Pahomov's Sample Dystopia Short Story Post
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Larissa Pahomov Public Feed
Room Changes for Keystone Testing
If you have a class on the 5th floor this week, it will meet elsewhere!
Support the SLAmbassador Trips to Germany and Poland!
In 2019, the SLAmbassadors will be participating in two European exchange programs. In April of 2019, twelve students will travel to Frankfurt, Germany for our third annual exchange with Gymnasium Riedberg High School. And in October of 2019, ten students will travel to Torun, Poland for a weeklong exchange with students at Nicholas Copernicus High School.
The program is a part of Philadelphia’s Sister Cities initiative, and cost of activities abroad are mostly covered by the hosting schools. As a result, the cost of the flight is basically the cost of the trip – but many students cannot afford the ticket.
Can you sponsor a student for this year’s exchanges? No donation is too small - any amount would help their dreams of international travel come true!
Click here to donate via our Paypal Account!
Donors will receive personalized thank-you messages when we are traveling, so please choose to share your mailing address when you pay. If you are giving in the name of a specific student, please also let us know in the comment section of your donation!
Author Emulation Handbook: Margaret Atwood
Sister City Exchange with Frankfurt, Germany!
Ten SLA students are back home after a successful weeklong exchange in Frankfurt, Germany.
The new program was organized with the Sister Cities office of Philadelphia and government officials in Frankfurt. Students were paired with high schoolers at Gymnasium Riedberg, a bilingual high school with a focus on science and technology. They stayed with families, attended school, and participated in special programming put together for the visit.
The exchange was specifically designed to create intercultural understanding of the two cities, with programs to explore stereotypes of each nation and an interdisciplinary project where students explored the relationship between cities and personal memories. The participating students also were received by Frankfurt's deputy mayor at a formal reception at city hall, pictured above.
The ten students from Gymnasium Riedberg will round out the exchange by visiting Philadelphia in the fall. SLA students are hard at work planning the program and preparing for their guests!
Emulation Handbook: Kurt Vonnegut
Emulation Handbook: Kurt Vonnegut (sample)
Reader Profile: Ms. Pahomov
Ms. Pahomov hates it when strangers ask her “what book are you teaching in your English class right now?” Usually it means they want to just talk about what they liked to read (or not) in high school. When she was in high school, people told her she was a “fast reader,” and that was a bad thing for her, because she often read too quickly and missed the details. There are a lot of books she likes better now that she slowed down when reading, like “The Great Gatsby,” which she has probably read ten times at this point, each year when she teaches it. She is proud of the fact that she has the stamina for long books, but is more likely to carry around something that is 200 pages or less in her backpack.
One of the great sadnesses of her school year is that she uses so much of her brain to read and respond to student work that she has limited capacity to read on her own. She also recently discovered that she is old enough to have read books and COMPLETELY FORGOTTEN what they are about. Take, for example, the novel “Cat’s Cradle” by Kurt Vonnegut. She is certain she read it as a teen, but a student asked her about the plot recently and she couldn’t remember a thing. She is a little bit worried that this represents the rest of her life: forgetting things and having to go back to them.
One of her great joys of the school year is when she gets to read alongside her students in class. Her plan is to re-read “Cat’s Cradle” as soon as she finishes “Bone” by Fae Myenne Ng. The hardest time for her to read is on a plane or train. She always tells herself that she will, but she’d much rather listen to music and look out the window. She is a little bit ashamed of the fact that she never reads in German anymore, although she can. Never enough time!
Reader Profile: Ms. Pahomov
Ms. Pahomov hates it when strangers ask her “what book are you teaching in your English class right now?” Usually it means they want to just talk about what they liked to read (or not) in high school. When she was in high school, people told her she was a “fast reader,” and that was a bad thing for her, because she often read too quickly and missed the details. There are a lot of books she likes better now that she slowed down when reading, like “The Great Gatsby,” which she has probably read ten times at this point, each year when she teaches it. She is proud of the fact that she has the stamina for long books, but is more likely to carry around something that is 200 pages or less in her backpack.
One of the great sadnesses of her school year is that she uses so much of her brain to read and respond to student work that she has limited capacity to read on her own. She also recently discovered that she is old enough to have read books and COMPLETELY FORGOTTEN what they are about. Take, for example, the novel “Cat’s Cradle” by Kurt Vonnegut. She is certain she read it as a teen, but a student asked her about the plot recently and she couldn’t remember a thing. She is a little bit worried that this represents the rest of her life: forgetting things and having to go back to them.
One of her great joys of the school year is when she gets to read alongside her students in class. Her plan is to re-read “Cat’s Cradle” as soon as she finishes “Bone” by Fae Myenne Ng. The hardest time for her to read is on a plane or train. She always tells herself that she will, but she’d much rather listen to music and look out the window. She is a little bit ashamed of the fact that she never reads in German anymore, although she can. Never enough time!
Challenge Week Film Festival Winners!
Congratulations to the three winning teams of SLA's first-ever Challenge Week Film Festival. Students from Gold and Silver Streams were tasked with creating a three-minute documentary film in just three days. Here's the prompt they had to answer:
Tell the truth about your neighborhood.
Special thanks to the media facilitators from the University Community Collaborative at Temple University, who came to train participants at the start of the challenge. We couldn't have done it without you!
First Place: Kensington
Sam Dennis, Hannah Layton, Johnny Saldivar, Charles Velazquez, Taytiana Velazquez-Rivera
Second Place: West Philadelphia
Ajanae Mills, Arielle Moore, Jevon Price, TK Saccoh, Sandra Watson
Third Place: Bella Vista
Jhazzelle Majarucon, Israh Mohammed, Destiny Patton, Sopheary Sok
Audience Choice: Mayfair
Laith Abuhartheith, Ijustice Avery, Conor Meier, Tia Roberts, Alex Torres
Support SLAMedia -- Get a Magazine Subscription!
To all members of the SLA community:
SLAMedia -- the school's student journalism group -- is thrilled to present the first issue of their print magazine!
The website version of SLAMedia has existed for a long time, but students this year decided to branch out into print media as well. This edition includes reporting and photography on both local and global events. Read the latest student editorial, and check out the photo spread profiling SLA's Muslim community. Don't miss the quiz on the inside back cover!
The entire process of putting the magazine together was a real joy, but to keep it going we need your support. A $20 donation will help sustain the printing into next year and beyond. As a thank you, we'll send you every issue we put out next year, either mailed directly to your home or delivered via your child who attends the school. We hope to put out three issues in the next school year... of course, more donations means more funding for publication! And the first 25 people who donate this year will get a copy of our inaugural issue as well, being distributed around school this wee.
Use the Paypal link below to donate today, and we'll be in touch about which delivery method would be best. Make sure to include your email address when you donate!
Women End Up Wearing the Pants
Comparing The Taming of the Shrew” to “ The Back up Plan”
By Jamira Terrell
In “The Taming of the Shrew,” it is proven that romantic love within relationships is mainly controlled by men and the desire to possess the other person. In “Shrew,” Petruchio swears that he can have his way with Katherine no matter what she wants. In contrast, Zoe from “The Back-up Plan” takes on the “manly” role and becomes the possessive and dominant one within the relationship.
Zoe in the movie; reflects Petruchio from “Shrew” because she is the dominant character just like Petruchio in the play. They share some of the same key roles, emotions, tactics, and determination to gain what they want within their relationship. Throughout the movie, Zoe gains the support of her friends because they know how badly she wants to have a baby, likewise, Petruchio also gains the support of his friends. Also, the romantic relationships within “Shrew” and “The Back-Up Plan” were both forced. Zoe did not like Steve in the beginning of their relationship; instead,she wanted him for one reason to be able to have his baby. Although there are many similarities, Zoe, unlike Katherine, actually has feelings for Steve once she grows closer to him. Likewise, Petruchio was pursuing Katherine, whereas Zoe was pursuing Steve, until a change of events when Steve messes up and he ends up chasing after her. The differences allow for a peaked interest in both scenarios;Allowing the viewer to see that women have accessible power and control either equal or more than men these days. But at the end of the day, both parties in the situations must maintain the same love for each other in order for the relationship to be deemed a romance.
“I am ashamed that women are so simple to offer war where they should kneel for peace, or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway when they are bound to serve, love and obey.”
-Katherine, (Act 5, Scene 2, Line 177-180)
In this part of Katherine’s speech, given after a bet that was placed, she is explaining women’s loyalty to their men. The bet placed was to see who’s woman would come to them first when summoned. Being as though Katherine was not only the first, but only woman to come when called, Petruchio won the bet. Katherine was surprised at the fact the other women did not adhere to the needs of their partner. In her speech Katherine emphasizes the notion that women should surrender to their man and everything that they do should be in benefit of him; what he wants, he gets. In the time period of this play, it was imperative that women remain inferior and passive within relationships or else, the would not make good wives. From little, girls were raised knowing that they not only should get married, but were obligated to, and there would be no marriage without a form of loyalty.
