Mi murál representa el tema de siguiendo tus sueños, y que nunca deberías para de intentar a lograr esos sueños. Soy de acuerdo con esa mensaje. Para mí, hacer eso es tocar mis instrumentos consistentemente (los tambores, bass, y guitarra). El propósito de tocar musica es cuando yo no puedo expresar mis emociones, puedo expresarles con la musica. Hacer eso es ser enamorado con tocar mis instrumentos, y ser feliz y energetico cuando soy tocando en conciertos. Para mí, mis instrumentos tienen una significancia enórme en mi vida. Yo usé colores diferentes, porque un solo colór puede ser muy aburrido. Usé letras de tamaños, diseñosm y colores diferentes, porque como lo veo yo, si todo es lo mismo, no es muy interesante. La tema de mi murál es usar ejemplos de mi interés y vida con musica para mandar una mensáje a otros. Esta mensaje es que sí, va a ser deficil, pero si tu sigues tus sueños, vas a tener una vida muy feliz. Yo escogé el ubicación del mural porque es solo unos metros de mi casa, y es un pared desnudo.
El papel del arte público es para personas que quieren expresarse con arte, pero quieren que todos vean su arte. Pienso que los leyes que estan en su lugar ahora son buenos, útiles, y deben quedar como son. Como yo lo entiendo, muralistas deberían solo poder pintar murales si tienen permiso. Si pintan un mural sin permiso, deben ser castigados. Pienso que voy a hacer un buen trabajo con hacer esto con mi mural. Mi mural es arte expresivo. tyEs imagenes y una mensaje, y esto puede ser considerado arte. Pienso que mi pedazo manda un mensaje muy bueno, y es muy artistica. Soy orgulloso de mi murál, y no podría pedir para nada mas.
Yo vivo en el barrio de Roxborough. Roxborough es un lugar muy seguro para mi, y yo no tengo miedo de ir afuera en la noche. No hay muchos delitos en Roxborough, y la graffiti y vandalismo son poco común. Yo no he escuchado de un asesinato en Roxborough ni un vez en el tiempo que he vivido aqui. Además, el único peligro en Roxborough son jóvenes polémicos que enojan a otros. Mi mural esta ubicado en 203 Sumac St., en la pared de un casa. Yo creo que Roxborough es un lugar que no tiene suficiente arte. No era un movimiento de arte en Roxborough como El Movimiento Muralista, y por eso no hay nadie como los grandes muralistas de México, como Diego Rivera, David Siquieros, o Jose Clemente Orozco.
En mi mural yo incluyo tres de los cosas que yo creo son muy importante para las personas de Roxborough. El primer cosa que yo incluí en mi mural era un niño y su abuelo. Estas dos figuras representan la familia, y los seres queridos. Roxborough es un lugar muy residencial, con muchos casas, y pocos tiendas y edificios. Casi todos las personas de Roxborough tiene un familia en su casa, y todos apoyan a los otros.
El segundo cosa que yo incluí en mi mural eran varias cosas de comida. Yo creo que la comida es un gran parte de las vidas de los personas de Roxborough. En un lugar llamada “Main Street Manayunk”, hay muchos restaurantes donde los personas de Roxborough comen mucho. Todos las personas de Roxborough tienen al menos un poquito de apreciación para la comida buena, aunque las opiniones de que es “comida buena” diferencian mucho.
El tercer cosa que yo incluí en mi mural era dos jugadores de béisbol. Béisbol es un gran parte de la vida de la mayoría de las personas de Roxborough, casi todos han jugado en un equipo de béisbol en un parte de sus vidas, y muchos jueguen en uno de los campos de béisbol en Roxborough sin ser parte de un equipo. Sin embargo, béisbol no es el único deporte que esta jugado en Roxborough, también hay un gran numero de personas que jueguen Fútbol Americano. Las deportes en general son muy importante para Roxborough, pero béisbol el lo mas importante de todos.
Ahora, Roxborough es un lugar muy tranquilo, con un bosque, y un río; sin embargo, si vas cien o dos cien años en el pasado, Roxborough era un lugar con mucho industria. Eran muchos factorías aquí, y todos los casas estaban ocupada por las trabajadores de las factorías. Si caminas a diferentes lugares, puedes encontrar diferentes edificios destruidos que eran factorías antes.
Mi nombre es Brianna Perrin y la pieza que me decidí a crear fue "Puertas a la Paz" por Joe Brenman, ubicado en 1501 Calle Germantown. . Yo vivo en el suroeste de Filadelfia, que es considerado el "ghetto". Mi comunidad no tiene mucha historia que era importante o significativa a nadie fuera de mi barrio. La mayoría de las personas en nuestra comunidad son ancianos o niños pequeños. No hay una gran cantidad de personas de mediana edad. Mi comunidad nunca es tranquilo y que no siempre es una buena cosa. En los parques que tienen un montón de fiestas o eventos sociales. A veces, los acontecimientos pueden terminar duradera durante toda la noche sobre todo con la música a todo volumen. Puede haber momentos en los que no se llevan bien, pero en general estamos ahí el uno al otro, especialmente durante los malos tiempos.
