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Showing posts with label Winter 2017. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Winter 2017. Show all posts

Monday, December 18, 2017

Migrating to new ideas.

When your introduce to politics, there are many ways of introducing the idea in multiple form. You could write an essay, paint, sing, or much more. Right now, I am a student at GCE lab school in  a class called Poetic Justice. What we do for this class is that we see how poems affect an idea such as politics, as well as power in general. We have gone to places such as The Third World Press, as well as listen to famous poets such as H.Melt. What we had to do for an overarching assignment was that we work/create a poem that has a political meaning behind it. I, J.N. had decided to preform a poem about immigration. The reason I did this was because immigration strongly relates to people I have seen in my life, such as friends and family. My mother worked in Little Village(a Hispanic/Mexican community in Chicago) and knew many friends as well as even helped then when suffering through deportation. I remember a specific memory with my mother when going into her friends house. The family got the news that the mother was going to be deported, which the children never seeing her again. What was the most emotional part was seeing the father of the family cry right in front of the children when we were trying to help them coop.

Now, the experience of making the poem was somewhat of a hassle/annoyance. I wouldn't call it the worst thing in the world, but not the best thing either. First, I had create a much larger poem that had more literary devices sprinkled around, but was considered to be far too big. Then, I had to re-write the poem in a much smaller version in order to keep with the time demand. Even then, I still had to cut good pieces out of the poem because it got heavily with symbolism. It was one of the main problem with my poems, that it is overwritten with symbolism rather then being strait forward. Another problem with my poem was that I envisioned it to rhyme in order to sound good and have a well placed rhythm. Though that was too high of a problem since it would sometimes rhyme without really placing a meaning. Finally, I had too little literary devices in the beginning of the creation of the second poem. I had to find and rewrite some parts in order for myself to get the full credit. There was other problems such as time and placement, but safe to say, there was multiple upon multiple changes while creating this poem. What I want to work on now is finding ways to minimize my poems and be more direct so that it could match the time limit and also be more understandable.

Now, before we go on with the preformed poem, a little background. 95% of the poem that is shown below mainly talks about a girl known as Rosa Maria Hernandez, who immigrated to the US when she was three months old. Apparently, her family needed medical help for their daughter, and there was little to no therapies/medical center for her conditions in Mexico. The family had illegally lived in the US for about ten years until Rosa was taken in an ambulance and sent to a children's hospital at Corpus Christina in Texas. She had surgery for her cerebral palsy in which she had before birth. On her way their, she was stopped by border police. They allowed her and her cousin to get to the hospital, following them all the way to the destination. You The surgery was a success, but immediately after she was taken to Children's Immigration Center in which she is still held their to this day. The reason this was even consider alright with the general police was that this was in the Trump Administration in 2017, in which more than 40% of deportations have grown since his registration.

You see, this was a time when the Dream Act was repealed on September 5, 2017.  The Dream Act was in summary a legislative proposal for a multi-phase process for allowing immigrant minors in the United States that would first grant conditional residency and, upon meeting further qualifications, permanent residency. In short, it meant that this country would allow immigrates to live here as long as they had certain qualifications as well as not commit any certain crimes. It was administrated as a bill in 2001, and had worked up all the way up to 2012 in the Obama administration. However, after the Trump Administration fully began, the act was fully repealed, and thus 40% of immigration arrest have rose. To myself, I feel this is extremely hypocritical for a country that was founded by migration and ruin native lives in doing so. I personally find it immoral to take the act considering that they are now taking people who have lived here for years, and create a life. This instance is even worse considering that the person being taken back was three months old in immigration, so she didn't even have a choice. What I want this poem to do is to challenge thoughts on people who side with this law.
 
The second poem talk from JN on Vimeo.

If you see the video, then you could see certain types of literate devices used throughout the performance. These being simile, assonance, consonance, onomonipia, alliteration,  and different styles of rhyming. Now, what I been doing with these technics is that I used them to enhance the poem to be better heard. Take for example the rhyming.

The reason I choose that was because I wanted to make the poem flow easy enough so that people could remember it. It was also used to give the idea of speed or quickness, as seen through the 8th paragraph.

