Ingredients: 

1 skinless whole chicken

curry powder

salt

garlic

lemon juice

pepper (optional)

white rice

Directions:

1. Cut the chicken into edible bites.
2. Clean the chicken by washing it and adding some lemon juice to it. This also helps with flavor.
3. Turn the stove on high and place vegetable oil in a skillet to heat up.
4. Season your chicken with salt, pepper, garlic, and curry powder.
5. Once seasoned and once the oil has heated, place the chicken in skillet to cook for about 30 mins
6. Half way through cooking time, boil rice. 
7. Place the chicken over the rice and Enjoy.

Analysis:

My dish is able to me made organic or non-organic. I personally used non-organic items because they are cheaper. The whole chicken I used was processed so it was more than likely fed steroids and products to make it fat. A chicken on a proper diet prior to being butchered is considered an organic chicken. Removing salt from the chicken would also make it a healthier dish; alternatives such as accent are great substitutions for a better diet. Cooking the chicken in vegetable oil is great too.

The rice was actually rice that’s able to be cooked in a bag (cheap) , but their are healthier alternative.Using some sort of organic white rice would benefit you more. There’s a myth that brown rice is the better rice between the two , but it actually studies actually show that replacing all brown rice with white rice in your diet would lower your chances of diabetes. Sticking with the white rice is the best way to go!

Majority of the ingredients are simple seasonings and they are the main source for the taste of the food. Most should not be swapped out. They calories from the seasonings do add up, but they aren't too bad.

Overall, my dish is not unhealthy, but there are plenty of ways to make it healthier. Depending on your serving size, the meal is no more than 500 calories. I'm unsure what curry chicken would be like if it was baked, but it would not hurt to try it!

Reflection:

During this quarter, I learned a lot about the foods that I often consume. Just because it isn’t fast food, I assumed that it couldn’t be bad for you. I also gained understanding on what processed foods can do to your body over the course of years. People in their mid-years or older age tend to get problems such as heart disease from bad decisions from when they were younger.

Initially I had no plans of changing my diet but I do understand it would benefit my body. I tend to be sluggish and energy deprived, and I wondered if a better diet would change that. Over the next month, I plan on switching out foods for better alternatives to see what they do to me. 

Diabetes, obesity, heart disease, and more are common killers in America. We’re known to be greedy and it shows. I don’t want to become another statistic, so I plan on changing that.

Chapter 1

Eighty-nine. One year closer to death, one year away from the big nine-oh. Another birthday alone, but that’s alright, I’m used to it. Richard sent a card in the mail, no money in it of course. I knew I raised a cheap ass. You’d think after raising a bastard on your own and giving him everything you could, he’d be kind enough to put a damn dollar  in your card.

It’s fine though, I’m alright on my own. There’s no nuisances to get on my damn nerves, besides these nerve-wrecking kids always screaming outside my window. But other than that, being alone is quite peaceful. Who needs anyone? Not me. Shit. 

I’ve been living on my own, cooking on my own, washing my ass on my own, taking pills on my own, I can do anything a 20 year old can. Speaking of which, I better fill this prescription before I lay croaking on the ground.

“Dave & Brother’s Pharmacy. Please hold.” 

10 minutes later and I’m  still on hold. Boy, I tell ya, people can’t run a damn business to save their lives.

“ Hello, how can I help you?” The receptionist asked.

“I’d like to fill a prescription for Atripla for delivery. ” I said. 

“ And your name please?”

 “Helen Jackson.” 

“ Okay Mrs. Jackson, your prescription should be ready within a few hours. We’ll send it out for delivery as soon as we can.” she said.

I didn’t even feel like correcting her on the “Mrs.” Instead I just hung up. Well now that that’s out the way, I can relax and enjoy my birthday. Watch a little t.v., lay down, maybe even order some Chinese food. The doctor says it’s not good for me, but I’m 89. I gotta die somehow.

Now if only I could find the number. I know I had the menu lying around here somewhere.  Maybe in the kitchen?

