In the beginning of senior year I was still very unsure of what I wanted to do for my senior capstone. I had considered a mural or something of that nature because of my passion of art, however, I was torn between art and science. I felt that it would be beneficial to explore something pertaining to science, since that is what I would be studying in college, but I was having a hard time finalizing an idea. Luckily, Stephanie Dunda, a teacher that has helped me to indulge in my interest in the sciences in the past, came to me and offered to connect me to an organization called Palms Solutions that was looking for a volunteer to introduce a science program to their after school program TIMBA. 

I took the opportunity and met with both the founder of TIMBA, Jean Marie, and his wife Dr.Mecky. Jean Marie explained that in addition to being a volunteer tutor for his program that I would possibly have several other responsibilities. These responsibilities would include starting a blog on the TIMBA website where other volunteers would be able to talk about their experiences at TIMBA and introducing the kids to some science based experiments while incorporating the math that was being reviewed in the tutoring sessions. I gladly accepted the offer and began my internship with enthusiasm. 

I was paired with another tutor/teacher and we worked together tutoring the children in our small classroom. I worked closely with the children, getting to know them personally and learning their math levels. I began designing a project that could work with what I had learned about them and tat could work around the time frame that I was given. I researched and surveyed the kids about what they wanted to do. Ultimately, I decided to help the kids perform the very classic volcano experiment, with a little twist. I was going to use fractions, the math the children had been working on, to exemplify how math is important in a real life and fun way. The goal was to use different fractions of baking soda and vinegar and see which pairing of fractions gave the best fizz. However, through some conflicting opinions the experiment that was performed in the end was a petri dish experiment. This experiment was meant to also show the kids the importance of fractions, by allowing them to count the colonies of bacteria, as well as teach them a few things about antibiotics, bacteria, and scientists. Once again, do to timing complications this experiment was not performed fully or as throughly as I would have liked. 

Overall, the experience taught me a few things about working with different people and working in different environment. I learned a lot about time management, when third parties are involved, and working with children. 

Meetings 

Jean Marie 

10/11/12

10/18/12

10/25/12

11/1/12

11/8/12

11/15/12

11/29/12

12/6/12

12/13/12

12/20/12

1/3/13

1/10/13

1/17/13

1/24/13

1/31/13

1/7/13

1/14/13

1/21/13

1/28/13

2/7/13

2/14/13

2/21/13

2/28/13

3/4/13

3/11/13

3/18/13

3/25/13

4/2/13

Dunda 

10/3/12

10/17/12

10/31/12

11/14/12

11/28/12

12/12/12

1/9/13

1/23/13

2/6/13

2/20/13

3/6/13

3/20/13

4/24/13

5/22/13

In the beginning of my senior year, with the help of a few teachers, I was matched up with a non-profit organization by the name of Palms Solutions. In the rectory of a small West Philadelphia community church, Palms Solutions hosts an after school program called TIMBA that caters to helping African American children connect back to their African roots while also helping the young students to practice and develop their math and reading skills. My connection with Palms Solutions consisted of volunteering as a tutor for TIMBA. In addition to tutoring in math, it was my intention to also bring science to the learning environment and even perform a few experiments with the children all the while incorporating the math that they were reviewing in their tutoring sessions. However, through a few scheduling difficulties I was unable to accomplish all of the goals that I had set for my partnership with the program. Despite this, I did manage to perform one experiment with the children that worked petri plates and culturing bacteria. Overall, over the course of my capstone I gained volunteer, tutoring, teaching, and coordinating experience that I had not previously had. 

This quarter we were given the assignment to learn and draw from an online art course. In the beginning I wasn't too excited to do this because I felt like I wouldn't learn anything from the lessons, however, I learned small tips and techniques from doing each drawing. I definitely pushed my abilities by doing the pictures that were done in colored pencil. I'm the type of person that enjoys expanding my abilities across a multitude of different mediums, this assignment allowed me to do that. I have a hard time shading a picture without precise detail and I feel like the cross shading and the scribble technique that was used in a few of the lessons helped me loosen up with my attention to detail. Admittedly, the objects weren't exactly things that I would've personally chosen to draw and add to my portfolio but looking over all of the ones that I have done I find myself admiring the technique that I used more than the actual picture.If I was to do something like this over again I would probably force myself to step out of my comfort zone even more and do more pictures in color. 

