Her older sister had just started high school, she had long shed the chubby cheeks, stubby legs, and the minuscule amount of baby fat she had in the first place. Instead, it was replaced with a sharp jawline, long slim legs, and a slender build. The relatives were enthralled by the older sister’s beauty, praising the mother on a job well done.

The little girl, of course, did not mind the praise directed towards her sister, she was in fact very beautiful. She was actually very proud of having a sister that pretty and viewed her as a role model. She didn’t mind when the titas called her the lesser version of her sister. She didn’t mind the backhanded compliments thrown at her under the scrutiny of many eyes. She didn’t mind it when they told her she would be prettier if she lost weight. If her skin was lighter. If she didn’t eat so much. Except, she did mind.

The seed planted years prior by the words of her lola had grown to its full size, entrapping her in a void of self-degradation and shame. It chipped away at the wall she had built around herself the second the harsh words were spewed at her. The ugly duckling had grown up coddled by her immediate family, only to be subjected to the harsh reality forced on her by her extended family. In their eyes, she was less than perfect, imperfect to be exact, and that was the greatest sin a girl could ever commit.

Tearing her eyes away from the reflection of herself she made eye contact with her mother standing in the doorway of her room. The mother could only smile in pity as she stared at the tears running down the face of her daughter.

“Anak, come eat dinner is ready,” the mother said before she closed the door.

The girl looked down at the fat of her stomach stretching the material of her shirt, “but I don’t wanna eat” she whispered to herself.

That night an ugly duckling could be seen solemnly finishing her plate of food surrounded by swans.

2 months had passed and the girl had long forgotten the pain caused by the words thrown at her. Most likely caused by the lack of contact with her extended family, courtesy of her mother, although she hadn’t admitted to it. Even though the mother never verbally stated it, she could tell she was regretful and angry at the hurtful comments made by her family. The young girl had long forgotten it though and cheerfully continued to be herself, and for that the other was grateful. She silently prayed that nothing would knock off the smile on the little girl's face as she watched her happily munch on the hashbrowns she made. Not sensing the incoming calamity that would destroy the girl’s defenses.

That calamity came in the form of her father. The father loved his daughter dearly but did not possess the same gentleness and kindness his wife had. Often brash and inconsiderate, he spoke his mind with a rough voice. The man had just picked up his two daughters from school, his oldest son had long graduated and had gone off to college. Upon their arrival home, he

watched as his youngest daughter ran to the freezer to cook up her favorite hashbrowns. Slightly disgusted by the appetite the girl possessed at a young age the father could only watch as she placed 5 hashbrowns in the oven.

“Are you sharing the others with your sister?” he asked. “No, I’m just hungry.”

“You know, maybe if you didn’t eat that much you would look more like your sister and less like a pig,” the father said in his loud voice.

Freezing at the words uttered by her own father, the girl could feel the walls she had built up completely shattered. She could take insults or backhanded compliments uttered by jeering titas, titos, and cousins, but nothing prepared her for the man's comments.

Quietly, the heartbroken girl turned off the oven and walked up the stairs closing the door, as well as herself from the outside world. She stood in the same spot she stood 2 months prior.

“You really are nothing” she whispered to herself as the first tear of the night rolled down her face.

As days passed, the family noticed a change in the young girl. She constantly begged the mother to sign her up for sports, something she had no interest in before. She avoided the sun like a vampire, only going outside when deemed necessary. Most noticeably she locked herself in her room and away from the noise of her family, and most importantly away from the onslaught of rude comments spewed at her by her father. All of which never reached the ears of her mother. The dad thought nothing of the words he spewed and deemed them nothing, while the daughter acknowledged the man’s ignorance and didn’t want to try anymore.

Years passed and the girl was in high school, much like her sister had been before. She walked around the halls with anxiety brewing in the pit of her stomach. The girl so wounded by the judgemental stares of her family could not walk in public without thinking people were judging her. She could not meet new people without assuming they either hated her or thought she was ugly.

The girl, worn out by her day at school hurried home with hasty steps. Upon her arrival, she walked up the stairs to the entrance of her room and stood in front of her mirror. Hearing a noise to the left of her, the girl looked away from her reflection in the mirror and made eye contact with her mother.

“Mama, am I pretty?”

The mother looked at her youngest daughter. She was beautiful, the chubby cheeks had disappeared and was replaced with a delicate jaw and slim face. The protruding fat that had

once stuck out was nowhere to be seen and was instead replaced with a toned abdomen. The result of the endless sports her daughter subjected herself to. Her chipmunk teeth, nicely straightened out by braces, and her light skin shining bright.

The mother felt herself tear up, such a beautiful girl had been exposed to the toxic beauty standards created by society but enforced by those closest to her. The girl had successfully bloomed into a beautiful swan but threw away her own confidence and happiness she had when she was younger. All in pursuit of the subjective topic of beauty. Not once in her life had the girl been ugly, she was just made to believe those lies as an impressionable young girl. The daughter stood there looking desperately at her mother, waiting for the reply she had heard countless times before. The girl was beautiful, but she was broken, and only one thing would appease her.

The mother smiled solemnly, “the prettiest,” she whispered.

Who Are You Talking To?--Samantha

Allison sat in first period, unable to focus. There was deadline after deadline sloppily strewn across the board, her teacher sitting at his desk arguing with someone on the classroom phone.

