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Mi refran:
"Amor es en mi corazon"

• What is your refrán supposed to communicate? 
  Queiro enseñar el centro de la cancion.
• What are you especially happy about with your first draft?
  Yo emocionado sobre que significar para me.
• What would you like to improve about your refrán first draft?
  Encontrar las palabras rimas.
• What was difficult about writing your refrán?
  Tomando una linea.
  
  

  Vengo de musica,

  Donde cantando esta de alma

  Y dibujas,

  Todos los fotos hablamos 1000 palabras

   

  El Refran:

  Amor es en mi Corazon

   

  Verse 2:

  Con la familia,

  Y los noches de comida y divertida

  Vengo

   (Verse 2 no es completa)

  
  
  
  

Taylor Ximines

 

                                   

“Wow, That’s Interesting”

“Are you serious?”

“That is really cool!”

“What does that mean?”

These are all things that I have been hearing my whole life – and it’s always about my last name. People are fascinated, confused, or both when they hear or see it. The first thing they ask me is where does it come from and I always say that I don’t know or I’m not sure which both are complete lies. I know where it comes from but the story and history behind it is too long and I’ve said it so many times.

 

            So I guess now you’re wondering where it comes from? Well get ready for a long story! Originally it’s Greek, but eventually it made its way to Eastern Europe (Spain, and Portugal) and that’s where it got its numerous ways to spell it. My grandfather always told me that “no matter how you spell it, we are all related in some way or somehow”. And because of how uncommon it is I just always believed this to be true.

 

Some people say it in the craziest ways I have ever heard! I have heard everything from “ZIM-E-NICE” to “X-E-MIES”. The proper way to say it is “X-ZIM-A-KNEES” OR “ZIM-A-KNEES”. What frustrates me the most about this is the people that don’t even try to sound it out they just give up right away. I had to learn that it’s something that will always happen and I need to grow tolerance for it. This is the biggest lesson I learned from having these experiences.

 

            People find it comical whenever I get upset when people do it. My friends always joke and tell me to chill out. This upsets me because in my opinion a name is all we really have. I mean if you have a name like “John White” or “Mary Jones” you really cannot get where I’m coming from. I mean yes it is only a name, but it’s MY name.

 

            I will never forget this one time where this lady was arguing with me about my last name. She was very upset, she called my name “grammatically incorrect”. She spent about 5 minutes lecturing at me about how it should be spelled differently if I pronounced it x-zim-a-knees or how it should be pronounced differently since it’s spelled Ximines. I just sat there with a grin on my face as she screamed and yelled about it. After she was done I said to her in the sweetest voice possible, “Who died and made you grammar corrector of the year? Oh okay didn’t think so, so please go somewhere and stop disrespecting me”. It might sound like I was being rude but trust me, that woman deserved it.

 

            I also can never forget the time somebody told me that if I am this upset about my name to just change it. I paused for a minute after they said that and simply said “ Oh no way!” A name is much more then just a name. I just can’t wake up one day and change it. My last name has legacy to it. Great people before me have had this name, generations of great Ximines’s. Even when I get married I will keep my last name, to me it has power and history; things I just can’t simply just let go of.

 

            It’s amazing how somebody can see my last name and know everything about my family. I once had a substitute teacher who used to teach with my grandfather Robert Louis Ximines Sr. He was an educator and podiatrist someone who was well known. She sat down and she told me about my grandfather, a man I only knew for 6 years before he passed away. She told me how intelligent and caring he was. That conversation is something that has stuck with me until this day.

 

            My father once told me that “I’m an Ximines, which means that I am great.” I never really got what he was trying to say until now. My last name is way more then just a last name. It’s who I am, where I come from. I come from greatness.

Here is the short tutorial that I covered in Staff Planning on Docking and Zipping

​ 

The sun was still brushing out the mucus from his eyes as it was about to hit half time and the breeze felt so soothing when it hit my hot sweaty skin, the parts that shoulder pads, tight pants and a baggy shirt didn’t cover.