Para mi mural que recrea "Puertas a la Paz" por Joe Brenman. El diseño en mi mural es que la palabra paz se escribe hacia abajo y cada letra representa una palabra. Así que en general cada letra representa una palabra y cada vez que dicen que la palabra paz que en realidad significa lo que cada letra se presenta. La razón por la que eligieron las flores para el fondo es porque las flores son la naturaleza y el color de cada uno de una flor significa cosas diferentes. Morado es sinónimo de encanto. Cuando yo era decorar y pegar palabras, yo no tenía un patrón determinado color, o una fuente que tenía la intención de usar. Las cartas fueron al azar. Pero yo quería que las palabras fluyan juntos. Paz significa "la paz y la educación abre el éxito de la Comunidad". Sine este mural se está creando en la comunidad un poco mal, pensé que tenía que significar algo importante. Tener la paz y la educación en una comunidad puede ayudar a abrir más la participación, el amor y cuidado por los demás.
En mi opinión, el papel del arte público es mostrar a la comunidad que a pesar de que es posible vivir en una comunidad mal, la gente de que todavía pueden unirse para crear algo hermoso. Mi obra es arte porque es demostrando buenas intenciones y el mural tiene un mensaje detrás de ella. Mi opinión de mi pieza es que me gusta la forma en que tomó el mural original y lo convirtió en el mío, sin cambiar mucho. En el mural original se puede ver sólo una puerta y la palabra paz en diferentes idiomas. Circundante que es diferentes símbolos que representan la paz. En mi arte, me hizo lo mismo pero más colores y traté de hacerlo más moderno.
Me llamo es Teodoro Bartolomeo
El nombre de mi mural es El Bosque. Aunque el mural es sencillo, yo creo que un bosque puede represente muchas cosas en la vida. El mural está ubicado en 47th y Warrington 19143 en Filadelfia, PA. El barrio es muy diverso porque muchos gente están estudiantes. Benny Lai de el restaurante de Vietnam dice que él vivido en la Ciudad de Universidad desde el año 1979. Él es un inmigrante. La mayoría de mi barrio es joven pero muy diverso. La historia de mi mural es también sencilla, pero el simbolismo es conmovedor. Pienso que bosques es similar a una comunidad porque todos tienen crecimiento. El crecimiento puede ser bueno, pero el crecimiento puede ser mal y deprimida a la comunidad. Filadelfia luchas con violencia, drogas, y se puede vista como un malo ciudad. Pero, muchas cosas hacen la ciudad magnífico. Creo que el arte público es muy importante a las comunidades porque las imágenes reflejan la gente de muchos barrios. El arte es diverso, y no es especial a uno grupo de personas. El crecimiento en una comunidad es las etapas a un mejor barrio. El bosque es mi representación de que creencia.
El mural tiene un elemento que hace especial. Simbolismo es muy importante en el mural, porque sin simbolismo, las imágenes es solo árboles. Sin embargo, los árboles está muy magnífico. El papel de los árboles es mostrar crecimiento en un medio ambiente. El propósito de el mural es dar el observador un sentido de reflexión profundo. Los colores yo tengo están verde, un pequeño marrón, y blanco, pero, la mayoría está verde. Yo me gusta mis colores porque ellos representan lo que estoy tratando hacer. Verde es un color de vida, y crecimiento positiva. Porque la tema es sobre nuevo vida, yo creo que verde es un buen color. Sin embargo, el marrón es sobre el mal cosas. Las cosas mal están ocultos de el público, pero no necesariamente por las oficiales de la ciudad. La gente no les gustan los delitos y el vandalismo. Que es por qué los murales están importante. Son pintado por la gente de la comunidad de Filadelfia. ¿Quién pero la gente de Filadelfia haría a entender?
El mensaje de mi pintura es sobre tranquilidad. Yo creo que arte público es sobre los opiniones de las personas de el área. Mi mural ubicado es cerca de un jardín de comunidad. Yo pienso que mi idea de crecimiento positiva y tranquilidad es sobre que filosofía. El propósito de arte público es a dar la gente un representación de visual de la vida. Mi mural es sobre la vida, y sobre comunidad. Como lo veo, el arte es por las personas, y no es ser oculto. El arte necesita a simbolizar las emociones y observaciones sobre las cosas en la vida. Yo creo que arte puede empoderar piensa creativa. Mi mural es arte porque la pieza represente mis opiniones, y es verdad a mi vida. Mi ubicación era importante también, porque yo quería a tener mi pintura con la ciudad. Mi muro es roto, y capeado, pero con los árboles el mural es muy interesante. El medio ambiente de el muro está difícil, pero el muro ubicada es en la jardín muy tranquilo, y que ayudan el mural a tener un mensaje. Yo estoy muy alegre a ser un muralista!
My name is Luis Andrew Clark. The decent into my pitiful life started when I was nine years old. Unbeknownst to me that was when my mother developed Tuberculosis. I remember her as a radiant, soft-spoken, and wickedly funny woman. When the other boys would pick on my because of my glasses or inhaler, she was always there to give me warm sugar cookie-smelling hugs. But the disease spread quickly and took her from me the month after my tenth birthday.
From then on it was my dad and I. He on the other hand was quiet, to him self, and had a stern look that could make a MMA fighter wet himself. With my dad you were better off not talking to him unless you were bleeding to death. Two years later my dad married again, to a woman named Demetra. She, like my dad, could be quite intimidating.