“OMG, Allison! Did you hear about Gwen’s party later? You have to come!” Josie exclaimed suddenly, startling Allison.
“I can’t,” she began, “I have to watch my little sister after school.”
“Seriously! It’s a Friday! Your parents can’t just watch her?” she pleaded.
“No.” Allison said bluntly.
The bell rang and she quickly picked up her things.
“How are you doing? I know you want to go, but you're scared aren’t you? No one you really know will be there, and Josie will probably be with her boyfriend anyway. That’s why you made up that excuse!”
“Stop it.” Allison whispered.
“What was that?” Josie asked.
“Nothing, I’ll see you later.”
Second and third period dragged on for what seemed like forever and Allison thought she’d never make it to lunch. Finally, the lunch bell rang and everyone bolted out of the glass doors to lunch lines.
“Oooh, where are we gonna sit today? Oh, we can’t sit there, that’s where the...”
“Hush, please go away.” Allison mumbled.
“Hey, Allie! Want to sit with us today!” Josie screeched.
“Okay, how many people are you sitting with?”
“What? Why does it matter?”
“Ohhhh, nope. If there’s more than 6, you won’t be okay. You can’t...”
“Shhhh.” she mumbled again.
“Hmm?” Josie replied.
“Nothing, I’m okay. Let’s go.”

Allison sat down at the crowded table. She didn’t feel like eating that day and had lost her appetite anyway after dissecting frogs in anatomy before lunch.
“Just talk to them. Oh, they might not hear you because you talk quietly. Well...”
“Please stop! Stop it!” Allison said under her breath.
“Allison, who are you talking to?”
“Nobody, I’m sorry.”
“See, you had to say sorry again. Why do you say sorry for every little-”
“Shut up! Shut up! Stop it! Stop it!” the words bursted out of her mouth before she could stop. Everyone at the lunch table was staring at her. She got up frantically and ran to the bathroom. Josie chased after her.

Allison sat quietly in the bathroom stall. “Allie? It’s Josie.”

“Hi. I’m sorry. You can go back. I just need a minute.”
“Allie, I’m not leaving.” Josie stood outside the bathroom stall.
“Look what you did! You made a big scene. Now she’s not gonna leave. You just drew so much attention to yourself. Seriously, why did you-”
“Just stop it, please stop it. I can’t take it anymore.” Allison started crying.

“Allison, I'm not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong. Who do you keep talking to?”
Allison opened the bathroom stall, her mascara was streaked down her face.
“Allison, there’s no one in here. Who are you talking to? You keep whispering to someone, who is it?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Why Allie, why can’t you tell me?”
Allison didn’t know how to explain that the “person” she was talking to, wasn’t a person at all, but a voice, all in her head.

A Heart for the Nations--Vanessa

 

After two neverending plane rides and a six-hour layover, reality set in, and the world around me felt surreal. The city bustle seemed louder and the flashing lights from every fast food joint that I solemnly missed appeared blinding. Every summer for the past three years I have chosen to spend two weeks in a foreign country along with my church to serve others, and the first day back from my first trip always seems to leave me speechless. My first trip was to Cambodia with a group of fifteen individuals who I now call family. When I returned home, everything seemed different than before. Even though I went on the mission trip to minister and lend a hand, the people of this country I volunteered in showed me such compassion and selflessness in trying to give more than they received. Through the bigheartedness experienced in Cambodia, it changed the way I saw my own life when I returned home.

Through my youth group, I was able to have traveled to three different countries: Cambodia, Thailand, and Kenya. Whether it was in refugee camps or orphanages, my time volunteering in these places taught me to not take the little things for granted. While each trip came with different experiences, the first trip I took was the most impacting for me. We had been preparing for the trip for months. As a team we raised money, and mentally prepared ourselves for what was to come. We left on July 8, 20I7, and returned on July 22, 2017. When I returned I had family members calling to see if I made it home safely and ask a litany of the same repeated questions to see how my trip went. Most of the time it was hard to answer these questions since I was still processing how I felt about the whole experience. Nevertheless, that mission trip gave me an eye-opening awareness to understand how privileged I am.

After arriving back home in the states, I reflected a lot on my experience abroad. The first thing I noticed when I came back from my first trip was how big my house was in comparison to the way it looked when I had left. Not only did I realize how fortunate my living conditions were, but I also saw how little things changed. My body had become accustomed to the smaller portions of food and the homegrown produce of Cambodia. I became more aware of the fact of how drastically different developing countries are through the hunger and lack of shelter I saw. The poverty I saw in each city and village I traveled to was shocking, but the strength in the joy of the community was inspiring. Most of the time spent in Cambodia was with the youth of the city. We had an amazing opportunity to host a three day youth camp where we truly got to know the people of the city. After spending some time in the capitol, the team and I ventured to a village about six hours from Angkor Wat. While in the village, my heart continued to melt for the people of Cambodia. Even though the people I met in Cambodia dealt with food shortages and lived in homes no bigger than the average living room in the U.S., they were the most joy-filled people I had ever met. The children who played with rocks and jump ropes made with connected hair ties seemed far more grateful than I could have ever pictured. Instead of allowing fear for the future to rise for the little they had, they found hope in each counted blessing. The people of Cambodia brought a new understanding for me in knowing that not everything I had I necessarily needed, which continued to unravel as I proceeded to go on two other mission trips the following two years.