 It was our third game and the first two quarters weren’t going as well as I thought they would. We played like professionals that knew we were going to win. So we didn’t really put in a day after day, going home with ever muscle in our body aching and crying out “Please stop! No more. I can’t take any more”. With legs that wobbled at every step we took, we almost fell when we walked. We smelled like rotten chicken, mixed with rotten milk that settled in the sun for hours.

But we didn’t. So we got our wining plans shoved down our throats because every time we tried to run a play. They would stop us in our tracks with hits that hovered us in the air, and made us glide across the field. We had the taste of defeat and fake grass in our mouths it tasted awful. It almost looked as if they were on a mission to fracture rips, and knock off helmets. Every time we got hit mountains shifted. Once that last whistle was blown, we went home with grass stains on our faces, and with black, and blue bruises on our arms and legs. Some even went home with an arm wrapped in white tape. We had lost that game not only because we misread the other team, but also we all tried to fight for the M.V. P spotlight.

When we had our first game, our hands were sweaty, and we all had fear imprinted onto our eyelids. The funny thing about it was that we didn’t even get on the yellow school bus yet to get to our game. When we had finally got to our game and observed the new environment, we noticed that there weren’t any sunbeams, but we saw black clouds forming all around us. They began to cry tears from their soft and cozy looking eyes. Making it harder to catch the ball and making our hits more aggressive. Sometimes when we smacked against the other teams legs, they would get up and start walking with a limp.

Once we stepped foot onto the fake green grass field we knew that we weren’t going to let all our hard work and efforts at practice go to waste. So every time we did a play, we depended on the person right next to us or even right behind us to watch our backs. We depended on each other. The offensive linemen on my team would hold the defense in place, giving the quarter back a lot of time to rewind his arm and make a gold pass to the wide receivers. The wide receivers would move swiftly and smooth, making their route look as easy for a five-year-old kid could do with no problem. They had smoked who ever was sticking them. Our defense would penetrate through the line as if it was nothing, tackling their quarter back. So hard that every time he got hit he had to catch his breath before he got up. We were unstoppable. We had won that game of course.

The crazy thing was that the team we played in our third game reminded me of how my team was something like them.  For the first time I knew that it wasn’t just me on the field trying to put forth 100% of my effort into wining this game. It was all of us; we had worked like a unit. The deep understanding lesson that I had took away from this experience is that threw out life you can’t only depend on your self to get things done. Its good to have some help as you get through it.

             

 

 

 

      It’s the third day of the biggest baseball tournament I have ever participated in. It’s a hot humid summer day and the sun is blazing on my face. I’m standing in the outfield waiting for my chance to pitch. I’ve been waiting for three days now for my chance to pitch. We are losing badly. The coach’s son has been pitching the entire game and many of the games so far. He has just let up the 11^th run. Maybe it’s time for him to take a break? At least there is a nice view of the beach from where I’m standing in left field. In the past three days during a game, I’ve only touched a ball 3 times. That seems like a bad average, but most of the batters have been walked due to our stellar pitching rotation. I’m tired, thirsty and a little discouraged that I haven’t yet been called to pitch. It was, after all, promised to me when I signed up for this and I believed that it would happen.

     Suddenly, I see my coach call a time out. The only thing going through my head is This could be my break. I try to make out the words going between the coach and his son. I see the coach’s hand slowly rise above his head and he starts to wave me over. Excitement rushes through my veins. I start to jog over to the pitchers mound. I only get to throw five warm-up pitches, but I don’t mind because this is what I have been waiting for. All of that time waiting in the outfield is finally going to pay off. The umpire calls, “Batter Up”

I take a deep breath and throw the first pitch.

“Striiike”

I smiled inside. Second pitch.

