Naeem Goins Public Feed

Na'eem Goins Capstone

Posted by Naeem Goins in Capstone · Hernandez/Hull · Wed on
​For my capstone, I decided to write a art book that incorporated both poetry and photography. At first,  the book was just going to be different poems that I wrote about my everyday life but I got inspired to write about others. I wanted to provide a space for my classmates to vent and talk about issues that affected them internally. Seeing that my classmates all have different stories and survived dire situations only to not tell their testimonies, I created a platform for that. During the school year, I  interviewed seniors at SLA. My goal was to give them a confidential session that allowed them to share life stories that shaped them into who they are today. Struggle that they never fully shared with their own circle of people. My hope was for them to be proud of their past and feel better after talking to me. I recorded the interviews and listen to them every time I got inspired to write a poem. Putting myself into their shoes, I wrote a poem inspired by that person. Then I volunteered for paid surveys at Penn hospital and saved up money to buy a camera. With that camera, I took picture of the people I interviewed in my own minnie photoshoot setups. When I was done with the interviews, I wrote poems about my own struggles and took photographs that symbolize each poem. I summated all of the poems and pictures into a book that is available for sell.

Link to book:

https://docs.google.com/document/d/12Kv86WcAGw0N3vYaog3OJiYpoHuQY1sAikRZU8wcdJQ/edit?usp=sharing

Bibliography

  • Barthes, Roland. Camera Lucida: Reflections on Photography. The Noonday Press, 1988. I found this source useful because photography is such a big part of my capstone. Barthes exemplified the distinct different between the object and the image, how standard photography is mainly motionless, and feeling a lense on you while posing. The idea that being ask about your favorite photograph and not being able to pinpoint the image, just the desire body, is a powerful thing. I'm trying to make my audience love not the image but the body that's in it.
    View

  • Furedi, Frank. Therapy Culture: Cultivating Vulnerability in an Uncertain Age. Routledge, 2004. I selected this source for the interview portion of my project. It is very important that I have pre knowledge of certain behaviors the interviewees may have, how to help someone become more vulnerable, and ultimately not make the interews a basic conversation. I want to know more than their friends do. Parts of the book really help me understand the reasons for problems in our internal world be what people perceive as personal issue.

  • King, Carla. How to Self-Publish Your Book: a Practical Guide to Creating and Distributing Your E-Book or Print Book. PBS MediaShift, 2013. This source was very helpful because of how much information it have on publishing a book. Being an independent writer and making my first real book, I needed to find cheap, easy, and quick publishing ideas. This book gave me a lot of publishing resources for e books and physical copies. Since I want to make several physical copies of my book for everyone involve to have, I am definitely revisiting this source on companies and free printing. This source has open my eyes to fundraising because It can be very expensive.

  • Wojcik, Pamela Robertson. Movie Acting, the Film Reader. Routledge, 2004. This book was used for the movie part of my capstone. Since I will be the main actor and havent done anything acting in a year, I needed to refresh my mind. Its a big difference between acting on stage and acting in front of the camera, both require different techniques. This source exemplifies on the meaning of "overacting". It doesn't mean that you turn your performance into theatrical acting. I want to make sure that this film becomes my best performance of highschool.

  • Starr, Ringo. Photograph. Genesis Publications, 2015. This source was helpful for my capstone by providing different photography techniques. Since each poem will be accompanied by photographs, it is very important that I get professional quality photographs. This source taught me a lot about portrait photography. I also learned about making it a comfortable environment for the model, focusing on detail, and capturing emotions. This source also provided photographs as examples of the different techniques. Being a artist, I am always open to learning new ways of taking photographs and helping the model show emotion on the picture instead of treating it like fashion.

  • Nelson-Jones, Richard. Essential Counselling and Therapy Skills: the Skilled Client Model. Sage, 2002. This source helped me with interviewing the participants in my capstone. The interview session is the heart of the poems, pictures, movie, and for me to get to know them. This book talked a lot about how to deal with certain questions, how to keep your composure, and remaining neutral in every situation that is presented. This is very important because I want to have great interview sessions and no dull conversations. I also do not want anyone to feel uncomfortable and instead, build trust with me.

  • Feidelson, Charles. Symbolism and American Literature. The University of Chicago Press, 1965. This source help me by completely explaining the symbolism in literacy and why its accepted to the broader but not so much critics. The book bring in sources from medieval times to politics and how language leave little room for symbolism. My poetry is going to have a symbolic style for the book. Its very important that I use metaphors correctly in the book because I want the reader to question what i'm saying and , later, understand. This source gave me a lot of reasons for the use symbols though it was hard to understand.

  • Goins, Naeem C, and Alexa Lahr. “8 The Book: Interview.” 12 Jan. 2018. This source help me alot because it is one of my interviews for the project. Being one of the participant, Alexa talked a lot about her past traumatic experiences with middle school. She had body issues because of what people said about her. Knowing she was different from a young age, she started accepting herself at a Christian camp. She find outs that she is made in God's image and started to look towards the good in being different. During the interview, it was a little challenge trying to get her to open up but she did. I cant go into detail about everything that was talked about during the interview because it is confidential.

