I love soccer, camping, road trips along the California coast, traveling, learning from othere cultures first hand and applying that knowledge to my everyday life, hanging out with friends, bonfires at the beach, music, art, reading, adventures(kayaks in big bear), walks along the beach, shopping, movies, crime shows, designing clothes, baking, and falling asleep on the sand.
Throughout my life I have been blessed to have my home filled with different kinds of warm love. Instead of the smells of mom’s baking wafting through the house or the voice of my dad ringing through the halls as he came home from work, my house was filled with music and the passion it inspires. Whether it was Jeff Buckley, Elliot Smith, or even the voice of my dad, guitar in hand, warming the house and the hearts within it, there was always music to be heard, lyrics to be understood, and beliefs to be appreciated.
My dad has taught me about the deeper meaning of music to musicians and people, as well as how to recognize the value of each and every word that escapes their throat, listen to every note played, and experience the song itself. Every album is a storybook meant to be listened to all the way through, every song just another chapter in the novel. As a musician my dad creates works of art, songs that describe his childhood, his feelings toward life, and his beliefs. Every word he writes, every piece of musical notation he creates, and every song he records expresses himself in a pure and unique way that sustains who he his. He’s an entertainer, a philosopher, and a teacher, all through the music he creates.
While I may not posses the same musical creativity my father does, he’s taught me to appreciate it on a different scale. Through his teachings music has become a sort of panacea for me. It’s my therapy, my entertainment, my laughter, my expression, my teacher, and an overall crux in my life. I can take my appreciation for music and understanding of it and apply it to different aspects of my life, using the principles I take from it and using them as my own commandments. Of all the things I have learned from my appreciation for music, the most important is understanding and respect. I may not like all types of music, I can at least appreciate the creator of the piece for the feelings behind it and respect the work and effort that went into its creation. This is an idea I feel I can be applied to many different things in life.
When I traveled to Bali, instead of being judgmental of the people’s beliefs and treating them as erroneous and tenebrous, I was open-minded and appreciative of what they had to teach me. Because of this I was able to absorb their beliefs and culture like a sponge and use what I had learned to make myself a more cultured person who’s able to take the teachings of the people around me and apply it to my daily life. Music was my original mentor, and because of what it taught me the world and people within it have all become teachers and philosophers that I can continuously learn from.
Project Description: During this project we read the book My Ishmael by Daniel Quinn. After reading it and having many discussions about the meaning and message of the parables Ishmael tells Julie we were given a sheet of REM's or Reading Enjoyment Maximizers. You could do many different things such as turn the book into a screen play for a movie, create a soundtrack for it, make a painting about a concept in the book, etc. It was truly up to you to choose something to create. I chose to make a zine based on the concept of Takers and Leavers.
Process:
Before creating the rough draft of my zine I had to think of a concept for it. I chose to do a Taker vs. Leaver comparison using the contrast between Dystopian and Utopian society in nature. I also made it so that as you were looking at the pictures and reading the lines in the zine you would have to flip it to see the Leaver lifestyle the right way. Every page in the Leaver section was the exact opposite of the taker section, just as a Dystopian society (Takers) is the exact opposite of a Utopian society (Leavers). I then created a rough draft that had written what I wanted on each page on it. After creating the rough draft I made my final draft.
Reflection:
In this project I learned a lot about our culture and why we are the way we are. Because of reading My Ishmael I feel like my eyes have opened up to the world a bit more. It's almost as if there was this invisible wall blocking my view of the way the world really should be and reading this book helped me to break it down. I have this whole new perspective of our culture and life itself that I believe has really changed my opinions on society for the better. It's almost as if my whole life I somewhat had an idea of what people like Daniel Quinn and Jared Diamond, author of The Worst Mistake in the Human Race, already knew but I couldn't quite grasp the concept. My Ishmael gave me the tools I needed to get it within my reach.
In the creation of my piece I had some trouble getting the sketches exactly right. After hours of working on them I finally got the shading and lines the way I intended them to be.
If I could do this project over again I would have liked to have done the challenge assignment, reading Ishmael by Daniel Quinn, before or after reading My Ishmael instead of reading them at the same time. Because they are both so similar it was very hard for me to distinguish between the two on the final and while writing papers about them.
Creating my zine really got my creative juices flowing and inspired me a bit more in the artistic department. I hope to be able to use this next year in projects.
Project Description: During this project we broke away from the transactive writing we had been doing and learned about how to write a personal essay based on a belief we have based on the essays that are submitted to NPR's This I Believe program. I chose to write about the power of music. After we finished the essays, 400-500 words, we displayed them with a profile picture of us in a beautiful frame for everyone to see.