I am: An artist, an adventurer, a hoodlum 

Current Home: South Philly 

To that spot behind Walmart,

That spot behind Walmart, you’ve seen more sides to me than most human beings. It’s crazy how I’ve watched you evolve too. Me and Him explored you when you were still uninhabited, still untouched, rough, rugged. You’ve always treated us so good, giving us a place to escape when just a few blocks away would get too much for us to take. I remember hating that they were changing you, making you bare and concreted. I can’t say you were typically beautiful or that you were ever defined as nature, you had your flaws that included more than a few pieces of trash, or burned rubber, and that old car that made me think of you as a place out of some ridiculously cliche movie. You were ugly but I loved you for it. Remember our anniversary when those stupid kids tried to burn down the rest of you and I put out the flames when no one else cared enough to? I ran to you at my weakest plenty of times and you always gave me the pleasure of silence and faint sounds of the river waves against the dock. I’ve always found the lights from Jersey to be our stars. I visited you recently. You’re dying, almost completely exposed now. Every tree that once lined that path they burned on you in the beginning has withered away. The small forest that gave me the excitement of exploration has become not much more than twigs and browned grass. I still love you. It hurts to go back seeing now what you’ve become, what those memories that I have of you have become. Maybe I’ll see you in the spring and we’ll both be flourishing.

- Cheyenne 

A sugar skull is a Mexican mask that is usually made with hardened sugar and designed for the Day of the Dead, similar to our Halloween, in an almost spooky way. The main design for sugar skulls are skeleton faces. For this piece I began with creating my mask to get an idea on what would be possible on my canvas. Kamilah and Sophie helped me with this step so I give them credit for the finished product. I then researched some usual designs of a sugar skull and a lot of the same designs came up. I decided to put a twist on a classic art and really make it my own. This project was done right around the time of Halloween and I was planning on dressing up as Harley Quinn (the Joker's girlfriend from Batman). Her style is almost Mardi Gras inspired and I put this into consideration when I was drafting my design. I chose to sneak in a heart, as the lips, and a spade, as the nose. Trying to make it look as professional as possible I smoothed down what I could and trimmed the outer rim of the mask. I then based it with a few layers of white Gesso paint. After it dried I sketched, in pencil, an outline of my final design. I chose my colors, red and black, and began to paint it. At one point I decided that I wasn't fully satisfied with the style of the lips therefore I painted over that part with the white Gesso and started again. Even after everything was painted to my liking I touched up, making my lines as neat and crisp as possible. After all was said, done, and dry I carefully glazed the front of the mask. I had to be very precise with this process because of possible smearing and blending. Overall I am extremely pleased with the final result and would only want to change the texture of the mask if I could do it all again, perhaps sand it down. 

The Patriot Act was put in place to protect and secure the American people, however, more than a decade later the act has not been altered to truly give back the privacy that the constitution promises Americans. While some sections of the Patriot Act are still very much a necessity, others can be altered or even removed to provide an up to date version of the act. In the place of these out of date sections new and , what should have been, required sections need to be inserted. Sec.101. Counterterrorism Fund, which serves as the introduction to the act, states that the fund is to provide finances to Federal agencies for a multitude of different reasons including reestablishing offices or facilities that have been damed or destroyed as a result of terrorism. Although this claus may be perceived as helpful we no longer have a direct and immediate need for this type of fund. To put it in perspective, other funds of the United States are severely lacking to say the least and Americans are suffering due to the misplacement of crucial money. 

In addition, the concerns of the Patriot Act should truly begin with the man in charge. "If an agent makes the required assertion that he or she believes information relevant to a terrorism investigation might be found, the court “must” issue the order without actually reviewing whether there is any justification for the agent prying into the affairs of someone who may not even be suspected of anything." - Susan N. Herman. This is where the trouble begins. With the amount of spying or "supervision" that agencies have the authority to conduct on any person(s) there need to be some serious revisions to make sure that authority is not being abused. 

Be Concise- When using sizing to represent a size visually the ratio of the object's sizing must have the same ratio to the numbers.Example: if country A has 100,000,000 people and country B has 200,000,000 then the image that represents country B should be 2x bigger than country A's image. 

Be Visual- Use images and visual representation to resemble the information. Do not not use many words. Any words that are used need to have NO way to be resembled visual and must be important enough to be used. 

Be Transparent- The info-graph should be clear and easy to understand explaining any abstract representations. 

Be Different- Be inspired by other graphs but think differently about your own design and how your information can be applied visually.

Be Accurate- Do lots of research and make all info accurate. 

Be Attractive- Use attractive colors and shapes. Use techniques that are known to attract people to read or understand more. 

Be Varied- Try different representations and forms of presentations. 

Be Gracious- Be bold without being to cliche bold. 

Be Creative- Use all creative tools that are available to you. Don't take th easy way out and don't be afraid to try creative things. 

Which of these areas did you excel in? Which were not so well represented? Why do you think some elements of design were easier or harder to include in the end product?