The experiences in Cambodia made way for me to find a new perspective on life now filled with gratefulness for all that I had. Poverty isn’t just a definition, but a societal issue. In the world I live in, it's easy to go by waking up in a home and eating as I please while not considering how blessed I am to have these privileges. After coming back from my first trip to Cambodia, I came to appreciate simple pleasures I had taken for granted and learned to find joy no matter the circumstances. What began as a way of serving others triggered a new way of thinking about life for me.

How to build a PC--Anthony

To all that may want to get into gaming for cheap or make a computer for your specific need without having to buy unnecessary hardware, building a PC is perfect for you. The most important part of building a PC isn’t even building it though. First, you need to pick your parts based on the intended purpose of the PC and the price point you wish to meet. The price for a gaming PC can range from about $400 to over $5000 based on what you are looking for. There are plenty of websites to help you find good deals on parts and some to even help you find the parts you need for the work you’d end up doing on the PC. One great website I use is https://pcpartpicker.com​. This site will let you pick your parts and see the total price for the desired build you plan on making.

In this guide, I plan on guiding you through making a gaming PC for about 1500 dollars that will give good performance in gaming and productivity applications. The image below is the parts I would recommend for this price point.

Now assuming your parts came in its is time to start building, it is recommended that you wait until all of your parts come in before start building for the sake of organization.

Take the motherboard out of the packaging and place it on top of the box it came in.

Get ready to start the assembly process and use an anti-static bracelet if available. Put the CPU in the socket and press down on the bar next to the CPU socket. (Do not remove plastic cover unless directed to by the motherboard manufacture instructions most of them will come out when the bar is pressed down on the CPU.)

Next, you want to insert your CPU cooler which would most likely be the stock cooler that comes with the CPU. To do this you need to get the hardware from the motherboard packaging and align it on the back and then find the screw holes on the front of the motherboard. You will want to screw the screws down in a star pattern to assure it has even pressure applied. Make sure to connect the fan power cable to the motherboard where it is marked.

Now insert your ram. This step is easy all you have to do pull the tabs on the socket then align the notch on the stick with the notch on the socket and push hard until you hear one or two clicks. (It takes a reasonable amount of pressure so don’t be too scared to push hard but if you feel like you are putting too much pressure make sure you are aligned properly.)

Now you want to insert your motherboard into your case. To do this you need to make sure your case has the proper stand-offs in which are simple thumb screws that the motherboard screw into. (Your specific case instructions will give specific positions depending on your motherboard.)

Now insert the power supply and connect to the motherboard there should be a few places to connect it so pay close attention to the motherboard ports.

Now you will be connecting the SSD to the motherboard and power supply

Now insert the GPU into the top PCI-e slot on the motherboard and then insert the PCI-e 8-pin connectors on top of the card.

Now you want to cable manage the back to go from this

Finally, you’ll install any operating system you want via a thumbstick or SSD, you can pay for windows or use an alternative OS like Linux for free. Either way, your computer just needs to be set up through the software and you’ll be all set to buy and play some games or do your homework ;)!

My excitement--Rebekah

 Numbness comes over my body and it goes still, I can’t move. As I force my eyes open all I see is my darkened room then I realize what is going on: another sleep paralysis. As I lay there in fear and Excitement of what will happen this time, I look towards my closet in fear because I remembered I did not close it before I had fallen asleep. My eyes practically bulge out of my head as I see a dark figure, hands clenching the closet door, eyes red as blood, and staring right at me with that freakishly large grin of his. I can’t scream, can’t move, can’t do anything but look back at it. It has probably been about ten minutes and me and that thing are practically having a staring contest. I blink once nothing, blink twice, nothing again, and as I blink a third time it moves very slowly climbing up my wall still having its red eyes on me. As it gets closer I try so hard to move that my head starts to hurt and I am practically screaming and running around in my mind, hoping that this ends. When the thing is finally right over me on the ceiling, I get a better view of it it is frail and small, but its head is large along with its eyes and the smell it gives off makes me want to vomit. It drops down closer to me so only its feet are sticking to the ceiling so we are eye to eye. It's just hanging there menacingly staring straight into my eyes it begins to grin then open its mouth so wide like it can eat my entire head in one chomp. It grabs my head with its skinny but strong finger, I feel my body getting its control back. I close my eyes tightly and once opened, it's gone. I look around nothing, all there is, is the sound of the train going by, the feeling of my very cold room that I can see my breath and the clock ticking, it's 3:00 am. As I sit up relieved I notice the tracks that thing left behind on my ceiling and I begin to question was it real? Is it still here?. As any wise person would do I put on my jacket and my shoes and begin to go down the stress to get my keys to leave. I open my bedroom door slowly and it is pitch black, I try to turn on the lights but for some reason they won’t work, I’m sure I paid the electricity bill. That's one more reason to not think and get the hell out of there. I make my way down my hallway which is freakishly long tonight, I see something scurry by the end of the hallway and down the stairs. I freeze. I curse to myself and keep walking feeling like the hallway keeps getting longer and narrower. I begin to run, having the fear of small paces doesn’t help. I run and run and run and all of a sudden for a brief moment I feel like I am running in midair, shocked at it was actually me about to fall down my stairs. I’m rolling and when I finally get to the end, I sit up head pounding and heart racing and I begin to hear voices so many voices and many dark figures flash all over the house one by one just standing there. I try to ignore their calls and make my way to the kitchen to get my keys. The voices get louder, the figures now all there just staring having the aura of the predator waiting to strike and the walls begin to grow flesh as if I was in someone's stomach. That wretched smell comes flooding back to me and those god forsaken hands I feel wrapped around my ankle and that thing begins to drag me. At that moment I see all those “spirits” just standing there begin to run at full speed, almost seeming like they only had control of their lower halves because their arms flailed so crazily that it freaked me out even more. I couldn’t scream so the only sounds were the voices of the “spirits” and my body being banged against the walls and stairs. I ended up back where I started my room, it was as cold as ever, the time still was at 3:00am and I felt myself black out for a second. When my eyes open that thing still has a hold of me and I am hanging from my ceiling and as I look down all of them are there arms trying to grab me and their mouths wide open almost like a shark ready to feed. I look up to look at that thing and it smiles back at me and says, “Is this exciting to you” and let's go, I feel like I am falling in slow motion and once the hands grab me, everything goes dark.