Piling on the fun, Demetra had a son named Richard. He was my age and had a sour face. As I grew in this dysfunctional family he became known as ‘Dick’ to my friend David and me. Believe me the name fit. Dick tortured and bullied me all through out middle school up until high school.
“What’s up Luis-And-Clark?” David popped into my room in the front of the second floor.
“Nothing much my werewolf compadré.” That was my friend David Lucian, hence the werewolf nickname. He was kind of short, and weird, but he was my best friend.
“So have you talked to Rora yet?” David elbowed me as I sat at my desk doing math homework.
“Nah, she wouldn’t want to talk to me.” I shrugged it off. Aurora Lynn was a popular girl in our school who I used to be friends with until her jock boyfriend and his boys threatened me.
“That’s right dork. She is way outta your league.” Queue the annoying and abusive stepbrother from hell. “But I totally wouldn’t mind hittin that fine piece of –“
“Don’t talk about her like that!” I yelled. She was the girl of my dreams, beautiful respectable and brilliant. Yet he talked about her as if she were one of the other girls. With in seconds of my outburst was a fist aimed at my lower stomach. As I doubled over from the blow I felt the mop of dark brown hair on my head being pulled upwards.
“Listen here Nerd-Turd, I’ll do what ever the hell I want, and you wont do a damn thing. Got it?” Vigorously I nodded my head as well as I could. “That’s what I thought douche bag.” As he walked out of my room David came and helped me up. I never looked at him for help since he was shorted than me, and just as scared of Richard.
“No . . . more. David. No more. I can’t take this. Its time for a change.” As if fire was running through my veins I dashed to the door, locked it, and back to my computer. Fingers like lightening I typed the only way I knew how to beat Dick. I was going to find something using the almighty Internet.
~One Month later~
How did it turn out like this? All I wanted was a normal life. One where I was cool, had fun, and could be with the girl of my dreams. I never should have gone to that website. I can still remember the words it said.
Youth, Strength, and Agility
Have all you’ve ever dreamed and more.
The elixir of the gods.
I never thought that when they meant youth, that I would stay 18 forever. That ‘special’ elixir they were selling was vampire blood, and it came with a price; Eternal Damnation.
A week after receiving and drinking the elixir, I started to change. My hair, once stringy and almost black, turned full and grew golden tints. My brown eyes, turned completely black, my naturally tan skin slightly paled. I didn’t know what was happening, but it felt good. I felt stronger, looked it too since I was no longer lanky but filling out my skin. There should have been a damn warning on the bottle.
-WARNING! Don’t drink this unless you never want to see the sun again. -
Yeah that would have been good since my first day as a vampire I ended up getting a huge burn on my arm from the light coming though my blinds.
I’m not proud of my choices in life. I never thought I would kill people, or scare the only girl I cared about.
A week after my change I went to a school party that was, thankfully, after sundown. The only one who knew about the ‘new me’ was David. He didn’t take it too bad. He was scared of me at first but soon realized that I was still the same person. So we went to the party, and I tried to keep a low profile. I didn’t buy into the idea of the animalistic cravings for blood, but I didn’t want too many people asking questions that I didn’t have answers too.
Then I saw something that made my, nonexistent, blood boil. Richard was holding Aurora in his arms, but she obviously didn’t want him to, since her arms where bracing herself, and pushing away. He gripped her butt, sucked her neck, and I was seeing red, specifically the veins in his neck and arms. I couldn’t help my self. I lunged, flying past people so fast that there was only a dark blur, and gripped him by the shirt. He was frightened at first since I had appeared from nowhere. Then after he realized it was just me a cocky smirk was on his face as if I posed no type of threat. He was painstakingly wrong.
I dug my hand into his neck as I walked to an empty room. He started to turn pink, then red, and almost purple from my vice grip. Now I’m going to spare the gruesome details, and just say he didn’t stay purple too long before there was crimson liquid covering the beige walls. I killed him out of fury never expecting that the love of my life was close behind me and saw the entire thing. I turned around when I heard the door knock into the wall. Aurora in all her golden hewed glory stood staring at me, but never running away. Out of shame I opened a near by window, jumped landing in a crouched position and ran for ever-lasting life.
I ran, ran away, ran to make distance, and ran for almost an eternity, simply to make a space between my past and me. I stopped only to land in Canada, in a forest, surrounded by trees. I found a cabin, which had been vacant for a long time, based on the lack of electric work and abundance in dust and cobwebs. This would be my home; I would feed off of animals, keep a low profile, and distance my self from the world.
Me llamo Edgar Pacio y me encanta el arte. Vivo en la comunidad de Lawncrest en el Noreste de Filadelfia. En mi comunidad hay poco arte. Hasta hay poco graffiti en las calles cerca de mi casa. Por esta razón he creado el mural titulado “Alcanza las Estrellas”. El mural estará ubicado en la Avenida Rising Sun en la pared de la biblioteca de Lawncrest. Mi comunidad es mas o menos tranquila y tiene una historia muy interesante. Para contar la historia de mi barrio, se puede ir asta los años mil seis cientos. Varias iglesias fueron construidas en la comunidad, una iglesia ha estado desde los años mil seiscientos. En los años mil novecientos la comunidad estaba poblado por los Alemanes. En estos años la comunidad empezó a construir mas servicios públicos. Una estación de bomberos fue construida en 1920. En otros cuarenta años la biblioteca publica fue construida por la escasez de libros en la comunidad. Ahora mi comunidad no es sólo de puro alemanes, ahora hay de todas culturas.