Zoe finds herself in a similar situation as she tries to explain to Steve what her plan is for their future, but at the same time how she does not plan to fall in love with him but yet, they go their separate ways.
In this scene from "The Back-Up Plan," Zoe nervously explains to Steve that her future plans are to fall in love, get married, and have a baby, but not necessarily in that order. More like, have a baby, get married, and fall in love. Throughout the movie, Zoe is always anxious and nervous about every little thing she does. She is afraid, that something, or someone, may mess up her plan to have a baby, unlike Petruchio, who in the movie knows exactly how his plan is going to work and doesn’t fear that anything will mess that up for him.
"It's awful, awful, awful. Then a small moment happens, that's so magical. That makes it all worthwhile."- Steve
Steve tries to kindly get Zoe to understand that certain things in life can not be forced. It is all catalyzed by a small event. Knowing that Zoe is worried that, because she is getting older, she will no longer be able to carry a baby for much longer, he tries to console her by letting her know that things will happen at the least expected times. Although, Petruchio and Katherine seem to not agree. Given that Petruchio is forcing what he wants within a relationship, and Katherine has to abide; same way that Zoe is forcing what she wants and Steve has to abide.
“Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper, thy head, thy sovereign, one that cares for thee, and for thy maintenance commits his body to painful labor both by sea and land…”
Katherine, (Act 5, Scene 2, Line 162-170)
Towards the end of the play, Katherine gives a speech devoting herself to Petruchio. She knows and accepts the fact the her husband, being a man that he his, has the right to control her and have complete dominance over her. This is an attribute that she becomes accustomed to, so much that she believes that her love and obedience to Petruchio is not even enough to thank him for the role he plays in her life; dominant and superior. She ends by saying “Too little payments for such a debt.”
In conclusion, both the movie and play prove that love and relationship are controlled by the desire to possess the other, but it does contrast the idea that dominance is not only a role that men play. In the end of the movie, Zoe ends up with twin babies, falling in love with a man that she never thought twice about, and having a grand wedding. Petruchio, at the end of the play, wins over Katherine and her loyalty to him. Both the movie and play end just the way the protagonists anticipated; with love, loyalty, and feeling of accomplishment.
Myi Harte: Untitled
There are days that I feel that I’m not really here. Like I'm looking through a still pond out the eyes of someone else. Or I feel that i'm just not brave enough to deal with my own problems, so I lock my emotion away, that way it hurts less when things happen. I put my headphones in and just focus on the words, trying to play over my thoughts and problems like they aren’t there. "I will not be forgotten.This is my time to shine. I've got the scars to prove it. Only the strong survive. I'm not afraid of dying. Everyone has their time. Life never favored weakness. Welcome to the pride". “Yeah, why you believing the propaganda?
Why everybody sound like they wanna be from Atlanta? Are you the voice or the echo? Are you the nail or the hammer? I be talking while chewing my beats, I don't mind my manners. Choruses that fit the opera, that's why I need phantoms. I got my doubt at gunpoint, that's why I need ransoms. I find it much easier to zone out then to have to be there, to say it in other words just a machine that has a job to do and it gets it done.
There are time that I try to fix my mind on one thing saying that this is way I don’t need to show or have my emotions get in the way of my work. Sometimes it’s get to hard to be in that zone and I just feel like I just there for no reason only for the one that I put in my head, join the army have no fear and no emotion just get the job done and don't asks too many question and I'll be good.
At times that is the only thing that goes through my head day after day or something more on the line of I'm an athlete so I can keep on working and working and I'll be fine. I work hard I’ll be placed at the top so I don’t care about the pain or what I have to give up. I just did to remember don't give up on. Even if I pass my goal I still give it my all.
every day I go to the gym or find a way to get my body ready to join the army one of the things on my mind that’s a target. So when I walk up it’s early I get out of bed that a deep breather and get right into the work, Max lunges, squats, calf raise, push-ups,crunches, burpees, mountain climbers, flutter kick, cherry pickers, and others that I want to do that day, Times I want to make up a challenge for myself so I do, so like the “1000”, You start with “500” the day before you pick 5 workouts you want to do and do a 100 for all five. Then the next day you pick 10 and do a 100 of each. while doing a workout I can really say that I'm pushing myself to get something done. Also when I work out it get me to think about the physical pain not mental, so when I get tired it’s easy to forget about it.
Other times in my life I have days where I just don't like being in one place and need to be on the move so I spend time just walking around the city or biking. I do it just to clear my mind if I feel like i've lost my way and need to try to get that light that I held back in my life. When I walk by windows I look at myself but it doesn't feel like I'm looking back at me or it’s not really me on the other side. Most times that I look at my reflection I see something that would only make sense in my dreams. Something that I would see myself doing but on a whole different level, something way passed what I can do so I act like it need had and keep moving on thinking that I don't need my emotion they only get in my way and slow me down.
there’s just days that I can go to school and ya have a good time with people around me but at the end of the day it’s just me in my head and a lot of emptiness. so I just deal with it, true that my family tells me they got my back so I plan it off and put on a smile because it’s the only thing that gets people to stop and just shut up but at the end of the day when I set in my room aint no one there but my other half. I has me feeling that it’s the person I want to be but can never get close enough so I just give up because it;s really the only thing in life I’m good at.
Times I write down what I need to remember a feel just so I can remember the plan the loss or the sadness that I felt. Times I write not just the bad but the good, just in my book that I tell many not to look at or we just done, I don't speak to them I block them from everything I don't care even if they step right in front of me they get run down and when they say something or other say something about it I just say I don't care.
(The book Yellow birds"His life had been entirely contingent, like a body in orbit, only seen on account of the way it wobbles around its star.It says that his life was something that he didn't really have control of he just was there unable to do what he wanted to do. so when he looked inside of himself he saw nothing but a single light. so there was something that he cared for that held he in place in his own place, and sometimes he would lose sight of it or start to let it go that's way it says on the account of the way it wobbles around. As he tried to make something or try to change his ways that was like a wobble in his life
"They carried the sky. The whole atmosphere, they carried it, the humidity, the monsoons, the stink of fungus and decay, all of it, they carried gravity.” this quote makes it sound like the soldier had not just the weight of their equipment but the weight of everyone that they had ever meet and more. looking inside theyself that might have come to the same thing and that was there drive even as they saw one another death. To hold the sky it to be the ones that protect it and the people under it. they had to stand up against the heat. have to fight something from the ground was like they trying to fight the demon inside of them but they knew they had to do it. the water that they had to cross over. so the demon in they might have had they think about running away but they had nowhere to run but in to a battle that they were submerged in. they had to go through death and the smell of their falling friends and brother and the bodies of their enemy’s. then the last part they carried gravity itself to me that’s like helping other move on and get through anything that was to hard for them himself to go through and that take and sound mind and body to get that job done.This is what people in the army have to go through every day think about not only him/herself and what they themselves are going through but have to put that to the side to get the job done to keep their friends and family safe from whatever it is. Also that it’s not easy to look at what's under a human, somewhere deep down there is a demon inside and to fight it.
I just feel that once my body fails me and I can move forwards then it’s over for me that’s why I put so much in to my sports and workouts. I’ll still keep working on getting to a higher rep that’s why I don't have a set number to get to I go till I can’t them move on to the next workout.
The Boundaries of What You Know
Dear students, put yourself in my shoes:
In February, you get rear-ended on your bicycle and end up in the hospital. You’re not seriously injured, but the doctors come to you before they release you to let you know: They found something strange in your CT scan, you’ve got a lesion in your left hip. What’s a lesion, exactly? You know that a lesion on skin is a kind of wound. What does it mean when you have a lesion in your bone?
Two days later, an oncologist at Penn explains: it’s a tumor. No, it’s probably not cancer. But whatever it is, it’s slowly eating your bone from the inside out. You’re going to need a biopsy to figure out what it is, and whatever it is will have to come out sooner or later, or else your left femur is going to turn to mush.
If this all sounds a little foreign, imagine how I felt sitting on the examination table, trying to take notes on a whole lot of concepts I had never heard before. I mean that literally -- I had a notebook with questions I had dutifully writing down before the appointment. And sure, I wrote down the answers to what I thought to ask.
But that encounter was the very beginning of what I would come to understand over the next year: I knew almost nothing about what was going on with my body, and even less about what treatment and recovery would be like in the next months.
Here’s a brief summary of what the medical interventions were like.