“Striiike”

I breathe. Third pitch, the ball connects with the bat, my glove instinctually goes up and the ball is in the glove. 1 out.  I look over and see the coach heading towards me. I automatically think that he wants to tell me I’m doing a good job. Instead I hear the words

“You’re doing fine, but don’t get ahead of yourself”

 Huh? I think, Why are you treating me like this? I don’t get it. Instead, I calmly say

“Ok”

and he walks away.  Second batter comes to the plate. First pitch is fouled off. Strike 1.  The third baseman throws the ball back to me. As soon as I catch the ball I remember there is a runner on second base. I now make it my goal to exterminate him and pick him off.  I set myself and very quickly step off the mound, do a 180 turn to second base and fire it to second. I may be small and I may skinny, but I’m fast. They didn’t expect it, but I did it. The umpire yells,

“OUT”

Whoa, nobody has done THAT in this tournament. The third out is a quick pop up to center field. I walk off the mound to the dug out. I feel good. I feel proud and accomplished.  My teammates acknowledge me. The coach ignores me, but this is common behavior between the two of us.

    Our half of the inning at bat was uneventful. Next half of the inning I start to the mound, but I hear the coach calling me back. Once again my brain says Huh?

“You’re going to left field this inning.” He states.

I’m confused, perplexed, bewildered, and stunned. I go to left field but my heart is no longer in the game.

    I’m trying to think rationally, but only emotions are coming.  I can’t think of any reasons to not put me back in as pitcher. I play and replay the events leading up to and during my inning on the mound. If I pay attention to his actions over the years that I have known him, his behavior is right in line. It’s when I listen to his words that I get confused. A promise is just a bunch of words strewn together, and it only becomes real once it happens. Just because someone promises to do something, doesn’t mean they will do it. Obviously sometimes people favor people closer to them over someone they don’t know well or don’t want to try to get to know. The truth lies in the actions of people.

I heard the glass shatter. I realized that I shouldn’t have done that.

“Are you okay?” my brother, Josh, yelled.

“Ummmm,” I responded.

He then came running into the laundry room. He saw the broken glass of the back door. He looked at me, “What happened?”

“I was mad and slammed the door closed. Then the glass just broke.”

“You know you have to call mom, right?”

“I know. I’ll call her later.” I went upstairs to my room. I was still pissed.

All throughout my childhood I heard, “Think before you act.” I knew that I had to do this and I usually did, unless I was angry. If I was angry there was no stopping me. You couldn’t calm me down. I just had to find an outlet for my anger, and then be left alone. What’s worse is it’s easy to make me angry. So sometimes a little problem would set me off.

It isn’t always anger that makes me not think. One time when I was younger, my brothers and I were playing around. My twin Nick and I were trying to keep my older brother out of our room, I was having fun. My brother found a walking stick and put it in the space between the door and the doorframe. I should have stopped for a moment, to think it was a bad idea to close the door. I was having too much fun to think. So I pushed the door as hard as I could. The door snapped off of the hinges. Out of fear, we decided not to tell my father. He found out anyways and wasn’t too angry.

When I was 14 my brothers took a joke too far. This made me very angry. I walked out of the living room and into my laundry room. I didn’t know what to do, so I slammed my back door closed. The glass shattered. I ran upstairs to my room still very angry. I just had to be alone. Later I went down to clean up the glass. I told my mom later that day. She wasn’t mad; she just wished I had told her right away.

About two years ago I was wrestling with my younger cousins. They are both boys and were 9 and 7. They always liked wrestling with my brothers and me. We were having a lot of fun. I had the eight year old, Stephfon, pinned on the ground in a headlock. He called his brother for help. The older one, Jayfon, came over and hit me with his elbow in my lower back. I apparently have a weak spot in my lower back and it hurt, a lot. I stood up quickly. I didn’t really comprehend what I was doing. I picked him up and dropped him on his side to the ground. The ground was carpeted but it was still hard stone underneath. He screamed. He cried and ran to my grandmother. She asked what happened. I told her I got hurt and lost control. I couldn’t stop myself.

I have been able to stop myself when I’m angry more often lately. While at this summer camp I’ve been volunteering over the summer, we would take the kids to parks. One day we took the 6 through 9 year olds to the same place. They decided that they wanted me to chase some of them. Little by little more and more joined. It got to the point where there was 20-40 of them versus my twin Nick and me. They realized this shortly after I did, so the tables turned. They began chasing us, when they caught me they held my arms. One little girl hit me in my lower back as hard as she could. This made me angry, but instead of getting really mad I just told her to stop hitting me.