Las imágenes de mi mural son unas manos que están tratando de alcanzar las estrellas. Las manos simbolizan las personas con sueños, y las estrellas son símbolos de esos sueños. Los colores que use son varios. Use un color azul medio oscuro para representar la noche. Las estrellas son varios y son un color en medio de blanco y amarillo. Mi mensaje es que los sueños son comos los estrellas, están de larga distancia pero ser pueden alcanzar con determinación. Las personas deben tratar de alcanzar sus metas y sus sueños. Como mi mural será pintado por la comunidad, vamos a necesitar pedir permiso de pintar en el pared de la biblioteca. Además muchas personas visitan la biblioteca y el parque que esta cerca. El mural será visto por la comunidad entera y los va hacer orgullosos de la arte y de si mismos.
Para mi, la arte publica esta para expresar la comunidad. Expresa sus culturas, su historia, y su ayuda formar una identidad para la comunidad. Ayuda las personas de la comunidad a ser mas orgullosos de su barrio. El arte publico trae a las personas de la comunidad juntos para una ocasión importante para la comunidad entera. En mi opinión, mi mural si esta sirviendo su propósito. El propósito de mi mural es para ayudar a los personas de mi comunidades de nunca soltar sus sueños. Mi mural es un tipo de arte con un mensaje fuerte. En mi comunidad, ay algunos estudiantes que se van a otros lados en debes de ir a la escuela. Ellos están dejando sus sueños atrás, y mi mural los va apoyar en que se recuerden que los sueños pueden ser realidad. El mural costara mucho dinero, pero desde mi punto de vista el producto final vale la pena.
The meteor shower went on for five days straight, which has never happened before not since the beginning of this world. The story is that Galum created us, our God. Galum decided we needed protection, including protection from showers like this, this protection was been up for billions of years but it’s went down and we did not know why. The priest who is child of Galum interprets his father. For us, the Valadamirs we worship him not as a father but as everything. The Valadmirs are an ancient civilization that was here before the beginning of time. The priest says Galum was mad at us for being selfish and his father might end us all. But he will not end me, Galum chose me I am the pure bred.
A girl is chosen when the priest turns 30, all the girls that turn sixteen that year are examined but only one is chosen. We stood on the steps of the cathedral, and we were examined by the priest, and the purest girl was chosen to breed a child with the priest to continue the line of Galum on going for centuries after us. This did not happen. The Galum gene always wins over Valadmirs blood, they want the purest blood so the Galum gene is not tainted. There would have been no trace of me in his blood, he would have been a boy Galum wills only boys to be the priest, and I had a rune on me that only makes me bare a boy. I have a permanent rune on me that mark me as the priest property.
Maybe it’s the fact that they thought I was pretty or that I went to the cathedral once a day, when we only needed to go twice a week, or maybe because I found beauty in everything. I don’t know why they chose me; the explanation was that your blood was the purest, nothing more. I loved Galum more than myself, I would have done anything for him but surprisingly I was not happy about the fact I was the chosen one. When he announced the chosen one in front of the whole world the Valadamirs lit up.
“Galum has spoken, Valexia Morgenstern is the pure breed.” The priest said with a quiver of happiness. I stood on the pedestal accepting my fate with a neutral look. My stomach churned, as he announced the date that we would of had the child.
“Galum wants the offspring born on the 14 of July,” the priest said giving me my special cloak. The cloak was beautiful, a white silk that wrapped around my neck and down to my feet trimmed with gold and golden bow that wrapped around my waist. But that did not feel right, everything felt wrong.
There was something wrong I knew it, it wasn’t just the meteors my parents would not stay still, they would not talk to me, and people came over constantly. My parents were the cool and collected type, something was wrong and they knew what. Every time I asked my mom told me that the pure bred is not suppose to be worried and she sent me off to my room. I got no response at all from my father; he rushed back and forth from his office to the front door where new faces come in and out of my house.
The sixth day arrived; the meteors had stopped falling from the sky. Galum granted us another day of beauty, or so I thought. There was something that still made my stomach churn, the sun rose like every day but some was not right. My parents still acted strange. My father stayed in his office much like he had for the months before the end came and my mother was in the kitchen looking like something took the life out of her.
“Mother I am not a child, tell me what is going on.”
“There are forces much greater than Galum.” She said sad and distant, looking at her hands that were pale and weak.
“How can you say such a thing? Galum is stronger than life itself.”
“Valexia, I hope you never have to see those forces.” She looked into my eyes with a strong steady hold “I hope those forces are far away, for I fear they are near. Only if…”
“Mother this is insane, Galum created this world and everything in it. He is God, the god of everything.” I thought he was the God of everything.
“There are worlds beyond our world, Galum is not the only creator. Yes he created us but…” her eyes looking dazed, I interrupted suddenly and dismissed the idea of something being greater than Galum.
“GALUM, is everything no force is greater than him.” Angry I stormed out of the door, I went to the cathedral. As I walked down the street everyone greeted me, and offered me groceries, antiques. I forgot for a moment that I was the pure bred; I put a sweet smile across my face.