Process: Writing a good personal essay required us to do many drafts. I personally had five different drafts of my essay before I got my final one. After we finnished writing the essays we took profile shots of our face, cut them out, traced them onto a piece of colored paper, and cut the nice color pieces out. We then took the frames we had bought for the project and used them to creatively display both our profiles' and essays for our school exhibition.
Reflection: During the project I learned a lot about myself. In order to be able to write the essay I really had to think about what I believe in. This was somewhat hard for me becuase I believe in a lot of things and I had a hard time choosing something to write about. Becuase my dad is a musician music has always been a big part of my life. I have learned many things from my love for music, so I figured that my belief in the power of it would be something interesting and unique to write about. While I had my belief ready to go, when I started writting I realized that because I have been doing transactive writing so much this semester my personal writing techniques were lacking. It took my until the fourth draft to be able to fully get back into the swing of things but once I had I was able to produce a piece of writting that I am extremely proud of. If I could do this project over again I wouldn't have done anything differently. I am extremely proud of my piece and overall display of it with my profile shot. I am completely in love with my work and wouldn't change it for the world. Now that I have practiced transactive and personal essays I feel that I am more prepared for 10th grade when I will most likely have to write in both styles. I better understand the difference between the two and feel comfortable writing in both.
A neighbor brought me here when I first moved to the hills (golden hills)
Do you garden at home?
I live right down the street so I just come here
What would be your advice to give to others?
If you like gardening and don't have space this is a great way to do it.
What struck you about the location you visited? Was it what you expected, or very different?
The Community Garden I visited was very different than I expected. I expected something small in the middle of an urban area because Golden Hills is very urbanized. Instead what I found was a small hidden garden next to Golden Hills park. It was very cute, secluded and calming. I would love to come back and start my own little garden there if not at home.
Which items were cheaper than you expected? Which were more expensive?
NA
Do you think you will start going to a farmers market more often? Or using a community garden? Or supporting a CSA?
I would love to become apart of this community garden, not only for sustainable reasons but because of the energy it contained. It seems like a good place to get away and zen out as you garden or even just write next to the flower beds. The soil also seems to be very hearty there and would produce great herbs and such to cook with.
How do these locations fit into our essential questions of “Why Don’t People Live More Sustainably?” and “How Can I Convince them to do So?”
I think people often associate the terms sustainable living with difficult, but in all honesty it's so easy to live a more conscious lifestyle through places like Community Gardens, C.S.A.'s and Farmer's Markets. In my case, there are multiple opportunities within a mile radius of my house to live a more sustainable life style, and after looking up the locations closest to people in my group I found that I was not the only one this applied to. If people just took a few minutes to find a garden, market, or C.S.A. close to them we could all start living a more sustainable lifestyle.
"The schools are there, Julie, to regulate the flow of young competitors into the job market."
-My Ishmael by Daniel Quinn
(Page 60)
When Ishmael said this I was particularly peeved. It makes me so angry as I was reading these chapters because what he was saying, while it seems to be true, completely eradicates the purpose of education in my mind. To me education is the further discovery of information but I feel like his saying this means that it's not. And while his opinion isn't necessarily right, I feel like it is. Our civilization really did make education more about giving us something to do than learning. Instead of filling our heads with things that we actually are genuinely interested in, they fill our heads with useless facts. I mean, why would I ever need to know the exact date the Dutch bombed Bali? I didn't until our government created a test where I may need to in order to succeed in life. I wish learning were more about finding yourself and learning about things that interest you. If it were I feel like I would be so much happier and excited to go to school. I could finally learn about the things that I cared about and do something with the knowledge.
My mind completely wandered throughout this chapter thinking about all the things I wish the education system took into account. I feel like our government gives makes schools like a uni-sex one size fits all tank top. They make everything the same for everyone, even though it will only fit a handful of people. Personally if a public school were like a tank top for me it would look more like an enormous pillow case with arm holes.
The horrible part is that while I understand that our civilization is just using school as a sort of population control in order to preserve enough jobs for everyone, I hate the way they do it. Can't they at least make it more interesting for us? Just because we don't do things in a conventional way doesn't mean we aren't learning? Who decides what information is worth learning or not? Because I don't think the people who do decide that are the right people to be deciding. I mean, how much of the information they learned in school do they actually use in their lives today?
“Okay. Yeah, I’m taking the girls to the beach. Uh huh. No, I haven’t done that yet. I’ll figure it out. Bye.” My Mama hung up the phone.
“Who was that Mama?” I did not think she would tell me, but I asks anyways.
“No one.” She drives the car and doesn’t even look at me. Why does she hide stuffs from me? All I want to do is know what’s going on.
“Mama, whys is the sky blue?” I looked out the window of the car. It was a nice day. It felt warm and pretty, and there were a lot of puffy white clouds to make shapes out of in the sky.
“Because that’s how God wanted it,” she told me. She was driving the red car. I liked this car the best out of all of the cars we had because I feel the wind breathing on me and like to look at the sky.