I fling myself out of bed breathing heavy and shaking. It was a dream. 

No Man’s Land--Amy

 My dearest Emily,

Just the other day we were given the order to move forward into No Man’s Land. The mission was dangerous, we all knew that, but who are we to disobey orders. The last thing I wanted was to go, you have to understand that. And the only thing I thought about as we prepared was you. I did not expect to be writing you this letter. In fact, I did not expect to be alive at all by the day’s end. However, I readied myself, said my goodbyes to my fellow soldiers, my friends, my brothers, and then it was time to fight.

Immediately, we were hit with a torrent of bullets and bombs. Men fell all around me, but I just kept running. I had to keep running. I felt the wind of the bullets as they passed my face at hundreds of miles per hour. And yet, I still kept running. I saw men, my men being blown into the air left and right, but I still kept running. In fact, I didn't stop running until I found cover. You could hardly call it cover, but in this barren wasteland it was my best friend. This “friend” was simply a measly piece of rock protruding from the ground. Had I been given the chance I would have tried to find something better, if there happened to be anything at all, but I couldn’t take that chance. It was too risky. So, against my better judgement, I set up my gun and began shooting.

There was so much smoke and debris I could not even see what I was firing at. I was shooting blindly. I may have not hit anything at all, but I knew there were men inside that smoke. Most of them just like me, put out into a war they didn't sign up for. They're all innocent men, some of them barely even men at all, but in this war, they are the enemy, as much as I dislike it. I wasn’t there for more than 10 second before I was blown back, the air knocked out of me, and my cover, gone. For a moment I thought maybe that was the end, I might even say I had accepted my inevitable end, but when my eyes opened and the screams of men replaced the ringing in my ears I knew I had lived. Even with my sputtering breaths, I was able to stand and run. I ran toward the trenches with all the strength in my body, although it ached profusely, but I didn’t stop long enough to be certain those aches weren’t something worse. Men continued to fall all around me, but most followed my lead and began running back. Wounded soldiers called out as I passed, their words incoherent and drowned out by blasts that rocked the earth around me and made my ears ring louder and louder with every passing second. Some of their faces I recognized, but most were covered in blood, burns, or dirt. Maybe they were my friends, but friends don’t last long in places like this.

As the trenches came into view I saw them begin to fill with the remaining men. I got to the ledge of the trench, and much to my horror, I noticed how small the group of men was. There were ten of us, maybe twelve but I couldn’t find the time to count. As I looked out upon the horrifying scene I had just been a part of, all I could see was hundreds of bodies littered amongst the craters and wire. Some may have still been alive, but there was no helping any of them, for that would mean certain death for myself. This may have sounded like a loss to you, but to us and more importantly to the government we were fighting for, we had gained some ground. Even if it was just a few feet, that was a win in our book. I suppose it wasn't a win for all of us, maybe it wasn't even a win at all. But that is just war. And war is never fair.

Sincerely, 

George

Untitled--Devyn

 

The structure looked intriguing. Almost inviting. Perhaps it would hold some exquisite or exotic flowers I’d never seen before. So I flew in. The others had warned me before that places of humans did not like our kind. That they would try to kill us because they didn’t have the capacity to understand what we do.

“Pah!” I had scoffed in their faces. “That can’t be true. ​We ​are the reason their kind isn’t extinct already!”

So I flew in, my mighty wins carrying me on the soft breeze that wafted into the structure through a small opening. My wildest dreams could not have envisioned something so extravagant. It was not like any hive I’d ever seen before. The walls were the color of roses and things that hung on the walls for display. There was a bed with the covers thrown about and a separate room filled with clothes (so many clothes).

I scanned the room. Items of various colors, shapes, and sizes were strewn about the floor haphazardly. Why did the humans need all of these things? How can a group of humans even accumulate that many things in one lifetime? In the far corner sat a large desk and chair. Slumped over in the chair was a girl. Her back shook with each breath she took and a feeble whimper escaped her with each sign. Crying. Isn’t that what they called it? When human’s eyes leak water?