Another thing I did was that I used the consonace in order to make something seem spamming/freaking out with it repeating certain sounds more and more. Though you don't see this through all the examples, you could see it in the line 39, where the performer keeps repeating the same first letter "w" in a quick and fast way over and over again, almost as if he can't process what's happening, as well as trying to emote with the audience that this is a worrying idea. The alliteration has somewhat of the opposite effect, as it makes the sentence seem slower or easier to understand. We see this through line 22, when some of the tension through the mood had been lowered.

With onominipia, I tried to create a type of suspense with all my actions, as will as bringing in the imagery for said suspense. We see it this in line 21 and 27, in which we are signaled with unpleasantly do to an image of a creaking door, as well as suspense. Even though it isn't natural onimonipia, it still works the same.

As seen throughout the poem, simile/metaphor have been heavily put into it. The reason why I did this was to give better imagery into the poem, just like the onimonipia for sound. Even though some had stated it might be somewhat of a problem, I always enjoyed did because one can interpret the words in different ways, like all art. I believe the best example would be line 9-16, in which we talk about a knight named dream, who was met to be known as the Dream Act.

The Poem of the Land

A family, who came from where resources were limited,
Who conservatives minds thinks their minds were set to primitive,
Came to the US, a country that wished for certain tongues and same faces
The family had no choice, for it was a girl who needed body braces

She had been born broken, and yet the family believe she could be fixed,
She went to the country of immigrants when she only three months old
The family knew if they were found, they would be filed back home
Eventually the girl’s state would be critical, with the family eventually have to pull the plug

They could have been taken, throw, and shipped if it weren’t for a liberal pack
A knight dubbed Dream came to defend and Act
He defended those with licences not strapped to their wetbacks
Even with his armor cracking, he still stand being protective
To those that the conservative mind would call defective

Yet, as the years went by, his armor kept breaking and shaking
Until the backstabbing pen that once helped lead him flaking
He still stood strong, but was unmercifully whipped until he could not handle
On September 5, 2017, he was beheaded and lost his title

And so, ten grinding years, the girl had grow not so grand and graceful
Her condition had turn mental, and would have turned to stone.
She went to a vehicle, with built in machines, ticks, and beeps.
Till they got to a passing point, with two guardsmen debuting with a loud nauseous door creak

Without the knight, her life was likely to dry up till she died,
The guardsmen looked across the room, with each second acting more decisive
They weren’t monsters, and let the girl move despite orders
Yet they followed her, with each step building borders.

She was cured with ten medics and small swords
But when it was over, a loud nauseous door creek came in waiting for some reward
It was the two guardsmen that came, with laws of Trump card emperor pushing down their throats
They took the girl, 150 miles away from home, and deciding to send her to a place she had never known before

Soon people catch her story, fought on what to do and wondering if they should help or scurry
Some couldn’t react, with their ears being blown on why this is true and questioning what we think is clean, right, fit, or dirty
Other, tried to tell the story about the girl that people were in worry, and were hearing in a  dashing hurry.
Headlines screamed; Border agents detain 10-year-old after emergency surgery

Like a hawk, the story flew to its penetrating pellicle
Liberal were seeing it as desecrating/despicable
But conservatives argued it’s for the greater good
They sneered if a snake slithers away, venom would turn true
They believe crows will come as buildings are splattered with nauseous red dew

The girl now waits weary and is wedged as the weary scale weighing on such truths
For the creaking to come, for what couldn’t be and what could,
They keep her hidden from the eyes far from the wall
Only show to those, the girl never knew at all

Sunday, December 3, 2017

Poem of the Land

Hello everyone, my name is J.N. and I am a sophomore in the class Poetic Justice. What my class and I do  is that we talk about certain poems that have a political meaning in them. We talk mainly about politics, as well as grammer/poetic devices. We went to such places as Gwendolyn Brooks College Prep, and the Poetry Foundation to learn and relate more to these subjects. What my class and I did for an assignment was that we had to create a poem that was talking about a political subject that was important to us or had relations to us. Multiple people did such things such as mental illness, rape, school structures, and much more. The topic that I talked about was immigration, which I will explain later on why I choose it. Still, what I found hard about this poem was to construct with all the criteria. These include such this as poetic tools/devices, grammar devices, and symbolism. We also had to make it about 4 minutes long. Still, I hope you all read/enjoy my poem.