“But why?” Riley said. She was in her green car seat next to me. She had a blue bow in her hair. I had a pink one in my hair. We were twins so I think we have to look alike a lot.
“Because he likes blue.”
“But why?” I said. I didn’t understand why the sky was blue and why the grass was green. What if the sky was green and the grass was blue? Why does all things has to be the way it is?
“I don’t know Cynthia. It just is that way, okay?”
“NO!” I screamed. I didn’t like when she did that. Why couldn’t she just tell me? I know she knows. She just not want to tell me and that makes me mad.
“Madison, calm down!” she turned around to look at me.
“NO! Tell me why the sky is blue!” I yelled at her.
“MAAAMAAA!” Riley screamed. BANG! CLASH! The glass in the window broke and all I see is black.
“Oww,” I whined. I felt my head with my hand. It hurt a lot. It felt like I had one of those big bumpies on my face like in loony tunes, but I didn’t see stars around me eyes like there should have been.
“Oh thank God,” my Mama looked at me. Everything was fuzzy like my stuffed animal.
“Mama, why does everything hurt?” she had grabbed my hand. Her head was on my leg and she was crying. I could hear her cries. Even though I couldn’t see her water on her face, I could hear it coming out. I noticed a big white thing on her arm. It looked like a piece of a blanket scott taped to her arm. “Mama, where’s Riley?” my Mama cried harder. She was shaking. I looked at the room. I saw the room better now. It was white like my Mama’s curtains, but it was a bad white. There is too much light in here I think because it was still a hard to open my eyes all the way.
“Do you remember when I told you about heaven?” Mama’s voice was shaky like her body.
“Yes. You said when people die, they go to heaven. And theys happy up there. Theys get to do what they want and it’s pretty.” I didn’t know why shes was talking to me about heaven when I had just asked her a question. I just wanted to know about Elisa and where she was sleeping in this white room so we could go to the beach. Was she here? Was she at home? “Mama, where is Riley?”
“Riley’s in,” she looked at my face. Her eyes were red and puffy, “Riley’s in heaven honey. She died in the car crash.” Her whole body shook now.
“No!” I screamed. I sat up and tried to push her head off my lap. I looked at my arms and strange straws were coming out of my arm. “What’s going on? Where am I? Answer me!” I yelled. She was frozen like a statue looking at me.
“We’re in the hospital. You were hurt in the crash. So was Riley and,” she stopped speaksing, “She didn’t make it.” Water burst from her eyes like rain.
“No. No. You’re lying. You always is lying to me and I don’t like it.” I tried to pull the weird clear things out of my arm. It hurt and stung and I felt the tears come out of my eyes. I was screaming. I did not know when I screamed, I just hear it. This is a dream. It has to be. She’s lying to me. She’s a liar.
“Madison calm down! Please calm down!” She put her hands on mine. I pulled them out.
“NO!” I didn’t want her here. I wanted to wake up from the dream I was having. I wanted to wake up and go to the beach like we were supposed to.
Big people in white long shirts and short green shirts walked over to me. I threw my arms and moved my legs. I just wanted to get out of the white room. The tubes kept me on the bed. I cried and cried and cried, and the green shirt person walked towards me with a needle. I moved back and sat on the wall. I didn’t want her to poke me with that needle. I cried harder. Instead of poking me with the needle, she poked the tube. “No, no, no!” I screamed. My eyes felt tired, but I didn’t want them to close. I wanted to wake up, not go to sleep.
I woke up, but I was still in the white room. I lift my arms, but something was not letting me. I looked down, and saw brown straps. They looked like belts around me like the hand necklaces Mama wears for parties. “Mama!” I wanted her to come so I could get the hand necklaces off and go home. A lady in a green shirt walked in.
“Hi Madison, I’m Lisa. Are you hungry?” she smiled like I was fine.
“I want to go home!”
“I know honey, you can go home soon. How about I take off your straps off and we go for a walk?” she was still smiling.
“Fine,” she started to take the belts off. I hugged myself when she was done. My head still hurt, but all I wanted was to go home.
“Let’s go for a walk,” she pulled me off the bed. My legs felt like the jello I had eaten that morning, like my arms and head were too heavy for them. The lady grabbed my hand and pulled me forward. When we got into the hall I saw people in polka-dotty dresses walking. There were kids and big people. Some looked like my Grandma with white hair and saggy skin.
“Get away from me draconian demons!” a man ran out of a green room.
“Mr. Singer, please come back into the room,” I heard.
“You can’t cajole me into this! The hoi polloi may believe you and your so called panacea, but I never will!” He waved his arms around like he was dancing.
“What’s going on?” Lisa dropped my hand.
“He thinks we’re trying to kill him because we need to give him his insulin shot.” A man walked out of the room. His shirt was green like Lisa’s.