I think we excelled in the attractive aspect, we made our info-graphic visually appealing and easy to understand but I think we could've improved on the varied aspect of the project only for the fact we didn't really take advantage of all the different resources that were available to us. I feel like it was harder to incorporate ideas later on after we already had this idea of what we wanted it to be. 

They call it your responsibility, an obligation, a calling. They surround you with descriptions and depictions of this dream of red, white and blues failing to mention this alternate dimension, this place , this time where only the lies are fed to you free and living is a business breathing is paid for nothing is what it seems and being on the inside doesn't give any more information than what they provide and with all the power in the world and still they are cowards they hide through loop holes and back door deals. And now its your responsibility, an obligation, a calling to change what you know is wrong and sir they'll call you a bigger hero than hercules strength does not come in hundreds of men and their muscles but instead they're voices being heard. See that is the key to creating sustaining maintaining a beautiful day of new. Just listen for a second and promises were never meant to be broken and a wise man once "Behind the ostensible government owing no allegiance and acknowledging no responsibility to the people." 

• Mi grupo y yo hicimos un PSA sobre la basura en el mundo y los oceános. 
  
• Por crear el PSA, la cosa más importante que aprendí fue hay busura diferentes efectos sobre el medio ambiente.  
• Me gusta el PSA de mi group porque es poderosa y informativa.
• Si pudiera hacer el proyecto otra vez, yo cambiaría la forma fue representado, por ejemplo un podcast o un video.

Hicimos un PSA sobre ensuciar en el medioambiente y Filadelfia. Es un asunto importante a nosotros porque muchos personas. Esperamos que el público de Filadelfia comprenda las consecuencias de ensuciar.

I quivered and shook. There was blood drenched in various pools across the cloths that my mother had presented me with when I became of age. This was also the same day my skills had reached their prime and I became the special woman of my village. Unlike most, my power to control the sacred talismans, had developed unusually fast. Along with the three princesses, our world’s moons, the talisman allowed the ability to travel in and out of the present. The gift to control the talisman was a gift that was within only worthy women, the few of them that remained. Although, the other women were forced to wait for the alignment of the moons to begin their journeys through time, I did not. My natural born power allowed me to travel at various cycles of the princesses. However, no matter how special my power was, it only allowed me to venture as far as a few years.

 My father was the only one who had forewarned me of the allurement to disobedience my gift would bring. The temptations urged me to abuse the gift other chosen women did not have. The priestesses, the most powerful of the women, were law and as law they forbade the travel to the past in fear that it would alter the future. The chosen women, such as what I once was, were limited to only the future and to explore what we did not know. As new women were born, the priestesses deemed worthy only few and bound the sacred talismans to them. The power to control them was something that you must posses at birth, it’s in your blood.

The place where my implanted talisman, the key to my venture home, located in the palm of my right hand, was beginning to fade and along with it the flesh that surrounded it to bind it to me. I had disobeyed and I was paying the price. The price that had been only rumored about among the chosen, for no one had ever tempted to do what I had done. I then understood that even the curious ones that may have tried and strayed from altering the future had no key home. Even with all the power flowing through us chosen ones, we are subjected to time like all others without the precious talismans.

Although clear in color, I could see the stone burn with crisps of red and black. It was dying and my chance to return along with it. The pain of the burns made me scream with agony and beg for the princesses to just take the hand in whole. Soon, there was nothing left but a hole, a permanent reminder of just what I scarified.  

“Priestesses of Uriel, please, save my fate and grant me the power to return to my origin!” I begged to nobodies.

I pleaded for another alignment but alas the three princesses of our world had not yet been created and for all that I knew they would never be created due to my presence. I had tampered with the balance and was destined to be here, in the past, for, what appeared to be, the rest of my life force. I was stuck in an ancient world; one much like my own but was surrounded not by moons but instead plasma and stars. One detail in particular made me especially curious if not fearful of this world; it had a star brighter than any star that had lived in my world. The star was burning, ending its life, I imagined, but not even the death of any of our large stars could compare to the light that radiated from this time’s star.

I redirected my attention from the emptiness in my palm to the streaks of pure heating energy, skewed once more to a haze in the far distance of the sands. The desert that I had landed into when I made my venture was visibly dense containing grains and tiny unscathed pebbles and met the sky at every border. The haze, foggy and mysterious, crept out from behind a sand dune and almost hovered in my direction. With the sand’s unique abundance of purple quartz, I began to recognize this desert as the desert of Aliquam, a desert infamous in my time for it’s luxurious treasures and stones. In my time, however, there was not such an extraordinary source of the stones.