  • Goins, Naeem C, and Samantha Davis. “8 The Book: Interviews.” 12 Jan. 2018. During our interview, Sam was very open to talk about her deep connection with the good times and bad. She first started talking about her social skills being an only child, which both me and her share. Then, skin color became the topic of conversation. As a woman of color, Sam talk to me about the hardships with having a dark complexion. She never felt truly accepted or attractive to the people who share her skin color. She even shed light on people perception of her because of her personality and her family.

  • Goins, Naeem C, and Tatiana V Rivera. “8 The Book: Interviews.” 12 Jan. 2018. This source help me by becoming one of the interviews that inspired a poem in my book. Tatiana came into the interview already comfortable because we had deep conversations before. It seem like she couldn't wait to talk to me about her life and situations, good and bad. She first talk about her contribution to her home. Working under the table jobs, sacrificing her youth to mature quicker for her siblings, and her relationship with her mom. She found her peace when coming to Science Leadership Academy where she found that she had many opportunities. She inspire me to make a heartfelt poem that require me to do a lot of self examining in order to put myself in her shoes.


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Na'eem Film Review

Posted by Naeem Goins in Intersectional Feminism · Menasion · e1 Band on

The Bechdel Test is a a set of rules that include these 3 simple guidelines: The has to have at least two women in it, who talk to each other, and talk  about something besides a man. The Bechdel was created by Liz Wallace and introduced by Alison Bechdel in 1985. During this time, the test became a huge discussion in feminist circles and, later,  became known internationally in Sweden. Simply, the test came from two women conversing with each other about something other than men. Support for women with big roles is very rare in this decade. In 2011, eleven out of the top one-hundred movies had film leads.

The Mako Mori test judges test, following these guidelines: at least on female character, a female who gets her own narrative arc, the plot is not about supporting a man’s story. It was created on tumblr in the middle of a conversation between Chaila and spider-xan. Both blogger usernames. Spider-xan was questioning feminist critiques on the portrayal of women in the film Pacific Rim. The film had already failed the Bechdel test because the women in the film never spoke to each other. Spider-xan was against the Bechdel Test because the film did have a woman of color who had a well developed role in the film. Chailia supported spiders-xan reason and came up with a test that only addresses the character development of female characters in movies. From 2013 and forward, the Mako Mori test was supported in the film fan community.

 

The film I reviewed is ¨Straight Outta Compton.¨ Straight outta compton is a biopic of the huge rap group in the mid 80s called NWA. The film tells the story of how five young black men from Compton grew into successful rap artist and used their platform to talk about police brutality and the hood. Straight Outta Compton received major success, receiving $129,402,415 at the boxoffice and great ratings from critics. It being a huge film in 2015, I wanted to closer analysis. Though the film is centered around three men, Straight Outta Compton was lacking in female representation. There was more scenes where a female is being treated as property you can buy or make fun of. I did not want to base my analysis only on my own observations and opinions so I decided to watch the film again. This time, I watched the film and judged it on the Bechdel Test. The Bechdel Test is a a set of rules that include these 3 simple guidelines: The has to have at least two women in it, who talk to each other, and talk  about something besides a man. Now there are numerous women to come up in Straight Outta Compton with the groupies, girlfriends, wives, and mothers. Their were even scenes that had a room full of women. The only issue is that none of got more than 2 phrases to say. No full sentences or scene of them by themselves. Most of the scene that did involve women were scenes that show women in sexual acts. The girls were all naked getting tossed around by men. They even had a scene where a man came to a hotel room looking for his girlfriend. After a long standoff that involve pointing guns, the group yanked the girl out of the room with nothing on but panties. There were a galore of scenes that showed girls being lusted on, taking off their clothes, and worshipping men. Now some may argue that these females in the film chose to be treated like that. It's true but the fact that those are the only kind of females that are shown in a biopic tells me that NWA did not respect women. Two of them had girlfriends that were in the background with nothing more than two lines in the whole film. Everytime I women spoke it was about how successful a man is, building the male ego. Straight Outta Compton is a great movie because it truly shows what happens behind the scenes of some of the biggest names in music. How objective women are treated in the entertainment industry is disgusting.

 

 

 


INDEPENDENT WOMAN test

A test for movies where the protagonist is the female. Films where there's a independent female lead, who isn’t a victim of violence by men, and goals aren't to find a man or get revenge. It is important for a film to meet this criteria because children need to see more representation of strong independent females in films. Every movie I saw with a female lead, she either conforming to masculine standards in order to progress, abused by a man, or apart of a team. In society today, the standards forced on women has never changed. From elementary school to careers, women are taught to be in competition against other women in all aspects in life. For a lady, you have to dress the best, be more successful, have the biggest butt and chest, and ultimately, get married with children before 30. It's a toxic mindset that is carried over through generations like a curse and a lot women go through life fighting in a game they can’t win. Since films are one of the major media outlets in the world, it's important for them to have better representation of all women and not just the ones who confide their worth in man or pleasure. The last movie I ever saw where the main female had a strong lead was the Hunger Games. Though it's a great film to review, I felt that most films with independent female leads always had the female in violent situations. “She has to have a weapon and kill the bad guys because a strong female is a female that knows how to use a gun.” This quote represents americas definition for strong female leads in media. I wanted to use a movie that has a strong female role in other areas besides violence.