“Have you tried conceding with him?”
“Yes, but he won’t listen. He goes in and out of knowing where his is and who we are,” he put his hand on the man. The man yelled in protest and his eyes looked like the people on the street Mama called crazy.
“Madison, I’m going to help my friend here treat this patient. Can you sit on this bench right here and wait for me please?” she was still smiling. I nodded. As soon as she was gone I took off running. My legs felt better now, like they could carry me. I didn’t know where to go but I saw a lady in normal clothes and followed her. I could see big glass doors and cars outside. I ran at the door.
“Madison!” Lisa called. I ran faster. My head hurt worser but I kept running. The doors opened for me like they wanted me to get outside. “Someone stop her!” Lisa yelled. I heard feet tap dancing on the floor and trys to run fast.
“No! I’m going home!” I yelled. My head hurt worse and everything looked smudgy. My eyes couldn’t see well so I just kept running.
“No! Stop!” A man yelled but I kept running. Everything my eyes sees was black. My feet went down and a car’s horn honked loud. I saw Elisa and she wasn’t smudgy like the outside had been. She put her hand out and I grabbed it. She smiled and I knew everything would be okay.
1.) I am going to try to challenge myself more in Humanities by asking for extra challenge work when I have finished the given assignments and made them to my standards.
2.) Try to make every draft of an essay or writing piece within the maximum length so that I can break my habit of going over the page limit. I plan to do this by cutting every single draft, first drafts included, to be the maximum size.
3.) Continue to do all the given extra credit in Humanities to challenge myself more and help to keep my grades up.
4.) Read all instructions on assignments so that I do not accidentally miss an instruction.
After writing the papers about our pillars in our civilizations, we had to create a painting on a portion of a pillar in our 9th grade commons of something having to do with our pillar. Because my pillar was government and society, I decided to paint an enlarged version of the Athenian Owl coin.
Process:
Before painting the Athenian Owl on the pillar, I drew it in pencil on a piece of paper about the same size as the space on the pillar. When I was satisfied with my drawing I showed it to Charlotte and once it was approved, began to sketch it lightly in pencil on the pillar. My initial design was too small so I had to re-sketch it on the pillar. Once both I, and my teachers were satisfied I began to paint the main details and background. Then I added the smaller details to it to make it more my own. I really like to personalize my art, so while it still looks like a traditional coin, I still wanted to add more details to show the depth of the coin. I did this using different shades of the color. I then created a box for the title in pencil using a ruler so the the letters would be about the same size and on a straight line before sketching out the letters and painting them onto the pillar.
Reflection:
I learned a lot about how important drafting is to art. If I had just started painting the owl instead of doing a rough draft on a separate piece of paper, and then sketching it in pencil on the pillar before painting I probably wouldn’t have been satisfied with my painting and would have made a lot of mistakes. The title would have also been more crooked and uneven in size if I hadn’t used a ruler to size it the right way. This drafting and revision, as well as small steps I took helped me to learn to create better art.
I had a bit of trouble when I added my name to the painting. I accidentally smudged it and had to go back over with gold paint and then re-do it. This left me a little stressed for time in the end.
Next time I paint I would do everything the same because I think my painting came out really good. If I apply the same careful thinking and precision to the rest of my work too I am sure all my projects will turn out better.
In this project we had to write a 3-5 page essay about our pillar in our civilization. My civilization was Athens, and my pillar was Government and Society.
Process:
We had many drafts and revisions to go through in this project. I myself had several drafts, including the rough draft and final draft. Each and every time I wrote a new draft I put all my effort into it because I believe that you can only have good revisions if you have a good draft. However, we began with researching. I alone had over 20 pages of research which I read and highlighted using a color coding technique. This allowed my to find exact information easier than having to search through all 20 pages of information. After I had read and highlighted the information I began to write my rough draft.
My rough draft was about 10 pages long, which exceeded the maximum amount of pages. Because of this I had to work really hard to cut the paper down for the first draft. However, when we added in the foot notes to my third draft, it added more than a page to my essay. So, for the next draft I focused only on editing the actual writing, then edited it with Charlotte, re-wrote it again, and cut the fifth draft down to the maximum amount of five pages. By my seventh and final draft I had really solid writing and fit all the requirements for the paper.
Reflection:
I learned a lot about the role government played in the society of Ancient Athens through researching this paper. While I wasn’t surprised at the way the women of Athens were treated, I was still upset by the inequality and unfair treatment of females in their society. It was really sad to me how the only way to have a voice in the city was to become a prostitute. While these woman were the least respected, at least they had more freedom where as married woman were confined to a house all day doing nothing but chores.
When it came to writing the paper, I was really struggling with keeping my draft within the page requirements. However, after learning how to efficiently combine sentences and cut out un-needed information, I was able to turn my seven page draft into a 5 page final essay.
