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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.

Hopefully

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 Experiment

            “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.

“Yo, Sarena”

“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.

 “Hello.”

*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.

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.  

“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

“What?”

“Uhh?”

“Wait, what?”

“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. 

Editado : Andora Myftaraj, Callie Monroe, Gina Dukes, Nia Hammound

Mi nombre es Samuel Lovett-Perkins y soy muralista en Mt. Airy. El nombre de mi mural es “ Uña y Carne con el Parque”. La construcción está ubicada en 265 oeste Mount Pleasant Ave. Filadelfia PA USA. El mural representa la importancia de parques en la historia y cultura de mi barrio. Ese foco con el parque de la Wissahickon. El parque estaba en Mt. Airy para muchos anos y tiene un río en el medio. Muchas personas caminan en los senderos y ven los árboles, el río y el medio ambiente. El parque tiene historia, las casas de la era de colonial. Por los pedestres ese tiene una restaurante y pueden montar a caballo. La zona tiene mucha historia y la diversión con la simplicidad del medio ambiente.

        Mi mural represente el barrio de Mt. Airy con los imágenes. Mi personalidades favoritos son las mariposas y el libro. Los dos simbolizan cómo muchos personas leen en los bancos cerca del río, y como los libros pueden vivir en tu cabeza. Además ese tiene una conexión de el tema totalmente, media ambiente. El otro imagen izquierda de el libro, es un perro. Muchas personas usan los senderos y caminan sus peros. Es importante que los animales y la personas reciben ejercicio. El abono en el rincón a la izquierda represente las personas, en la comunidad muchas personas aprecian el mundo y usa abono y no desperdicio comida. Finalmente la mesa representa el restaurante en el parque se llama Valle Verde Teberna. El mural tiene muchos aspectos natural  por ejemplo los animales y madera. Ese represente la comunidad porque muchas personas creen que el medio ambiente es muy importante. Una residente de Mt. Airy Alexa Dunn dice (traducir de español) “Yo vivio en Mt. Airy todo mi vida. Yo tuvo una conexión con el parque de Wissahickon. Durantes los fines de semanas yo corrió y ando en bicicleta en el parque”. Por lo tanto los colores represente el medio ambiente con las plantas verdes y marrónes. El mensaje que quiero empoderar, las personas salen ellos casas y aparté con la televisión. Entonces las personas recuerden sobre todos los opciones natural en sus zona.

El arte público tiene mucha importancia en una comunidad. El arte representa las ideas de la comunidad y la historia de la zona. El mundo tiene mucha tipos diferentes de arte publico. Los ejemplos incluyen vandalismo y murales. Para mi el vandalismo representa el arte de un individual, similar con una marca. Los murales representa la comunidad, los mejor murales fueron creados por la comunidad para la comunidad. El papel de un mural es contar la historia del barrio o las personas viviendo ahí. Mi mural satisface el papel. Se depictar las personas viejas con las casas de piedra y las personas ahora con los animales y el abono. El mural es una perfecta represente de Mt. Airy. Para mi, me gusta porque representa como yo veo mi barrio y ese tuvo muchas memorias cuando era niño.

            Mi mural, "En tus manos", revela muchas cosas sobre la comunidad Sur Oeste como las culturas y los valores. Las temas de mi mural son esperanza, éxito, y valores positivos. La mural es diseñada con una niño joven que es moreno, y su brazos son muy abierta y en su mano es un mundo grande con fotos que simbolizar un mejor futuro con éxito, felicidad, y buenas cosas en la futura. También la mural tiene imágenes con personas de otros razas que Negro, porque Sur Oeste es un comunidad con una mezcla de rases juntos. Yo hecho el fondo con los colores azul y amarillo porque yo querría a mural estar vibrante y inspirar y empoderar otras. El significativo para mi mural es que el represente los jóvenes con el futuro en sus manos porque ellos son los líderes de mañana. Pienso es un bueno mensaje para el mural, porque el mural esta en la escuela de Bartram donde muchos personas no completan la escuela o obtienen éxito. Yo querría comunica a los jóvenes en Bartram que ellos tienen algo esperar para.

            Para mi, lo más importante papel de arte publico es a educar la comunidad, juntar un comunidad, y hacer la comunidad muy bonita. Desde mi punto de vista, mi arte completo la papel de arte publico porque mi mural educa los jóvenes sobre un futuro mejor, juntar la comunidad por juntar los jóvenes y hace la comunidad muy bonita porque la mural hace la escuela mejor. Así lo veo, arte es algo que es un expresión de tus sentimientos con creatividad y mi arte tiene los características. Entonces mi mural esta arte. Me gusta mi mural mucho y yo esperar por un mural nueva como mi mural en mi comunidad, especialmente para las jóvenes en escuela porque arte tiene el poder a cambiar la comunidad.

 Mi Mural