Black Swan

A movie that pases the Indepent WOMAN test is Black Swan. Not only does it have an independent female lead but a strong plot. Black Swan is about this ballerina who won a audition for a show called, “Black Swan.” Everyone in the film thought of her as being this fragile girl who is easy to manipulate but she ends up proving them all wrong. The protagonist takes on the mental component of winning the role and have hallucinations of her turning into a swan, indulging in her deepest desire, and  even killing someone. Black Swan has a strong symbolic story that confuses a lot and make you want to watch it a few more times to catch things you probably missed. You can tell that the writers behind this movie took a lot of time to artistically create the beginning and end of perfection. The only conflict is that she lost the ability to understand what is real and fake. In the end, she morphs into this strong woman without the help of a man or friends. This is why Black Swan passes the Independent WOMAN test. I don't want to spoil too much of the film, Id rather yall watch to see what I mean.



Na'eem Q4

Posted by Naeem Goins in Advanced Art · Hull · x1 Band on
For my last quarter, I really exercised all my skills I learned throughout this year to create beautiful. My first assignment was very digital so it was exciting making art without a piece of paper! Then I went into body sketches which is always tough to execute. After that, I learned about sketching in 30 seconds which wasn't fun. I then took a try at digital art again. I will have to say that the optical illusion project was my favorite. I really enjoyed this quarter art!

I' M AL L S MI L E S

Posted by Naeem Goins in Creative Writing · Giknis · x2 Band on

Tape Files

 

Part 1

https://drive.google.com/open?id=0B4ZOPdiMlTOkQnVkekU4OXJqZnc

 

Part 2

https://drive.google.com/open?id=0B4ZOPdiMlTOkTEJBYlBhaXFCdkk

 

Part 3

https://drive.google.com/open?id=0B4ZOPdiMlTOkcjhEV0hXUHJrb3M

 

 

 

“I’m all smiles”

The story of the 18 years old Cameron who had an summerfling with his celebrity crush and found out months later that his ex boyfriend had HIV.

 

 

Characters and background story:

 

Isaiah- The 18 year old boy who is openly gay. He just started having sex once he turned 16 and only got tested once. It never occurred to him that he could ever get an std because all the men he been with looked clean. He went to a football game and got backstage passes to meet the team. He lingered towards one of the teammates who kept giving him compliments. They exchanged phone numbers and became a fling. Isaiah thought they would be more. Once he found out he was HIV positive, he had to figure out a way to tell this professional basketball player. Finding out the basketball player has a family and been lien to him this whole time, Isaiah  tries to break the news to him without sounding too bitter or sorrow.

 

Thomas- The 25 year old basketball player with a family and a secret relationship with Isaiah.

What is their correspondence about? Their communications must:


Love Is All We Need

Posted by Naeem Goins in Creative Writing · Giknis · x2 Band on

                                                      


                                                        LOVE IS ALL WE NEED




I believe in love. The historical lust that was suddenly accepted because of God. Love has many forms. Not always good but never wrong. Sexually, romantically, and even hate. Some of our love stems from fear. It's love that gets me boxed up and hiding from an open window. It's love that makes me crazy enough to run outside in the middle of a thunderstorm at 1am and cry on the benches at 6. It's always stalking me. Haunting my flesh and making it sin. Giving me a thirst for action, love is always missing. It's like you could never get enough of it. I got some stories to tell....


Almost a decade ago, I met my dad. I can remember everything like it happened yesterday. My aunt gets into a car accident with my uncle. They make an connection with my mom. My mom then connect to my grandmother. There I am, sitting on my grand mothers couch. Staring at family pics knowing I'm not in none of them. Love hurts. It's dangerous to look at. I had this big smile on my face. A smile that was glazed in sweat created by nervousness.  Then my father came. The smile grew more. We took family photos and I even worked with him the next day. That's was the last time I ever saw him.    How can you love someone after two days when they been neglecting you for 12 years? It was my first heartbreak and I wasn't present to know. I believed every little bull shit of a lie that he told me. All the things he would do for me. All the things he hoped of me becoming. I could finally call someone dad without having that second thought. He never told me he love me. At Least, I don't think I ever heard him say that word . Maybe he did and I just forgot because I knew it was a lie.  It never really matter to me though because I already had a love growing on him. Now I'm heart broken again and calling random men "daddy". Love makes you do crazy things.


Butterflies drifted away. The sun stood still. My eyes never opened that day. How can love do me like this? How dare it take away my pride and  throw away my vision? Why did love make me blind? I never fell. I tripped on flat ground, treated it like a fall. I can't stop eating. Im gaining weight. No one's checking on me. My insecurities look so beautiful to me. If looks can be deceiving then why do we die from the same trick?