I wrapped my hand, now numb with constant heat, in a patterned sash that my father weaved for me when I was still a youngling. I screeched in utter agony as I pulled it tighter to prevent further bleeding. The blur, once so far in the distance, had made its way to only but a short distance from me. I saw what could be none other than a man, strong and balanced, that walked with such grace that it was as if he were walking on stone instead of caving sand. His wisps of hair slapped around through the fog of air and sand particles.

As he approached me I observed his hands, they appeared as if molded by clay, his entire body had this resemblance. His face, a beautiful mix of lone and wild, only implied other speculations of who he really was. His strange presence tickled my imagination the way not even this forsaken time had once done. I knew not a name but a legend of this creature that was rumored to be born of the sands it self.

“ Why do you travel in this desert? This is the desert of Aliquam and I forbid those who seek petty jewels for mere appearance. Speak your title or my hand shall be forced to steal your life force from your body and spill blood on these already drenched sands.”

  He spoke gently but I could note the piercing fierceness in his tone. He underestimated my persistence and sheer impatience at that point. Disappointingly, I was all but ignorant to this type of being, despite the legends.

“ Peasant,” my voice crackling still rattled with subdued pain, “ you are unknowing of my abilities and my uniqueness among women. I am not who you believe I am to be. I am not an enemy to this time, I am a victim.”

            He stood like stone only but a few steps in front of me, in clear view of my steady drip of blood and yet was not phased, affected, or concerned in the least bit. Although, I didn’t expect much of a reaction to my self inflicted misfortune. He responded contrary to how I believed a warrior would act.

“ Leave.”                                                                                                                                                                                           

With that he turned and walked with such grace it made me stare in awe, never had I seen a man with such pose.

“Wait!”

 I swiftly moved to grab for him and surprisingly for his lack of distance from my reach he managed to evade me and had disappeared from sight.

“ My vision must be deceiving me he must not have been…”

He was gripping the wrist that acted as a passage of blood flow to the empty palm. In that instance I felt nothing but anguish and the instinct to reach for my dagger concealed under my cloths beside my hip. I struck, and missed. The air but only made a hissing sound as the blade sliced through the spot where he was standing only a moment ago.

“ How do you manage to move so swiftly?”, I questioned.

He replied but left himself cloaked or hidden, unsure but surely he was not visible to my eyes.

“ I am not. I am here with you. I wish not to hurt you. Injured as you are you pose no threat to me and any battle will end with haste”

“ Present yourself. Only the sly cower and disappear.”

I threateningly said but the confidence was a mere façade.

Making himself known, he came forth.

“ My name is Abeo. I am a child of these sands and firstly protector of its existence. If have come to posses their crystals for your greed you shall be vanquished at my hand.”

“I wish you and your giver no harm. I am from a foreign world, a different time and place. By my own doing I am now apart of this world and wish only to coexist if no other option of returning home presents itself. My name is Adalia.”

“Adalia, why have you traveled to this world if residing was not a desire?”

I stood my position although I was visibly swayed by the question. It was a question I had never once thought to ask myself. Suddenly, without warning, Abeo drew his blade and stood on guard, his eyes were peering at something in the distance behind me. I turned to face the place of his focus and I began to see what he saw. There was thousands, an army of men. When I turned to face him with questioning eyes I saw another strip of men lining the horizon where the sky met the desert.

“Abeo, what is this? What knowledge have you had of this?”

“Nothing of the sort of treachery your tone accuses me of. These are greedy men having war for power. Leave, now.”

“If you are not my enemy and here we are both victims, I shall stay and fight. I do not cower like most women.”

He grabbed at the sand beside his feet and although there was nothing but grains that initially slipped through his fingers he picked something of solid matter. He tossed me the blade and regaining my composer, I stood with him and waited for the catalyst that inevitably changed what I knew about the world forever.

• What surprised you most about this information?  What seemed quite obvious about explaining this data set?
  The thing that surprised me most about the data was the general numbers of immigrants. The great depression was literally one of the most depressing times in America and all though there was a severe decrease in immigrants there were still a large amount. It was obvious that in times of war, over seas especially, there would be an increase in people trying to escape from the war zone. 
  
  
• Looking at the overall trend and incorporating what you know about the US presently, predict and defend the immigration trend for the next two decades.
  I think the immigration numbers would continue to rise and may have some points from 2000-to present where it decreases because of the economic inflation. I do not think that it would cause a severe drop but it would be a noticeable one. 
  
  
• Describe how you made a decision on how to visually represent the information.
  Originally my group created a very boring slide show, which we soon fixed to a single image. I had originally wanted to do something basic and even elementary because with things like history sometimes it doesn't hurt to simplify the information so that all people , really uninformed to experts, would understand. I liked the idea of child like smiley faces because if I was the audience it would appeal to me.
  