These steps are becoming more and more of a hassle for me. And this damn cat isn’t helping.

“Move Mittens!” I yelled.

 And in that very moment, the damn cat clawed at my foot, leaving me to tumble to the steps. I hit my head pretty hard and began seeing a white light. Then, I saw myself, lying at the bottom of the steps with blood dripping down my head. Wait, how am I out of my own body? I can’t be dead. Or can I?

How can this happen? I’m in complete shock. This can’t be real. 

Chapter 2 

Okay, after 25 minutes of trying to understanding what the hell is happening, there’s no other answer; I’m dead. Lord knows how long it’ ll be until someone finds my body. Who comes to check on me? 

And why am I not in heaven? I thought the Bible said “Absent from the body is present with the Lord.”  Wait, I have to be buried first. I forgot all about that “dust to dust, ashes to ashes, back in the Earth” mess. 

Hours and hours pass, and I continue to watch my lifeless, limp body lie on the floor. Of course the cat is walking all over me. I knew I should’ve got rid of it a long time ago. 

After so much silence, I finally hear the doorbell. I went to see who was there, well not “me” but, my ghost or whatever the hell I am right now. It was a man holding a bag. He had on a uniformed shirt, and after struggling so hard to see what it said, I finally knew.

“Dave & Brothers’ Pharmacy.”

He rang the door and even knocked a few times. I tried to answer it, and my arm went right through the door. He left a note on the door, then walked away, and drove off.

Another hour or so passed, when the doorbell rang again. This time, it was Richard. I haven’t seen him in months, so this was a shock. Then again, it is my birthday, so I can’t be too much of shock. He rang the doorbell a while, and began screaming outside my house.

“MA! Open the door!” He exclaimed.

 After 15 minutes of trying to ‘wake me up’ to let him in, he left, but came right back. He left to get the spare key to my home. He opened the door, and walked right through me and found my lifeless body.

After 7 hours of lying on the floor, I was finally found. Richard held my cold body, crying and screaming.

“Wake up Ma, please,” He cried. “I need you.”

He called the paramedics and they pronounced me dead at 8:23 p.m. I saw them carry my body out in a body bag.  

Chapter 3 

Days later, it’s finally time for my funeral. I don’t see too many here but I didn’t expect many. I don’t see too many tears shedding either. Richard is shedding a tear here and there, but no one else. His kids are just sitting there on their damn phones. Can’t even show an ounce of respect. 

Listening to these remarks about me makes me want to jump out the damn casket and hit everyone. Suddenly, I was such a nice person? Yet I lived my remaining years by myself. 

“Now it’s time for the reading of the eulogy.” The Pastor said. “ Richard, if you will.” 

Skimming over the eulogy, I froze. Everything about my life was in there. everything. 

“ Helen Denise Jackson was born December 5, 1997 to Christina Jackson. Born with HIV, life wasn’t the easiest for her. She was told she wouldn’t live past her early 30‘s but she still managed to live until 89 years old.”

The small crowd clapped and cheered as Richard took a pause in reading.

“ She attended Lakewood High School and graduated in 2016. Then, she headed off to college at Xavier University, where she graduated with her Master’s and Bachelor’s degree. She never married, but did have many relationships through out her life.” 

That’s a damn lie. I can only name a handful of relationships. Every man left when he discovered my little secret. 

“In 2024, she decided to have an artificial insemination pregnancy where she had her only child, Richard Dwayne Jackson. Man, I was my momma’s baby boy, everyone knew that.”  Richard laughed. 

No you weren’t. You barely contacted me, Bastard. 

Richard focused back on the eulogy. 

“ Helen leaves behind one son: Richard, two grand kids: Dana and Tyler, a younger sister; Nyla Jackson, and a host of nieces, nephews, great grandchildren, and other loved ones. She never found love with a man, but she surely found love with the Lord.”

“Hallelujah!” a woman from the front row yelled. 