Now, before we go on, a little background. 95% of the poem that is shown below mainly talks about a girl known as Rosa Maria Hernandez, who immigrated to the US when she was three months old. Apparently, her family needed medical help for their daughter, and there was little to no therapies/medical center for her conditions in Mexico. The family had illegally lived in the US for about ten years until Rosa was taken in an ambulance and sent to a children's hospital at Corpus Christia in Texas. She had surgery for her cerebral palsy in which she had before birth. On her way their, she was stopped by border police. They allowed her and her cousin to get to the hospital, following them all the way to the destination.The surgery was a success, but immediately after  she was taken to Children's Immigration Center in which she is still held their to this day. The reason this was even consider alright with the general police was that this was in the Trump Administration in 2017, in which more than 40% of deportations have grown since his registration.

The reason why I consider this a fellony is that I had seen somewhat of an experience with immigration. Not neccerally directly, but with family members who I can't even say their names without the fear of deportation. My mother, has worked in the Hispanic areas of Chicago and has supported friend/close clients who have immigrated to the US for a better life. What is even worse is how she has even seen(as well as myself) with the effects of deportation, such as an US born child never seeing his mother away do to the fact that she isn't born here. I fondly remember one experience, in which my mother and I went to a friends home, and help with the cooping family members of a parent being deported. I will never forget the face of a good man who I knew, cry right in front of me because heard his spouse was being taken from him by the police. What was worse was that he couldn't do anything about it because of his own unregistration. Even if it is a small impact, I believe this poem is extremely important to who I am, and who my loved ones are.

Poem of the Land - By J.N.

I can tell you stories million to one,
Of how people see and laugh at me for fun
I can give you gifts or tell why “greater good” gave me birth
I can tell you how everybody sees me this earth
I can talk to you of all the things I see wrong, and what I see sad,
I can tell I’m the strongest eagle, and some see it bad

But today, I will tell you all a simple tale,
On how I once thought of promise and love to hail
Of how if you worked like you matter, your life could be less of bitter,
How if you listen to others, there be no true sinners.
The dream I wish, for what it seemed and for those who hoped for me
The dream that courtmen ripped to shreds, to make themselves feel more free.

A family, who wanted this dream,
A family crossed land and could have crossed the creatures of sea.
A family, that came great lengths to me,
A family, who struggled to live happily
They went to a this place,
Where I came to thrive

Blocked by a wall and told this continent it is it’s separate space
Since the orders of 65
They jump through the wall,
Remained unseen,
Knowing for their days, they would be look like insects that crawl
At the eyes of the law it seems.

The heat on their palms and hands,
Sensed like scorpions scavenging on the sand.
As they grew desperately to help
I heard a little angel who cried and yelped

They gained the help, and help was given,
Just like work, it wasn’t hidden
The family handle an ocean of heat
Where in their eyes, it was grey and bleak

But it became cool, as time went by
The girl grew, growing stronger inside.
Yet they knew the child’s hourglass was breaking
Her eyes were dimming, her color was fading.

She was taken into a vehicle with containers/bed seats, side in which she had fear to see.
They kept to hear the sound tick tick, so to hope the machine wouldn’t beep
As the vehicle path was blocked, screeched to a stop
Two guardsmen went to the door knock ,knock

Yet, even at her darkened time when the family was tame and prayed
The people who ancestors were into the same darkened shade
Told this girl she could not be here, for law is order
Yet their blood didn’t come here, and knew their rules were broken

For them, she was an alien, an desecration
A ten year old criminal destined for discrimination
Men of law followed her to the hospital, and went.
the ticking was gone to hold, as if the machines had slept

She was cured with ten medics and small swords
But then she heard knock knock, as if some waited for reward
But it was the guardsmen came, and heard the ticking sound out of touch
The guardsmen took her, like a trophy as such

The girl now waits weary and is wedged as the weary scale weighs on such truths
For one final knock, for what couldn’t be and what could,
They keep her hidden from the eyes out of the wall
Only show to those, the girl never knew at all

Soon people catch her story, fought on what to do
Some couldn’t react, with their ears being blown on why this is true
Other, tried to tell the story about the girl that people were in worry, and were hearing in a dashing hurry.
Headlines screamed; Border agents detain 10-year-old after emergency surgery

Like a hawk, the story flew to it’s pellicle
People were seeing it as despicable
Others argued it’s for the greater good
Law was order, and the way it be it should
They sneered if a snake slithers away, venom would turn true
They believe crows will come as building are splattered with nauseous red dew

In a world today, people hold onto their beliefs,
To the point where they think they cannot be deceived
If that is true, then why don’t you listen to others
If that is true, then why try to take someone away just because it makes you feel safe.