The Biopsy. You take a day off work to go to the hospital, and get put in something called “twilight anaesthesia,” where you’re awake but not really in touch with reality. They then put you in a CT scanner so they can spot exactly where the tumor is, and extract a sample with a long needle. At the end, you have to hang out for a few more hours to make sure the narcotics have worn off. Your husband volunteers to get you food from the cafeteria, which is great because you haven’t eaten anything in twelve hours.
The Pre-Surgery Meetings. Turns out you have Giant Cell Tumor, which is exactly what it sounds like: the cells are getting really big, which means they are getting soft, which means you will have a collapsed femur one of these days if the malignant cells aren’t removed. You set a date for surgery and meet the anaesthesiologist. “Do you have any problem with transfusions?” He asks. No… but which religion does, again? And then all of a sudden you are talking about the amazing blood recycling machines that they use Jehovah’s Witnesses.
The Surgery. You go to the hopsital at 5AM. Your husband kisses you goodbye at 6. Another couple is parting ways at the elevator. The woman in the other bed is crying, a little. You’re not crying. A part of you judges her for crying. The other part of you thinks, what does she know that I don’t? The medical residents spend a lot of time looking for a vein they can see. The surgeon initials your hip with a sharpie. This is one of many times they ask you to confirm exactly where they are going to cut. The OR room itself looks kind of like an alien examination room, except it’s very well lit and they’re playing Justin Timberlake. Everybody seems like they’re in a good mood. “It’s Monday morning,” they tell you, “and we like our jobs.” They give you some warm blankets, and that’s the last thing you remember.
The Post-Surgery Follow-Up. Two weeks after the surgery, you go back to the surgeon’s office. You’ve followed all the instructions: take pain meds when needed, change the dressing on your incision every three days, shower but don’t scrub at the staples. You lay down on your side and the physician’s assistant uses pliers to pull them out and drop them in a small metal tin. Click, click, click. This, strangely, is the first thing that has hurt more than you will expect it to. At first you try and count the number but after a while you just focus on breathing. Once it’s done, she shows you the x-ray of your new titanium-enhanced femur. “It looks great, healing well,” she says, only you don’t really hear her because you and your husband are just staring at the X-Ray. What is that, you think. I had no idea it would look like that.
This sounds like the end of the story, but really it was the beginning. A new beginning where I was everything that I used to be, except now I was also a member of a rare disease club, a survivor of major surgery, and the owner of an implant. I posted the X-ray image on Facebook. “You’re bionic!” My friends cheered. I started going to physical therapy, slept a lot, and was cautiously optimistic I would be able to ditch my cane by the time school started in September.
This was foolhardy. But it reflected my mindset at the time: this was a thing that would pass, it would be difficult and then I would go back to being “my old self.”
I’d like to say that I disposed of this mindset quickly, but I actually clung to it even as my condition worsened. Going back to work was a relief, because I had something to do, but the muscles in my left leg did not agree. I wanted to act like everything was fine, but walking became a real ordeal, and I spent many hours between classes face down on Siswick’s couch with an ice pack wedged into my hip joint. Despite this, I thought it would be a good idea to go to a black tie event in New York and wear high heels. I paid for that for weeks.
According to my surgeon, everything looked fine -- no tumor recurrence, no messed up implant--which in a way was even more frustrating, because there was no definitive explanation why my body wasn’t playing nice. It just wasn’t. The worst was the occasional muscle spasm -- kind of like a charlie horse, but faster and more intense. My whole leg would seize up and I would just have to wait it out. Speaking was not really an option when these happened. The first time one hit me, I had just stood up on the bus to get off at 22nd and Chestnut, to go to school.
As the bus slowed for the stop, I started to panic: I can’t move right now, and I can’t really ask for help. What if the bus passes my stop? The thought of having to shuffle down an extra block to work was almost worse than the muscle spasm.
It was around this time last year that my juniors were reading “The Things They Carried” and we were talking about how you convey a unique experience to others. They all knew I was still recovering from surgery. One class in particular was good about telling me to sit down already when I kept walking around to work with them.
I tried my hand at explaining the phenomenon of the muscle spasms. “Have you ever seen those videos of hot lava, once it’s flowed away from the volcano? How the lava cools on the surface, but you can see it slowly shifting around underneath that surface?”
They nodded their heads.
“Well, it feels like that.”
I got a lot of shocked stares. “You mean, it feels like your muscles are on fire?”
Well… not exactly. I tried a different approach.
“Who in this room has some kind of metal implant in their body?”
To my mild surprise, several kids raised their hands. One had a few screws in his hand. Another had scoliosis as a child, and now had a rod in her back.”
“And, can you feel it?”
“Yeah, of course. If I twist really quickly I can feel it bump up against my spine.”
This got even more weird looks from classmates, and a couple of gasps. The student and I shrugged at each other.
So, what’s the point of this story?
I still haven’t really figured out how to explain to people what it’s like to have your body get used to a foreign object. I am still saying, on occasion, “I wish I could have you feel what this feels like.” Not to take the pain off of my hands, but just so someone could get it.
And yet: I’ve come to realize that one of the strange gifts of this whole experience is that I get it, with “it” being many kinds of physical trauma. I know how to coach someone through physical therapy that takes months. I can commiserate with new moms who have had an epidural, because I got one after my surgery. And when a close friend of mine had to get bone surgery herself, on her hand, I was there when she woke up in the hospital, there to tell her that the pain would pass eventually.
So it’s not so much that I am seeking to explain to people what this experience is like. It’s more that if and when they come into it themselves, I am here to greet them and help them make sense of what on earth is going on. I have a small lead on them, but I am still figuring it out myself. Which is kind of the point: I am still me, because I am still building who that person is.
The Boundaries of What You Know
Dear students, put yourself in my shoes:
In February, you get rear-ended on your bicycle and end up in the hospital. You’re not seriously injured, but the doctors come to you before they release you to let you know: They found something strange in your CT scan, you’ve got a lesion in your left hip. What’s a lesion, exactly? You know that a lesion on skin is a kind of wound. What does it mean when you have a lesion in your bone?
Two days later, an oncologist at Penn explains: it’s a tumor. No, it’s probably not cancer. But whatever it is, it’s slowly eating your bone from the inside out. You’re going to need a biopsy to figure out what it is, and whatever it is will have to come out sooner or later, or else your left femur is going to turn to mush.
If this all sounds a little foreign, imagine how I felt sitting on the examination table, trying to take notes on a whole lot of concepts I had never heard before. I mean that literally -- I had a notebook with questions I had dutifully writing down before the appointment. And sure, I wrote down the answers to what I thought to ask.
But that encounter was the very beginning of what I would come to understand over the next year: I knew almost nothing about what was going on with my body, and even less about what treatment and recovery would be like in the next months.
Here’s a brief summary of what the medical interventions were like.
The Biopsy. You take a day off work to go to the hospital, and get put in something called “twilight anaesthesia,” where you’re awake but not really in touch with reality. They then put you in a CT scanner so they can spot exactly where the tumor is, and extract a sample with a long needle. At the end, you have to hang out for a few more hours to make sure the narcotics have worn off. Your husband volunteers to get you food from the cafeteria, which is great because you haven’t eaten anything in twelve hours.
The Pre-Surgery Meetings. Turns out you have Giant Cell Tumor, which is exactly what it sounds like: the cells are getting really big, which means they are getting soft, which means you will have a collapsed femur one of these days if the malignant cells aren’t removed. You set a date for surgery and meet the anaesthesiologist. “Do you have any problem with transfusions?” He asks. No… but which religion does, again? And then all of a sudden you are talking about the amazing blood recycling machines that they use Jehovah’s Witnesses.
The Surgery. You go to the hopsital at 5AM. Your husband kisses you goodbye at 6. Another couple is parting ways at the elevator. The woman in the other bed is crying, a little. You’re not crying. A part of you judges her for crying. The other part of you thinks, what does she know that I don’t? The medical residents spend a lot of time looking for a vein they can see. The surgeon initials your hip with a sharpie. This is one of many times they ask you to confirm exactly where they are going to cut. The OR room itself looks kind of like an alien examination room, except it’s very well lit and they’re playing Justin Timberlake. Everybody seems like they’re in a good mood. “It’s Monday morning,” they tell you, “and we like our jobs.” They give you some warm blankets, and that’s the last thing you remember.
The Post-Surgery Follow-Up. Two weeks after the surgery, you go back to the surgeon’s office. You’ve followed all the instructions: take pain meds when needed, change the dressing on your incision every three days, shower but don’t scrub at the staples. You lay down on your side and the physician’s assistant uses pliers to pull them out and drop them in a small metal tin. Click, click, click. This, strangely, is the first thing that has hurt more than you will expect it to. At first you try and count the number but after a while you just focus on breathing. Once it’s done, she shows you the x-ray of your new titanium-enhanced femur. “It looks great, healing well,” she says, only you don’t really hear her because you and your husband are just staring at the X-Ray. What is that, you think. I had no idea it would look like that.