It took multiple times of being told “think before you act” before it finally stuck. I still don’t have full control when I’m angry. Most of the time my brother, Josh, holds me back until I shake loose and walk away. I am more understanding when the person I’m angry at is much younger than me. I now understand that even lessons that we learn as young children, aren’t always easy to follow.

In the back of the classroom, silent, not raising my hand, and only talking to someone unless they are talking to me first. I am in 3^rd grade at William Cullen Bryant Elementary School in West Philadelphia. The teacher Ms.Gelfond calls on me, and asks me to answer the question, I give the correct answer. The person next to me asks me a question I just look at them and turn back around. During grades 2^nd to 5^th, I was very shy and quiet, I didn’t have many friends, and I was very intelligent, had awesome grades and I had two best friends who were not in my class. I wanted to fit in, just not with the people who cheat, get into trouble everyday, who does not follow direction correctly and disobey the rules. Then the day came when something that was fun to do but it was not a very good idea.

            Sitting in the back of class reading my book “Judie B Jones: Goes to First Grade” then, 12 o’clock came around and the old fashioned golden bell on top of each door in every classroom rings throughout the whole school. It was time for lunch; I walk down the long narrow hallway, down two flights of stairs, and then into the lunchroom. I sit in between my best friends Niyree and Shaneka. The kids in my class were talking about what they were going to do at recess. Then one child suggested that they play football in the grassy yard behind the school, while the boys were playing, the girls were going to watch them and cheer the players on. This area was perfect for playing around and running, it had about 4 or 5 trees surrounding the perimeter, there were flowers growing in one section of the area. Unfortunately, we were not allowed to go to the back of the school because the lunch aids were not able to watch us behind there. My only two friend Niyree and Shaneka were going to go watch. They tried hard to convince me to go with them, and it worked.

            At the back of the school, the boys started playing football while the girls watch on the sidelines. The girls were talking to each other in a group of about 5-7 people spread out in different sections of the area we were in. Suddenly, the principal and the officer came out of the back door where we were. I was terrified and filled with fear of being caught. I started getting nervous, and my brain was not functioning properly. I knew my legs were moving as I ran, trying to escape to the gate, but I couldn’t feel them. The officer quickly went to block the gate so he could try to catch anybody trying to get back into the schoolyard. Everyone had gotten back into the schoolyard except for me, my friend Niyree, and two other girls. We had to go to the principal’s office, she called our parents and told us if we didn’t tell who else was there with us then we would have detention for a week and she would take away our recess for the rest of the school year. None of the other girls said who else was there except for me. I was the only one who told on the others, after all I didn’t know about the “snitches get stitches” saying and that I shouldn’t tell on my classmates if I want to fit in. So, I didn’t lose my recess but when it was time for recess the other kids did not want to play with me. They wouldn’t even talk to me unless they were calling me names such as, snitch, teller teller, and other names. Niyree and Shaneka didn’t want to be my friends anymore either. Once I came home from school that day my parents had yelled me at. My mom had the “disappointed” face on. She was really upset to have to get a bad phone call from my principal about me disobeying the rules, my dad had the same face on, but his was meaner than my mom’s. He was the one who put me on punishment for a month; he told me I am lucky I told who was there with me because then I would have had a longer punishment.

            That day, I learned to think twice about my actions and if I chose to do wrong then I must suffer the consequences. This was a time in my life when I realized that I have to make decisions for myself. If I didn’t let Niyree and Shaneka convince me to come with them then I would have never got in trouble with my parents and the principal. I also learned who were my true friends that day, which was nobody at that school because if they were then they would have never convinced me to do the wrong thing.