Now, I may ask you, who am I
Am I a hero or villain, for which for you to be upset.
Am I the something to get rid of, so that we go further.
Or am I something, for no things to win




Citations
Merchant, N. “US border agents detained a 10-year-old girl with cerebral palsy..” Oct 26, 2017

Business Insider. businessinsider.com . Web. Dec 3, 2017

Sunday, February 26, 2017

Dreams, Dreamcatchers, and So Much More.


My name is J.N, and I learn at GCE lab school. For a class, I take WAI(Who Am I), which teaches philosophy, philosophers, history, and much more. Wha we had to do for our action project is that we had to create a dream catcher, and symbolizes what the dreamcatcher represents. What I am mostly proud of is that I worked on creating the dreamcatcher in a different style than most dreamcatchers in my class. I hope you enjoy my explanation.


When think of a "great creator" or "a force of nature", one thing came to mind. I have always had the idea that life was not centered around ghost, spirits, or even god. But rather, it would mainly be between cause and effect that we presume is something spirital or magical. For example, if a very religion person was almost killed by a bullet out of nowhere, they would somewhat say that god wanted them alive. To myself, that is simply not the case. There were certain factors that lead that person being alive, without us recognising them. It could have been that the shooter was a lazy shoot, or that he had a second thought do to past experiences. Either way, it's more possible for someone to change their mind about shooting someone, rather than a spirits moving the bullet in an angle farther away while defining the laws of physics. Which is why my center of my dream catcher is a die. It represents cause and effect mistaken for unexplained forces at it's best. One could say that the die rolling on a retain number would be consider luck, but in reality, it would be how fast the person's arm movement is, how heavy the die is, and what is the distance the die was thrown, resulting in loss of energy. The die is supposed to represent math and science mistaken for magic or luck.

How my dreamcatcher is shaped also helps with my idea of math and science being the true force of nature. My dreamcatcher(unlike others) is shaped like a pentagon. It represents two things: separation of traits, quality of the dream.

"Separation of traits" is supposed to represent the relationship between the colors on my dreamcatcher. As you can already see, the main colors are red, yellow, orange, purple, and black. Each has a certain trait that I want my dreams to have. Each dream I want needs to have morals or lesson that my psyche is trying to tell me. This theme would have to be a trait from my personality. This allows the dream to be more familiar and easy to understand. For example, the color red represents determination or passion. If I dreamed about something or someone being determined, this trait would follow me until the end of my dream, trying to teaching me a lesson about being a better person. The same idea is with all the colors on the dreamcatcher. Yellow represents cheerfulness, orange represents enthusiasm, and purple with creativity. Each one represents a certain dream that must mainly have this trait in order for the lesson to work. The final one, black, would be my last resort to learning a lesson if I refuse to understand it. If a dream or multiple dreams couldn't teach me a lesson, then the black trait would need to come in. Black is supposed to symbolise depression, death, and darkness. Black would be the trait that wouldn't create a wonderful dream, but a dark nightmare. The reason black has to exists on my dream catcher is sometimes a person needs a bad experience in order to learn something. If I was stubborn to learn this lesson, or didn't gain the lesson at all, I would rather suffer multiple nightmares, then to not learn anything at all.

"Quality of the Dream" is another reason why the dreamcatcher is shaped the way it is. Between the colors or "traits" of the dream catcher, there are golden. Then, there also the spider net, which is also a golden color. Gold is supposed to represent quality within an item. So, when creating the dream catcher, I thought that in order for it to be successful, it needed to have some quality. This is why their are five points within my dreamcatcher. These gold points represents quality, but separates the other traits from mixing within each other, allowing focuses on each dream to have an individual trait. The dream catcher also has the sides each evenly measured, so that each trait could have an equal, but large amount of influence on the dream. Yet, depending on which part of the pentagon it's on, is used more and less. For example, red or yellow would be the traits in order to teach me a lesson the first since it is at the top, while black is the last to teach me since it is at the bottom.