  
• What parts of group work were challenging?
  I think as a group we could've did a better job splitting up the work because with both versions of the presentation someone was left doing 90% of the work. I do think, however, that it was more efficient to work like that in this instance because doing separate things and trying to incorporate it all into one simple photo would have been difficult in the amount of time we had. Although, we did all have a say in what the image should include and how we could represent it. Original ideas were shared by everyone equally. 
  
   
• What would you do differently if you had this project to do over?
  I would probably want to make the presentation something a little bit more animate and interactive and somehow portray why the numbers dropped a bit better. 

Hands down my favorite and creative project has to be the poetry portfolio I became more than indulged in this assignment. When I was younger I wrote a lot of poetry and I'm the type of person to dabble in different types of activities rather than excel in just one. When I lost interest I moved to something else. The course made me see poetry so much more broad and open, very similar to the religion project. I found a calling in poetry and I enjoyed it so much more than I did when I dabbled when I was younger. I not developed a new found respect for poetry but also an admiration for it. Because of this assignment I discovered my talent for the art form and still continue to write frequently on a personal level if only for the fun of it. 

Cast 

Mrs. Mustang Jonathon’s mother 

Craig Jury member

Reporter Reporter for the NY Times

Mrs.Okar Radhi’s mother 

Jonathon Mustang Military officer

Radhi Okar Child in the Sierra Leone military

Mr.Krooks Radhi’s Lawyer

Woman Jury member 

Monologues   
MONOLOGUES TAKE PLACE AROUND MISSISSIPPI (JONATHON’S HOME TOWN

 Mother of the recently killed white officer spoke to her therapist of ten years. Mother is an older Catholic woman. She is lying in chair crying and sobbing.

Mrs. Mustang: You don’t understand! That child killed em he’s the devil, I’m telling you that Nigger child killed my sweet baby Jonathon! My husband died in the military. Ya know that? Of course you did, course you did. My husband … that damn bastard, good for nothing drunk. When he got back from the war he drank his weight in beer, sat back while I raised our son and one day he just up and left us. He left me... now John. John left me. Oh lord what am I ‘posed ta do now! 

[Pause]

[The mother pulls a tissue from the therapist’s desk and begins to tab away tears. She then sits back down still sobbing slightly.]

Mrs. Mustang: The report said the children there all look about uh …around… nine or ten years old. Can you believe that? Ten years old, fighting a war that has nothing to do with them. They aren’t innocent. Jonathon was innocent. That bastard deserves to die. They all deserve to have their lives taken from them. They haveta pay for what they took from me. They have too…

[Looks away slowly and out of the window]

[Looks back furiously]

Mrs. Mustang: The hell I’m gonna calm down [say’s mockingly similar to the therapist], Mr. Limens! You sit there with your notebook and pen and get paid to do what? Tell people to calm down! I refuse to just sit back and take this. I want the death penalty when we go to trial. I want my baby to have peace of mind knowing he

Mrs. Mustang: Oh, I am so sorry!  I’ve got to answer this.


---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Man preparing to go to court he is apart of the jury.

[Brushing his teeth in the mirror]

Craig: Yes your honor we the jury have come to a verdict. We find the defendant, Radhi Okar, guilty of first degree murder and sentence him to deat...
No no no no. It just isn’t right it doesn’t even sound right. A ten year old child sentenced to death. He had been promised a better life than in poverty but naive as he must seem that child made a choice I wouldn’t even dream of. All these children in poverty in Sierra Leone and when someone gives them a choice we prosecute them for it. 

[Sighs]

What am I saying? The other members of the jury would never listen to me. Made of mostly racist men anyway. Damn bastards. I fucking hate this trial. 1.10.11

[Continues brushing teeth then spits, fixes his tie and turns off the bathroom light]

Craig: I’m not ready for this. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Reporter telling his co-worker about the Okar/ Mustang case before it is made public. Is in cubicle. He is sitting. The story has moved nation wide so the trial is being held in New York instead of Mississippi.

Reporter: So, there’s this kid right? And the kid killed uhm the Lieutenant, Jonathon Mustang, right? But see this guy he jus’ came back a year ago to receive some medal or something but anyway the child was taken into custody after some soldiers picked em up after the shooting in Sierra Leone.

[Pause]

Reporter: Yea, … yea … yea. Ya I know that alright? You really think if I could get an interview with him I’d be talking to your slacker ass right now?

[Swings arm in frustration knocks hot coffee on to self]

Reporter: Damn it! Ah, hot. Damn. *wipes*Crap these are new.

[Pause]

Reporter is now furious talking in a loud dramatic manner while still dabbing away at the coffee stain casually and subconsciously.