That day, love did not exist. It giggled at me while holding my veins tight. It embrace my body and ripped every man made thing off of me. It knew what it was doing. I am dumb and naive. I am dumb and wise. I am wise yet dumb. The setting was so perfect. It smelt so pretty. It felt so good. It read me like a  dog begging to go outside to pee. All it had to do was unlock a few things and put a leash on me. Now the door is open. I only wanted to rest. Love woke me up. It made my words seem like corny excuses so I had to allow it. Love assaulted me that day. I went out to celebrate. I wanted love to assault me again and again and again. I try finding it in many other forms. It died. If It can die than it must've lived at some point. For it to live then it must've been real. It is real because I was forced to believe in it. I know it exist. I feel it everyday. I use it everyday. I taste it twice a week and I listen to it once every five years. I believe in love.


Na'eem Artist statement

Posted by Naeem Goins in Advanced Art · Hull · x1 Band on
For my quarter 3 art, I wanted to explore the powers of shading and mimicking. I first started off by drawing a bike. I haven't rode a bike in years so this was challenging. After going through the hard stages, I added my own twist on the bike's design. My next assignment was the optical ollisiun assignment where I did an eye. I learned a lot about shading. Then, I had the shading form assignment where my shading skills were put to the test with shading three different shapes. Right after that, I had an eye drawing. I tried my hardest to draw my own eye. The last assignment was my favorite. We had to draw an mandala. I did the ying yang sign and tried to add these cool colors and designs. I really enjoyed the turn out of all the assignments.

The Enjoyment of Justifying

Posted by Naeem Goins in English 3 · Block/Franz/Taylor-Baranik · E Band on
For my last essay, I wanted to go down a different route than what I am used to. I decided to analyze text and do reflections on what I got from the sources. My essay expands on the idea of violence to a soldier and militarism to an american child. I experienced very little writer blocks and wrote more than expected. I ended up with about 2000 words and the limit was suppose to be 750. I had to narrow it down to 900 and take out a lot of my quotes. I couldn't cut down to the 750 mark because it would of effected the flow and took out a lot of strong  points. 

NA'EEM GOINS

Living in a society where violence is accepted, to what degree, mentally, can violence be justified for the better even when you are the doer?


Militarism and Violence  have held a critical device that shaped us into the people we raise today.  Dating back to the biblical ages with David and Goliath and the drowning of Pharaoh's Army, the interrelation of militarism and violence have been a widely accepted motive. It is the key to survival that involve strategies even God himself has used. With this information, I found my next question. How can humans live in society without the use of violence or some form of militarism? The answer being that we can’t. It’s our foundation and what helps keep the world spinning. It is  okay to learn about violence.  By  accepting it , we are able to  determine if violence should actually be reflected upon as a negative tool. I revisited many  articles, in search of perspective of war veterans and children. I figured that veterans come home to expect there to be an uproar of violence while  children are viewed as soldiers who need to be against violence but enjoy it at the same time because implementing it is a great way to blow off steam. It amazes me how contradicting and framed mentally a society as one can think. It can’t be widely accepted for veterans of all ages to be treated with a superb lenses because of their violence by entertainment and smiles. Children who produces violence are only widely accepted when it’s either done in the dark or for the benefits of the great U.S.A.


Young minds can blossom like a butterfly when manipulated.  This is a highly shared  thought between older beings when it come to the youth. The military has enforced propaganda on students to join the fight. At a very young age, I felt that violence was accepted because the schools allowed the army to come in and give us the cool key chains and posters that were dedicated to joining the fight. I’m referring to fight as the war against terror and protecting this country. It is an honor to sign your life over at 18 and fight in a war without knowing exactly why we're fighting  in the war. The lack of knowledge could be a reason for why so many veterans are scared mentally because they would not know what they are getting themselves into. This robe of honor that we give the army sergeants who promote the fight  has turned them into people  not being obligated to share the gruesome details involving the fight. The same obligation we force on the young minds to share every piece of action that happen when they got into a fight over a disagreement. In an interview titled Forced to Fight, Charbonneau explicitly gave  his opinion through an adult perspective by saying “These children live in constant fear of being killed by the troops if they don't obey. Many of them are being tortured and raped. "Unfortunately there are 'advantages' to using children for armed groups: Children are cheap fighters and easy to manipulate. They are often drugged and indoctrinated with propaganda and movies before they are sent out to fulfill their missions The psychodynamics of the TV cartoon or comic book are marvelously simple: children identify with the good guy so that they can think of themselves as good. This enables them to project onto the bad guy their own repressed anger, violence, rebelliousness, or lust and then vicariously to enjoy their own evil by watching the bad guy initially prevail.” The merriam dictionary definition of violence is an intense, turbulent, or furious and often destructive action or force. A children’s cartoon expose a hidden truth insides each human. We are all violent by nature. There is negative energy that we all bound up because we don’t want to create violence but have no problem forcing that same energy on someone we feel deserves it.

