Hello my name is Amani Bey and I decided to create https://feministsofsla.weebly.com/ . It is a blog for showcasing and discussing feminists and political issues in the SLA community. 2014 was a journey for me. Having to assert myself through college applications and the political climate of both school and the internet gave me a clear voice and helped me understand who I was. I realized that there was no platform to say what I needed to say and celebrate the amazing work that young feminists do inside and out of the SLA community. Over the course of second semester, I have researched and written about topics that interested me, most of which concerned race and gender, as well as interviewed students in my community. The blog contains art and writings from both myself and the student body. It is dedicated to creating awareness and I hope it lives on after I leave the SLA community.
1 lb. of red split lentils
half an onion
- Brown onions and zucchini in a pot with vegetable oil
- Add pepper liberally
- Put in half a can of chicken broth
- Bring to a rolling boil
- throw them lentils in
- In separate pot Combine 1/2 can of coconut milk, butternut squash paste, a dash of tomato paste and cumin, add pepper and cayenne to taste
- Put the coconut mixture in the lentils once the broth in the lentils evaporate.
- Let the lentils cook down until they become paste-like.
- Chop and add spinach.
- Add more cumin and pepper to taste.
This meal is considerably very whole. Lentils are unprocessed, as are the vegetables within. I went to the Reading Terminal for the produce and when Iovine has organic produce from independent farmers for reasonable prices. Dollar bags of vegetables are accessible in the middle of the city. 1 cup of lentils contains 20% of the daily value of Potassium, 13% of DV carbs, 64% of fiber. The fiber in lentils is insoluble, meaning that it can not go ingot he blood stream but it is great for the bowels and colon health. It scrubs everything out. Cumin, which is a big spice in this dish, is great for digestion and fighting off infections. Its aroma has capabilities as well. The chicken and lentils both contain large amounts of protein which is broken down in the intestines and absorbed through amino acids and used for cellular structures. It's great for muscles. Lentils also increase oxygen flow, which is great for everything.
Coconut milk is a processed food, but many distributors have standards as to how its harvested. I admire the coconut because its harvesting involves the entire fruit (it's actually a one seeded drupe). The flesh and liquid within are consumed, the shell is squeezed and pressed for oil, and the husks are used for building structures. In Pacific cultures, the coconut tree has been called the "tree of life". This reminds me of the chapter from "Survival of the Sickest" about Lima beans , because it is good for but can also kill you if you're not careful. Coconut milk contains chains of saturated fats that are actually good for you, they're called MCFAs and they're absorbed and used for energy by the liver, but too much is not good for you. Both lentils and coconuts should be used in moderation.
The coconut milk I had came from the Philippines and was processed and packaged in the United States. The Philippines are over 3,000 miles away, yet the can I got from my corner store was only $1.29. Coconuts are what Americans consider "foreign", yet unlike other culinary oddities they are not very expensive, like that of french truffles, or South American peppers.
One of the greatest lessons I've learned from this unit is that you should know your body and how it works. Due to different cultural and socioeconomic backgrounds we eat differently and have different reactions to certain things. The study with aboriginal peoples showed that certain groups of people are better adapted for a certain amount of living. I think the Western Diet is trash because the "West" has not existed for thousands of years, so people have not had time to evolve to be better adapted to the "sweets and meats" it entails. One size fits all diet and lifestyles don't fit. We concluded BMI does not work in class (I am 5 feet tall and according to BMI, I am 40 lbs overweight, but I am healthy as a horse). Treat your pancreas well so that you can last in life.
The food system is flawed because access to good food is hard. Impoverished people are more at risk for being obese. In order to fix this problem, many of the whole foods are too expensive. The FDA allows many things to let fly . I am cutting back on sugar and increasing my water intake. The relationship between my liver and pancreas is important and I need to respect it by not putting crap in my body. I feel the difference when my blood sugar is low. I go a little cray.
After cutting back on my sugars and drinking water, I noticed a terrible change in my mood, so I have been working on incorporating fruit into my diet.
