Journal #5

Journal #5 from the perspective of Dill

I never knew my father. The one who made that is. My mom find me lots of new daddies all the time but they never stay for a very long time. The one she has for me right now is the worst. He doesn't like me at all. He likes me so little that he sent me to my room. All I wanted to do was play some but he wouldn't have it. He said I was ANTAGONIZING and that I should be punished for it. I don't know what ANTAGONIZING even is. So I just sat there in my room tryin' to figure out what it meant. This is when I had a brilliant thought. I would run away. But to where? I know Scout and Jems house, they would understand. They would understand better than any of my relatives. However I needed to think about how I was going to get to Maycomb. I know I would EXTRACT money from my mother's purse. She was the one who didn't try to stop my new father from putting me in my room. I waited for them to go to sleep then I put my plan into action. I walked to the train station with my stolen tender in hand and walked to the train station. This was a familiar trip I haven't been to Maycomb in a while but, I knew that the train station was down the street from the house and I knew how to get to the street my fiancé lives on. I bought my ticket and boarded the train without the slightest resistance. However, when I saw the engineer for the train, with whom I was well acquainted, I was at first exited then, worried because he might be in on the search for me. I did my best to act casual, and hide the fact that I had forgotten my shoes. After a well mannered conversation I felt pretty sly with all of my evasions. This is when I realized if I were to impress my friends I would need a better story than I hoped the train and then walked here. I sat with the deepest look of PENSIVE thinking on my face and wove my tail. As we arrived in the station, I felt pretty good about the story. When I got off the train I realized I had to walk a good 20 miles to get to the finch home. Thankfully after not to long a grain cart came along. I hid on the back until we got close. I was in luck, the back door was unlocked, I hid in scouts room and when I heard them coming I hid under the bed. Of course I had to EMERGE, and then I had to talk with Atticus. I had ACQUIRED the idea that he would have me sent home immediately, but much to my enjoyment I would get one more summer with my love, Jean Louise.

journal #4

Example: Journal #1- Chapters 10-12 from the perspective of Jem

Sometimes I wish that Atticus was like the other fathers. All of Scout's and my CONTEMPORARIES all had fathers who did interesting things or had fascinating jobs. All Atticus could do was be a lawyer. He likes to play keep-away with me, but when I want to practice tackling he is always to tired or he tells me he's to old. for that stuff. As you can imagine it is very disheartening for a boy my age to have a largely sedentary and useless father.
One day as I was walking with Scout, air rifles in hand, and looking for birds to shoot, we saw a dog way off in the distance. "What you reckon that is out yonder?", Scout said pointing at the figure. "I don't know." I said scratching my head. Then as we looked at it I had the strangest feeling that we should go. Scout beat me to it and we marched off. When we got home Cal's reaction to our story practically made me jump out of my skin. I had learned about mad dogs in school. That probably gave me my sense of PERIL when we first spotted it. Scout usually loves to CONTRADICT Cal but she said no words and if she did it was INAUDIBLE. I was confused when the sheriff and Atticus showed up. I understood that he may want to help us but then when he just stood there. Then when the sheriff Heck Tate tried to hand Atticus the rifle I had thought that he had gone mad to. After Atticus took the rifle I was even more surprised. I thought that he would try to be all INCONSPICUOUS and sneak up on the dog. Then as I watch in dumbstruck awe, he takes of his glasses and lets them fall to the ground. He raises the rifle and hits the dog dead center. That dog was so far away I could hardly see him and atticus just hit him like he was nothing. I was so thrilled that he could do this. I would be able to brag for years before this got old. Then I realized, if he hadn't told us about this amazing talent by now, he must not want us to know. I then thought it best that we not brag. Even though I would have to face scouts CANTANKEROUS objections.

Journal #3

Journal #3 from the perspective of Miss Maudie.