Reporter: What’da’ya mean what’s the problem? The problem is the damn FBI has him in custody but you know how that works. All the questions never get one damn answer and all of a sudden poof the story’s gone. No kid no story cause ya know anyone with an ounce of tie to the government don’t have a comment for shit. [Pause]

Reporter: *Huff* Can somebody get me some paper towels damn it!
----------------------------------------------------------------------

Mother of Radhi Okar. She is speaking to a man that wants to take Radhi to join the Sierra Leone military. Mother is a widow who’s husband died in the cross fire of war.

Mrs.Okar: Wa da ya mean you want ta take Radhi! What gud he gon’ do you out there! All you men seem ta do is give a gun to a baby and tell him ta fi-ya at da white man. Ah know men like you.

[Points finger in man’s face and then is hit]

Mrs.Okar: You bastard.  

[Pause]

Mrs.Okar: O, mah baby. Radhi, my baby. I’m fine don’t you worry bout mama. She gonna be alright.

[Man grabs Radhi by the arm and begins to drag him from the small shabby hut.]

Mrs.Okar: No! No! No! Don take em. Please! I beg you! He is my only son! I will do whateva you want!

[Grabs leg of man and looks up at man with tears in her eyes]

Mrs. Okar: I will be your woman. Take me! Leave my son!

[Sobs and crying]

Mrs. Okar: I’m sorry Radhi.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Uprising in Sierra Leone. Men from the United States have been called in to take control of the situation. In Sierra Leone, before Jonathon’s death.
       
Jonathon: We gotta move, move, move! Wait! Solider you better get down they’re firing like animals! What have ya lost your mind!

[Pew pew pew]

Jonathon: Okay, so this is what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna take the hut. We need someone to distract them while I sneak up from behind and take out the guard with the machine gun. And then you gotta…

[Boom]

Jonathon: Ah! Holy fuck! My arm!

[Clutching left arm filled with glass shards. Wound is only skin deep not fatal but painful and takes a deep breath]

Jonathon: I’m okay. I’m okay.

[Tone lowers to become very sentimental]

Jonathon: Boys, it got real dangerous real fast. We lost our comrades, communications with base are severed and the war zone out there left us no way to retreat. I feel as though I have failed you. As your lieutenant I made a sworn promise to bring you home safely or at least intact. Ha. I never thought I’d make it this far so fast.

[Makes a thoughtful grin]

Jonathon: Back then I never thought I’d be in charge of men like you by my thirties while I still got so much to learn. Everyone here has honored my living by fighting beside me today and for all these years. I’m forever grateful.

[Smiles then releases arm and puts both hands back onto gun, clutching it. Puts a determined face on]

Jonathon: So, do me this one last favor would ya’? Give it your all and avenge these people who’ve been slain by the war lords do not let them get away with it. We must put it to an end, for good. If you won’t do it for me, do it for them. So lets go men, no time to waste. Get into position. Aim for the truck over there and, you, point your laser right there, on the gas tank. Everyone else, follow me and fire on my command. Ready? Let’s Go!

[Runs out from behind the concrete pillar that was shielding them and begins their assault]

Jonathon: Now! Fire! Fire! Go go go! Come on men, we gotta surround the hut. You go that way I’ll cover this side.

[Runs behind the hut and continues shooting]

Jonathon: Hold your fire, Hold your fire! There’s a child, a young boy! Don’t shoot!

[Walks towards Radhi cautiously and squints]

Jonathon: What’s that ya got there? Is that … a gun?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Radhi is sitting in an FBI interrogation room sobbing and scared. Two FBI men are interrogating him harshly about the killing of Jonathon Mustang. He has an African accent.

Radhi: Huh? … Uhm. Ah don know. Ah don know his name... The man who uh took me? Pa pa pa pa pa please. Please. Please stop... 

[Pause] 

[Begins crying solemnly] 

[White interrogator walks in and the door slams itself shut behind him] 

[Radhi slightly jumps in his chair. He is frantic, wide eyed]

 
Radhi: Huh. Who is dat? What’s he doin here? Let me go leave me alone. Let me out, let me go. 

[pause]

Radhi: Why are you asking all dees questions? Dat man said I need a lawyer or somefin and I'm not loud to talk to you. 

[Pause] 

[Sobs and sniffles]

Radhi: Ya, Ah remember dat. Ah wus scared, Kojana told me dat if … 

[Pause]

Radhi: He’s da man who took me from my mama he told me to take da gun and grab on it if a white man came near me. He said it would stop dem from taking me away from mah mama. He said if ah took da gun dat my mama would be happy and mah papa would come home. 