Short stories are the souffles of literary work; quick and short, rush and it will flatten, leave too long, it will burn. Sherman Alexie is truly a chef who has mastered the art of creating characters that we meet for about a half of an hour, yet are able to savor for a lifetime.
Alexie, a Native American who grew up on a reservation, is an author renowned for his writing skills just as much as for his controversial and personal topics. The Native American writer is so rare, his perspective, a crucial part in the making of American identity, is renowned in the literary community, as well as the world. Racial and cultural notability aside, Alexie’s writing has earned him more than 15 awards. He has written and directed 4 movies included in the Sundance movie festival.
Through his “War Dances”, a series of short stories and poems, Alexie not only questions what it means to be Native American in the America, but what it means to be a person, anywhere. Son of an alcoholic father and a victim of seizures and bullying, Alexie gives us this piece, “War Dances”, that melds lines between fiction and bone-chilling autobiographical facts and moments. Through snarkiness, laughs and an occasional session of somberness, Alexie allows the reader to fully his word for word, masterpiece.
These stories, some told in first person, others in the third, are like dreams. You can’t really tell how long you’ve known the character once you’ve flipped the first page .You don’t remember when you started, but you know exactly where you are. Alexie’s short stories have their readers afraid to turn the page, for fear a connection with the character would be over, like a friend you met during a week-long vacation.
There is something relatable in every character. I, an African American girl felt akin to the Native American man who killed a black teen. Alexie doesn’t just convey the pain of the main character. In every story, he shows how the entire world around them begins to crumble, and at times with a hilarious prose.
Alexie’s satire is not overt. Every sentence does not blame America for the Native American people’s condition. When he chooses to address the situation (in about 3 stories), there is a subtlety that challenges the reader as a person to criticize the character, as well as themselves. Any reader who enjoys a book that does not answer questions, but rebirths age-old ones and challenges the world around them, as well as their universal truths, should pick up “War Dances”.
“People are naive and so self righteous, they don’t realize people think differently than them”- Excerpt from my Choice Reading Worksheet.
Throughout the 2012-2013 school year students in Joshua Block’s English and History classes have studied many eras, events, and styles of writing. Normally history is either glorified on one side and made out to look like monsters, or the story may be told with the tunnel vision of facts, not allowing either side much justification.Throughout many projects and activities Mr. Block’s courses have given face and reason to many historical events, current and ancient. We were taught to see the world through many perspectives.
As a warm up Journal, Mr. Block had us interpret a picture. The picture represents the world’s view on justice based on where they stand, based on their perspective. After our Revolution unit, while reading Night by Elie Wiesel, the class read an article about a boy who was punished for not saying the Pledge of Allegiance. This article stood out because we were studying how countries were overthrowing the tyranny that reigned. This brings up perspective once more because it is easy to tell your neighbor he needs a fence, not noticing that yours is falling apart. It is important to realize, as the article pointed out, that this was an American boy who refused to say the Pledge. He did not hail from another land, America was the only life he’d ever known. It is easy to become unconcious of things we take for granted. We must never exhaust the option of analyzing everything, no matter how familiar it may seem.
In December, while reading Zora Neale Hurston’s Their Eyes were Watching God , the class was also studying lenses. Lenses are a type of perspective that a reader may take on, based on what’s important or relevant to them. this project yielded an artistic representation of a quote from the book. It was studied through the perspective of a Marxist and a feminist. I found it amazing the justice and injustice that can be found in words or ideas based on the person’s focus that reads them.
The first piece was an artistic rendition of the quote in which Nanny states “Honey, de white man is de ruler of everything as fur as Ah been able tuh find out...So de white man throw down de load and tell de nigger man tuh pick it up. He pick it up because he have to, but he don’t tote it. He hand it to his womenfolks. De nigger woman is de mule ud de world so fur as Ah can see.”The mule is Janie and in this piece she has a pyramid disproportionately large on her back as a symbol of the hierarchy one would see when looking through the Fem-Marxist Lens.