For the next essay I would really like to try to keep all my drafts within the maximum page requirements so that I can spend more time editing my writing than cutting the writing down. This will help me to break the habit of going over the page requirements.
Artifact:
Luna E. Rey
December 8th, 2009
Government and Society in Ancient Athens
“A living civilization creates; a dying builds museums.” -Martin H. Fisher
Over the course of history ancient civilizations have been the foundation for which every modern society has been built. These ancient societies had their own art, architecture, religions, and social classes. However, what really made a civilization was their efficient implementation of government. Without a working government that provides for all their people, civilizations lasted but a small period of time unless they learned to adopt the ideas of another civilization. Ancient Athens was, in particular, very key to the development of our civilizations today and though it had many flaws and failures, Athens' successes were immensely significant to the development of modern government and society.
Home to monuments such as the Acropolis and Parthenon, Athens was and still is a city bursting with great architecture, technology, and art. During the time often known as the "Golden Age" of Greece, Athens saw a huge development in philosophy and the arts due to such inspirations as Sophocles, Socrates, Plato, and Herodotus. The birthplace of democracy, Athens is greatly thought to be the most influential on western civilization due to its many developments within intellectual and artistic areas[1].
Democracy in Athens was a huge success. They had a two-part legislature, similar to our three-part legislature in the United States, composed of the Assembly, orEcclesia, and theBoule,Or Council. The Council was made up of 500 men, fifty of which were chosen from each tribe by random drawing every year, whose job was to draft new laws and policies for the city/state. The Assembly, made up of nine administrators and ten military officials, would get together and discuss propositions before voting to reject or accept the legislation the Council had formulated. Every male citizen had the right to speak and vote at these gathering, similar to how we vote in America today, and at least 6,000 men had to show up in order for the Assembly to take place[2]. This was one of the many duties assigned to male citizens that allowed them to participate in the politics of their city. The assembly was a great tool that created a freedom of speech type of environment which encouraged the citizens to contribute to the process of law.
Male citizens were also summoned to serve as jurors for the city/states’ court, made up of 200 – 400 men. Such a large number ensured that the accused could not bribe the jury to dismiss their case. If the person was found guilty, they either paid fines and suffered temporary loss of their citizenship for smaller crimes, or were exiled or sentenced to death for serious offenses[3]. These punishments effectively kept the people of the city in check and rid Athens of a high crime rate. Even their government’s leaders had punishments for not doing their job correctly.
One specialized form of exile wasostrakons.If a leader received more than 6000 votes in compliance with his being power-hungry and or dishonest and unpopular than he was exiled for ten years. This efficaciously kept the exiled leader from knowing of thehoi polloi'sopinions and goings on within the municipality because the people of Athens relied heavily on communication for news to get around[4]. Overall Athenian leaders were very successful in keeping their people happy and letting them have a say in the politics of their city, but women and non-citizens needs were neglected.
While Athens' democratic government was highly effective for an ancient civilization and greatly impacted the world around it, their society was filled with many flaws. In Athens male citizens ruled the city. The highest in the male social class was Aristocrats, followed by small farmers and Thetes (urban craftsmen, artists, and trireme rowers). As citizens they could participate in the poli's or politics of the city-state while women could not.A man’s job in Athens included heading the household, providing food and shelter for his wife and children, and participating in the politics of the city[5]. However it was greatly thought in Athens that only Aristocrats should have a say in the politics of the city[6]. This popular opinion produced a strong distinction between poor men and Aristocrats, who heavily believed that poor men should have the same rights as Metics (immigrants and were only allowed to own land in the city and could never gain citizenship). While Athens failed in the way Metics rights were limited, and the idea of poorer men being denied the right to have a say in the politics was embraced, they could have improved their government and society even more significantly by giving women and slaves a voice in their community.
Women in Athens were viewed as highly sexual beings with uncontrollable sexual urges that had to be contained for their own benefit. For this reason, they were controlled by the men in their life from birth to death. Married women in ancient Athens social standing was the same as her husband's. While they were the most respected in society, they were also the least free. They were almost never allowed to leave the house, except for a few convivial religious festivals, weddings, and funerals[7]. They were confined to the house most days and given little more rights than a slave and were looked to only to bear suitable children; however; married women were extremely more respected by men and other married women than un-married women.
Women who were not married were separated into two classes. The Hetaerae class was more educated than either wives or concubines. They were sexual and intellectual companions to men and were paid an expensive price for their company[8]. They were allowed into parties with men and were able to freely speak their mind about the goings on within the city. While the wives did work at home, looking after children and attending to the house, these women were allowed outside and had more freedom as they were not controlled by their husbands and/or fathers, giving them more rights than slaves. Then there were the Concubines, poor women who tended to be widows, girls that were left to die as babies and slaves who were prostitutes[9]. While most un-married women were not treated very well, they were often treated with slightly more respect and acceptance than the slaves in Athens.