This sounds like the end of the story, but really it was the beginning. A new beginning where I was everything that I used to be, except now I was also a member of a rare disease club, a survivor of major surgery, and the owner of an implant. I posted the X-ray image on Facebook. “You’re bionic!” My friends cheered. I started going to physical therapy, slept a lot, and was cautiously optimistic I would be able to ditch my cane by the time school started in September.
This was foolhardy. But it reflected my mindset at the time: this was a thing that would pass, it would be difficult and then I would go back to being “my old self.”
I’d like to say that I disposed of this mindset quickly, but I actually clung to it even as my condition worsened. Going back to work was a relief, because I had something to do, but the muscles in my left leg did not agree. I wanted to act like everything was fine, but walking became a real ordeal, and I spent many hours between classes face down on Siswick’s couch with an ice pack wedged into my hip joint. Despite this, I thought it would be a good idea to go to a black tie event in New York and wear high heels. I paid for that for weeks.
According to my surgeon, everything looked fine -- no tumor recurrence, no messed up implant--which in a way was even more frustrating, because there was no definitive explanation why my body wasn’t playing nice. It just wasn’t. The worst was the occasional muscle spasm -- kind of like a charlie horse, but faster and more intense. My whole leg would seize up and I would just have to wait it out. Speaking was not really an option when these happened. The first time one hit me, I had just stood up on the bus to get off at 22nd and Chestnut, to go to school.
As the bus slowed for the stop, I started to panic: I can’t move right now, and I can’t really ask for help. What if the bus passes my stop? The thought of having to shuffle down an extra block to work was almost worse than the muscle spasm.
It was around this time last year that my juniors were reading “The Things They Carried” and we were talking about how you convey a unique experience to others. They all knew I was still recovering from surgery. One class in particular was good about telling me to sit down already when I kept walking around to work with them.
I tried my hand at explaining the phenomenon of the muscle spasms. “Have you ever seen those videos of hot lava, once it’s flowed away from the volcano? How the lava cools on the surface, but you can see it slowly shifting around underneath that surface?”
They nodded their heads.
“Well, it feels like that.”
I got a lot of shocked stares. “You mean, it feels like your muscles are on fire?”
Well… not exactly. I tried a different approach.
“Who in this room has some kind of metal implant in their body?”
To my mild surprise, several kids raised their hands. One had a few screws in his hand. Another had scoliosis as a child, and now had a rod in her back.”
“And, can you feel it?”
“Yeah, of course. If I twist really quickly I can feel it bump up against my spine.”
This got even more weird looks from classmates, and a couple of gasps. The student and I shrugged at each other.
So, what’s the point of this story?
I still haven’t really figured out how to explain to people what it’s like to have your body get used to a foreign object. I am still saying, on occasion, “I wish I could have you feel what this feels like.” Not to take the pain off of my hands, but just so someone could get it.
And yet: I’ve come to realize that one of the strange gifts of this whole experience is that I get it, with “it” being many kinds of physical trauma. I know how to coach someone through physical therapy that takes months. I can commiserate with new moms who have had an epidural, because I got one after my surgery. And when a close friend of mine had to get bone surgery herself, on her hand, I was there when she woke up in the hospital, there to tell her that the pain would pass eventually.
So it’s not so much that I am seeking to explain to people what this experience is like. It’s more that if and when they come into it themselves, I am here to greet them and help them make sense of what on earth is going on. I have a small lead on them, but I am still figuring it out myself. Which is kind of the point: I am still me, because I am still building who that person is.
Benchmark By Alexa Eddy
Chapter 1 (Isaac)
Isaac was 6 when his father died in the 50 gallon war. What was the fight over? 50 gallons of water. His mother also fought in the war, but she survived and went on to become a scientist. She became one of the world’s most respected scientists.It was 2078 and the population had drastically gone up. The world’s population clocked in at about 12 billion and resources were running thin quickly, especially water. Clean water has become so scarce that even the fishes must huddle in together and take short breaths to not take up all of the oxygen in the water because there is so little. Aside from America and Germany fighting over 50 gallons of water found in Japan, all countries are kind of tense. Gallons are never found randomly. They are harvested. And each country has a fair share based on their population. Japan harvested and hid fifty gallons in violation of their population. They had 450. They were only supposed to have 400. Even though many people hated the war, some loved it. Some felt like they needed it. It was a sort of population control. Many people were drafted. Although, the battle ended short when the two countries just decided to split it 25/25. Not as many people died, and it was a peaceful two years. Then the discovery of “Scrups” happened. And all humans were turning against each other so quick you would have thought they were enemies even before time.
Isaac was now 8 years old and he lived in a tiny house along with his mother. He shook the black hair from his face and he walked into the kitchen.
"Mami!"
"Que?"
"What are you eating?"
"Steak."
Isaac frowned, he knew that they were blessed with money but he wish she didn’t spend it on fresh food and eat it all. Both corners of her mouth scrunched up into a satisfied smile. Isaac had always heard "Eat healthy, you are what you eat ya know," from his abuela and he was always afraid his mom would turn into a steak. He never shared this fear with her because he didn't want to be labeled as a "dummy". She always called him that when she thought he made a stupid comment. His mother ate steak every night. Every morning. Every noon. And for snack, which was 6 times a day. And with each steak she ate, she drank a 8 ounce glass of orange juice and 2 ounces of water. Little Isaac walked up to his mother.
“Can I have some?”, his eyes went wide. “BUT ONLY A LITTLE BIT!”
His mother jumped back and her right eyebrow scrunched up, “Que te pasa?! Why the hell are you yelling?!”
Isaac apologized as his mother cut a small piece of steak. Her eyes were rimmed with dark purle, and the sea of wrinkled invaded her eyes, creating saggy bags. Despite his mom being exhausted, he loved her because she still took the time to talk to him. She flashed him a tired smile as she fixed him a small plate of steak. He was glad he only asked for a little bit, he didn’t want to turn into a steak.
“Lo siento, I forgot your fork!” Maribel stood up to run to the kitchen.
“No te preocupes, I’ll get it,” little Isaac got up to grab a fork. As he went to grab the iron handle to the wooden drawer, he bit on his lip so that he wouldn’t gasp as draw flew open as the handle pulled out straight towards his hands.
“Isaac? Are you okay?” his mother called. Worry was deep in her voice and she got up to move. Just then, Isaac came running through the door. Spoons, forks, and knives were flying through the air and they seemed to be chasing him. He ran back and forth, desperately trying to live when his mother brought a fist upon his cheek. Isaac blacked out, that’s all he remembered.
He woke up on a soft bed, screaming. He mother ran into his bedroom and held him down.
“Shhh! Shhh! Shhh! Ya cálmate!” she held his shoulders down as he panted.
“What do you mean calm down already?! Did you see that mommy?! Did you see that?!” he pointed everywhere, he quickly became paranoid as the metal candle holder on the brown wooden dresser started to shake. He screamed and his mom put her hand over his mouth.
“Shhh, the more calm you are, the less it happens. This was much easier when you were younger. I used to put medicine in your bottle just to calm you down,” she sat up on the bed and wiped the tears from his scared face.
“Your father, used to laugh. He believed that he had everything a man wanted. A wife, a beautiful child, a good paying job. He didn’t mind. We knew you were always special. Especially because his jacket buttons always stuck to your back. It was easy to peel them off of course. But it was funny to see the rainbow of colors on your back.” She giggled.
“You...you mean you knew I was a scrup?!” Isaac’s mouth twinged into a tight pout.
“A what?” her right eye brow scrunched up. Isaac knew that look, but he didn’t care.
“A screw up mom! A screw up!” he yelled, her temper came in quick and she slapped him so fast he didn’t even see the hand. Just heard a “whir” before he saw stars. She began to yell!
“You are NOT a screw up Isaac! You are beautiful and you are special!” she saw the tears in his eyes and she calmed down. She didn’t like hitting him, even for disciplinary reasons.
“We just, we just didn’t say anything because we thought we could keep it under control. We didn’t know what caused it at the time. We don’t know. But what we do know is, if people know then they will take you away from me.”
She began to cry, streams of tears dressed her delicate face and she no longer looked tired. Just devistated.
“I can’t have them take you away from me. I would die. I would just die. I wouldn’t know what to do!” She held on to Isaac and they cried together.
“W-w-what do I do mami?” he held on to her hand.
“I’ll show you,” she held up her right hand and a fork flew right into it. Isaac’s eyes went wide.