The trials during history class were by far one of the most rewarding and effective activities in perspective. Groups were chosen to defend their group with research and wit. My group was the fleet of conquistadors that came over with Hernando Cortez. These men were charged with and undeniably guilty of the the murder of thousands of native peoples in South and Central America. Here is the closing statement that I wrote below in defense of their actions. It is easy to paint people as malicious when given their actions in black and white, especially when there is undeniable guilt. However, the job of defense attorneys is to change the perspective of the jury into one which is beneficial for the defendant.We accept and regret our sins, but are we truly at fault?
Throughout January, we focused on Neila Larsen’s Passing. This was a story that followed the life of two women in the late 1920s. One passed for white in her everyday life, and one only did it when it suited her. We were presented with two entirely different characters, with different morals and goals, and as readers we found ourselves more akin to one of the characters rather than the other. The book ends has an ambiguous ending. How you saw the end truly depended on the how you saw the characters throughout the book. The link below shows an assignment the class was given upon finishing the book. In groups, students were asked to perform scenes from the book adding their own flair. My team had the ambiguous ending, so we devised 3 scenes, each of which could’ve happened, because the writer made the ending so vague. Many areas in history and stories in everyday life are vague and we are left to our own devices to understand why or how.
In the very beginning of the year, William Golding’s Lord of the Flies, led to a project in which we were charged with making ads for the best leader for the island. The class was allowed to lobby and campaign for who we believed would rule the best. It was very interesting to see the different ways the class approached this project. While there were only 3 candidates, there was an array of tactics students used. Here is my video Campaign ad.
Towards the beginning of the year, we were asked to write a letter to someone that is/has been in our lives. This project was using the hindsight perspective. One had to reflect on an experience that happened in the past, with the new perspective of stories we’d read in class. It showed how reading something or learning something new could change your feelings toward a certain experience and experiences to come. We should accept our faults for what we see them, not for what someone decides to lacquer onto our personalities. This letter helped me realize that while seeing all sides of the story is necessary, it is also necessary to follow yourself.
Adults have been conditioned their entire live to believe a cetain set of truths. Evryday those children say the Pledge and then they learn. They drone out the Pledge until they are unconscious of the words and their meanings. Schools teach subjects separately and there are different units. They are not taught to look at the world as an interconnected place.
- Indoctrination: teaching of the se of beliefs that are not questioned.
Pedro Bey, Pilar Shurelds, Diego O'Donovan y Andrea Collins
Yo pensaba tú vas a ser mejor
Entonces voy a dejar
Va a ser un verano frío ....
Voy a hacer cosas mejor
Dame un chance más
Vamos a ser mejor
No te vayas
otra vez no
yo estoy finito
voy a esperar meses
No tienes chances más
Te dí demasiadas chances
Tengo que ir a mi propio camino
¿Por que tienes que ir?
otra vez no
yo estoy finito
Voy a esperar meses
Todos los días, discutíamos
No puedo sufrir la dolor nunca más
Esta fractura de mi corazón
Podemos resolver nuestras problemas
Yo soy nada sin tu amor
Necesito estar en tu corazón
otra vez no
yo estoy finito
Voy a esperar meses
Chica: Somos terminado
Chico: No necesita a ser
Chica: No puedo quedarme
Chico: Si, tú puedes
Chica: Me perdiste
Chico: Yo quiero tener te
"The problem of education, then, among Negroes must first of all deal with the Talented Tenth; it is the problem of developing the Best of this race that they may guide the Mass away from the contamination and death of the Worst, in their own and other races."
“Open your books class. 'Their Eyes were Watching God' is a compelling story about identity. Now I must warn you, this book has a strong rural south dialect. Soon enough, you'll catch onto it.”I stared at the cover of the book, took a deep breath and opened it. “Ships at a distance have every man's wish on board. For some they come in with the tide. For others they sail forever on the same horizon, never out of sight, never landing until the Watcher turns his eyes away in resignation, his dreams mocked to death by Time.” This is why Zora Neale Hurston was so revered, this is why her name is always mentioned with the greats of the Harlem Renaissance, I thought. A sense of pride and reverence swelled in my chest.
“Who can tell me what they think this means?”