When I was eleven, there was this dream that was the main inspiration with for the dream catcher to bring nightmares. It starts of with my friends in a circle, playing a sort of game. We were near a church site, and it was snowy. My sister was in the background, reading. Eventually, she walked out on us to a near by gate, and left without a trace. After an hour, my mother told me to find her. I was walking around, when I found red snow. I followed it, and as the more I followed, the more I saw of human remains. I eventually got to the edge of a dark ally way that didn't have much length to it. Right there, I saw my sister, and the remains off what she once was. Her face was torn, and you could see her flesh, as if she didn't have any skin on it at all. The dream then faded into a church room. Where my mother was wearing funeral clothes, and at the middle of the back of the church, stood a coffin resting on a marble table.

This dream is was so memorable. It felt so real, that after I woke up, it was hard to realise that it was fake. When I was eleven, my sister ignored me, and sometimes called me idiot. Not only that, but most of the time, she would admire my younger brother like he was a prince. She would always look at me as if I was some kid that ruined everything. I always wondered why couldn't she like me more. I always wondered if she hated me. I felt like this dream was trying to ask me this question in order to learn a lesson "Would you really be happy if she was gone?". I had always been questioning if I loved my sister, and I never got a true answer from myself.

My reaction to this dream proves that, no matter what, I will always love my sister. I wouldn't enjoy her being gone, I would be terrified. I don't remember having dreams like that anymore, but I wish I did, because it was not my ego controlling this, but a mixture between my id and my superego. The id being that I love my sister as family, and the superego telling me that I wouldn't enjoy her being gone. I feel like their was no ego, there was no comprise, only a trait a mystery and dread throughout my dream. I feel like this dream was, possibly, the most important dream of my childhood. This is why I want nightmares that teach in dreams. I want to have a nightmare to teach myself to become a better person. I would like to have more of these dreams. I would like to have more of these nightmares.

Citations
"Color Meaning"  color-wheel-pro.com   Feb 27, 2017
http://www.color-wheel-pro.com/color-meaning.html

J.N  "Dream Catcher" Own Work  Feb 27, 2017

J.N "Dream Catcher 2" Own Work  Feb 27, 2017

Friday, February 24, 2017

Pollution, and How to End It

My name is JN, and I go to GCE Lab School. I take multiple classes, including Fuel. Fuel is my math and science class, in which we try to learn subjects such as pollution, resources, slope, data, and much more. For my Fuel class, what my class and I had to do is that each of us needs to create an essay about ways to lower pollution. I am happy that I finished my assignment on time, and I am proud of the solutions I had for this essay. I hope you enjoy.

Sunday, January 29, 2017

What is Death?

My name is J.N, and I am a student at GCE lab school. I am in a class title "Who am I" We learn about philosophy, history, and different ideas plagued in history. We go on multiple Field Experiences in order to understand on what truth and memory are. In this class, we are supposed to do a podcast for an Action Project. Each of my classmates had to decide on what we remember, believe, and had to explain why we choose the topic. I have alway wanted to talk about how society precise atheist, and why we believe religion.I have worked on weeks with this podcasts, as well as getting help from my teachers. I had to record this script multiple times in order to get the podcast right. One of the biggest challenges in create this podcast would be to try to shorten it for the time limit.

I am proud of the topic I explained in this podcast. I hope my ideas brings upon new perspective on religion, and society in general. I would like to thank my teachers for helping me create this podcast. I hope you all enjoy.

 

I have always been optimistic about everything. If I would see any dog, I would admire it. If I saw an half empty cup of milk, I would think of it as half full. But I was never optimistic about death.

 I shudder at the idea of death because you can’t stop it no matter how hard you try. To me, the idea of what happens after death haunts me. My mother on the other hand is a high Catholic believer, and had her god in her heart since she was young. But I was never a true believer in religion.

 I always saw the “lord’s” watching as inhuman, and dark, instead of the idea of safety. I have always hated church. My church community would not only try to encourage, but force me to go into group summonings for children. But the more I grew, the more I began to question. I started to hear people talk about their lord and from my perspective, they sounded idiotic. As I grew older, I couldn’t understand the “greatness” of religion.