 

Yo vengo de los arboles y el río cafe 
Calles y corazones de piedra del adoquín 

Somos de la luna y el sol 
Pero una vida nueva es que queremos 
Dondé no hay casas almas y rotas 
y las almas no necesitan almas nuevas 
Porqué el sol es una día nueva y la luna es la noche
con las problemas de ayer 
¿Dondé está el paz? (2x) 

​Yo vengo de los arboles y el río cafe 
Calles y corazones de piedra del adoquín 

Hay almas muertas en el río y 
nadie sabe por qué
Hay almas muertas en tú corazón y 
nadie sabe por qué 

Pero, ¿Dondé está ellos ahora? ...

Ellos son en nuestra corazones

Yo vengo de los arboles y el río cafe 
Calles y corazones de piedra del adoquín 

The text of your essay goes here.

Vengo de la familia de Smith.

Un nombe común

Pero con rasgos ünicos.

Vengo de donde los ladrillos son ponían

Alto suficiente a cubrian.

Yo nací en fila, donde las calles son de oro

Todo el mundo es agradable y abro

Tiendas en cade esquina

Al oeste de fila allí para aina

My refrain talks about where I come from and how where I come I describe in detail on why I like it and my favorite parts of my neighborhood. 

Refrán:
Mi gusta recordarme de que me hace feliz

What is your refrán supposed to communicate? 

De cosas me gusta mucho.

What are you especially happy about with your first draft?
Yo escribe correcto 

What would you like to improve about your refrán first draft?

Nada seguro 

What was difficult about writing your refrán?

Yo no sabia cómo empezar

Share the first version of your refrán.

What is your refrán supposed to communicate?

What are you especially happy about with your first draft?

What would you like to improve about your refrán first draft?

What was difficult about writing your refrán?

Nosotros Africáno, más fuerte!

Nosotros Africáno,más fuerte!

Nosotros Africáno, Vamoso!

Africaaaaaaaaaa Nosotros Donte. Awooo!

Nosotros Africáno, ¿yo no oyes tu?

Nosotros Africáno, más fuerte!

Nosotros Africáno,más fuerte!

Nosotrosl Africáno, Vamoso!

Family in SLA, Philly and my boring neighborhood. 
I have my friends by my side
I am them, they are me

1. The refrán has to tense, but the song is in past tense.

Refrán:
Yo vivo en el silencio
Pero hablan
La cuidad hablan

It supposed to show the sounds of the city.
The three lines seem to flow, kind of like poetry.
Adding some more lines could help.
Creating it was easy.

​Soy de Puerto Rico pero naci aqui en Filadelfia. Lo que es un influencia de Puerto Rico es la comida y la musica. De donde vengo, todo es de respeto. Trata una persona con respeto y ello te respecta a usted. Pero, una falta de respecto y los hentes van reir de ti y ignorara ti.  

My refrain is suppose to communicate that Ricardito is from Puerto Rico also that he is ready to talk about where he comes from and how it’s like. 

Im kinda happy that I got to talk about the main thing that is Puerto rican.

 I would like to improve my details and the length that it is.

What was really hard was coming up what to write or what to mention.  

Estamos de dos uno cinco

Y dinero 

que vivimos, la respiración, y comer philly

porque esta es nuestra ciudad



- My refrain is supposed to communicate that I am from Philadelphia
- I am happy that I was able to come up with a good refrain 
- I would like to improve the fact that the whole thing is not about philly 
- what was difficult was trying to rhyme it 

Cyndi Lynn Sheridan

Español 3 – D

El 21 de Septiembre

 

La ciudad del amor fraternal,

Una lugar único y orignal.

Grande esperanzas pero suenos rotos,
Todos carreteras ignotos.

Yo llamo a este casa.

 

o   What is your refrán supposed to communicate?

My refrán is supposed to communicate that the city we live in is filled with a diverse group of people but all share one thing, challenges.

 

o   What are you especially happy about with your first draft?

Catherine and I are really happy with the quality of words we have because they are very descriptive and tell a story with a true meaning.

 

o   What would you like to improve about your refrán first draft?

I really wanted the refrán to be longer, but I am satisfied with how everything worked out.

 

o   What was difficult about writing your refrán? 

It was extremely difficult creating a phrase that rhymed with the previous one. Also, this was hard because we only had a set selection of words that did rhyme and made sense to what we were trying to portray.