As I studied her, my eyes drifted past her I saw the motherload, flowers. A whole vase was full of more colorful flowers than I’d ever seen before. The others had always warned me never to get too close to humans, so I flew in as quietly as possible, landing on the table before the girl. Whines of pain slipped out of her, though there didn’t seem to be any physical harm done to her as far as I could see.

I flew up to the tall flowers and landed on a bright blue flower. ​Interesting, ​I thought, ​I’ve never seen a blue flower before.​ But the more I examined the petal I was standing on, I noticed stitches in the blue and a plastic middle holding it all together. ​Wait... ​These were fake flowers! I glided to a second flower, this one was a bright pink daisy. Woven petals, plastic center.

Who would do that? Fake flowers are the reason my kind was dying out. Okay, maybe that’s not entirely true but humans are destroying my kind. And plastic flowers?! That was just cruel.

Another sob escaped the girl that startled me so much that when I jumped, I fell off the flower. What was this girl’s problem? Why was she just sitting here? Didn’t she have work to do for her queen? Maybe humans don’t work the same as bees.

What a pathetic existence, just sitting here in a puddle of tears consumed with your problems. H​ umans are always swatting us away, screaming at the sight of us. Do they realize we are the only reason their kind is alive? They kill us for frightening them and say our existence is pointless and insignificant. And yet they mope around all day with their problems and cry constantly. And they call ​us​ insignificant? What a pitiful existence humans have. Not like me. I have a purpose. I have a reason, a job. I was created to supply my hive with pollen. I was created so that our queen would be protected from predators like humans. Bees have a divine purpose in

life. We bring life to humans by foraging for our own food, we protect our royalty, and we have children that repeat. There is no room for tears and whining. There is always a job to be done.

But what are humans good for? They leak water from their eyes, it seems like poor craftsmanship. What are their pathetic feelings for anyway? They could be building or gardening or foraging for food but instead, this girl is sitting here crying. And for what?

Suddenly she jerks her head up in a quick motion, eyes darting all around her room. I froze, hoping she wouldn’t notice. I scold myself for not listening to the others. ​This is how some go out and never come back.​ Her red puffy eyes land on me. The look of hopelessness in her eyes quickly fades to disgust.

“EW!” she shouts, hand flying faster than I had anticipated. I sprang up, flying around her and dodging her blows. “Get away from me!”

One of her swats catches my wings and a start to fall, her other hand catches up and pushes me against the desk. Out of instinct, I bare my stinger.

“Ow!” she howls and immediately releases me. Eyes wide with surprise as she glances down at her hand and sees a tiny stinger embedded in her flesh. I lay on the desk immobile in stinging pain. I should’ve listened to the others. I glance at the girl and noticed that the leaking water stopped. She just stared at the palm of her hand, mesmerized. I began to lose feeling in my body and saw spots form in my vision. It was a foolish way to go, but the human had stopped crying. It seems she too had realized the insignificance of her problems. As he drifted into darkness, he felt content with the effect he’s had in her life.

What does it mean to understand?--Isabel

Do you “understand” people?

Let’s find out.

The Merriam-Webster dictionary tells us that to understand means “to grasp the reasonableness of”. Think about your closest friend or family member for a moment. Now imagine they are simply walking around the grocery store or the mall, and a complete stranger comes up to them and says “I think (insert candidate here) should be president and unless you agree with me your opinion is wrong”. Do you know how they would react? Now you probably said “Of course, they would (for example) walk away from that weird person”. How did you come to that conclusion? How did you “grasp the reasonableness of” this supposed reaction?

If you are anything like the subjects in the study conducted by University of Chicago and Northeastern University in the US and Ben Gurion University in Israel (Livni), you probably put yourself in the shoes of the person you were thinking of. But does that mean you really understand them?

When interviewed by Quartz, psychologist Tal Eyal said that by putting ourselves in the other person’s shoes, we are thinking about what we would do, not what they would do (Livni). In the study, when asked about the other’s preferences, viewpoints, etc., there was absolutely no difference in accuracy from the responding strangers (they met briefly before responding), spouses, or friends. Even though “perspective taking”, as it is called when we put ourselves in their shoes, led to high levels of confidence in their answers, they were all completely inaccurate in their responses.

Our whole lives, we have been told that walking in another person’s shoes is the best way to understand them. But if this isn’t true, how will we ever understand each other?

Perhaps we are not completely at fault for this. Perhaps the very definition of the word “understand” has allowed us to believe this lie. After all, who’s to say how reasonable someone or something is? Isn’t reasonableness subjective to each individual’s unique perspective?

Our understanding of someone/something should not be subject to what we find reasonable or unreasonable. When we choose to “understand” this way, we argue. We fight. We say to each other “No that’s not what that means, you came up with something different than I did so you’re wrong”, because we incorrectly assume that our understanding of something is the same as everyone else’s. This is what leads to division among friends, in households, even across entire countries. We cannot possibly fathom that someone read this same book, this same article, watched this same video, and came up with a completely different opinion than our own.

We need to change the way we understand. If we keep “understanding” based on how reasonable we find something/someone to be, we will find ourselves ignorant of the thoughts of even the closest, most cherished people in our lives.