“I am very gracious for all of your offerings, I shall be back later to accept this wonderful gifts after I return from the cathedral.” I said politely, smiled at everyone and they all nodded. Mother always said a pure bred that walks proud through the streets gives hope to the hopeless. Anyone who lost hope we right but I didn’t know that then. I walked down the street where the cathedral stood, I approached the cathedral and the world shook.
I ran to the cathedral as fast as I could, my golden bow came unloose fell to the ground. The world shook again, I reached the steps of the cathedral and the priest was lying on the steps begging.
He said “Father take the creatures away, save me.” He pointed toward the sky. I had not noticed the things in the sky. The things were shiny silver, and were floating in the sky. I stood their puzzled; I didn’t know what they were. The world shook but this time the force threw by body to the ground. The crawled by way to the priest his eye were closed, I touched his arm and his eyes flung open.
“Come now.” He said and I obeyed. I struggled up the steps of the cathedral pulling the priest to the door. Before we entered the cathedral I looked back. The silver things landed and things came out of a door on the silver thing, they looked like us. I remember my mother talking about the forces bigger than Galum and that Galum was not the only creator. Could it be that we are not alone? I saw one of things that looked like us killing one of the Valadamirs, what happened to our protection? Where was Galum? What are these things? They attacked us tearing down every part of the world. The screams from people echoed through my ears.
“Where is Galum?” I whispered. I watched my world die, Valadamir by Valadamir. They burned my homes, my crops, and my family. I watched my world go to ash as I stood on the steps of the cathedral.
“Where is Galum?” I whispered. I turned but the doors of the cathedral were closed, the priest escaped through its doors. I stood there; I soon turned to ash as well.
“Don’t leave until you finish your homework” Jessica’s mother yelled down the stairs, barely catching her daughter before she headed out the door. “It’s only Saturday and I’ll be home early” said Jessica dashing out before hearing her mothers reply. She knew she’d be in for it when she came home but this was more important. The ringing has been going on for nearly 15 minutes. Jessica knew she wouldn’t last much longer.
As she raced down the empty Chicago streets, the winter air chilled her burning face. She always loves the cold; it’s Jessica’s security blanket. Jessica turned right, then left and soon vanished behind a vacant warehouse where the Doctor was waiting.
“3 months already? Jeez next time I’ll have to make these last longer” the doctor says in a sarcastic tone. “Jut fix it I have places to be” Jessica said as she pushes past the doctor and into his slaughterhouse like office. As Jessica marches into the back looking for her room, she sees other children in the same position as her. Close to the end at any moment but not willing to let go. As Jessica lies on the icy, steel table she thinks of the day she became one of the experiments.
It was January and her mother was behind in more than 4 months rent. Jessica knew the only reason she still had a home was because it was illegal to evict people in the winter, but winter fades. Jessica remembers the walk home from school when she met the doctor. That day she decided to take the back route it was faster than the main streets but dangerous. Jessica had a lot of homework so she went. She saw the vans with the tables and the ovens as they were moved into the warehouse. Then the doctor saw her and yelled, “Hey, do you wanna make some money?” Jessica said in a timid voice “ Sure.” The doctor walked her into the warehouse and told her to sit down. The doctor went over the logistics, the removal of the lungs, the heart, and the blood loss. He explained that they would be sold to people that need new organs or blood. He showed her the machine, the gears and wires that would soon fill her body. He told her she must keep it a secret because the machinery is not government regulated but, if it works, it could save many lives. He told her this would be the cure to cancer, HIV, and even natural death. Jessica just heard $5000 a month for life.
As the doctor finished up her “tune up” as he describes it, Jessica asks him why she can’t know his identity. The doctor stops fiddling with the gears and says, “Your question is too dangerous to answer.” He then claims he is finished and walks out the room. Jessica leaves the warehouse knowing some thing is not right but not being sure what. Then the ringing begins again.
Jessica falls to her knees; with not enought strength to stand she crawls back into the warehouse. She yells for the doctor, who arrives with a smile and says “another experiment gone wrong.” He yells down the hall “Hey Carmon, fire up the oven. This one is almost gone.”
“Jeez Jess I thought you’d be dead by now” the doctor says as he walks into her room. “Thanks for the support” Jessica replies as the doctor begins to change her IV, “When can I leave? It’s been 5 months.” The doctor insists that she will never leave. “Jessica, you still don’t get it? You have been here because you are broken. It’s only a matter of time before we toss you out. Like the others” says the doctor as he leaves the room.
Jessica, stunned by the doctor’s harsh words, gets up from her bed, removes her IV, and walks out of her room. She hasn’t seen sunlight in months and wants to feel the sun’s rays once more before it’s over. As Jessica walks down the hall she sees the new experiments waiting for their turn and her stomach begins to turn. Jessica thinks to herself “this is unacceptable.” At that very moment Jessica knows what she needs to do.
“I know you think I’m crazy but do an x-ray or something. I’m not insane.” Jessica explains to the police officer. “I find it hard to believe that some crazy doctor can actually turn people into machines without others noticing” says the police officer, “Listen write down the location and we’ll check it out.” Jessica is escorted out of the police station and told to go home. As Jessica begins her journey home her body begins to give out. She falls to her knees and her bones begin to dissolve. Where Jessica once stood, now lays a pile of gears and wires.