My hand shot up immediately, I knew what it meant, I appreciated what it meant and how it was said. After a discussion, we moved onto the next page in which we met the characters:
“Where all dat money her husband took and died and left her? – What dat ole forty year ole ‘oman doin’ wid her hair swingin’ down her back lak some young gal? – Where she left dat young lad of a boy she went off here wid?“
I cringed at the characters' words. The stacks of books, papers, and journals I’d written and read weighed down the top of my head as I sunk into my seat.These words were exactly the stereotype I'd been taught my entire life to fight. I remembered my mother and my grandmother's constant corrections, “It's 'well', not 'good'. It's 'have' not 'got'. I was habitually reminded it was not good enough to be satisfactory like everyone else; because I was black and a female, I had to be better than everyone else to get an equal shot. I was and am expected to be more than a statistic and a big part of that for the adults in my life was and is my speech.
People are judged on two things upon introduction: How they look and how they speak, in that order. I was so concerned on breaking the stereotype of the lack of education and perceived absence of intelligence in blacks, that I'd never imagined what I learned could be a miseducation. Why would I desire to sound like the system that told me I wasn’t good enough everyday. I'd rather be told that I sounded 'white' and ostracized by my black peers than to “stoop to their level”. It wasn't until I read an essay by James Baldwin (who'd long been one of my favorite authors), that I could understand how someone could look down on me for sounding like I'd read a book before.
“A child cannot be taught by anyone whose demand, essentially, is that the child repudiate his experience, and all that gives him sustenance, and enter a limbo in which he will no longer be black, and in which he knows that he can never become white.”
As a “pro black”, with my natural hair and my disposition to favor black culture. Black language was never something I appreciated, it was something I despised. Speaking any dialect besides Standard English reflected to society, an ignorance and lack of education. I was the one who’d always pushed the envelope of society's expectations and limits, but I would never touch the lingual aspect. It'd never even occurred to me that the way I spoke could be as much as a rebellion, as the things I spoke about.
“You’re so well spoken”, people would always say. I’ve faked out more many meetings and presentations with my ability to “sound intelligent”, than I am proud to say. I never felt English oppressed me, but it did rule my life, it became my calling card. Not my philosophical thinking, not my personality and not my talents, but my ability to open my mouth and sound like everyone else. I now realize the people and their experience I'd looked down upon countless times, were rebelling consciously or unconsciously. They were fighting to hold onto one of the only things that allowed them to be who they were, regardless of the media's bombardment of people who didn’t look, think, speak or live like they did. It is sad their refusal to conform will cost them many opportunities in life.
With the right words, anything is possible. Words helped Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., Adolf Hitler, Malcolm and Gandhiji. Language is used as leverage in a competitive world. However, with any lever, there is something that is held high, and there is something that is weighed and made low. It is our burden to lift the heavy from our tongues and prosper.
Unfortunately, regardless of the culture you hold dear and how they speak, in America, the use of “proper” English is a must to get ahead.
Baldwin, James. "If Black English Isn't a Language, Then Tell Me What Is."New York Times. (July 29, 1979): <http://www.nytimes.com/books/98/03/29/specials/baldwin-english.html>.
hooks, bell. Hooks on the Language of Power. New Learning. Web. 11 Jan 2013. <http://newlearningonline.com/literacies/chapter-6-critical-literacies/hooks-on-the-language-of-power/>.
Hurston, Zora Neale. Their Eyes Were Watching God. New York: J.B. Lippincott, 1937. Print.
Our first investigation in World History class was a current issue – The Keystone XL Pipeline. If built, this pipeline will stretch from Canada , through America's heartland, all the way to Texas. There are many different views from which people support or oppose the building of this pipeline. My class was given the task of showing these different views through monologues.
My three monologues are a fish, a middle school child,and a drill.The fish and the boy are against the Pipeline, but for two entirely different reasons(the fish is worried about the environment, and the boy is worried about the people that will be displaced). The drill is for the economic appeal of the pipeline.They all show different opinions about the pipeline and I tried to bring their characters to life; they have personalities and personal trials.
Hey you! Yeah you,
hard feelings eh?