Radhi: Ah don’t know who dat man was or what happened to em. Do ya know where my mama?
Ah miss her.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lawyer of Radhi is having a casual coffee break with a colleague at Starbucks. He is currently in New York City before his flight out the Mississippi for the trial.

Mr. Krooks: How much was that? 

[Pause]
Mr. Krooks: Oh uh … three. . Four. Here you go. 

[Drops a coin on the floor and bends down to get it.]

Mr. Krooks: Oops, ha ha. Here ya go. 

[Turns around to walk out of the Starbucks with colleague]

[Its winter in New York City and they are walking around the city looking for a non-crowded lunch cart]  

Mr. Krooks: Yea, so I leave for my flight tomorrow. Haven’t met the kid yet but I have a bad feeling bout this case. Things I’ve heard make it seem like I got a hard defense ahead of me. Evidence is dead on and I’m gonna try for a plea bargain. Which is a little hard considering it’s not on my turf. I’m gonna be surrounded by racists so I’ve got my work cut out for me with a black client. This kids mom raised up quite a buzz with a media with all those protest hippies and stuff she somehow managed to pull off enough money to pay for a city lawyer like me. I’m not the best or anything but I try, work my ass off for my paycheck. 

[Pause]

[Chris says something] 

Mr. Krooks: Ha ha. No, Chris, I don’t think he’s innocent but that’s not what this job is about. It’s about getting enough money to support my wife and kids before she leaves me and takes them with her. I can’t afford ta do another pro-bono, ‘specially not with this kid. The occupation calls for a defense and that’s what I’m gonna do, defend.

[Pause]

[Chris says something]

Mr. Krooks: My son? My son would never KILL a man. That’s ridiculous, Chris. 

[Says in a mocking tone]

Mr. Krooks: Imagine that though, “We find Patrick Krooks guilty of first degree murder.” Ha ha, little, can’t throw a football, even at the age of 12, Patrick. Ya really think he’d ever be in this situation?

[Pause]

[Chris says something]

Mr. Krooks: *sigh* Ya but guess you’re right a little bit. Way too young for the death sentence. Aw! C’mon, Chris! I always swore up and down on my mother’s grave I’d never make my job personal! That’s how I survive doing what I do, knowing what I know. No, child, man, woman is ever innocent if they give me a call and I know that all too well but like I said it’s my job to turn a blind eye to it all and defend a guilty man. 

[Pause] 

Mr.Krooks: Ha ha, but yea on a lighter note look over there, that one doesn’t have too much of a line and our breaks almost over anyway. 

[Mr.Krooks glances at his watch]

Mr.Krooks: Phew, It’s already 2:30. C’mon my treat.

 -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

During the trial Mrs. Mustang is brought to the stand as part of the prosecution and begins her heartwarming story. She has her hand on the bible and is being sworn in.
She is standing. 

Mrs. Mustang: I swear. 

[Sits down]

Mrs. Mustang: Well, lets see... the night Jonathon was killed I was … hmm, watching Wheel of Fortune and having a nice lunch with a few girlfriends that I’ve known for years. I met them in church bout... 8 years ago. We’d always watch a bit of television and I’d make small sandwiches. We all knew what it was like to lose a husband or a son to the service. Marcie Jefferson lost her husband a few years back. I remember how she fell apart. It was so tragic. And did you know that...

[Pause] 

[Mood changes to depressed] 

Mrs. Mustang: Oh right right, forgive me. I got the phone call later that night. 

[Takes a deep breath]  

Mrs. Mustang: He was gone. I was angry and hurt and I couldn’t believe mah baby boy...

[Pause] 

Mrs. Mustang: I’m sorry so sorry … just one minute? 

[Sobbing]

[Dabbing her eyes looking up trying to hold back tears] 

[Deep breath]

Mrs. Mustang: Phew okay, I apologize. It’s just so hard for me. Every night I go into his room and smell his pillows and hold his baseball glove to my heart. 

[Closes eyes and imagines holding the glove to her chest] 

[Opens eyes and becomes angry]

Mrs. Mustang: That young man right there took him away from me my pride and joy. He should be executed. 

[Pause] 

[Face changes to a defeated look] 

Mrs. Mustang: That’s what I would’ve truly believed a couple months ago. A strong catholic woman lost her path in the Lord Almighty and Jesus Christ. But …

[Eyes widen and she is choking back tears behind a remembering smile]

Mrs. Mustang: He came to me. Last night in my dreams, he came to me with his beautiful face. 

[Pause]

Mrs. Mustang: No no no no no. Jonathon. HE came to me. Told me to forgive. I woke up in tears shaking. He reminded me of my faith. I want nothing more than my baby boy to rest in peace and last night he came to me and showed me what it meant to be in peace. I will never forget what kind of monster killed my son but I HAVE forgiven this child he does not know. 