“WHOA! YOU HAVE IT TOO?” Isaac almost passed out. This was too much excitement for one day. He damn near fainted.
“Yes, come here. You can read well can’t you?” she pulled out a leather bound book. It was big, brown, and it had a metal lock on it.
“Yes ma’am,” he said proudly.
“I know you’re mature. I was waiting to give this to you, go in your room and read it,” she handed him the book. But he didn’t know the lock combination. It was a 7 slot lock and he didn’t know if he had to guess or what, and he flashed a worried look at his mother. She held out her right hand and the lock turned. The term “SOFRITO” came out and Isaac smiled. Only mami would do something like this.
“Mom, anyone whose spanish will know this! Can’t I change it?” he pouted.
“Yeah, here”, she held out her right hand again and made a fist. Something clicked and she rephrased the word into “ISAACYR”.
“There, your name and the first initial of your father’s last name and the first initials of my last name. Better?” she looked proud.
“Yes!” Isaac ran to his room and plopped on his bed. He opened the book, he appreciated the fact that his mom drew pictures for him to understand.
Chapter 2 (Maribel’s Diary)
Dear Isaac,
Hello, if you’re reading this, it means you’ve finally discovered that you are special. Like me. I might be retired now, and we’re probably living low because we are “special” and I need to teach you how to conceal your powers. Because if they are found, we will both be killed. Please read this, and learn a lot. This was from the studies that I did when I was still a scientist. Ok, here we go.
Basically, we are of the magnet origin. It is ancient, and it’s just ONE of the many origins that people can come from. Not everyone in the family has it. Just you, me, your grandma, and her father. Basically, we have the power to magnetize and demagnetize ourselves. But with magic, comes science. I’ve done some experiments on myself and I realized that the reason why you are of magnet origin is partly my fault. You know how I always eat steak and drink orange juice? Well, those are my favorite things to eat and drink. The issue is, we are already born with an iron imbalance in our bodies because we are basically human magnets. You know what else has iron? Steak. And do you know what an orange has? Vitamin C. Vitamin C helps the body absorb iron and I pretty much ate this while I was pregant with you. I’m so sorry Isaac, please forgive me for burdening you. ❤
Okay, here’s a simple diagram:
Okay honey, as you can see, we have a crap load of iron in us. Therefore, at will, we can become super magnetic. Here are things you need to know:
- Even if you want to panic, don’t. You will pull all of the metal to yourself or push it away.
- Befriend people of different origins. If you want, I can introduce you to some.
- Befriend people of similar origins. Here’s a chart of how they’re broken down.
|
Earth (metal) |
Water (life) |
Fire (offense) |
Air (supports) |
|
Magnetic (attracts metal) |
Life (healers) |
Electricity (Good at fighting, can summon electricity. Good for black outs) |
Travelers (can fly/super speed) |
|
Rockers (Manipulate Earth/Metal) |
Aqua mages (can manipulate water) |
Starters (People who can summon fire) |
Pushers (Can maipulate air to create “natural” disasters) |
|
Chameleons (once they touch the earth they can blend in) |
Green thumbs (Can manipulate plants) |
Melters (People who just have the abilities to heat up things) |
Airlocks (Can summon air) |
As people of the origins, our job is to simply keep the elements in balance and to keep the Earth safe from it’s people. We were supposed to live in peace. Now, for each origin there is a “mother” origin. The mother origins are the four elements. Earth, Water, Fire, and Air. And from these stem the “baby” origins. Such as us “Magnetics”. Now, where were weeeee oh yeah. How to magnetize! Here is a practice method:
- Sit in a calm, quiet room.
- Put a metallic object in front of you.
- Close your eyes.
- Breathe calmly in and out. In and out.
- Grab the fork. When you touch it, focus on the energy going back and forth into the fork.
- When you close your eyes, hold the fork in front of you. You will be able to see a bright blue outline of everything. Focus on the fork until all of it is light blue.
- Mentally tell it to push away.
- Let go.
- If it drops, you need to practice some more.
- Once you master that, you can mentally “demagnitize” yourself.
- Hold the fork until it’s blue again. Now, focus all the energy away until it’s faint blue again.
- Drop it.
- You won’t attract any metal unless you want to.
- What the hell are you waiting for? Go try it!
Isaac was excited. He jumped out of his bed and ran to the door and screamed when he saw his mom standing there with a fork.
“Here!” she threw the fork at him and he screamed and put his hands up. The metal flew to his hand.
“Okay, here’s one thing. As magnetics, we can only pull or push. There is no floating or suspending in the air. That’s what the Rockers are for. Now, try to pull that spoon over here. Remember the guide. Y por favor, no te grites.” she pouted.
“Okay I won’t scream,” He sat on the floor and closed his eyes. He breathed in and out. In and out. He could feel his body gathering energy and soon he could see the outline of every little thing in the room. He focused on the little spoon on the marble counter and soon it began to turn bright blue. He thought “COME” and in a flash he felt the spoon smack into his hand.
“Whoa I did it!” Isaac jumped up and down.
“Great, now, time to ea-,” she stopped in mid sentence. Isaac could see blood drip on the floor.
“MAMI!” he screamed to deaf ears. Dead ears. He saw her body fly to the ground and he held out his hand in panic. Her book flew to his hand as he backed in a corner and screamed. Tears flew to his face. He panicked, his body drenched in sweat and a little urine trickled. Four men in army uniforms started to walk towards him. The strongest one, the most muscular spoke up first.
“I don’t know Hank. He’s just a kid. Do we have to kill him? We could just collect him.”
The smallest one, who was supposedly the leader shot back:
“Orders were, annihilate any scrups. Shoot him.”
The men readied their guns and shot. Isaac screamed and put his hands up and all of a sudden the shots stopped. All he could he was four dead men who looked like bloody swiss cheese then he was whirred away. All he saw was a flash of his neighborhood and his house getting smaller and the next thing he knew he was in a room. He looked up and there was an African American kid.
“W-w-what are you DOING?” Isaac began to stand up but he fell again. He was dizzy.
“Calm down dude, that’s gonna happen. Hi. My name’s Connor and I like Star Wars. Everyone get’s dizzy when I drive them!” Connor was 8 years old at that time and full of energy.
“H-h-h-hi. My name’s Isaac. I’m a m-m-..,” Isaac couldn’t stop stuttering out of fear.
“Magnetic? Yeah. I know. We all know. You’re mom used to be one of the big guys.”, Connor stood Isaace up and supported him on his shoulder.
“We all?” Isaac looked around. They were in a little shack. Connor pulled open a wooden plank and there was a stair case. Connor led Isaac down.
“Common dude! This is so cool! You’ll get to meet my mom, Jennifer, and all my friends!”.
As they slowly walked down the dark, spiral stair case, Isaac began to whimper and cry.
“I-it’s okay! You don’t have to cry! Please don’t cry!” Connor tried his best to calm Isaac down but to no avail. The loss of his mother was too much to bare. He trudged down the stairs to a big ice door. It was frozen solid. White, frozen, solid.
Connor yelled out “Jennifer!” and the ice magically melted. A nine year old white girl was on the other side.
“Aw, why is he crying?” she pouted. Behind her, a quick “whir” and a tall slender black woman popped up in front of her.
“Connor what the hell were you THINKING?” she yelled at him as he hung his head.
“I was… I got Miss Maribel’s kid. She…,” little Connor didn’t even need to finish the sentence till his mother’s hard scowl softened.
“Oh, oh you poor baby!” she lifted Isaac in her arms and he let her. He cried on her shoulder and she held him tightly. He looked around with his tear-blurry eyes and sniffled. The room was white with blue lights. The carpet and the couches were white where as the tables and chairs were blue. There were people of all ages staring at him.
Miss Lana set him down. “Would ya like some water honey?”, Isaacs eyes went wide with surprise.
“You can have juice, but water is illegal to have! Who are you people?!.” Lana gave him a warm smile.
“We are you, and you’re one of us. Jennifer!”, Jenny came with an empty cup and drew her right hand up she pulled the moisture out of the air and poured it into the cup. The cup got frosty. She handed it to a now very thirsy Isaac. Miss Lana introduced them all.
“This is Jennifer. Her origin is Aqua Mage, Mother Origin is water. And this is Connor. He’s a traveler, as you know he can run really fast and he makes trouble. Listen, I’m really sorry about your mother… she meant a lot to everyone here as well.” Lana held on to his shoulder. Isaac looked up with red puffy eyes.
“Why did they kill my mom? We didn’t do anything!” tears were streaming down Isaac’s face. Lana picked him up gently and took him into a small white room, she closed the door behind her to shield them from staring eyes.
“The government sees her as a threat. They don’t like people like us. It’s just that, I’m scared for them.” she said, her eyes looked down with sorrow.