Even though the city eventually rid itself of slavery, it was still a huge fault within the civilization because it allowed the unacceptable and un-fair treatment of human beings. Male and female slaves within the city were treated very brutally. Female slaves mainly worked in brothels and houses, which was much more humane than male slaves’ jobs[10]. Male slaves attended to the duties their masters had given them, as did females. However, unruly and disobedient male slaves were often sent to work in the Athenian silver mine, an assignment looked upon as a death sentence, where they were shackled in chains, brutally treated by their masters, and had no hope of gaining freedom[11]. This punishment was extremely inhumane and was a major fault in ancient Athenian society. The mistreatment of woman, use of slaves, and unfair deployment of non-citizens were major faults that plagued the city. So, while the democratic government was mainly successful, not including the exclusion of woman from politics, their society was a huge detriment in their civilization. However, the mix of both a faulty government and bad social class and standards could have led to the downfall of the Athenian civilization.
Without the development of democracy, Athens would have been filled with even more faults, just like the Mayans whose civilization was killed off by Spanish invaders. While the Mayan empire was much younger than ancient Athens, it was also much less developed. The Mayans were a monarchy ruled by priests, where as Athens was ruled by the citizens. Both civilizations where heavily religious based, but the Mayan government was focused even more solely around religion. They, like Athenians, had sacrifices, but they sacrificed their own people instead of animals and used it as part of their government verses a religious ceremony. This led to a decrease in population which, when the Spanish invaders came, was not very helpful to the survival of their civilization[12]. The Mayans had a great military, but failed to survive because of their faulty and un-fair government which, as a monarchy, didn’t provide an opportunity for their citizens have a say in their government, just like the city/state of Sparta.
While the Spartan’s military was extremely successful, its government, which Aristotle called a mixture of a Monarchy, Oligarchy, and Democracy, was seemingly unsuccessful because their race eventually died out, and their war practices often led to the deaths of their own people. So even though the Spartans and Mayans ranked high in many areas where the Athenians did not, such as their military and fairer treatment of women, they also lacked in areas where Athens excelled, such as government.
Athens was greatly significant to the development of modern day democracy, but failed to have the voices of all the citizen’s heard. Because of this it was very hard for the government to do what was best for all of their people. Because over half the people living in Athens could not voice their opinions, such as slaves, Metics, and women, their needs were often forgotten amongst the voices of the male citizens. So, in society Athens lacked in creating equality. However, overall their government was immensely successful in getting most opinions heard which is more than can be said for most civilizations of their time and after. Though their society lacked in fairness and equality, without Athens and their immense developments in government, modern day administration would cease to exist as it does today.
To me, a hero becomes a hero when they have been defined that way by another. This is because a hero is different to each person. For instance, some people consider Soldiers heroes, others do not. It really is defined to each person as that way. And every hero, regardless of by who or what they have done, have been defined by someone as a hero. To me, that is all that matters.
Project Description: In the A Hero in My Eyes project we had to create a character sketch of a person that had created a personal impact (meaning we knew them personally) on us. The pieces were accompanied by two black and white photos, one portrait and one full body, that we had taken ourselves of our heroes.
Process: I first interviewed my hero, Ms. Lopaz, the Director for High Tech Middle Media Arts. I then typed up that manuscript and wrote the first draft of my character sketch. After a peer review I edited my rough draft and re-wrote it. This was then edited by Charlotte, our teacher, and edited again by myself. I then added in word of the days and made it more picturesque. I also then took the photos of Ms. Lopaz that I needed. After I had my final drafts of everything I put it into the class template along with a blurb about my hero that I had written.
Reflection: In this project I didn't really run into any problems while writing my piece. However, I did have to cut it down from 2.5 pages to 2 pages which was really hard to do without missing content or getting rid of some great sensory details and figurative language. In the end I was able to do it though and learned to cut my paper down while keeping the important content. I also encountered a problem when I was trying to put my photos into Adobe InDesign. The photos became very pixelated in the template, but after much trial and error I was able to convert the files into high quality using Adobe Illustrator. This solved the pixelation and taught me to not be afraid of technology. Overall I learned a lot in this project. I learned how to write a character sketch, conduct an interview, and use InDesign as well us cut down my papers efficiently.
Habits of Mind: I really think I used the habits of mind ownership in this project a lot. I constantly asked myself the question, "Is this my best work?" and "How can I make it better?". Because of this I was able to produce better writing than I initially thought I could do.
Picture: The picture above shows how people really define others as heroes. Some say the only heroes are those in capes. Some say that's ridiculous. But I'm sure if you were to ask the child in this photo they would say superman was a hero, and we really wouldn't be able to persuade him otherwise.