Mi mural va a tener cosas divertidas y también cosas que representen que divertido son mis amigos. Mis amigos son las personas mas importantes del mundo. Va a tener videojuegos, fotografías de personas felices, y de perros y otras cosas que me hacen reír. También, cosas que son chistosos y hacen mi vida feliz, estas cosas van a existir en mi mural. Mi mural representa todos que son importantes en mi vida, y todos que hacen mi vida divertido, feliz, y generalmente bien. También, cosas como paz.
Ser feliz es muy importante para todas las personas, y es verdad que feliz es importante para las personas en mi barrio también. Otras cosas que son importante para personas en mi barrio son los deportes y comida. Comida es importante por todos porque necesitan comida para vivir, pero también comida es importante para las personas en Filadelfia porque la comida nativa de Filadelfia es muy rico. Por ejemplo, los “Cheesesteaks.” Paz es importante para personas también, hay muchos razones porque. Un razón es que violencia es responsable para muchos casos de muerte y crimen. Representa mucho delito que afecta las vidas de muchas personas.
Las personas en mi barrio enfocan en todos las cosas que yo dije, pero también hay mas cosas. Las personas tienen muchos otros intereses y valores, tan mas que no tengo la abilidad a hacer en un mural, pero por eso yo tengo otro solución. Para representar todos los intereses, yo voy a incluir unas cosas aleatorias. Si yo hago esto, las personalidades de todos personas yo pudiera representar.
Mi mural podría ubicarse en 22nd y Walnut. Es un lugar que muchas personas van porque es cerca de unos sitios populares y también están paradas de autobús. Así lo veo, es un lugar bien para un mural que podría hacer mucha gente llenos de felicidad. Mi mural no es graffiti, pero obviamente es arte publica. No es que unos personas piensen es “arte real,” pero para mi el arte esta bastante real, y tiene temas de feliz y paz que yo pienso pueden hacer. Personas piensen de las cosas felices o extraños en sus vidas. Esos son las cosas mejores en vida, porque sin felicidad, la vida no importa. Una vida triste con nada interesante o feliz no tiene sentido. Por estos razones, pienso que mi mural esta muy bien por la comunidad y por todos personas.
" You sound stupid! Use the right grammar; I don't know how you get straight A's. People judge you by how you talk, you know that?"
In my head, I’m saying It’s you and me here mom. Nobody can hear me.
But I whispered “Ok”
I never understood language. We all say the same words. If you understand what I’m saying than, why speak exactly proper? People going judge you anyway. If you really got something wrong with you then you get picked apart piece by piece. “Language is power!” That's what my mother always says. I just thought language is one part of the puzzle to how someone can judge you. Race and language relate in away. A black person talk ignorant it's "normal". A white person talk ignorant, they are considered to be talking "black". A black person talks proper they are consider to be talking "white".
“Hey Guys, how are you?”
“Yo Sarena, You black! Cut that shit out!”
“What? I was serious.”
“Why you talking like you white?”
“I was talking normal, I always talk like this.”
“You irk* Me, I swear!”
Just the thought of getting judged by the way you talk, is mind-boggling. You use language to communicate, if you understand me why should I change the way I talk to you? Now when I approach my friends, I talk to them like I’m from the “street”. I speak differently all the time. Speaking to my friends is totally different from when I speak to a teacher now.
“Wassup, what you been up to”
“Chilling you know girl”
When I talk to my teacher we have the same conversation just with different words.
*Irk- means annoy
“How have you been Sarena?”
“I have been fine, and you?”
“I have been fine, thank you for asking.”
James Baldwin once said, “What joins all languages, and all men, is the necessity to confront life, in order, not inconceivably, to outwit death.” Meaning the way my friends and me speak is not taught in school. But proper English is. So the way I talk to my friends and to my teacher is totally different. I wonder, do I change my speech for acceptance? Makes me think about my Identity and who I truly am. I told my great grandmother about my thoughts. Here comes the lecture!
“You got two strikes against you. Being black and being a woman. You can give people excuses to bring you down. If you do, they will use it to their advantage."
“But how, Granny?”
“Most white people think that African Americans are stupid and can’t do what they do.”
“But I’m smart period.”
“By not talking proper, dressing right, and looking presentable. They will look at you like the average black woman. When I was growing up, woman cooked and clean. We spoke our proper English down Flordia, no education really. But the white folk just acted and treated us like we were stupid. When we were slaves, they didn’t even look at us like we were humans. I’m 89; African Americans can do so much now. Including getting an education. Don’t mess it up! That’s all I’m saying, baby.”
I nodded in agreement.
I looked into my great grandmothers eyes, and saw how much she cared. She made me realize that it’s not all about language. I had the pieces to the puzzle but it was never coming together. Language, race, environments, and society are all joined together, most of the time. When my grandmother said, “We spoke our proper English down Florida, no education really.” I formed a question, what’s proper English? Maybe that’s not the question, what’s proper English to people? Where you come from can determine how you talk. One area can think a person from a different area is talking incorrectly. So when my mother said " You sound stupid! Use the right grammar, I don't know how you get straight A's.” She was questioning my education, which is what many do. The reason my mother tells me this is because she didn’t teach me to talk that way. The environment I’m in the most is the way I talk, but sometimes when I change my environment I may speak how I do in a total different environment. They tell me to talk “proper” because the way they talk is different or somewhat “correct”. But didn’t someone create English and other languages. Why can’t I create words and language? New words get added to the dictionary everyday. Maybe you have to be a professor to makes words. Words have meaning, vowels, and letters. Easy to make, but why call my words or words that’s not “correct”, slang. Strangely, what they don’t know that I know is, Race, environments, and society makes up the way a person speak. Not how educated you are, and how well you follow the rules of “proper” English.