After remarks and all the other bullshit, it’s finally time for the burial. I hear the people chanting the prayer from the Book of Common prayer. 

“Dust to dust, ashes to ashes” 

When everyone left their flowers on my casket, I saw it being lowered into the ground. This was it. Once I’m buried, I’m going to Heaven- or Hell. 

Chapter 4

I opened my eyes and in front of me were two large golden gates. There wasn’t an aching bone in my body and all of my wrinkles had vanished. There were angels at the opened gate and I decided to walk through, or at least try, but the angels stopped me by blocking the entrance with their large wings.

“Why can’t I go through?” I asked.

They didn’t responded, but instead pointed behind me, which is where I saw a man.

“Hi. I’m your guardian angel.”  He said

“Oh well, hi.” I responded.

“I’m also your biological father.” 

My eyes has widened at him. I knew he wasn’t lying because my eyes were just like his.  But why was he younger than me?

“I died at 26 if you’re wondering why I’m so young. While you were in the womb, I was killed by a hit man. I didn’t even know your mother was pregnant ‘til I got here , or her name for that matter.” He laughed.

That could only mean one thing. she got pregnant while “working.” 

I just stared at him in shock.

“Listen, as of know you aren’t allowed in the gates of Heaven.” 

“WHAT?” I screamed. There was no way I was going to Hell.

“Why were you so bitter all of your life? Life is a gift that you misused, and now He doesn’t want you in his kingdom.”

My eyes swelled up with tears hearing this. “Being born with HIV is no joke. I never had real relationships because of it. Guys would always run off once they found out my secret. I had to artificially become pregnant for crying out loud! I wanted the experience to date and find love and be married, and I never had the chance too because of the fucking HIV. That’s why I’m so damn bitter.” 

“Well what if i told you you could live your life without the disease?”
“Then I wouldn’t be so bitter as you like to call it.” 

“You aren’t getting into the Gates with the attitude and life that you’ve lived so I’ll tell you what. Take this” he said, handing her a capsule. “It’ll reset your life, no disease, no nothing. If you live this life like He intended, then you’ll be invited into the Gates of Heaven.” 

I never been so ecstatic. “Thank you!” I cried. I’d finally had the chance to be normal. 

Chapter 5

“Push Push Push Push!” the doctors screamed. 

“One more push Christina, you can do it!” 

I felt a gust of air and a bunch of light hit my face, and I instantly began screaming.

“It’s a baby girl!” 

I still was screaming. 

“I’ll name her Helen” she said . “Helen Denise Jackson.” 

And here I am, only a few minutes old, looking forward to a live without HIV.

Journal#1 

“Now will I question Cassio of Bianca,

A huswife that by selling her desires

Buys herself bread and clothes. It is a creature

That dotes on Cassio, as ’tis the strumpet’s plague

To beguile many and be beguiled by one.

He, when he hears of her, cannot refrain

From the excess of laughter. Here he comes.” 

In this soliloquy, Iago can be talking to a matter of two different audiences. He could actually be talking directly to the audience, since it is a play. Shakespeare could’ve made it almost like where Iago knows he is in play, and is able to actually have some sort of contact with the audience, but then again that is a new play concept and might not have been around during that time. A more reasonable person(s) he could’ve been talking to is himself. Iago is very deceitful and could have just been devising the whole plan aloud. Othello was still present in the room (although he was in hiding) so he could have been whispering to himself. He was smart enough not to  let Othello hear. Therefore, I’ll stick with my response that his audience was himself as well as the readers of the book.

Journal #2 

Cassio is an obvious character of importance in Shakepeare's Othello, considering the fact that Iago uses him as the scapegoat. In Act 2, Scene 3, Cassio realizes that he was fired by Othello (after being drunk)  and goes to Iago in hope that he will help him get to the Moor to get his job back. Cassio observes Iago being supportive of him getting his job back. Iago is telling him that wine isn't bad for him but is in fact good for him and that he just went a little overboard. Iago also tells him  that he's not a drunk and Othello knows that. Cassio eats up everything that Iago says and believes that the Moor will be forgiving to him, but he didn’t realize that he had just fell into Iago’s trap. Iago told him that he must go to Desdemona since she is a woman and has an open heart, and he does just as he was told .He knows that his reputation (or at least the one that Othello knows) is ruined, but he also knows that Othello is crazy about Desdemona and that he’d listen to her over him. I believe this scene proves that Cassio is gullible, because through out the whole booked he was fooled.