In order to enjoy being the creator of violence, you will have to believe that you are right. When Justifying a force of violence on someone, the defense story comes up. You want to propose to the witnesses that you were defending yourself or someone else. Though you smiled or cheered because you had the upper hand, we try to forgive ourselves because we hate the feeling of guilt. Not every situation is avoidable and violence can never be justified. However, observing this idea through the lenses of  a soldier, justifying violence can be a coping mechanism in the conscious. In war, soldiers are the suspect, victim, and witness of violence. With a gun in their hands and a big playfield to damage up, the feeling of sympathy for other humans are quickly non existent. Instead, the battlefield becomes an illusion of the mind where every one is the target and as long as there are sounds of screaming and bullets, violence is in the air. In the soldier mind, killing the enemy is the only way to suck the violence out of the air. Though it may sound horrible from the outside looking in, soldiers are taking their repressed negative energies out on the battlefield. The same way children compare themselves to the good superhero and enforce their own repressed violence on the bad guy. In both scenarios, the doer is responding in violence with the help of personal issues.

Militarism and violence should never be enjoyed. We can’t enforce violence with our own personal repression or militarize someone else because they are easy to manipulate. This is what leads to the decline of governments and start of an barbaric nature, both interior and exterior. For a change in society, we must acknowledge the fact that violence and militarism will always be a necessity. We can't go against it or be patriots of its actions. Treat both actions as sentimental principles instead or ways to protect the alpha status. Violence is not something that needs justification when being used in an militarism culture.


BIBLIOGRAPHY





Na'eem Post

Posted by Naeem Goins in English 3 · Block/Franz/Taylor-Baranik · E Band on
https://drive.google.com/drive/u/0/folders/0B4ZOPdiMlTOkRURQS2pEVjhTcDA

For this project, I decided to interview my cousin. My goals were to show wisdom and work through the eyes of a child. I experience many challenges and ended in a tragedy.  My podcast kept deleting and I ended up doing the same thing over and over again. I'm sorry that soundtrap deleted the last part of my interview so you wont get hear the main idea of my cousin dreams and whats she wants to be when she gets older. 

Na'eem Artist Statement

Posted by Naeem Goins in Advanced Art · Hull · x1 Band on
For my second quarter, I created a lot of diverse art. I started off with using pastels for my first assignment. It was tough for me because I never used pastels. For my second assignment, I decided to try shading in faces. I try to study the human bone structure when making this piece. For the third assignment, I used art apps to make my sketches come alive. I recreated my inspirations, Jhené, SZA, and FKA twigs. For my last assignment, I went around the city to take pictures that had depth in field. This was the most fun assignment because I got to photoshop later on.

Advanced Essay #3 : Social Media got the tea

Posted by Naeem Goins in English 3 · Block/Franz/Taylor-Baranik · E Band on
Intro
My goals for this paper was to bring up the point on how we as a society, values social media more than how we truly feel. In fact, we change our opinions based off of the dominant trend on social media. Using evidence and statistics, I want the reader to come upon the idea that social media is a curse if we are not careful. The process aspect of my paper was very challenging. I changed paragraphs and got writer block and I know this essay isnt what I want it to be right now. 

ESSAY
 

In the turn of this decade, Social media became the new voice for millions of people. From internet dating to international scamming, people created profiles that best describes the personality they want others to see. Though popular social websites such as Facebook, Twitter, and others  can be the place to connect, people tend to mistaken it for free therapy sessions. People haphazardly create profiles to express everything on their mind about sensitive topics without considering the consequences that could bring. When their thoughts become social media posts, they can be perceived as racial slurs, misogynistic views, homophobic hatred, etc. It can lead to people getting unemployed, exposed, lives ruined, and even death. All of those in which are made possible because of how social media runs the world around us.


Businesses hire their employees based off of their social network accounts, modern drama is normally based off of a social media post, and people are defining each other according to how popular they are on the newest social app. People look at social media for identity and guidance. They value its opinion over their own. This turned people into making decisions based off of what others say and post.


The Atlantic stated “The more than 63 million active users of FarmVille spend an average of 15 minutes a day pretending to run a farm. Over the course of a year, that's 5,475 minutes -- the equivalent of a full-time job for over two weeks”. Social media can be bad when someone invest more time into it than they would, a job. When people pretend to do real life activities on social media, it waste up time they could be spending actually doing something productive. They start to care more for getting virtual gems than taking care of themselves.


When a person start basing decisions off of a social media opinion, the ugly in that person is exposed. The murder of  “The Kim Kardashian of  Pakistan”, Qandeel Baloch, perfectly demonstrates this idea. Though her father accepted her rebellious social media lifestyle, her brother allowed it to drive him to kill her. In fact, when being asked about his motive, he replies "I am proud of what I did. I drugged her first, then I killed her. She was bringing dishonor to our family." If Waseem really had a hatred for his sister choices, he would of been killed her. I came to that conclusion because when speaking of what led to her dying, he only mentions the reaction social media had on her posts. He had ill feelings about her becoming so popular for something that he simply doesn't agree with and then tried to claim that her death was for the honor of his family though the family was tolerable with her lifestyle.