Indeed the only way to even begin to understand is by talking to one another. Yes, human interaction. Crazy right? But the truth is, our gauge of reasonableness may be drastically different from the random person sitting next to us, or even the people closest to us. When we talk to each other, we are hearing straight from the other person's mouth how they feel about this topic, what their opinion on this subject is, instead of tainting our understanding of them with our own opinions. We can even learn how​ they came to those conclusions, ​why​ they feel this way. It’s the ​how ​and the ​why that enables us to truly understand another person. And to understand them is not to agree with them. It is simply to acknowledge the ​how ​and the ​why​ behind their opinions. When we can say “Oh, now I understand why you think this way” or “It totally makes sense how you came to this conclusion”, we are one step closer to truly understanding each other.

Do you understand?

Works Cited
Livni, Ephrat. "There's Only One Way to Truly Understand Another Person's Mind."

Quartz.​ ​Quartz,​ qz.com/1319441/theres-only-one-way-to-truly-understand-another-persons-mind/ . Accessed 20 Nov. 2020.

"Understand." ​Merriam-Webster Dictionary​, www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/understand. Accessed 20 Nov. 2020.

The definition of body positivity--Abbie

 

As google describes it, the definition of body positivity is “​Body positivity is a social movement initially created to empower and shed light on plus size women and men.” That can be the general idea, but my personal definition is more than just that. My definition consists of 2 essential topics that proves that the definition of body positivity is just that. The definition can be determined from personal experience and growth and confidence . The definition of body positivity can be determined by not a bunch of people, but from yourself.

Body positivity is from personal experience and growth. This topic is essential to determine what the meaning is, since the definition is more than just a few sentences on google. Growth with one’s body can help that person figure out their relationship with themselves, and how they treat themselves as well. Your body is the gateway to showing how you feel, your confidence, and yourself -assurance. According to Psychology today,“B​ody positivity means accepting the body you have as well as the changes in shape, size, and ability it may undergo due to nature, age, or your own personal choices throughout your lifetime. It's the understanding that your worth and what's going on with you physically”. Said Malorie Dunn, founder of a body positive fashion line (SmartGlamour). The whole theme of this message is that body positivity meaning should not be only determined by someone else's relationship with their body or experience, but your experience alone. How you felt with yourself and your weight, what made you grow to realize that you do not have to look just like a Victoria Secret model to feel beautiful. Body positivity should not only apply to the plus size audience. Body shaming and hating can also come to slim and skinny people as well. Whatever your current size is, the meaning is up to your personal growth.

Confidence is another topic that can help define the meaning of body positivity. The meaning of confidence can be overlooked as well, or overanalyzed. Generally, it means ​a feeling of self-assurance arising from one's appreciation of one's own abilities or qualities. As told by Google. Yet, confidence and body positivity must go hand in hand, to fully understand the meaning. According to Cliona Bryne, “​Body confidence is about an individual's acceptance of themselves whereas body positivity is about acceptance of marginalised bodies in society.”. Although some might think that confidence is way different than body positivity, my definition is that body confidence and body positivity is the same. Body positivity means that you also do not need society to tell you that you are accepted or beautiful to them. One needs to figure that out for themselves with how one treats their body and themselves. You need more than just society to feel positive about yourself and your body.

In conclusion, my definition of body positivity is that one must go through personal experiences with their body and have a relationship with their body, to grow their self-worth and to be happy with their body even when going through hardships and obstacles with it. Confidence is the prime factor to body positivity, because confidence in their bodies show they do not need the corrupt society to accept them for who they are, but they accept themselves for who they are and what they represent. They’re positive in how they look and would never wish to trade bodies with another because they feel inferior. You can never feel inferior without your consent and your consent only. If someone comes to the point that they see their body as positive than as negative, they have achieved the true meaning of body positivity.

Sources:

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/the-truth-about-exercise-addiction/201608/what-does -body-positivity-actually-mean
https://clionabyrne.com/body-positivity-vs-body-confidence/

October Writers 2020!!!!!!!

  WE ALL HAVE THE STORY TO TELL

HAPPY FALL!!!!!!

 For the month of October we have 13 original pieces that are featured for the month.  Keep on reading for your assignment.

You are to read ALL 8 submissions.  Once you have done that, choose 3 of which you would like to leave comments and feedback on the piece and for the writer.  When leaving comments be mindful of your CONTENT and TONE.  This blog is a safe space for ALL writers in our class.  Be kind, courteous, helpful and encouraging.  Give reason(s) and explanation as to WHY you have chosen to leave feedback.  Why is this a favorite piece?  What did you find intriguing? Suspenseful?  Silly?  Horrifying?  You get the picture.  Do not merely comment that you like the piece.  Explain WHY.

If you are a writer for the month, you DO NOT have to leave comments and feedback on the pieces, only if you wish to do so.

This assignment--the comments and feedback--is due Monday, November 16 by 11:59PM.  Leave your comments here and NOT ON CANVAS.

How to leave comments:

1. Write you comment in the text box provided at the bottom of the submission.  

2. SIGN YOUR NAME

3. Make sure you are logged in with your GAFE account (school account).

4.  If you are not using your GAFE account,  it is IMPERATIVE you sign your name after EACH comment. Choose ANONYMOUS and sign your name.

5. DO NOT LEAVE COMMENTS USING YOUR PHONE.  THEY WILL NOT GO THROUGH.

We have a lot of Flash Fiction and Personal Narratives this month.