I know I just roughed you up and chained you to this pipe here,
but think about it this way,
you are going towards a greater good,
I've been out of work for a while, my hand and I
its been a minute since this old bit has whirled, with all of the layoffs and whatnot
my hand's company moved a lot of their jobs to China,
now some 13 year old kid is doing a grown man's job
at least you have stability,
this is one of the only times its okay to be screwed over ,
at least you have stability,
I'm stuck here,
waiting at the mercy of my hand's country's regime
this O'canner guy
Okay, if you say so
well, at least I have some work done, we've started the southern part of this pipeline, so the humans must know something that I don’t,
I mean, why would they start something they may not be able to finish!
laughs nervously, then goes to a more reserved tone of voice
My hand, he always tells me about his three little girls,
Mary, Margaret and Marlene,
He has children, and they don't just need oil or a battery charge like me and you,
and to think of the nerve of the Texans that are uniting against this project, his fellow Texans,
are trying to keep him and 20,000 other hardworking Americans away from an honest paycheck
and away from the tools of their trade,
I mean would you say no?
you would love to see me rust, wouldn't you??
sit here and watch my drill dull
and my metal mode,
calms himself, though you can still hear anger in his voice
Okay, its not you, I’m sorry,
but I, me and my hand and I really need this job.
“War Between Worlds”
Walking home, the air is crisp. Luke looks at the surrounding white around him. Speaking to no one. One of his classmates has just left.
Bye Tommy, see you after the New Year!
“Bye Luke!”, they all say
“Bye Luke, have a good holiday break.”
They don't know that there are no holidays in my house and that no one calls me Luke at home,
Bye Luke, Please
Arrluk, Arrluk, come here. Get ready, we are going to the reserve to see your grandparents
I can't wait until they're all moved off their land.
Wait, that was terrible to say,
You know something funny
We were learning about the proposed Keystone XL Pipeline and how some people would lose their homes, some indigenous people
And no one asked me how i felt
how all of this affected me
to them I'm just Luke
to myself I'm just Luke
Arrluk is the one who wouldn’t care Americans are calling the oil theirs, but he would care that his ancestors may be out of a home,
Arrluk would care if the precious environment of the Tar Sands was uprooted, leaving waste and destruction in it's path
I mean Luke does despise the American politicians, never looking out for their people and now coming to Canada to wreak havoc.
gets hostel, stops walking, stands still, in the cold, shivering
Are there not enough Native Americans in their country left to oppress, now its the Inuits' turn?
But wait, who cares about that? Luke? Arrluk?
Why isn't the Government/company working on alternative energy instead of wasting 7 billion dollars on something we already have?
When using all of the Tar Sands, almost 12 parts per million of carbon in the atmosphere will be added,
Whatever happened to the 305 initiative?
Whatever happened to Arrluk, I mean,
See video for "War Between Worlds" below
Swims ahead, furiously, clearly distraught
I don’t believe it,
I mean those plastic soda thingies should've shown me that these people are capable of anything
but not this,
anything but this,
My precious water,
They’re planning to use it to refine this,
this so called tar sands,
Oil is the main cause of problems for us fish,
my cousins Bait and Tackle told me about that oil spill in the Gulf by BP,
in a country voice
Cuzzin’ Bubbles, oil is a dangerous thang, try to stay away from it, you're lucky you don't live where oil is.
regular distressed voice, agitated,
And I had the nerve to assume myself safe just because I live in one of the Sandhills’ lakes
But they want to run this pipeline through the aquifer,
The aquifer that waters all the crops and feeds all of the bodies of water,
Begins to smack at the water furiously with his fins
You’ll be ruined,
and they want to waste even more water on these toxic waste lakes,
My home will be a toxic waste lake if they have their way,
or maybe I’ll be lucky and die a fast death,they’ll drain the lake to use,
it takes MORE of my precious water, to actually make this stuff,
I mean, who even heard of tar sands,and thought oil?
The first words out of the others’ mouths was “Don’t try to fight it, you won’t win”
You know what, I’m gonna’ die trying, because I’m going to die either way!
- The oil will be shipped 1700 miles from Canada to refineries in Texas.