“Why?”
“Well. Have you ever heard of the term “You are your worst enemy?”” She scrunched her eye brows up.
“Yes! My mom used to say it all the time!”
“Well, they will destroy themselves eventually. But, it’s up to us to protect our people. SNS. Suspernatural Society.”
Isaac felt a sort of proudness. He quietly got up, walked to the door, opened it and looked out.
“Hi” he said, “I’m Isaac”.
Chapter 3 (2082)
Isaac was now ten, even 2 years later his mother’s death still affected him. He walked out of a medium red house. That’s where all of the members of the SNS stayed. He walked down the sidewalk to the corner of the 56 septa bus. As it arrived he read some graffiti on the side “No Scrups”. Isaac was scared, but he remembered what his mother said. Be careful, and breathe. He breathed and got on the bus. He sat near the door, that’s where he always felt safe. A strange old lady, wrinkled to the bone began to chant something. He couldn’t hear it until she started to speak up:
“No Scrups! No Scrups! No Scrups!”, by that point everyone in the bus decided to chime in, getting louder in unison.
“NO SCRUPS! NO SCRUPS! NOOOOOO SCRUUUUPS!”, Isaac was getting nervous. His palms were sweaty, his eye brows scrunched up, his face in a frown. He closed his fists and the bus stopped. People’s chants died down and gasps went all around. The old crone whispered:
“There’s a scrup in here...everyone off the bus!” everyone ran out of the doors. Scared. Nervous. Violent. The outside of the bus was crunched. People scattered in all directions, women, men, children, even the old wrinkled prune seemed to gain speed as if she were 30 years younger. Isaac ran down the street to Erie and Torresdale to catch the EL to school. He was happy to finally make it. After he got on his long ride, he hopped off at 13 street and took a trolley to 22nd. As he went up the stairs, he could hear the same chants. He walked in on a crowd who were protesting intergrated schools. He ran past them and went to greenfield. He was about ten minutes late as he slammed into the seat of his first class, sweaty, nervous. His teacher Miss Mara scolded him for being late. He tried to explain but she wouldn’t have it. She made him sit up front, and the school bully Johnathon threw spit balls at him. Isaac was young, but he was old enough to know what happens. When a fight is going on, the kid that is the most in trouble is the one that retaliates. Isaac looked at his teacher and pretended to pay attention, but he changed his focus. He instead, saw a dull blue light around his teacher, but he could feel the intensity of the metal desk behind him. Jonathon teetered back in his desk and Isaac made himself negative between himself and the desk, pushing it back. Johnathon began to cry as Isaac smiled. He ran his fingers through his hair, it was oily. He figured he could get Connor to rush him home and wash it real quick, but he changed his mind. Jennifer was in his class as well, as Jonathon fell, Jenny flashed Isaac a smile. She was trying so hard not to laugh. After a daunting 45 minutes, the bell rang and all of the kids ran out into the hallway for their next class.
“Hey!” Jennifer yelled as she ran up. “Happy Birthday!” she smiled.
“Wanna skip?” Isaac inquired. He was so tired. A friend of theirs, Harry ran up as well.
“You can count me in! Hey, did you guys hear?” Isaac and Jenny looked confused. Harry decided to elaborate. “They killed him! They took him away and they finally killed him!”
“Who?” Isaac was curious!
“That Scrup!” he pulled out his hollogram phone and showed him a picture of an Asian man. His hair was scruffy, but that face looked familiar. No. Isaac couldn’t and would not believe it. His dad died in the war. But this man looked so familiar. No. Isaac’s dad died in a war.
“D-d-didn’t he die in a war?” Isaac was in shock.
“Heck no! My mom told me they got him while the war was going on. He’s on a death sentence. But they finally killed him! Isn’t that great? Hung him in front of everyone! They said he was the laaaaaast one that they knew about. They killed his wife already. They’re just looking for the kid! Well, I gotta go!” and proud Harry ran away. Isaac laid himself upon the wall. Shaking.
“We have to go home!” and just then a “whir” came by and Connor was standing 2 inches from Isaac’s face.
“I can get you guys there!” and the “beep” of an announcement went on. They stopped to listen.
“Attention! Attention! News reports have stated that a SNS house was found and cleared out! Soldiers have eleminated the threats, along with their leader Lana Johnson!”.
Connor’s heart took no time to break. Connor grabbed Jennifer and Isaac tightly and ran with all of his might to the house. It was on fire. Wood and metal were everywhere and Jennifer held out her hands and frosted everyone’s skin.
“It helps. You won’t burn or even feel hot. My grandma taught me that”. All three of them slowly walked in.
“My father…. was alive.” Isaac whispered. Tears running down his face. He was sad, not only because he didn’t know his father. But because he heard what happened to prisoners through Harry as well. And from the bruises and lash marks that he witnessed in the picture, it didn’t look like he had it easy. Connor began to cry as well. He kneeled down and held a burnt black hand, he washed it in his never ending agony.
“Mama….” but alas, he had no time to mourn as five soldiers with masks and fire proof suits came in. They all held their guns and began to shoot. Isaac made himself negative and flew the bullets their way, killing all five.
“Connor! Take Jennifer and go!” Isaac pulled all the metal towards him. Jennifer screamed:
“No, we’re not leaving! We got to stick together. Remember?” she frowned, she had no parents and Connor and Isaac were like brothers to her. “REMEM-” and Connor whirred her away after giving Isaac a strong and lasting hug.
Chapter 4
Isaac was brought before a crowd in Ritten House. Whipped. Bloodied. Dirty. Skin black from the ash. Through his chewed up ears he could hear:
“NO SCRUPS! NO SCRUPS! NO SCRUPS!”
He could also hear a group of women who were upset:
“NO! He’s just a child! He’s just a child!”
They brought him onto a stage in front of everyone and through him over a cold wooden block. A big man with an axe came by and made a speech.
“Dear ladies, and gentlemen. These “Scrups” are nothing but trouble. They think they’re better than us, stronger, and more deserving of life just because they have powers. We have a child here. The child of the two leaders of SNS. Maribel Rodriguez and Ichiro Akiyama. The child of disgusting scum who didn’t deserve to walk the Earth.”
A lady yelled out “They were SOLDIERS. They FOUGHT for this COUNTRY! You are the real scum!”
The man simply replied with “Shut the hell up you prune. Bring her up here.” two soldiers dragged her up to the wooden block and slammed her down as well.
The man cleared his throat, “As I was saying, as humans, we are supposed to take care of this world. And today, we will make progress. Look at this boy and his scum follower! This is the enemy! This is what we must kill! They are the reason for sickness, global warming, the pain and agony that we endure every day! It’s ALL THEM!”
And with that, he brought down the axe. The head of the old woman ended up in the middle of the crowd and they all screamed a yell of joy as her blood sprayed on the grass.
“Goodbye devil child”, the man brought up his axe and-
_-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__
A ten year old girl with brown curly hair closed the book. She ran out to the living room to her mother. Her father ran after her:
“Clara, CLARA! Give me that book! JENNIFER COME AND GET THIS GIRL!”. Clara’s mother softly got up from the couch.
“Connor what’s wrong now?” she inquired. She was tired.
“Did this really happen?” she breathed in and out. She never read something so scary. Her mother sat her upon her lap.
“No honey, of course not.” She rocked Clara back and forth until she fell asleep. She gave Clara to Connor and in 1 second Connor came back.
“You tucked her in and all?” Jennifer asked.
“Yes. Was one second too long for you?” and he tried to smile but it didn’t cheer Jennifer up.
“Where did she find that book Connor? I… I hid it away. I didn’t want to remember. I didn’t want to remember being in that crowd. Seeing Isaac… for God’s sake he was only ten Connor! Only ten! How many other children did they need to murder before they got their point across? Just for being a magnetic? For being a “scrup”? We even have to hide today Connor. When will they stop hating us?” Jennifer’s face became coated in tears.
“Just because he was a child, he had a hard time controlling it. Just because he was special. They killed him. Did they have to?” Jennifer mumbled.
Connor held her frail body and hummed until she calmed down.
“I know honey. I know. We just need to keep hiding. Ok? They can’t just tell if we have powers. We’ve had a nice life so far ok? And our baby was born normal. You don’t have to worry. Even if we were found out. I’ll protect you and Clara with all my life.”
Jennifer sniffled and she smiled. “Yeah, at least Clara is normal.”
It was just then she realized that Clara had just walked in. She was scared.
“Mommy?” tears were in her eyes. Her body was shaking. She jumped into her parents’ arms.
“Yes honey what’s wrong?” Jennifer began to sweat. Hoping her daughter didn’t hear the conversation. Her daughter held up her right hand, and a spoon began to float. Jenny’s eyes went wide with fear. She whispered:
“A r-r-rocker!” Jennifer exclaimed.