November Writers--get ready!  Your deadline is November 13.

I will see you in class!!!

Feed your soul,

Mrs. Solano

Birdie--Tatianna

I pulled into the parking lot. The tall, sleek building towered over me. I’ve seen it many times before, but I couldn’t help but marvel at the sight of it.

“It’s state-of-the-art stuff,” my wife had said when she first brought me here. “The inside looks like it came straight out of a sci-fi film.”

I grabbed my wife’s spare keycard and left the car.

My wife and her team worked on things that people like me could only dream of. Sometimes she’d tell me a bit about their projects.

"Our client wants us to create robots," she said a few weeks ago. “Robots?” I said.
“Yep.”
“What for?”

“We...actually don’t know. All we know is that the client had hired someone else to make the robots, but they weren’t satisfied with the product so they hired us to redesign them. The robots themselves are more like toys, but the AI they have is incredibly advanced. It’s...strange, but we’re getting paid a lot, so.”

“Huh,” I said, and never thought about it again.
Until now.
The front lobby was in disarray. All the chairs were flipped over, and papers

littered the front desk. “Hello?” I called.

Nobody answered.

A chill crept up my spine. The reason why I came here was to check on my wife. She hadn’t responded to any of my calls. What happened here?

I pushed back my thoughts and pushed forward. I knew my way around the lab. I’m sure the rest of the building is fine...

It wasn’t.

Every room I went to looked like it got caught in a hurricane. All the computers laid broken on their desks. Papers were torn to shreds or burnt. Chairs

laid broken on the floor. The broken remains of half-finished robots covered the tables. Did someone rob the place?

I stepped in something. I looked down.
Blood.
The blood made a trail that led out of the room.
Why is there blood?
I followed the blood out of the room and down the hallway. The blood led to

a scientist lying on the floor. A giant metallic rod pierced the back of his head.
I almost puked. There was another body at the end of the hallway as well. What in God’s name happened here?
I ventured further into the lab, discovering more unspeakable horrors. I

reached the point where I couldn't take it anymore. I have to turn back. Something moved.

I turned around. The door behind me was ajar. Did the sound come from there? I felt my pockets for my phone but felt nothing. I searched the ground but to no avail. "Great," I mumbled. "The one time I needed to use the emergency service, I leave my phone in the car."

I looked back at the door. A sane person would run away and call the police, but something compelled me to move toward the door and open it.

Like all the other rooms, the entire place was in disarray with broken furniture and dead bodies. On the left wall were giant glass cabinets. Each one contained half-finished toy robots.

All except one.

One of the cabinet doors laid shattered on the ground. The cabinet itself was empty. I stepped over the glass and looked around. A large pile of papers laid on one of the desks. I grabbed the topmost paper and read the title.

“Experiment #29: Birdie.” Below the title was a picture of a stuffed tabby cat plush with a red bandana and big black eyes.

I continued to read. Birdie was one of the robots that the client commissioned to fix. The robot worked fine, but its AI was broken. The plush has reportedly ran off many times and has accidentally harmed personnel.

"Harmed personnel?" I whispered. How does a faulty robot accidentally harm someone?

The sound of running footsteps echoed from outside. I quickly crawled under the nearest desk. A sharp, high pitched scream sounded, and then cut off.

Ice crept up my spine. I inched out from the desk and stood up. A body laid in front of the door I came through. A blade pierced her neck, and blood pooled beneath the wound.

I forced myself to swallow. This is b​ ad​, r​ eally bad​. I need to leave this place immediately.

A figure leaped onto the body's back. Dark red blood stained its striped orange fur. A bright red bandana hung around its neck. Its large, dark eyes scanned the room.

It saw me.

"Birdie," I whispered. The thing jumped onto a nearby desk. It titled its head at me. I pressed myself against the wall, and something poked my back. I glanced behind. A light switch.

I looked back at Birdie. It narrowed its eyes and stepped forward.

I shut off the lights and ran. I didn't dare look back. I turned a corner and saw a green exit sign at the end of the hallway. I sprinted toward the door, pushed it open, and closed it as silently as I could. I leaned against the door and listened.

Nothing.
I took a shaky breath and stood up. “Oh my God,” I panted. “This is real.”
I need to get out of here. The only way out now is through the stairs.
I started going down the stairs but I tripped on my foot. I tumbled down, my

head hitting the rails. My vision blurred. A sharp pain shot through my left wrist.

I landed on my side. My head ached, and my body felt numb. The pain shot through my wrist again, jolting me upright. Lights danced around me. I rubbed my head with my left hand, and the pain spiked again.

I shook my head, and my vision cleared. I looked at my left wrist. I bit my lip from the pain. Great, I sprained it. Grunting, I pulled myself up and continued going down the stairs.

I arrived at the ground level. The exit door greeted me at the end. I sighed in relief.

The door behind me swung open. Birdie leaped from the bar handle, holding a metal rod in its mouth. I ran for the exit door, but the plush jumped in front of me, slowly forcing me back through the other door and into the lab.

I tried to run but tripped.

The plush narrowed its large, dark eyes and lunged at me. I knocked it down just in time. I clenched my teeth and looked around for anything that I could use as a weapon.

A broken glass vase laid a few feet away from me. I grabbed the largest piece and turned around.