- Building this will cost 7 billion dollars
- 800 thousands barrels of oil a day will be produced
Tar Sands Pipeline Plan Renews Energy vs. Environment Debate. 2011. Film. 1 Oct 2012. <http://video.pbs.org/video/2110582932>
- Tar sands oil extraction and production emits three times more carbon dioxide than average from production of conventional oil consumed in the United States.
- Extracting the fossil fuels in tar sands from the sand, silt, and clay requires enormous amounts of water.
- "fully exploiting the Canadian Tar Sands would lead to an increase in Carbon Dioxide of between 9 & 12 parts per million,"
- Named after a Northern Plains tribe, the Ogallala provides water to farms in eight states, accounting for a quarter of the nation’s cropland, as well as municipal drinking wells.If the pipeline should spring a leak where it touches the aquifer or even above it, Kleeb and other opponents say, oil could quickly seep into and through the porous, sandy soil.
Mufson, Steven. "Keystone XL pipeline may threaten aquifer that irrigates much of the central U.S.."Washington Post 06 008 2012, n. pag. Web. 16 Oct. 2012. <http://www.washingtonpost.com/national/health-science/keystone-xl-pipeline-may-threaten-aquifer-that-irrigates-much-of-the-central-us/2012/08/06/7bf0215c-d4db-11e1-a9e3-c5249ea531ca_story.html>.
The creaking steps whined under the weight of my uncertainty. My shallow breath squeezed in between the beating of my pounding heart. The ambient lighting of the stage did nothing to calm me. My stomach was shivering as I burned alive under a hundred eyes.
“You better go girl!”
“You got it Poet!”
“I like that skirt child!”, I looked down at my tie-dyed turquoise peasant skirt and I smiled. There was a folded parchment of paper with my poem on it. I looked into the audience and saw Rasheem's teeth, in the back row, big and glorious, smiling at me.
I didn’t think the words were good enough to let everyone hear them. I had the type of fearlessness that stayed inside closed doors. My tenacity was as ruthless as Old Lady Muriel's chihuahua— Yapping at everyone through the glass window, but hiding under the couch when company dared to make its way into the house.
This is it, this is your chance to show something the world something, don’t mess it up.
But I don’t even like this poem.
What if they don’t like it? What if they don’t understand it?
Its too late now,
The mic hiccuped as I lowered the stand to meet my 5 foot stature. I was stiff, but here was nothing, I was letting go.
“I can't say that sometimes....”
These were my words, I let them out into the world.
I remember learning about a girl in matter of seconds based on words that weren't hers. I was waiting for a lecture to start, so I opened my computer and went to my favorite website.
After a couple of clicks, I heard, “You have a Tumblr?”. I looked behind me to where the voice was coming from and was greeted by a smile.
32 brilliant,white teeth,were accompanied by frantic and hungry eyes. “You should follow me.”
“What’s your name?”
“Zip zip hooray.”
With a couple of clicks, I entered her world. Pictures of relationships, people wearing tank tops lined with crazy prints, cartoons, gifs, and quotes. Everything in her blog, including the layout ,spoke for what she liked or was fascinated by.
Then and there, I realized that Tumblr is an I.D. of who you are, or rather who want to be. There is something magical about it. Even when words and thoughts aren’t your own, they say so much about you. So what happens when they're your own?
Every tap-tap around me gnawed at my insides, the pitter-pattering of 32 sets of fingers on keyboards drove me crazy, this topic was too broad. My water bottle broke the monotonous daze with a loud crack as I nervously sipped. My thoughts were as dry as my throat.
The cursor on the screen was the only eye on me. Everyone else was too intent on their work to care what anyone else was doing. They were bent over, eyes focused, backs hunched as if they were unloading the heavy words from their backs onto their fingers.
My mind was blank. Okay, it was swarming with ideas, but none of them were good enough. They whizzed by as if on a conveyor belt. My brain picked through every detail of every topic, always finding something wrong with the thesis; nothing was good enough. They were all either too generic, too obvious, or too personal. My hands remained dormant on my keyboard, waiting for a command.