 It wasn’t until in middle-school when I met a friend named Pablo, who is an atheist. Seeing his life influenced my ideas on religion. It wasn’t until later on that I became an atheist and had certain ideals and opinions on religion. I believe religion was created to confront the idea of death, and that those people who would disagree on religion would be rejected or ridiculed, since they are disturbing or ruining the “truth” religionist have created.

 Plato’s “Allegory of the Cave” makes the reader question something about themselves. Whether it would be their existence, intelligence, or identity . If you don’t know the story, it goes like this. There are prisoners trapped in a cave since childbirth. There is a light shining behind them, and they can only see the shadows of the real world. One day, one prisoner is freed and goes out into the real world. He is blinded by the light of the sun at first, but eventually begins to see. He could have lived in the outside world for the rest of his life, but instead goes back to the other prisoners to tell them what he saw. When he confronts his fellow prisoners, they believe he is crazy, and kills him.

 To me, the moral of the story is how people perceive the truth and how a person is marked as insane or ridiculous, since they think differently. Just how the prisoners believed that our main prisoner was crazy, the same concept goes for people who would think differently about death or religion. There have been multiple famous historical figures who were called crazy for thinking beyond the idea of society and religion, such as Socrates, and are somewhat punished for it. Even when we see these examples, similar events still happen today.

 Religion was created in order to give us a comforting idea on death. We humans are curious creatures, and since we didn’t have much access to the answers such as where we come from, we humans decided to create religion in order to answer these question. We chose to create the answers and reject the truth that state otherwise. In the article “Why Is There Religion” on foundalis.com, the author Harry Foundalis states “ Religion is something like fat: it’s an added feature that used to be useful for our survival in the past, but now causes mostly harm to humankind.”

 Truth is defined as knowledge that is realistic, ideas that are cannot be avoided in this world. Knowledge that isn’t fiction. But we humans can’t stand the idea of nothing when coming onto the idea of death. Especially when it comes to my family, since they are mainly Catholic. In the words of Harry Foundalis “But what nurtures the human psyche with courage is not the particular idea of salvation, but the more general one of afterlife, the hope that death is not the end of it all.”

 We can’t avoid death, but that doesn’t mean we can’t accept life. Sure, you can think that we become nothing, and be scared of death, or you live your life the way you wanted to. Unlike death, you can change life, and you do know what happens in life, good or bad. Not only that, but there might be proof of life not ending when death comes. In the article “First Hint of ‘Life After Death’ in biggest ever scientific study” on telegraph.co.uk, It states “ Of 2,060 cardiac arrest patients studied, 330 survived and of 140 surveyed, 39 per cent said they had experienced some kind of awareness while being resuscitated”. Don’t fear death, but rather live life.



Harry Foundalis “Why is There Religion” foundalis.com Jan 25, 2017
http://www.foundalis.com/rlg/WhenceReligion.htm

Sarah Knapton, “First Hint of ‘Life After Death’ in biggest ever scientific study” telegraph.co.uk Jan 26, 2017
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/science/2016/03/12/first-hint-of-life-after-death-in-biggest-ever-scientific-study/

“Relaxing Piano Music, Peaceful Music, Relaxing, Meditation Music, Background Music, ☯2982” youtube.com Jan 29, 2017
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wh6TE6dDwuI

“CAVE SOUNDS” youtube.com Jan 29, 2017
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JVhZMcBOPWE

Friday, January 20, 2017

The Most Well-Known Fuel in the World.

Coal is the most well known fuel/fossil fuel in the world. It created the industrial revolution, and has advanced human society to where it is now. Today it is known to power homes, buildings, lighting, and everything else that uses electricity. But when burned, it releases CO2 into the air. Since there is always electricity, there is always too much coal burning in order to bring energy to our houses. The more CO2 in the air, the more the atmosphere traps heat, thus creating global warming.

My name is J.N., and I attended at GCE lab school. My class and I are in Fuel, and we are studying resources and which types of fuels are better for the world. For a project, we have to create a slideshow to show the dangers and how much coal the US consumes. I am proud on working on my project's calculations. I hope you all enjoy.