"A monumental part of me being here was the Costa Rica trip," I smile as Ms. Lopaz, or Lopaz as I call her, states this with alacrity, "All these people told me it was too expensive, that we didn’t have enough time to fundraise money for all the kids, and that I was in over my head, and I just kept thinking 'I can do it.' No one had used the word impossible.”
"Talking about Costa Rica, what made you want to do the trip?" I ask as she clicks around on her sleek silver computer, her brown bangs falling in her eyes, which she brushed away in an attempt to titivate herself. The small cluttered office around us is full of the same warmth and love as any person's home.
"I love traveling and I wanted to do it with students because it hadn’t really been done,” I smiled as one word, determination, came into mind, “I'm competitive so as people were saying I couldn’t do it, I was all 'well yeah, I think I can do it.' It just felt like such a unique opportunity and authentic place for learning. The students could learn about nature, the environment and currency without having to sit in a classroom all day." Not only could I hear the determination in her voice now, I could also see it on her face. It was the same face she bore at the first meeting for the trip. Both of us were extremely competitive and loved the look on peoples’ faces when we completely blew them away, when we accomplished something they defined as “impossible”.
"How did you feel when you realized we were actually going to Costa Rica?" I say, trying not to be loquacious when I asked the question as my mind came up with more.
"I felt that feeling of 'I can’t believe this'. We spent so much time figuring out all the ways to fundraise so we could go that I didn’t take enough time to realize what a great experience we were going to have there,” I nodded in agreement. It's strange how when we were fundraising for Costa Rica I never once said to myself 'what if this doesn't happen?' There was no 'what if'. There was no 'isn't going to happen'. There were only the words “Costa Rica” implanted in my mind. But sitting here with Lopaz I realized how many things I had overlooked. But maybe, that was for the better. Maybe without all the 'what ifs' and 'isn't going to happens' I wouldn't have worked nearly as hard. It was because of her and Ms. Weisberg’s blatant display of faith in us that we got to go. Suddenly Lopaz passes me a sheet of paper, the movement of her arms moving towards me dragging me out of my thoughts and into reality.
"It's about a moment in Costa Rica," she states as the passes into my hands, still warm, a chocolate chip cookie hot out of the oven that I couldn’t wait to have fill me up.
"In over our heads," the title blares out. Silently I read, laughing to myself as I remember the crazy bus driver who drove through the river when the bridge was shut down and the noisy discussion of the latest scuttlebutt being overruled by piercing screams as we wobbled in the white water, our faces as white as a group of ghosts, but the memories became fugacious when my eyes reached the last paragraph:
As I think back to the interview on that bus, and the number of times Amy used the word “overwhelmed.” Looking back, I think that perhaps Amy and I were in over our heads. But then I remember the giant smiles plastered across our students’ faces as they finished their last zip line, and I wonder if we would have had it any other way.
Overwhelmed, I mouth as I finish. The single word made me realize how much she and "Amy" (Ms. Weisberg) had done for us students. Ms. Lopaz once told me that her goal as a Director was to ensure that students love school, and she had really made that true for me. She truly had redefined the impossible and started my initial drive.
Catching the signal from one of her friends, Angela brushed her skirt, took a deep breath and walked towards where he was sitting. Her feet dragged along the pavement, her mouth practicing the words she was going to say to him over and over again.
“Hey Will, How’re you doing? I was just wondering if you would like to……” the words trailed off midsentence as she watched him close his book, stuff it casually into his bag, and walk away from her. She watched him walk away, standing still on the sidewalk, her mouth agape, before she turned around and walked back to where her best friend was sitting next to the old tree.
“I can’t believe I was that close to asking him,” she murmured, sliding down the old willow tree trunk and collapsing into its shadow.
“Maybe you’ll get another chance tomorrow, it’s not like he’s moving away tonight anyways. No one ever leaves Spokane. Plus you’ve waited for two years already. You can wait a little bit longer,” her best friend, Lily, said, thinking this would help bring her mood up when really all it did was bring back the fear of rejection into Angela’s mind.
“Thanks,” Angela states sarcastically.
“No problem. Hey, I’m gonna hit the music store after school, heard they got the new Kills album in. You wanna go? We can go rent movies afterwards, order pizza, and have a major calorie fest at my place. The rents are out of town so the house is pretty lonely, but they love you and I’m sure they wouldn’t mind you sleeping over.”
“Okay. I could really use a good slice of pizza right now.”
“Good. Pizza is like a gift from God that we can’t refuse. I’m Jesus, I would know.”