It was a quite enough evening, cold, bone chillingly cold. The whole night I was fearful for my flowers well being. However, I was able to finally get to sleep after lighting a fire in the kitchen for my potted plants. I slept without interruption until I was awoken by a bright flickering light coming in my door. I immediately disregarded it as just the kitchen fire, but then I realized that I can't see the kitchen from my bed room. With the fanatical quickness of a woman who cares more for her flowers than her own life, I lept from my bed, threw on my robe and was out side of my house faster than you can say "Help my house is on fire!", and that is exactly what i said as I ran outside. when I was on the other side of the street, I was only to house. It seemed that either my cries or the fire had already awoken many other people on the street. Before long Atticus Finch and his two children emerged from their house and because I did not want to isolate myself I went to his side. As I watched my house burn, I debated with myself how I should go about finding a place to stay for the time being. I was fairly well acquainted with Miss Stephanie and i know she wants my Lane Cake recipe but I would never give it to her. I was entrusted with it by my grand mother and I would never give it up. After I thought of that All I could think of was what my flowers would do. Will they be OK? This thought consumed me so much I don't remember anything else till morning when I asked Miss Stephanie and she agreed to let me stay, and I thought that she may be worthy to know my recipe, if she can make any sense of it.

Journal #2

Journal #2 from the perspective of dill.I was so sad to leave my friends in Maycomb, but school
was starting and I had no choice but to leave and go home to my mother. I endured the school year being ridiculed by the other students for my size and mistaken for a kindergarten. The Tyranny of the bullies at my school never ceased. All I heard in class was "Shorty!", and "Pip-Squeak". I was infinitely relieved to finally be back in Maycomb. I was even happier when Jem proposed that we play a new game,"Lets play Boo Radley" he said, and so we did. Of course the aim of all of this was to draw Boo Radley out from hiding. This was our one goal while we re-enacted all of Boo's lore and legends. We thought that Boo would see this and decide to come out and play. Secretly, I was terrified of Boo Radley coming out side because I thought he might be mad for disturbing us and then he would eat us. However I must stay resolute to impress my love, Scout. I wasn't to keen, however, on stopping when anyone walked by, but it made me feel sorta like a villain from one of our other stories. All powerful, devious and mysterious. I wasn't ashamed with our game but I understood that if anyone got wise to us we would have to stop and we would never come out and then I don't know how I would win over Scout's true love or Jem's respect. I was sad when scout nagged Jem into stopping the game but I don't think that I could out nag Scout, after all we were supposed to be married and I have noticed that all of the husbands on my street at home don't win any arguments with their wives so I didn't want to upset the status quo. So I just went with it, like I go with the insults I get at school.

Journal #1- Chapters 1-3 from the perspective of Walter Cuningham 

I hate the first day of school. I have always felt that it was a colossal waste of time. I have been held back more times than I can count, which is not very high since I haven't finished the first grade.  Every year I am irked by my father that I need to go to school. I have never had a reason to distrust my father so I concede. I'm sure that I would like it more if I could actually finish the year. Just once I would like to compromise  with my father. I would get to finish the first grade but then I would work twice as hard the next year.  However, every year I put on my clean shirt, and overalls and walk barefoot to school. I had heard that there is a new teacher there, but it never occurred to me that she was not from Macomb. When I sat down, in the same room, same desk even, I began to feel indigenous to this place.

I never have valued myself as smart. I am in the first grade and I am almost as old as some of the fifth graders.  I have on the other hand always admired that that Scout girl. She was the smartest person I had ever met. When the new teacher Miss Caroline walked into the class room and introduced herself I realized instantly even before she said were she was from, that she was not from these parts.  I had known for a long time now that Scout could read and write. I would have thought that Miss Caroline would have praised her for it, but instead she scolded Scout with pronouncements of how here father was teaching her incorrectly.    

I was astounded at the way they were able to argue for so long, but when they finished, I was able to simply endure the day. Until dinner came along. This was my least favorite time of day. I knew that because Miss Caroline was new she wouldn't know about me. 