Journal #3 

Cassio has been in love with Bianca for two years and counting, or so we thought? Cassio had a journal under his bed that absolutely no one knew about until Desdemona found it one day while in his room looking for him. In it, she read words that she’d never thought she would. “The Moor is questioned by her, being my heart. Are’t he belongings of Desdemona, or shall my heart want him to be mine?” (translation: My heart questions my feelings for the Moor. I know he’s Desdemona’s man, but I think I want him to be mine.) Desdemona was stunned at what she saw, but at the same time she wasn’t too surprised. Now she understood why he loved Othello so much and why he was such a kiss up but she didn’t tell because she knew what would happen to a man who was gay at this time.She didn’t see Cassio as a threat to her, so she kept her little secret to herself.

Journal #4 

In my previous journal, I said that Cassio was homosexual but the only person who knew was Desdemona. I will be portraying him as slightly feminine and crying when Bianca leave him because she suspects him cheating. Also I will portray him as gullible, because in journal 1 stated that I believed he was gullible since Iago was against him the whole time. I will do this by laughing and seeming to take Iago as a joke when he jokingly asks me about what I do with Bianca, although Othello believe I’m talking about his Desdemona. As for my costume, I plan to take a beard and mustache to my face. In case you didn’t realize,I’m a female. I want it to be clear that I’m playing a male and for some reason it’s just the way I picture Cassio. I think I will do a pretty good job portraying Cassio, but overall I think my group will do well too. Bianca’s prop is really a sight to see! (she has money coming out of all of her clothing.) Also, i think Cassio (My) reaction to Bianca leaving him will be slightly amusing to the class. I’m pretty sure that my group will nail it!

Journal #5

Cassio: How now my sweet Bianca! How now? How now?

I wasn’t sure as to how Cassio was feeling when he said this line and although he isn’t too much stated in this quote, the emotion behind it is what matters. When accuses Bianca accuses him of cheating (indirectly) then this quote follows  it. He was in a state of confusion when she accused him of it. His state of confusion seems like it should’ve negatively effected Iago’s plan but it didn’t. Othello didn’t notice the confusion because of his anger, but if he would’ve I believe it would’ve made him realize even sooner that he was being deceived. 

Since I was playing Cassio, I acted as if I was in a confused state as I thought it should be portrayed. My group’s performance overall went exactly how it was planned. My group had difficulties working together and getting everyone to cooperate, but I’m proud because at the end EVERYONE cooperated and got their lines down packed as well as brought in the props or costumes needed. If I could re-do my scene I would delete all of my laughter on stage. I get slightly awkward when in front of an audience so I think I should’ve just practiced more in front of people. As for my group members, I believe they did a wonderful job and I would not change anything about their performances.

After performing the play, I felt like I had just got out of the book. I had a first person understanding of the book rather than just reading it in third person. I understood the characters actions, emotions, and motives much more than I did. We (my group) spend plenty of time analyzing each part of our scene and with the help of Ms. Pahomov and Aaron, I believe we captured the exact image of each character (well at least the exact image we wanted to portray.) Overall, I just feel that I got a first hand understanding of the book because I truly felt like  I was apart of the book for that short period of time.

 Growing up is never the easiest for anyone, especially if you're different. Kids are unintentionally cruel. Imagine coming from another country, not knowing anything about its culture. Well , here with me now is Richard Yoeun, who moved to America with his parents when he was only 2. He had a few years before school started to learn english, but his parents did not teach it to him that well. They still wanted their native culture to stick to their son. When school started for him, things were more difficult than he expected. This is Richards story on belonging to one culture, but having to fit into a new culture as well.