[Pause]

[She says quietly]

Mrs. Mustang: Is that all? Can I get down now?

[Gets up and walks back to the defense side and sobs in the arms of her friend Marcie]

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Craig (jury member) is going into deliberation with the other jury members. He is anxious and fidgety fiddling with his hands once and a while.

Craig: Ladies and gentleman. Please. Settle down. We heard many sides to this trial and we have a tough decision to make and with the information given we gotta make an honest choice for the child. 

[Pause] 

[A bunch of mumbled voices in the background]

[Voice changes to confident and disapproving]

Craig: People! Are you honestly gonna even take a second thought of execution. I mean, maybe it’s something out of the ordinary for you people to do but there is such thing as mercy and rehabilitation. You people wanna pass yourselves off as “ pure Catholics” but where is it in the bible to kill a child cause of color or cause of something someone else told him to do? I’m not gonna sit here and listen to this bickering and back and forth talk of kill or life sentence. Are you seriously forgetting how old he is? Ten. 

[Points to a man] 

Craig: You, you have kids right? What if this young boy was your kid? 

[Pause]

[Tone gets furious]

Craig: Doesn’t matter if he’s purple! He has rights or are you forgetting that? Gonna brainwash your kids to think like that too? No one else matters if you’re white? 

[Pause]

[Tone becomes sad and he looks down]

Craig: I had a daughter. She passed away in a car crash last year. Her mother was driving. A drunk driver swerved on the road hit them dead on. We had just gotten a divorce. I went to church every day blamed myself blamed that drunk driver. He didn’t deserve to live. But he did. And I hated him for it. Some catholic I was. I lost myself in revenge and pay back and only end up hurting myself. 

[Pause]

Craig: A chance for forgiveness. A chance for this boy to change and learn and grow.  That’s all I’m asking. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Woman from the jury announces the verdict for Radhi Okar and the final hearing.

Woman: Yes, your honor. We the jury finds Radhi Okar guilty of first degree murder. We the jury also finds Radhi Okar not guilty of all other arms charges. We sentence him to 10 years in juvenile confinement with no chance of bail or probation. He must also see a therapist a regular basis. We the jury would also like to give our condolences to both mothers. They each loss a son to the fight in Sierra Leone.

For my second quarter art project I did what I did naturally, draw. I love to sketch and especially sketch anime characters. Lately I've been really nerdy watching all my old cartoons from when I was younger and it gave me the inspiration to try drawing like the professionals. These pictures aren't very creative but I chose to do this type of assignment to test my skills as an artist. The pictures show something about myself as well. Each one is my favorite character from a specific show. The progress of my artwork is each individual picture. I found that it would simpler, instead of taking picture line by line, to take each picture and make a collage. 

Art. Such a small word but into it goes so much meaning; So many different forms and interpretations of this three-letter word. But what does it mean to be an artist? It means having the ability to put down every emotion and every feeling inside of you into a picture, a dance routine, and a sculpture. It means being able to paint a picture of your mind for the world to see; and that I why I do what I do. I want the world to feel who I am; to touch and see and feel what’s been inside of my mind; my heart. When I work with paint I am reminded that the world is a colorful place and that we’ve stepped out of the black and white days into a colorful and diverse place. I begin a piece by thinking about the assignment and how I can add my own person experiences into it.

I know a piece is done when I feel that it’s complete and I’ve got my message across. When my work is going well, I am filled with a sense of happiness and expressive success. When people see my work, I'd like them to step into my shoes and look into my mind.

            When it comes to my artwork, it’s really all about how I feel. Honestly all of my work has to be thought out in my headfirst so when it comes to decision-making I try my hardest to think about what fits best in my piece and what makes the most sense in my mind. I like making my work really out there to reflect my bold and expressively different personality. When it comes to different themes of my artwork, I try to keep it real. I like making my art a reflection of my life and what is happening. It gives me a way to document my life in a sense; some girls have journals where they jot down all of their emotions, I have little pieces of artwork to serve as memoirs throughout my life.

            My current artwork is a heart made of recycled newspapers and other re used objects. In my current life, I am going through some hardships with love and so my piece is centered on a heart. The recycled paper is coming from the top in many different kind of untamed ways to represent the wild and untamed habits of teenage love and love in general. In the center of the heart is a silver square that is different and more luminous as compared to the rest of the piece. This represents the different being inside the core of each person; weather it’s a strong and bold center inside of the cowardly girl or a scared and hurt boy inside a cold and courageous man. This also can relate to the heart of the earth and how it needs our help to survive and we need to remember recycling our resources is like the reusing of blood to our heart.