"Now class if you have your food with you please put it on your desk.", all I could do was sit there like a nimrod.  "You there did you forget your lunch?", "Yess'um" I lied. When Miss Caroline pulled out a quarter and tried to hand it to me, I was so full of shame I almost started to cry. This shame consumed me so much, I was all but unable to hear the ensuing conversation between Miss Caroline and Scout. All I remember is looking up and seeing Scout getting hit on the hand with a ruler and being sent to the corner. After we were dismissed, Scout jumped on me and started rubbing my nose in the dirt. I couldn't fight back, because boys can't hit girls, so I would just have to persevere. 

I could not have been more thankful when Jem came along, and saved me from his evil sister. When he invited me over I, at first wanted to say no but then decided that it couldn't hurt. While at the Finch home I got to have the most delicious dinner I had had in a long time. However Scout ruined it when she made fun of me for putting syrup all over my food. The food lifted my sprits and I was chipper as could be on my way back to school though. 

Miss Caroline's reaction to the cootie in one of the Ewell boy's hair was entertaining but not really anything special. At least nothing I haven't seen before.   

"What is the What" book review

Lincoln Dutcher

What is the What

What is the What is a non-fiction novel about the life of a Sudanese boy who's name is Achak. The book starts with Achak in his apartment in Atlanta. he hears a knock at the door so he answers it. He sees before him a big burly african woman. She asks is she can use his telephone. He obliges. She burst in and locks herself in the bed room. she is followed into the door by a large man in a powder blue shirt.

This is just the beginning of one of the hardest nights in Achak's life. these people go on to beat and rob him. Now this book would be pretty dull if it was just him talking in real time about how he was robbed. He says that he is a Sudanese refugee, he says so early in the book. Therefore by hearing this you have questions like "How did he get here?", "What was the trip like?" Thankfully for the reader this is explained. the story is told through his eyes. The entire plot takes place over he course of a few days starting when he was robbed and ending a few days later.

Achak's past is told through a series of vivid flash backs. One of his first flash baks is of his perfect day. However that quickly devolves into how his entire village was annihilated by the Sudan government. it vividly describes every gory detail. After this attack he was forced to travel hundreds of miles with hundreds of other "lost boys" as they came to be known. Most of his flash backs are extremely depressing. However, these flash backs are more accurate than the sugar coated versions that people usually hear

The writing style for What is the What is all first person. The characters in he book are all very realistic, and relatable. One character named Deng, in all of his organization and leadership ability, reminds me of my father. Achak's best friend, William K., reminds me of my best friend in the way that we are practically inseparable. This book also gives the reader a valuable insight into the human psychology. This story is 100% true. There are many accounts of lost boys Losing their minds. One boy actually curled up in a hole and died. simply out of his own accord. 

In summary, I think that this book is incredibly depressing. Comparable to The Grapes of Wrath . If you are able to endure the everlasting sadness in this book you will notice that through out all of these horrible events, Achak remained resolute. I thought that the ending was very satisfying. A very poetic way to wrap up and encapsulate everything that transpired in the book 

 

Immigration Reflection

Immigration Project Reflection

LC Books

My experience with was very good. I really enjoyed my book. I think this was because it starts in the middle of something and then goes back to explain how everything happened. I like books like that. they hold my attention better than other books that start at the beginning and end at the end. That is what common sense tells you to do, but sometimes going against the grain would give you a better story.

I learned that my perception of immigrants having a better life within months was totally wrong. I hadn't given much thought to how much the immigrants would be affected. they are in a foreign country, they don't speak English, and they need a job. To get a job they need an education. they probably couldn't get an education in there native county, or they wouldn't have come here. so now they have to catch up on school, hold down a job usually more than two. Thats even if they get in. getting here is hard to. you have to get a visa or become a citizen. then you have to find a way to get her. That is expensive. The hardships for an immigrant never really end.

Everyone will want to change something if they don't like it. I liked the LC book project. I had a good book and I was able to keep up with it and I had fun. I can't think of anything that I would want to change. the blog post were a really good idea, and I enjoyed not having to do anything for it in class. That took a lot of pressure off of me. I think that that is what made it so I was able to do the work.