Besides ending a life, social media can also destroy one. I would like to bring up the point that people carelessly post about their everyday life on social media like it’s a diary. They expect no one to read it let alone, disagree with them. Let's take former IAC director of corporate communications, Justine Sacco, tweets for example. On a plane ride back to Africa, she tweeted “Going to Africa. Hope I don’t get AIDS. Just kidding. I’m white!” That one post made her the number one trending topic on twitter. She lost her job after people asking them to through social media. This show how much power social networks has over our lives and its value. It’s important for us to be careful  not to offend any one when posting but I am always left with the question, why do we judge a person off of their social media posts if we never met them in person?


Having my fair share of basing decisions off of what social media says, I took the way I was presented on my social media profile, seriously. Going through different phases, my profile would change with it. Social media was becoming the main outlet for me to express who I am. My family had a issue with some of the things I would put out on social media. I did not realize they did until my mother talked to me about her sister calling her about my Instagram username. At the time, my username was “phvckyouropnion”. She felt as if it was inappropriate to have cuss words on my profile though it was spelled different. I had to change it because my mom did not want my aunt to have a issue with my profile. I came to the realization that people truly do value a social media opinion over their own.


Social media has always been an important aspect to society. We promote businesses, celebrate birthdays, debate, date, and everything else, on social media. It made some of us famous while others, died.  In all reality, social media have a larger voice than our own. People always say “ actions speak louder than words” but as this decade slowly close out, I’m starting to understand that a  post has a pedestal over actions. We are what we put out in the social network.

CITATION

  • Perry, Jullet. "Brother 'proud' of killing Pakistan social media star." CNN. Cable News Network, n.d. Web. 17 Jan. 2017. This source is to help me find a great example for why social media is valued more.

  • Jackson, Nicholas. "Infographic: The American Identity According to Social Media." The Atlantic. Atlantic Media Company, 16 Aug. 2011. Web. 17 Jan. 2017.

  • Donovan, Laura. "These 4 People's Lives Were Ruined By The Internet." ATTN:. ATTN, 16 Jan. 2016. Web. 17 Jan. 2017.

Artist Statement

Posted by Naeem Goins in Advanced Art · Hull · x1 Band on
For the first quarter, my art course has been let out of expression. Getting permission to paint Black Lives Matter on a ceiling tile that anyone who enters the school can see, I knew I had artistic freedom. That making me even more comfortable with my style of art with my next piece,"SZA". Her music brings me a fall nostalgic vibe so I knew she had to be the person behind my creation. Ending this quarter, my final piece was a self portrait. Being the most challenging assignment in the class, I had to spend a lot more time redesigning each line.

The Boy with the Lypse

Posted by Naeem Goins in English 3 · Block/Franz/Taylor-Baranik · E Band on

Introduction: In the making of this essay, it was very new to me. It brung me out of my comfort zone. My goal was to show versatility in my writing and do something different. I hope the reader enjoy



Til this day, I can still  remember why my voice was a burden to literacy. Times where my classmates would giggle  when I was called on to read because they thought I sound like a girl. When I stuttered while speaking about something that  made me excited but would leave feeling sad because I overheard my friends mocking me. No one could understand what i was saying and that threw a lot of problems at me. Speaking is not a strength that I would put on a job application. Throughout my entire life, my different experiences with literacy would only be defined positive if I read it clearly. My words never mattered to people but if I could get them to fall in love with the way I said those words, I’d be a master at rocket science or at least got them to forget about my lypse. Literacy is not always what you write down but how you communicate it to the listener, something I learned the hard way.

Preschool was the first time I ever knew I had a problem talking. I remember saying the “A,B,C’s” over and over again because I talked different from the rest of the kids. Another kid and  I shared a voice tutor. A fragile blonde would come every week to pull us out of class and teach us how to read words on a card out loud. I couldn't stop looking at the other boy head because he had this nasty braid on the top of his neck. In fact, I was more interested in imagining getting a pair of scissors and cutting that thing off than learning how to talk properly. The lady would put a card in my face and made weird tongue gestures at me to help me pronounciat. With word combinations like “ dirty and thirty, king and cane, trousers and trials, I designed a world of mistakes. Saying them out loud sounded like my tongue was putting two different words in a blender and trying to communicate with one.  I could never say any of those words correctly or to the standards of dominant society. In this case, the classroom because my teachers believed I had a bad lypse, forgetting the fact that I can read  the entire Dr. Seuss series without any mistakes.

That preschool experience had me really thinking that maybe I shouldn't speak at all. I was scared of reading anything out loud, especially in front of grown ups because that they felt like I didn't know how to talk.

My speaking problems followed me all the way through elementary school as that would be my first experience with reading passages. It was fourth grade, Mr. Kris class. We were  face down in our text books. Mr. Kris was randomly choosing students to read. “What if people laugh? I don't know how to pronounce this word? I hope he doesnt call on me.”, is all I kept thinking while a student was being called on, one by one. Some were reading slow, fast, and even skipping words. I tend to notice that though they all had different styles of speech, their tones were acceptable. The girls sounded like girls and the guys sounded like guys, voices ranging from squeeky to creepy. Then the teacher called on me. My eyes locked  on the words as if they were trying to hold on to a boat that is slowly sinking into an ocean full of snakes.  My mouth begin to move as if it was being directed by my view. This is not how I imagine my voice sounding in my mind. It was fruity yet shrill and I stuttered  a lot on words that I knew how to say, at least in my mind. Every word pass through my teeth as sweat fall an inch closer down my face. When I finished the section, I looked up like I just ran a marathon. We had free time after we were finish the class work. Everyone was talking to each other and not about the reading. I tried to socialize with my classmates but was quickly shut down by them. A boy asked me why do I talk like I have spit in my mouth? Then another one told me I sound like I just got finished drinking a gallon of maple syrup with a follow up question, “Are you gay?”. From then on, I never volunteered to read in class ever again.