“Uh huh,” Angela nods, looking up at the tree. She had always loved the old willow tree in front of the mall. It’s drooping branches and old rippled trunk was like an old mans saggy skin. It showed wisdom in life. She pressed her forehead to the tree, trying to get some of the old trees wisdom to pass into her. It was a psychologist to her in her times of need. Slowly she slid up the trunk, waiting for Lily to realize she was ready to leave. However, Lily being Lily, it took several notifications. A slap on the shoulder, a whistle from her mouth, and a few calls of “Lily” later her friend had risen from the brown earth and was ready to leave. They began to walk away, and before turning at the corner, Angela looked back upon the tree which was dancing to the beat of the wind.
The world passed by silently, the trees swaying softly in the light, humid breeze. Everything was green, brown, and gray with dots of color from the trash that littered the picturesque mountainside, completely different from the white sands and turquoise waters of Bali where we had just ventured from. No sky shone through the clouds here, even though it was 96 degrees out. No matter what the temperature, Java was always gray and muggy, and full of either annoyingly warm mists or shockingly cold downpours. Yet no matter what the weather, Java was always unmistakably beautiful.
I watched everything pass as the train moved sluggishly up the hill, glad that I had rid myself of my slugabed ways and gotten up early for this excursion.
“What about the cake?” Natalie, who had a reputation for logorrhea to maintain, yelled across the train, her voice an annoying white noise to me as I looked below, my forehead pressed up against the cool window pane, my coconut smelling breath condensed onto it as I breathed, the rain blurred my view slightly as it dripped sluggishly down the window. The same rain that helps the beautiful red flowers to ameliorate from the harsh brown earth. I could see the slums made of tin and cardboard with people around them trying their hardest to keep their houses up while the rain slowly broke down the walls of their homes. Next door the kids played in the mud, throwing handfuls of it at each other, enjoying the feeling of it in their hands and laughing as the mud caromed off each other. Suddenly the rural village passed out of my mind as I felt the world stop, my eyes replaying the most disturbing thing I had seen in my short life over and over again. There, in the middle of the hill, was a girl lying alone in a trench of sewage, dead. Her hair was in knots around her body, stuck to the excrement which was starting to become watery in the rain. Her arms and legs were twisted out around her in unnatural positions that my inflexible body would never be able to be in. Her face was cut up, but the blood had long since dried into a rusty smear. What was only a split second of passing felt like an hour as my mind replayed the scene over and over again like a CD stuck on repeat. The image of her face, her arms, and her hair were forever imprinted into the walls of my mind, a constant reminder of how different my life was from the people's here, and not wanting to think about it, I attempted to discard it from my memory.
The petulant feelings I had felt in the past suddenly seemed miniscule in comparison to the horrors I had just witnessed. The fact that a girl, who looked my age, maybe younger, was lying dead in a trench was the most extreme wake-up call I had ever gotten. My life's hardships were like a grain of sand compared to the wave of issues the people here dealt with every single day.
When I first saw the girl, I had tried to shake the picture of her out of my mind, ignoring the lesson she had to teach me. But now, as the scene began to die out and we moved farther up into the mountain, I hugged the memory of her closer. Within those few seconds, passing like hours, I had experienced the most terrifying and clarifying thing in my life.
It begins with the sound of water, trickling softly, tumbling down into the pool. Suddenly it is swallowed up by something bigger, pulling it back as it returns to it's hole. It is climbing up in that way where you pull up a lot, then fall back a little, pull up, fall back, slowly making pace. Slowly reaching it's destination. As it gets to the top it begins to slow down. Somehow, in its slow state, it gains momentum. With a surge of energy pulls itself far up, almost to it's goal. New sounds emanate from the being as it comes up farther and farther. "Plink, plunk, plop" it yells out in frustration as it falls back away, still not quite reaching it's goal, "Plink, plop, plop, plunk!" It gets louder and louder. You can hear the anger in its voice as it struggles to make it to its goal. Harder and harder it works, and still it can not make it. The low grumble turns into a growl as its anger shows. Louder and louder it screams. The rage of mother nature burns as it still almost touches the point. Will it ever make it to its destination? One more surge of energy. One more breath. One more plea and it is there. It is over. To hear the sound click here.
Sliding through the window, my timberlands sliding across the window I had to be careful not to wake my moms and my step-dad. That night had been so crazy, feeling the power of the train in my body. I really think I helped D tonight. I hope he doesn't get nervous again when we start our little money maker back up again. It's all about the power of the train. No body gonna mess with the power of that train inside you. That power's what drives you.
Man, I hope D figures his stuff out. I think he will. Maybe I should suck it up and buy myself a new glove for our next hustle. Then maybe the dude won't blow my hand off. Shoot man, I know I deserved it but that fast ball hurt!
I wonder what would have happened had Sofe not shown me him practicing down at the field? I probably would have still hated the dude. And why do I care so much what Sofe thinks? It's like, she used to be one of the guys, and now, she's kinda a honey. And she looked smokin' that day. For some reason, I just can't get her outta my mind...................................................