“M-m-mommy, some kids at school saw. My t-t-teacher knows”. Clara couldn’t stop stuttering. She wasn’t ignorant to the world. She knew.
Jennifer and Connor looked at each other as they heard a knock on the door. As Connor stood up to hold Clara and Jennifer to escape, the door flew inwards and broke open.
The End
Instructions for Leaving Feeback
Get out your headphones! During class it is your job to watch at least four videos. WHen you are done, leave a comment and answer the following four questions for EACH PROJECT, in complete sentences:
1. Describe how you agree or disagree with their analysis. If you agree, add a few sentences extending their theory about their text. If you disagree, use the lens to produce an alternate analysis of their text.
2. Did this video push your thinking at all? Did it encourage you to look at the world in a new way? Explain why or why not.
3. What other book, film, movie, TV show, etc. does their project remind you of? How could you apply their analysis to this other text?
4. What shout-outs do you have for this group and their project?
Conquest Comes in All Shapes, Sizes and Genders
Clever title goes up top
Name your play and your movie in the sub-title so the clever title doesn't seem randomConquest Comes in All Shapes, Sizes and Genders
Comparing "Taming of the Shrew" to "My Best Friend's Wedding"After your title comes your intro description, which should include the following info:
- names of the play and your movie selection, plus an introduction to the characters you're talking about and their basic situation.
- a thesis statement that compares/contrasts the movie and the play. You it should be clear which focus area you're zooming in on from the intro paragraph--set the reader up to understand the scene(s) you'll be presenting!
As "The Taming of the Shrew" proves, the idea of romance as conquest has been around for centuries. In "Shrew," the wild and demanding Petruchio swears he will have Katherine as his wife, no matter the cost. In the 1997 movie "My Best Friend's Wedding," the main character sets out to do the same--only this time it's a woman seeking to win her close friend, who is about to marry someone else.
Though Petruchio and Julianne share some emotions and motivations in their stories, their situations--and the tactics they use--are quite different. Petruchio's only roadblock is Katherine's resistance, so he can be unabashedly forward in his attempts to win her, and has the full support of his friends. By contrast, Julianne faces an already-existing romance, so she has to be more covert, and faces criticism from the one friend who knows of her plan. These two situations make for different kinds of humor, and also show how society's attitudes towards courtship have changed over the centuries. These texts reflect that women have more power and agency than they once did, but because of this, a match can't be made by brute force. Both parties must be won over by romance.
After you have the intro, it's up to you how you organize your film stills and quotes. I chose to alternate between the play and the movie, starting off with the play. Put the play quotes in BIG FONT to give the reader something to latch on to. And remember to give enough CONTEXT in your captions for each quote and picture, or else the reader will be confused!
"I am as peremptory as she proud-minded;
And where two raging fires meet together,
They do consume the thing that feeds their fury."
(Act II, Scene i, 124-26)A few sentences go after quote, including sufficient CONTEXT that tells the reader what's going on in "Shrew," and also a bit of ANALYSIS linking to your thesis.
In this quote, Petruchio describes how both he and Katherine are very strong-willed, and how these forces will combine once he woos her. That this could be as dangerous as a raging fire doesn't seem to concern Petruchio, or even Katherine's father. The extreme situation calls for extreme measures.
You then TRANSITION into your comparative scene from a movie. Include a transition sentence and then put in the screen shot:
The plotting suitor finds herself in a similarly extreme situation in the movie, although her delivery is somewhat different.
After the screen shot, you need to do the same thing that you did for the quote from "Shrew" -- sufficient context that describes what's happening in that scene, and analysis that connects back to your thesis (and states what the comparison and/or contrast is to "Shrew.)
In this early scene from "My Best Friend's Wedding," Julianne anxiously declares to her friend George that "I'm a busy girl. I've got four days to break up a wedding and steal the bride's fellow." Unlike Petruchio, she remains on edge during the entire film--she is either ranting to George about the next phase in her plan, or nervously putting her deceits into action. This fuels the humor in the movie, but it also reminds the audience that what she's doing is wrong.
Then, you need a second (and possibly a third) set of comparisons: play, movie. Play, movie. Don't forget to use a larger font!
"Quote 2 from Play"
(Act x, Scene x, line numbers)
Analysis goes here. Then transition:
Julianne's friend George, however, is not so supportive of her idea.
After her first attempts to break up the wedding fail, George comes to visit her and asks: "Do you really love him? Or is this just about winning?" When she says that she does in fact love him, George gives her a piece of advice that he repeats for the rest of the movie: the only chance she's got is to be honest and tell her friend the truth. Interestingly, George doesn't even believe this will get Julianne what she wants, but he still thinks it's the only worthwhile path.
Finally, you need your CONCLUSION. This paragraph should specifically mention BOTH the play and the movie, and touch on the central question of the assignment: What do these portrayals show us about society's attitudes towards courtship/dating?
That Julianne doesn't win her man in the end only reinforces that a modern audience wants to see true love above all else. Petruchio finishes off "Shrew" with a wife, twenty thousand crowns, and a sense of accomplishment; All Julianne has at the end of "My Best Friend's Wedding" is a deeper understanding of love and commitment, but we're left with the feeling that this will help her later in life, after the movie ends. Plus, she's smiling again before the credits roll: she has her gay friend George to spin her around the wedding dance floor as a consolation
Short Story from TJay
It had always been that way for as long as I could remember. Until that day the U Haul truck was outside of our house which it had then set in my head that this was actually happening. I let my backpack hang from one shoulder in disbelief. My dad came to the door carrying moms’ dresser along with four other movers. “Ray! Ray! … Ray!” I had started day dreaming until I heard my friend calling me from his next door window. “Hey David” I said looking down as I sighed. “What’s going on ; I didn’t know you were moving” he said. I thought to myself while he was talking about how different this move to Filthadelphia might be. I had been there once for a Flyers game when we went to the East Coast two years ago. It was over run with drunk people with strange accents and there were tons of Italians more than I had ever seen. “Ray! Ray! … Ray!” David said. “Hey man are you alright” he said , no my life is over I thought I just nodded and said I was okay.
Ten days later we took the long flight to our new home. Our stuff was sent to Philly ahead of us so it’d be there when we arrived. The whole flight I just sat there as my parents sat there watching movies under a blanket on their laptops. I took like four naps on that flight, the stewardess came by three times and offered some us some pretzels and peanuts I just said no until she came back with cranberry juice I drank that. I dozed off again; when I woke up we were making our final descent into Killadelphia. I pulled the blanket over my eyes when we landed I wasn’t ready to be there yet. I left behind all my friends and even this girl I liked she said we could never be together because I wore sweater vests. *fasten seat belt sign goes off* we were officially in our new home.
We caught a cab to West Philly, the most I ever heard about this part of Philly was from Will Smith on re-runs of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. The cab driver was telling my dad about everything there was to see on our way to our new home. We pulled up and I went into the vacant house our things were in thepod out front they had just been delivered. They were row homes, they looked like George Washington’s house very old. I walked in I heard voices out back so I went on the deck. There were two thuggish looking kids out there one was on the balcony and one was in the driveway below. Their accents were weird.
“Yo Tyrel!, wassup cous?” Yo bro I screamed back from my balcony as I spit on to the concrete down below. “We on the block today?” Rick screamed back while still walking. “ Yeah dawg we out here.”
The two guys names were Tyrell and Rick they didn’t see me peeking out the sliding door. The one kid spit on to the driveway below and he was blasting some rap music out of his back pocket, his pants were sagging they looked like real scum to me nothing like my friends back home.
“Yo Tyrell who’s that moving in next door?” “Probably some old head who’s probably gonna try to take over the block again.” I’m bout to slide over there to my steps to see what’s popping said Tyrell” Tyrell and Rick sat on Tyrell's front steps watching as Ray and Ray’s parents carried in leftover boxes.
Tyrell and Rick looked over at Ray and laughed at him as they said “sweater vest”
Ray just glanced up and carried the box in the house.
Later that evening he went back out front to watch everything that was going on in his new neighborhood.
I swear I hate it here and all the people imagine when school starts.
The two “new neighbors “ emerge from the next door house and pull their marijuana and lit it. They offered Ray some but he kindly said no.
They laughed and whispered to each other.
“Oh you looked like you don’t want no smoke” said Tyrell - in urban Philadelphia this would mean Ray doesn’t want any conflict.
“I have no idea what that means bro but I’m new here so could you just umm how do I say this so you could understand.. just you know , chill?” said Ray.
*laughter from the tandem breaks the silence of the quite street*
“Where are you from dawg?” said Rick to Ray.