I stared at the closed window blinds and rested my head on the clammy wooden desk. My heart pounded along with the click clacking of the ideas flowing around me. I looked up and the poster-plastered walls showed no sympathy. The warm air in the room wrapped around my shoulders, urging me to give up and doze off for the remainder of class.
“Five more minutes for writing”, his voice tinged with expectation called out and retrieved me from my stupor.
Why was I trying so hard to reach inside of myself? It was only an English paper that my class would see. Not a poem on the stage, not a song to sing. There was hardly any room for judgement, but I sat there, racking my brain for something I cared about. This was my piece and it wasn’t that I cared what anyone thought of me, I just wanted them to have an accurate reference of which to base their judgements. I was a good good enough writer to churn out what this man was asking for in a day. It would be quality work, but it wouldn’t have been a clear representation of me.
The self-scrutinization of my work is partly because I'm OCD, but we live in a society where it isn't hard to guess what will happen next. I've always felt the pressure to push myself in writing because my words, even when I do not necessarily care where they end up, need to be my best. I want them to stand out and mean something to me because there's no need to
I always want to be ahead of the curb and make everything my own. We live in a population where with the click of a button, we can judge one another's deepest or shallow thoughts. Make what you say count.
Enthony quiere un carro de Volkswagon por él solamente ,y un carro de la familia. Una camioneta tiene sentido. El garaje puede contener tres carros. La casa no tiene un jardín porque la esposa de Enthony es alérgico de las flores. Ella va a ir rojo.
La sala en la casa de Enthony es muy grande. Necesitan el espacio. Tiene una tele gigante, Tres sofás , dos mesas por lámparas y 8 ventanas porque le gusta aire libre. Actividades la familia pueden hacer en la sala son :ver la tele, dormir, relajar, leer, jugar juegos de mesa y video juegos.
Enthony le gusta dibujar, por lo tanto, va a tener un estudio en el ático. Es su trabajo. Ninguno de niños van a molestar él cuando él es en su estudio. Hay un escritorio con mucho papel y marcadors. Hay pinturas. Y LADY GAGA!!!!! También el estudio va a tener paredes calldo por eso que Enthony puede escuchar para Lady Gaga muy ruidoso.
Los cuartos en la casa perfecta de Enthony son medianos y limpios. La casa va a tener ocho habitaciónes. Cada cuarto va a Tener dos ventanas porque le gusta luce en espacio abierto. Cada niño va a tener un escritorio con una computadora por escuela. Va a tener una cama y una lampara, y una guardarropa con espacio por libros.
Ninguno de los niños pueden tener una mascota.. ¡Enthony odia animales!
Cada persona va a tener su propio baño. Los baños de las niñas son rosa con una ducha, un espejo, un fregadero y un retrete. Los baños de los niños son azul y mismo que los baños de las niñas.
On Tuesday, we had a catered, Mexican food luncheon. It was a wonderful end to our unit on food. We explored many different cultures of hispanic food, including, Venezuelan, Pueblo Mexican, and Peruvian cuisines. We had a chance to savor Pueblo food. This is how it went:
Nombre Del Plato: Tacos dorados
Nombre Del Plato: Arroz
Nombre Del Plato: Pollo Cazuelas
!NO PUEDO COMER CHULETA!
Nombre Del Bebida: Horchata
Nombre Del Plato: Tres Leches
In art, there are blank spaces( as in spaces where the air goes). This is called negative space.
B. Explain how you found negative space in 1. your cut out?, 2. in your stool drawing?
In the cut out, I understood that the certain color was negative space. On one side i used that as orange, on the other side, it was highlighted in the brown.In the stool, I used space where the air was, that's what negative space is.
C. Why does it help an artist to see in negative space?It helps artists to see negative space because it allows them to have a better composition of their pieces.
D. Does seeing in negative space enhance drawings, why or why not
Drawing showing Negative Space enhances the intensity of the the shape itself. However, for detail, I feel it takes away.
Nick Jonas who is diabetic
y plantas, con una copa de jugo
Soy Amani . Tengo 15 años. Me fascina aprender. Por lo tanto, yo siempre leo. Cuando tengo tiempo libre, yo escribo poemas, escucho música y dibujo. Es por que piensan, soy artística. Sin embargo, soy perezosa, así que todos los días, duermo. A veces hago la tarea, solamente después de las clases.