Never truly knowing exactly why a voice can invent so much harm, I grew into a man that was expected to be raised by an stereotyped environment that reflected the  color of my skin with no self confidence. Already dealing with identity problems, words were quickly taken away from my expression. A reality that will rip away a tongue that sounds different from what they know,I had to learn to just keep it to myself. What's the point in learning literature if the way someone sounds is the key to what defines them? That question rebirthed my way of thinking for all these years. It was my reason for not pursuing excellence or speaking up for myself. Missing out on so many opportunities, I knew I had to find an answer.


Growing up in the projects, I had to learn that certain tones of voice wasn't ok where I lived. Your voice had to be deep and sound like you highest education was a mcdonald's promotion to rapper. No matter what, a guy had to sound like a guy. Since I didn't, I was consider “soft” so everyone picked on me but this soft boy fought back. My mother always told me , “Never let another man run you into your own home.” In the environment I was raised in, I had to wear her words like they were tattooed on my forehead.  It brung me enough courage to make friends. All the boys would go and play football in this neighbor’s lawn. One day, I decided to go over there to play football with the guys. Looking at a group of pit bulls and one bone,  I knew I was getting myself into a deeper pool of uneasiness. I asked one of the guys if I could play and all he said in return was, “ You sound white. Why you always talking like a girl, you faggot?”. Standing in the corner with a group of eyes staring at me and mouths that produced only laughter, I couldn't help but have flashbacks of those words being thrown at me from different voices. I was fed up and just started fighting every boy that ever said that to me. That ever  made a joke about my speech.  

I thought being a fighter would work but quickly learned the other side of kids in middle school. Going to a strict private christian school, I quickly figured that some opinions of me just wasn't going to change. From the first day, my classmates had a problem with how I talk. They thought I sounded to ghetto and even mistaken my words for cuss words so they couldn't wait to tell a teacher. I never got snitched on so many times in my entire life. I felt to poor and ghetto to be in that school. I thought I would fit in because I was too white for the ghetto but now that I wasn't even welcome here, acceptance was my only option.


Letting my voice ring through the halls and streets, I try to let go of that hatred I had for my voice. I started writing again and made sure that english was always my favorite class.  Coming into high school with a different attitude, my voice was shot down again and this time by a teacher. It was my spanish teacher. We always had to speak in different languages during the course of his class. Since my grade was a struggling C in his class, there was no question that I was one of his worst students. I couldn't understand spanish if  it was to save my life. One day in class, I raised my hand to read out my sentences for that morning warm up. When finished, my eyes slowly looked over to my friend who was fluent in spanish. He gave me a thumb up so I thought I did a good job. Next thing to happen was a rain of laughter coming from the teacher. He stared at me and ask if I was from the south. I told him I have southern roots and he responded with “ I can tell. You remind me of when I used to teach in Alabama.  You need to learn how to pronounce your words correctly and speak clearly because I didn't understand anything you just said. I hope you're not dreaming of being a reporter with that voice.” His criticism was followed by a room with eyes that covered its walls, staring through my clothes like I was naked. The only thing that I heard at that point was giggling that turned into laughter. At that moment, I just wanted  to be lifted up and flown away from  the world.

Either I talk like a girl, sound like i'm white,  or  read like I was just finished drinking a bottle of syrup. People were never interested in what I would actually say, making my opinions and statements  irrelevant in society. I felt invisible to society even though I only aimed for average because average is cool, at least in yesterday society.  Today I am fed up of yesterday’s society. I was so worried on my voice that I never got to finish that Dr. Seuss book. I never got to understand exactly how to write or tell the difference between a pronoun, adjective, and conjunction. No, I was told to be more worried about how I sound to other people. How can I truly master  one of the beauties in literacy when i'm told that the only thing people care about is my voice? “ I will no longer be made to feel ashamed of existing. I will have my voice. Just like Azadula said, in How To Tame a Wild Tongue, “ I will have my woman’s voice, my sexual voice, my poet’s voice. I will overcome the tradition of silence.” . I love everything about my cold broken voice. Through my voice is a literacy of itself  and unless you're  reading it, don't tell me how to express it.