“West Side” said Ray
“West Side of what cous?!” said Tyrell in an annoyed tone
“Of Long Beach” said Ray
“Yeah well be more specific next time youngboul” said Rick
“What on earth is a youngboul?” said Ray
“How do I say this so you can understand, umm a scrub” said Tyrell
Tyrell and Rick both laughed simultaneously again and said Squad.
In Philadelphia squad is something said in urban communities normally at the end of sentences by two or more people who are friends most commonly used after a punch line in a joke between them.
Ray removes himself and goes into the house where his mom is sitting on the couch he storms up the steps she asks how he likes his new friends. He replies back saying that they are not his friends.
The next morning through the wall Ray hears more of that loud rap music he bangs on the wall and the music doesn’t stop.
The music even sounds like a foreign language to me. All I hear is obscenities I miss Long Beach where it was nice outside I didn’t hear sirens all night. I went to turn on the news and all I saw was murder it was so different even the news people had accents. In the next few weeks I had my first cheesesteak and water-ice. Pronounced wooder-ice here. I even became cooler as they say with Rick and Tyrell. I even gave their music a shot. They didn’t like my pop music too much but theyheld me down. Which in Philly meant they watched after me to make sure I was okay.
I will say that I prejudged this whole city as a whole and especially their accents which I still despise. Philadelphia has been good to me thus far. I’m chilling.
Sample Language Autobiography Post
"Language Autobiography Title"
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Back to School Nights - September 11th and 13th
To all SLA students and their families -- Back to School Nights are coming soon!
For Freshmen and Seniors, your night is Tuesday, September 11th from 6 - 8 P.M.
Freshmen will be having an advisory potluck in the school cafe, where they will be greeted by Mr. Lehmann, break bread with their new groups, and also have a chance to meet the freshmen teachers. Families are asked to contribute dishes to the evening by last name:
A-F - Appetizers + Snacks
G-S - Main Dishes
T-Z - Desserts + Beverages
Seniors will be having a College Information Night with Ms. Hirschfield, Mr. Lehmann, and their advisors in the Drama Studio. Crucial information and forms will be shared.
For Sophomores and Juniors, your night is Thursday, September 13 from 6 - 8 P.M.
Families will be greeted by Mr. Lehmann and will then have time in their advisories to learn about academics and visit classes online. This will include information about Moodle, Naviance, and other relevant programs. Families will also have time to visit subject teachers one-on-one.
For all grade levels -- students are strongly encouraged to attend with their families!
For Freshmen and Seniors, your night is Tuesday, September 11th from 6 - 8 P.M.
Freshmen will be having an advisory potluck in the school cafe, where they will be greeted by Mr. Lehmann, break bread with their new groups, and also have a chance to meet the freshmen teachers. Families are asked to contribute dishes to the evening by last name:
A-F - Appetizers + Snacks
G-S - Main Dishes
T-Z - Desserts + Beverages
Seniors will be having a College Information Night with Ms. Hirschfield, Mr. Lehmann, and their advisors in the Drama Studio. Crucial information and forms will be shared.
For Sophomores and Juniors, your night is Thursday, September 13 from 6 - 8 P.M.
Families will be greeted by Mr. Lehmann and will then have time in their advisories to learn about academics and visit classes online. This will include information about Moodle, Naviance, and other relevant programs. Families will also have time to visit subject teachers one-on-one.
For all grade levels -- students are strongly encouraged to attend with their families!
"Sample video" by Ms. Pahomov
"Sample video" by Ms. Pahomov
"Sample Podcast Title" by Ms. Pahomov
Your preview paragraph goes BEFORE the audio file -- a short and sweet paragraph that gets the reader interested in your podcast. Give some clues or hints about the story, but don't give away everything! Write something so that your peers will want to listen to your work. It should be 3-4 sentences.
AUDIO FILES GOES HERE -- use the "multimedia" button to load it and make sure it plays without downloading
AFTER the audio files goes your written reflection. Target length for reflection: 300 words.
AUDIO FILES GOES HERE -- use the "multimedia" button to load it and make sure it plays without downloading
AFTER the audio files goes your written reflection. Target length for reflection: 300 words.
Prompt: What different things did you learn or realize while doing this project?
Possible categories for reflection:
- • Crossing boundaries - what does it mean, causes and effects, cost and benefits
- • The experience of doing interviews – what did you learn and discover, about others or yourself?
- • Editing and producing your product – anything unexpected?
- • Comments from your peers – agree or disagree, and why?
- • Your own strengths or weaknesses
"Sample Podcast" by Ms. Pahomov
Your preview paragraph goes BEFORE the audio file -- a short and sweet paragraph that gets the reader interested in your podcast. Give some clues or hints about the story, but don't give away everything! Write something so that your peers will want to listen to your work
AUDIO FILES GOES HERE -- use the "multimedia" button to load it and make sure it plays without downloading
AFTER the audio files goes your written reflection. Target length for reflection: 300 words.
AUDIO FILES GOES HERE -- use the "multimedia" button to load it and make sure it plays without downloading
AFTER the audio files goes your written reflection. Target length for reflection: 300 words.
Prompt: What different things did you learn or realize while doing this project?
Possible categories for reflection:
- • Crossing boundaries - what does it mean, causes and effects, cost and benefits
- • The experience of doing interviews – what did you learn and discover, about others or yourself?
- • Editing and producing your product – anything unexpected?
- • Comments from your peers – agree or disagree, and why?
- • Your own strengths or weaknesses
This I Believe: Talking About Death
In the last week, death keeps coming up at work. Not because anybody has died, or is close to dying -- because I keep casually bringing it up.
I should mention that I'm a high school English teacher, so each situation has involved me talking to a bunch of teenagers about death. And they don't like it. When analyzing a funeral scene in a novel, I was getting a lukewarm reaction from the class, so I appealed to their personal senses of mortality: "You guys realize that you're all going to die, right?"
This did no go over well. To try and improve the situation, I pointed out that I planned on dying before they did. They were equally dismayed by this statement.
Same thing when I made an off-hand remark in the office about a weekend activity: "So-and-so's got it all planned, so if I die before Saturday, everything will still run smoothly." I got a few surprised looks. "Why would you say something like that?"
I don't really mean it, of course. I have no intention of dying anytime soon. But I usually meet their reaction with a shrug. Why not talk about death like any other topic? It happens every day, all around the world. It has affected each of us in some way, and is the guaranteed shared experience that accompanies life.
When I told one class about my experiences this week, a few students agreed with my viewpoint. "I fear the moment of death, but not the fact that my life will end." A few people nodded their heads in agreement. I thought about all of ways our discussion could go on this subject: what happens after we die? what makes a good death? how should we honor the dead?
Another student reflected on the fact that she felt like she might be wasting her life sitting at home and playing video games, when she should be out making memories. "Life is short... I'm almost seventeen."
I know many adults would laugh at that statement -- but I think most grown-ups are trudging towards death with far less awareness than the students in my class. If we can acknowledge death, even in the background, then I think we can live a better life.
I should mention that I'm a high school English teacher, so each situation has involved me talking to a bunch of teenagers about death. And they don't like it. When analyzing a funeral scene in a novel, I was getting a lukewarm reaction from the class, so I appealed to their personal senses of mortality: "You guys realize that you're all going to die, right?"
This did no go over well. To try and improve the situation, I pointed out that I planned on dying before they did. They were equally dismayed by this statement.
Same thing when I made an off-hand remark in the office about a weekend activity: "So-and-so's got it all planned, so if I die before Saturday, everything will still run smoothly." I got a few surprised looks. "Why would you say something like that?"
I don't really mean it, of course. I have no intention of dying anytime soon. But I usually meet their reaction with a shrug. Why not talk about death like any other topic? It happens every day, all around the world. It has affected each of us in some way, and is the guaranteed shared experience that accompanies life.
When I told one class about my experiences this week, a few students agreed with my viewpoint. "I fear the moment of death, but not the fact that my life will end." A few people nodded their heads in agreement. I thought about all of ways our discussion could go on this subject: what happens after we die? what makes a good death? how should we honor the dead?
Another student reflected on the fact that she felt like she might be wasting her life sitting at home and playing video games, when she should be out making memories. "Life is short... I'm almost seventeen."
I know many adults would laugh at that statement -- but I think most grown-ups are trudging towards death with far less awareness than the students in my class. If we can acknowledge death, even in the background, then I think we can live a better life.
Your creative and individual essay title here
Text of essay goes here
Your individual and clever and unique title here
The text of your essay goes here.
"Title of Podcast" by Larissa Pahomov
A brief description of your podcast should go here. It could repeat the first couple lines of your introduction in the podcast, or tell us the general idea of the podcast. The description should HOOK the reader into wanting to listen -- without giving the entire story away!