Originally from Cambodia, Richard immigrated to The United States at the age of two with his parents, who wanted a better life. A few years went by, and his family was doing pretty good for an newly immigrated family, at least financially. Socially, his family was an outcast. "They couldn't speak very good english, so they couldn't even teach me", he said.  Time went by and next thing you know, Richard had to go to school. He still knew very little english, so he had to learn in school ,when all the other kids already knew it. Just like his family, he was an outcast, and had to steadily learn the American Culture while keeping his Cambodian culture. to 

As Richard continued to learn the American culture, he surpassed his parents' "American culture knowledge". He began teaching them everything he learned, yet he still wasn't as fluent in the language as he could be.  As he entered middle school, he was bullied for not being "normal" , whatever that is . He couldn't say each and every word like the rest of the kids could. Kids aren't used to variety, so being different could lead to bullying. He wasn't able to even practice english at home unless he was teaching his parents. He was in a "No English" household. Just because he was learning one culture didn't mean he could forget the other and his parents made sure that he didn't.  He home was a traditional Cambodian home, where he would speak Khmer, not english. And through all of this, he was still bullied for years in middle school although he was trying his hardest to fit in.

Has Richard's constant years of struggling with two cultures put him to same of one of them? or maybe even both?

"I love having two cultures," Richard says, " It makes me different." Instead of trying to fit in now, he's embraced it. He's at his expected level of english and khmer as well. He still continues to live in a "No English" household and keeps both of his cultures close to him.

Being double cultured has its ups and downs. Adjusting to new cultures can be difficult. Home, school, being social. These are all adaptations that take time to get used to. Richard's struggle was in school and although he was given hell for having two cultures, he is not ashamed of it. He's 16 now , so he doesn't have to deal with immature kids teasing him because he is Cambodian. Older and slightly wiser , he accepts both of his cultures and wishes to continue to pass both down to his children .

For the most part, I talk just like those around me, never really had a language barrier. My friends accept the way I talk and so do I, but my parents seem to have another outlook on it.

"Hey mommy, can I have some of your juice?"

"Are you forgetting something?"

"Mom, can I PLEASE have some of your juice?"

"It's not can, it's may." she replies.

"Mom, MAY I PLEASE have some of your  juice?"

"There we go."

They do not speak the most proper grammar and have their slang on certain words, but it's nothing in comparison to how I speak. 

"Old Slang" is what they like to call it. Because my slang is actually present day and not from the '70's, it's "not acceptable" . I didn't grow up in their time and that's what they fail to realize. Anything I say that is slang or a word that may not be found in the Webster's dictionary is "foolish" or "sounds stupid" but it's just how I talk. 

I never grew up speaking the best english because as a child they never corrected me. They waited until I was older and already comfortable with how I spoke to address what they believe is a problem. I see it as them trying to change me . I mean, I talk to a point where it's understandable to practically anyone. Can't that just be enough?

Besides my parents never correcting me, I also went to predominantly black schools in West Philly. With that being said, it can only get so proper. These schools  "attempted" to force proper english upon me with english/grammar classes yet they spoke around us (students) with the least bit of properness. It seems as if I grew up being taught that properness in language was only there to impress, and doesn’t have to be present every conversation. Even currently in high school, properness is seen in essays that I write. I guess that it’s understandable since I’m gonna have to write formal papers in the future such as resumés. But it isn’t forced to make me talk like I’m going to the White House or dinner with an ambassador all the time. 

Around my friends, I don't care to impress and that's why when it comes to language, I don't care as to how proper I sound. To us , slang is like “future english”. So many words that were once addressed as slang are now in the dictionary.  As slang spreads pass neighborhoods and gets a definite definition, it is capable of becoming a word in the Oxford or Webster dictionary .