Pain shot through my right knee. I yelped and fell to the floor. Birdie climbed up my body and wacked me on the side of my head. My eyes watered, and my ear began to ring. Birdie jumped off me and discarded the metal rod for a shard of glass.

Glass.
It looked at me and angled the shard toward me.
It inched closer. I wiped the tears from my eyes and gripped my own glass

shard. The cold tip of the plush’s glass touched my face.
I jabbed my glass piece into Birdie’s head with all the force my injured body

could muster. The plush fell to the ground.
I ran back into the emergency exit and left the building.

The door led me to the back parking lot. There was a gate to the left of me. I hobbled over to it, and it opened. I made my way to my car and sat in the seat.

Everything hurt. My wrist, my hand, my knee, my head...

I leaned against the car seat and allowed myself to think. All those brilliant minds are now dead. And my wife? Is she...

I shook my head, making my headache worse. No, no, I can't think of that now. I need help, professional help. This accident needs to be reported. I grabbed my phone from the cupholder and dialed 9-1-1. 

My Ates: (ah-teh) Not (ate)--Chloe

I was called out of my bedroom by my 25-year-old sister after a night’s homework session accompanied by lo-fi beats playing in the background. Her and her boyfriend had just come home from a day at Disneyland: one of my family’s most favorite places to visit, and the place where my sister and her boyfriend first met. In the hallway outside my bedroom door, they told me to simply look around to see if anything abnormal is around. For some odd reason, the first thing I thought of was a bug. Out of natural instinct plus my high fear of bugs, I started to frantically look around the walls and ceiling, causing them to laugh at me. I on the other hand felt so confused, but that was until my sister showed me her hand, leading to a jaw dropping moment in my life. There I saw a sparkly, gorgeous, white diamond on her finger. “Are you for REAL?” That was all I could say in awe. The newly engaged couple went ahead telling me about how it happened. I figured they told my mom the news before me because she came out of her bedroom next to mine beginning to laugh at my face too. We all had a long day that day, so we kept the conversation brief and called it a night.

Later in my bed, my thoughts commenced, reeling in a numerous amount of ideas. My sister who I grew up with all my life is getting married. Here comes the British man who lives in Scotland here to marry my sister and take her away (the two have a long distance relationship). Is this the end of childhood? This was only last year, and I am technically a teenager now, but despite my age, the engagement news really gave a shock at the thought of a whole new page turn in the book of life. Regardless of her daily, childish, annoying acts upon me in addition to our similar odd mindsets, unlike me, my sister is an “adult”. All my sisters stand in the age of adulthood actually. All three of them are currently in their 20s, two of them are already moved out due to college plus almost graduating, and this one is moving on with another person! Last I remember we all were jamming to Jonas Brothers and Demi Lovato albums or spent the day playing Sims on the Playstation together. It was always us four. Always has been, and now it will not in the very near future. It was then I realized, I have reached the dark filtered, melancholy adulthood scenes of the 2019 movie adaptation of the novel, ​Little Women ​by Louisa May Alcot, and I am Beth, the sister stuck at home. Childhood really is over.

Sure, my sisters can be at times not the most wonderful people who just love to ruin my life: they eat my food after I deliberately announce that I am saving it for myself, they steal my clothes that I have been looking for all over for ages,... the list can go on and on about the tiny grudges I hold against those three monkeys. But anyways, back to the point I am trying to make, although the three can be monsters, my life would not be the same without them. My sisters titled me as the “cool one” out of all of us, which I myself fail to see, but that is probably because I think I would not be who I am without them. I view my persona as a whole picture and they are the puzzle pieces because I have something of each of their personalities inside of me. My music taste is basically all of their music, my hobbies like singing and drawing were introduced by them, my love for Disney and Audrey Hepburn movies began, and I also would not know as many good boba and Asian food places as well. Even my first word was “ate,” (ah-teh) which in the Filipino culture means “older sister.” I would not say this to their faces seeing as, if i did, they would start to incessantly asking me for a lot of trivial, silly things, but I do believe I owe so much to all of them.

At the time when my sister’s boyfriend, well I guess, now fiance, had just proposed, I was and am happy for her. My sister deserves this happiness, I get along with her fiance even if he does love to annoy me like an actual brother, and I trust that she is in good hands, but I abruptly launched into a feeling of a type of loneliness. Not the “romantic” type of lonely that pops into most heads when first hearing the word, but instead loneliness due to the thought of all of us moving on with our own lives. I started thinking about my parents and their siblings. They are all separated now living in different countries or states, and it saddened me, putting myself in their shoes, how my parents, uncles, and aunts do not see each other as often no more. I thought more though throughout the days and managed to come up with an epiphany. I have been acting as if once my sisters are gone, that is it. I am alone. I do not have them anymore. However, this is not the case. Just like my parents always call or text their siblings, my sisters will still be there even if we are apart. Just because there will be one day where we will go all our separate ways and I will be alone without them, that does not mean I have to be lonely. Alone does not mean lonely. Those are two different words with two different definitions. I will not just be a sitting duck, and I will also be preoccupied with making my own means of life. I should have known even in the beginning when I first thought all these types of wonders of loneliness, because the first thing I thought of was ​Little Women,​ and despite all their life changes and growing, the sisters in that storyline still had each other, just as I will too.