Mi escuela, Science Leadership Academy, es muy diferente para otras escuelas publicas en Filadelfia. Tenemos que aplicar. Todo el mundo es extraño, los profesores también! La vida en SLA es loca y divertida. Tenemos mucho actividades. Tenemos el biblioteca y salón música. Hay quinientos estudiantes, es Pequeño para las otras escuelas. Esta en el centro de la cuidad. Me encanta SLA porque aprendemos mucho y tenemos que trabajar duro.
Clase : Poesía
Los Profesores :El Señor Kay y La Señorita Gina
Actividades en la clase: escribimos
Responsabilidades: tenemos que tener posturas positiva
Materiales: el cuaderno, una pluma o una lápiz ,
Opinión: Me caen bien porque es divertida
La Profesora : La Señorita Thompson
Actividades en la clase: resolver los problemas, dibujar
Responsabilidades: Hacer todos tarea, prestar atención, coger un buena nota en las pruebas y participar activamente
Materiales: La carpeta, unas hojas de papel, la computadora (a veces)
Opinión: Me fascina la clase de geometría porque aprendemos mucho.
Intro: ¡Hola! Siéntate y escuchar para mi.
Yo: Soy Amani. Tengo quince años. Soy de Filadelfia, Tengo el pelo rizado y los ojos morrenas. Me fascina practicar/ escuchar música. Me encanta cantar!
Ella: Ella es Emily. Tiene catorce años. Ella es extraña! Tiene el pelo roja. ¡Literalmente! Como mananza. Es adorable, me gusta mucha el pelo de Emily. Ella es muy boba. Le gusta dibujar y escuchar música. ¡Yo también! La adora porque ella es divertido.
Ellos: Ellos son Thomas, True y Haneef. Todos son altos y lindos . Todos tiene el pelo marrones y los ojos café. Pero, True tiene el pelo rizado . La apodo de True es Trigga Trig. True y Haneef son bobos, pero Thomas es serio. Haneef y True jugar Basquetbol, pero Thomas practicar guitarra. Sin embargo todos Les gustas escribir música. Me caen bien porque son geniales hermanos.
Ellas: Bryanna, Donesha y Khadija son mis amigas. Todos tienen diferente años. Bryanna y Donesha son bastante boba , pero Khadija es tímido. Khadijah y Bryanna les gusta bailar. Donesha es muy habladora. Todos son trabajadoras. Me encanta ellas porque son buenísimas amigas.
Nosotros: ¡Somos mejor amigas! Nos encanta escribir poesía. La quiero porque ella es importante para mi! Somos son algo exactamente. Somos hablar todo el tiempo.
Conclusión: mis amigos es mucho importante. Ellos son mi familia!!
¿Cómo estas? Soy Amani. Estoy emocionado a hablar contigo. Tengo quince años y Mi cumpleaños fue 11/11/11.!Qué chévere!¿Cuando es cumpleaños ? Sabes me vivo en Filadelfia. Es otoño/invierno, por hace fresco. ¿Qué tiempo hace en Maracaibo?
¿Qué te gusta hacer en Maracaibo? Me gusta cantar y como se dice tweet. Me gusta Adele y Beyoncé. Me encantar Lady Gaga. No me gusta nada correr porque soy muy perezosa. Sin embargo, me gusta bailar. En Filadelfia chicos y chicas bailar con Jerseymusic. (link to a video of us dancing) . Soy muy baja pero mucho sociable y habladora. No me gusta nada aburrido gentes. Es por eso que mi amigos es loco. ¿Comó eres tú?
¡Ay dios mio! Me casi no recordar mi familia. Me tengo una hermana, Selah. Es molestón. Tiene tres años. Es mucho cómica , sin embargo
Bueno, me voy porque tengo que ir al almuerzo. ¡Adiós!
here is a video of different ways to be polite in hallway etiquette
1. using perdon
2. por favor, gracias and de nada
3. Lo siento and con permiso being used
click the picture!