Even the slang that parents do not seem to approve of may not be in an well known dictionary there has been a dictionary created just for slang and the terms that are being used in this day and age. It called Urban Dictionary (online dictionary). Slang may not be respected by those who are older but the younger generation has been raised around all of the slang and will rarely listen to the proper way that they are suppose to speak because it may not sound correct. 

"Nigga, pass me that jawn next to ya. Nah, not that, the apple juice, dumb ass."

Any and everything can and will be said. It's just how I act around them. I'm comfortable enough with them to hear me talk freely without putting a load of thought into the wording of the statement rather than the content.  

Parents don’t accept the slang we use because in some ways they may find it disrespectful to talk to people with some of the things that we use with the people in our generation. Most parents were brought up with knowing how to speak proper and not being allowed to use profanity or many slang terms with the people that they were around or anyone at all. Parents really may have a problem with the slang and profanity because it can make the person using it look bad as well as it may make their family look bad, because people would think that at home the child using this slang and profanity wasn’t taught the proper way to speak to people at home and may have little or no home training. Parents also may not like the slang and profanity that children use in this day and age because it doesn’t make sense and they may have no clue on it means and wouldn’t know if it is a good or bad term. Also parents don’t like it because if you get to used to something you will use it at all times and parents want their children to talk to adults with respect . If they are always using profanity and slang then they may forget to try and use the proper and respectful language that they were taught to talk to an adult, and if an adult feels disrespected then they may want to take it out on the parent and start an argument due to the way that the child talked to them. 

I understand my mom’s concern for my language, but majority of my language isn’t even profanity, more so just slang. Of course I know how to code switch between my slang  and my proper language, but I don’t understand why my language is expected to be “perfect” at all times. Around my parents, I expect to be comfortable enough to express myself without a chain on my thoughts, not letting me use certain words that aren’t even near profanity. 

“You’re not going to make it out in this world talking like that,”  they said. 

My language is what molded me into who I am today and I’m proud of it if I say so myself. They act as if I’m not going to achieve anything in life just because of my slang, even though I have control over it . Slang surrounds everyone, everywhere and my parents seem to think that it is only me who uses it.  I will be successful, no matter what my language is, because my language is me . If my parents can't change my language, then they might as well accept it .

“change please?”

She acts like she ain’t got no change to spare .She got on some suit with a big bag and sunglasses ,living the life but can’t spare a damn dollar.

If I was her, I wouldn’t mind giving someone a helping hand

I mean-

“excuse me sir but do you have a dollar to spare?”

That bastard knows damn well he heard me too. I interrupted my own thoughts just to talk to him. Him and that lady can rot in hell.

 I could be like them too if it wasn’t for being born into poverty. I could’ve made something of myself to. Oh hell.. who am i kidding? I’m only Emmit Perry Jr.. 

The guy who sits outside on 16th and Chestnut

‘til the security “escorts” me to leave.

If I had just a few dollars,I know that I could do it.

“Change please?”

She did not just call me a dirty asshole.I know I’m better than that

So what I can’t afford that Gucci and Lucci shit that they wear. I’m still a person,

When my mom lost the house, I thought that we would simply go to a shelter til we get back on our feet

But now that she’s gone,who do I have?  Who’s willing to help me?

That’s what’s wrong with America now. Those who have everything, are willing to give nothing. 

And look who it is. Another homeless guy storming across the street to where I am. As if this is not my territory. I’m in need, he’s in need, hell, we’re all in need, just of all different things.

He keeps talking to me and drowning him out with my own thoughts is becoming harder and harder

“Why’d you give me this? I’m sure it’s taken you forever to get $10.”

Without an answer, he continued to walk as I followed him to the nearest alleyway.

Oh my god. well I damned. The homeless man is the same woman that walked by me and called me an asshole. She placed all of her disguise in her brief case and left out of the other side of the alleyway as if nothing ever happened. Now I have to make sure I’m careful with this, because this could be my last chance to be the person I wanna be.

“okay sir”  

I don’t even feel like giving the security any issues right now, so I’m just gonna walk til I find somewhere to sleep.