1. What is your name (¿Cuál es su nombre?)
2. What college did you graduate from? (¿Qúe unversidiad tú graduo de?
3. What’s your major? (¿Cuál es su meta?)
4. Why do you want this job? (¿Por qué quieres este trabajo?)
5. What makes you different from other applicants? (¿Como es diferente de los otros personas?)
6. What previous job experiences have you had? (¿Qué experiencias pasado tiene de trabajos?)
7. Why should I give you the job? (¿Por qué tengo que darle al trabajo?)
1. Me llamo Carmelo Mangum
2. Yo grado de la universidad de Miami.
3. Mi meta de colegio es la maestría de negocio y matemática en enero 2019. Yo grado uno de mi clase.
4. Yo quiere este trabajo porque esta mi sueño trabajo.Yo quiero trabajar donde yo puede ayudar personas.
5. Yo tiene dos maestrías de colegio y soy un difícil trabajadora.
6. citizen bank contadora- yo trabajo en citizens bank y ayudo personas con dinero. La escuela de Anna b day matemåticas profesor- yo trabajo con los grados de sies y siete Science Leadership Academy principal- yo trabajo con seiscientos estudiantes en mi escuela.
7. Tu debería dar me el trabajo porque yo voy a trabajar cien por ciento.
Comentarios / Recomendaciones
Good job, just fix your grammar.
Good job, everything looks good. You asked good questions
You asked good questions, just make sure there is no background noise.
You did a real good job, nice questions. And the answers were good. Nice job.
You did a good job as far as your volume is concerned, however, you need to use the correct conjugations and say it with confidence. Other than that, you did a good job in your project. J
Strengths of your process or product
Weaknesses of your process or product
I make a good script that makes sense
I have a hard time pronouncing some of the words.
I learned… how to say longer complete sentences
I feel…like I did a good job with my benchmark
If I could do this project all over again, I would… make it longer and put more detail into it
For next year, I suggest…giving more in class time and not having the test on the same time its due.
I watched his lips open, and close, and his lingual frenulum helped to him to roll his tongue to the back of his mouth creating sounds like “HAVE YOUU HAADD ANNY OTHER WOORRK EXPEEERIENCE?” I gazed into his mouth watching so closely that I could see his tonsils dangling in the back of his throat like a pendulum. I saw him gather his saliva as he spoke those questions at me but not to me as if I wasn’t a native English speaker. I blinked continuously to get myself out of the gaze. “ Yes I have been an SAT at an early child care center called Mommy and Me.” I responded in the tone of voice that he asked the questions. I began to gaze again.
I don't know what caused me to gaze, was it the proper English accent that he had which my brain was not used to because of the improper black English that I was used to speaking and hearing, my own language felt foreign to me ears. I understood him but only because of the small bit of words that he spoke that was in my English vocabulary. There is also a very strong possibility that it could have been that we both were code switching and our impressions of code switching were completely different because of the experiences we’ve encountered. This was my first experience with the way one Language can be spoken in so many different ways. Our language is something that roots from the different factors, aspects and experiences you encounter in your life, sometimes even where you’ve lived. People can be from the same place and not even understand each other because of the costumes and changes that they have to their own form of the language they were speaking. I was speaking perfect English, however because of the background of African American heritage, the slight bit of Philadelphia accent, the fact that I had braces, a slight lisp, and a Philadelphia public school education influenced upon my speech he didn’t understand me just as well as I didn’t understand him.
In the film American tongues there were many examples of how people from the same exact country could be so distant in language, and not even realize that they were speaking the same language if they were talking to each other. In the film there were people who would consider themselves speaking proper English but yet if they were speaking proper English wouldn’t anyone from any part of the country be able to understand them? They would insult others by one and other by calling them things outside of their name all because of the thought that they were speaking proper English. This question that is raised in this situation; was if problem was that he spoke proper English and I couldn’t understand him because I was used to speaking improper English or what is considered “Black English.” Or could it have been that I was used to hearing proper English and he wasn’t speaking proper English? My interviewer and I have nothing in common with our language but yet we live in the same country, follow most of the same costumes; we even live in the same state, and city.
When I began to understand the questions it was only because of the forceful but necessary need for me to understand him in order to proceed with as good of a chance at getting the job as I could. This is how the differences in languages evolve when people are forced to find ways to communicate they begin to combine their languages so that they can understand one another clearly with no miss understandings. This was something that was in that James Baldwin rises as a point in his speech “ A language comes into existence by means of brutal necessity, and the rules of the language are dictated by what language must convey”. This shows that people find ways to communicate because it is a necessity. My interviewer and I found a way to communicate but only because it was a necessity.
The language lesson that I received at my interview taught me, taught me that there is never a real reason to judge anyone about the way they talk because we all talk differently and interrupt things differently, therefore we could have a million and one differ languages evolving in one day, but instead we stick to a way the we all know or can at least interrupt because communication is a necessity.