I enjoyed the blogging. It was a more fun alternative to sitting and talking about something that is kind of boring. Also people would not say what they really think because they felt insecure. With the blog people can just sit in their room at their desk and let it all out. Sitting with your computer and your favorite tunes, is a much more relaxing place than in the Main Commons where its cold and exposed.

I didn't have any problems with the blogging. I did in seventh grade, but that was just because I didn't know what, or how to use blogs. They were also just starting out so they weren't perfect.

Everyone sees a different kind of blue. The color that I see is totally different than the color you see. The exact same goes for books. I may read a novel and think it has a happy ending. Where as you will read the book and think that its sad. I found, However that almost all of my group members interpreted the book in a similar way. The interpretations of the intentions of different characters differed, but we all agreed on the core concept of the book. We all felt very sorry for Achak, and thought that he should have a better life. Our opinions would be different when it came to moral questions. I wrote in one of my blog posts that I thought that just because you have been the victim of a horrendous occurrence. Kevin Dervishi Completely disagrees with that. He believes that being a victim earns you the right to have what you want

Art and Literature

I always have trouble explaining my art. I just let ideas come to me. It is sort of like catching a butterfly. You don't really remember the chase, all that really stands out in your mind is when you caught the butterfly, or in this case the idea. My first idea was to have a sad picture because the book is very sad. I decided that the best way to have a sad picture is to show that a lot of people died, because thats what I find the most sad. I tried to just have tomb stones going off to the distance. This was a bad idea because there wasn't enough to look at. then I tried having tombstones for only the main characters that died, with gold in the distance to symbolize the opportunities that await him. This wasn't good enough to so I finally settled on having Achak looking down from the moon to earth.

I think that the connection is very apparent. I showed it to a person who had never read the book ,and, while they didn't interpret it exactly as I had planned, but close enough. I am sure that even someone who doesn't do much interpreting of art will understand this art piece.

When I was done with the painting I was very proud of it.. the colors turned out perfectly the coats were nice and even. The best part was that the emotion that I was trying convey was there. that was a problem that I was having with my art.

I think that a little more time to work, maybe a day. Also some better paintbrushes. all I had access to was a lot of crusty paintbrushes that scraped up more paint than they put down. There weren't enough good small brushes. I had to use a paper clip to write some things.

I preferred it to writing about it. The art let me convey more emotion than with a two page essay about why I liked the book. I like to talk about things but writing takes longer and the ideas get backed up. When I paint the ideas slow down and I can get them all out.

Interview Process with Participant & Gift

I was one of the people who was privileged enough to get to go to the IRC. Were other people had to do three interviews, we only had to do two. Both of these were in person. We had to ask more questions than the other people, but it was nice to get to know the immigrants we were interviewing in person, rather than over the phone. I had been scared that because these people were from so far away that I would have nothing in common with them. After interviewing them, I noticed that we are very much alike. We like to go to the beach, we like TV, and we like living in America. Of course there are many more things that make us similar but I wont go into that. I was surprised at how easy it was to relate with these people. Because it was so easy to relate, it was easy to write questions.

Out of the interviewing process, I learned how hard it was for people to get here. When my immigrant came over from Cambodia, she and her sister could only bring however much that they could fit in an old TV box.

I loved being able to have someone to talk to, who had gone though the immigration process. You can only learn so much from the History Alive books. Talking to someone who had been through it conveyed so much more emotion and specifics.

I made my immigrant a CD with lots of American songs on it. This is what she specifically asked for when we gave her her options. She wanted a CD because she is trying to learn English better. Something that you don't always think about when thinking of immigration, is how they are going to learn another language. We learned English our whole lives. Now they have to learn English as fast as possible. English is one of the hardest languages in the world to learn. We have so many little rules and exceptions to those rules that if you can learn those that is a miracle in and of itself.