Hola, mi nombre es Estefan Carrillo y yo voy a la
escuela de Science Leadership Academy. Mi comunidad se llama la Cuidad
Universitaria. La gente en mi comunidad le gustan las cosas naturales, ellos
también son muy el medio ambiente amistoso. Hay mucha gente de
todo el mundo y hay un grupo de gente de africana que le gusta jugar fútbol en
un parque famoso aquí en la Ciudad Universitaria. La gente es muy libre y
muchos hacen lo que quieren pero siguiendo las leyes. mi mural esta ubiqado en la 48 y baltimore en el cafe "Gold standard"
hay unas fotos de gente corriendo o haciendo ejercicio y la palabra “NATIVO”. Yo escogí estas cosas porque mucha gente el mi comunidad hace ejercicio y escogí la palabra NATIVO y el teepee porque eso enseña que la gente que no vive en mi comunidad lo se olvida de sus raíces y enseñan contribuyen su cultura a la comunidad. Los colores yo escogí son el color naranja y hice las letras azul, verde y negro porque esos colores salen del papel y captura tu atención. Escogí el color naranja porque para mi es un color muy nativo y original. El color naranja fue muy bien con las fotos que yo tenia como en la foto de fútbol. El tema de mi mural es como la juventud sigue siendo nativo a la cultura de sus ancestros como se visten y como actúan y compran cosas nativas a su región. Yo estoy tratando de enviar un mensaje diciendo que si eres bueno al ambiente y haces cosas buenas como tus ancestros puedes hacer un gran cambio en el mundo.
El rolo de el arte publico en mi opinión es una cosa artística que enseña un mensaje al mundo diciendo que es importante. Mi pedaco si tiene rollo porque tiene un mensaje fuerte y enseña una historia en una manera fuerte. Mi pedaco si es arte porque Walker cosa puede ser arte y el mio teine un mensaje. un cancion pudue ser arte tambien solo una foto de tu mismo puede ser arte. mi opinion en mi mural es que si es muy bonito porque tiene muchos colores y agara a tu antencion muy rapido porque tiene photos interesantes que te dan emocion ver las.
Hecho por Estefan Carrillo
“Hey can you pass the plain begels?
“What did you say?”
“Pass the plain BEGELS!”
Pointing at a bagel and in one of those smart-ass tones he replies, “Oh, you want this?”
Frustrated, I say “yes.”
As the days went on, and we had bagels for breakfast every morning more people started to notice how I speak and pronounce things differently. For the first week and half most people’s reactions were
“How do you pronounce this?
Or one of the most common one, “hahahahahaha!”
I have to admit, it was annoying after awhile. I would always try to explain to people that’s how I have said ‘bagel’ my whole life. Then I would have to pronounce other words I say weirdly. Everyone would be talking to me, asking to say different words. Each word I said, more people would come up to listen, staring at my mouth watching words come out, but hearing it differently then them. It was almost if everyday someone would come up to me with a different word to say. All ears open to just hear it be said wrong.
In James Baldwin’s essay, “If Black English Isn’t a Language, Then Tell me, What is?” he says, “It goes without saying, then, that language is also a political instrument, means, and proof of power. It is the most vivid and crucial key to identify: It reveals the private identity, and connects one with, or divorces one from, the larger, public, or communal identity.” Speaking the way I speak and pronouncing words differently then others can put me in a disadvantage or an advantage depending on how people look at it. I may be able to have power with the way I speak because people may listen to me since I sound different. It can also be a disadvantage because I say words differently people may judge and not want to listen. In some circumstances language can give me power. It depends on how people identify me based on the way I speak. Just because I talk loudly doesn’t mean people are going to listen.
With the way I talk and pronounce different words, it can cause conflict anywhere. This can mean when I am in public, people may not understand what I am trying to say. James Baldwin mentions in “If Black English Isn’t a Language, Then Tell me, What is?” how conflict can and does occur. “A Frenchman living in Paris speaks a subtly and crucially different language from that of the man living Marseilles; neither sounds very much like a man living in Quebec; and they would all have great difficulty in apprehending what the a man from Guadeloupe, or Martinique, is saying, to say nothing of the man from Senegal although the “common” language of all these areas is French.” Every time I try to pronounce different words to other people who speak English still have to ask me what I mean because of how I say words. These are the things that cause conflict because of misunderstanding but in the same language.
Language can describe a lot about a person. People can hear me say one sentence and judge how I speak. Not getting to know me, or even waiting to hear another sentence with words I pronounce “correctly”. How I say one word someone else may say it totally different only a few miles away. It can sometimes show the location of where one lives or is from. As I traveled the United States this summer on a teen tour it really showed that I was well represented from where I was from. There were the stereotypical accents from the south and I was not the only one that pronounced words differently. It showed me that everyone in the world has their own way of speaking. I learned it is unique and no one should be ashamed of his or her accent or how they pronounce certain words. I now don’t mind when people ask me over, and over again how I pronounce certain words.
The places I went to and the experiences I had this summer changed my outlook on language. The forty-four people I spent six and half weeks with on a coach bus from all over the United States were the ones that picked at the way I spoke the most. We all realized that we each said something weird or different because of where we were from. It was kind of likes learning our own foreign language. It was a mixed language of how we all talk that was unique and special to only us. In the beginning weeks conflict occurred with mixes of accents and pronunciation but later on we go used to it. I did not have to listen and judge how other people spoke because I and the other forty-four teenagers on my bus all realized we had our own identification. I was happy to see where my language fit in, in the world.