Origami Killer

Posted by Naeem Goins in Creative Writing · Giknis · x2 Band on
First thank you for reading my work. The piece I created was a story that was inspired by a lot of different outlets that included symbolism. I hope my readers are able to decifer this unfinished demo to a much broader story. Oh trust me, it gets deeper than what your about to read. Here is the link-
http://ngoins.wixsite.com/nagoi

The Beauty in both Terror and Reality

Posted by Naeem Goins in English 3 · Block/Franz/Taylor-Baranik · E Band on 
    The beauty in both terror and reality

Is it wrong to find pleasure in a place of torment? Those nostalgic feelings that continue to grow on you over the years The happiness. Then there's those dark memories. The ones you don’t want to go back to but at the same time, can’t wait to find someone who share similar experiences. Fears is what led me to these unexpected situations. It is what drew me closer to darkness. The horror movies, the video games, the websites, seeing some messed up things had brang me so much joy as a kid. It was all fun and games until the night crept in. When everything turns off and the only light you  had was the moon but even that wasn’t strong enough to save you from the horrors that haunt you. The terrors that made you feel alone and i'm not talking actually alone. The type of loneliness you have when you're the weakest one in the room. I had quite a few lovely experiences with darkness himself. I hope to not see him again. 


Friday night, at 7:30pm. My parents are downstairs so I can watch wrestling on the tv in their room. While i'm downstairs, I stared at the staircase. All I saw was a big shadow that was coming from the upstairs, pure darkness. I  walk up the stairs, step by step very cautiously and slowly the light that once guided me, faded to black. I see a painting in the far distance. Everytime I step a little bit closer to it, another human figure will appear on the painting. I examined the picture and remember the man in the white tank top all the way on the side of the painting. It creeped me out and gave me these chills so I turned around in the direction of my parents room. Still in a darkness. 

Walking into my parents room, I quickly turned on the light and then the tv. The room had this safezone feeling with it’s warm colors that laid on me. I changed the channel to the CW where “Friday Night Smackdown!” came on and laid on the bed. Though the room light was on, the hallway was still pitch black. The darkness wasn't pleasant. It was the type of darkness that a kid would get lost in. Though I was disturbed by it, I was also curious. I would take a walk in the darkest place on earth. I may not of been able to see with my earthly eyes but I can see anything with my conscious  that has a mind of its own. Though I was watching my favorite show, the hallway seemed more interesting. Every 5 minutes, I would stare at it. Seeing patterns and shadow, the hallway was speaking to me. It revealed that painting of the dancing spirits to me. Even with the darkness, the painting felt so vivid.  I went back to watching tv. The hallway tone started to get louder as I tried to ignore it. It got to the point that I just had to turn around and look. This time I look, I saw one of the figures from the painting. The man in the white tank top was standing there in the hallway. He was covered in the darkness but his white tank top wasn't. His white tank top is what led my eyes. He never looked at me. I felt like he knew I was there but he just kept staring to the left where my bedroom was. It was like he was watching something in there. As I continue to stare, I start to notice gunshot wounds on his shirt. Each one having a black cherry hole with red blood slithering through the white material of his shirt. He had very strong arms. Those type of arms that just symbolized strength and agony. A working man arm.

He had this scent about him that just made him bigger than he appear. It wasn’t natural at all. He just shifted through the hall way and stop in front of my bedroom. He just stood there. I blinked and he was gone and so was the darkness.

That night, changed my whole view on ghosts and spirits. I thought Id freak out if that ever happen. It felt like someone stitched my clothes to the bed so I wouldn't move. I was such a shy kid that I didn't even want to breath loudly for the man to hear me. I wasn't afraid. I had fear but it was non existent that night. I never told anybody about that because I easily forgotten about it. It felt normal for the two worlds of living and dead to be together. It felt like the human form of darkness.

Around that same year, I had another experience with the darkness. This time It was late at night. I went to bed that night like any other night. I was just laying down with my blanket over me, starring at the ceiling. My light was off and my door was wide open. I always hated my door being open. Something kept me up all night. It was like my mind was just racing with so many thoughts of going to sleep and never waking back up. I was scared of the darkness that night. I just kept staring at the ceiling that was lighting up from the bright tv that was on. I kept dozing off to sleep but I didn’t want to. I was afraid of having a nightmare because of all the scary things that wrapped my mind around them. I had no controlling over what I was thinking so I just decided to try and stay up. I just remember staring at the ceiling and then not hearing the tv no more. I try turning my head at it, thinking maybe i put it on mute, but I couldn’t. In fact, I couldn’t move none of my body. It was like a huge weight was just laying on top of me. Like a very strong man or something. I thought if I scream maybe my parents would hear me but I couldn’t. I had no control over my mouth. It was like something had its claws over my hand and its fingers in my mouth because it was hard to breath. I couldn’t move anything on my body but my eyes and man were they wondering. I just kept looking around and around. All i saw was darkness from the hallway. Every time a scene will change from television, a new shadow would appear in front of my door. Making everything go black. So much darkness danced in front of me. Like a show full of ghost and one of them just layed on top of me with its hand on my neck and mouth on mines. I wasn’t myself. I didn’t want to close my eyes. I didn’t want to see those thoughts come to life but they did. They stayed their, one getting closer to my bed and then the other. It was like my soul wanted to up lift itself and run to the light. With all that going on, everything just suddenly stopped. It was all back to normal.

That night felt like a long show that I was being forced to watch. When I think about , I imagine cold dirty hands grabbing on my upper arms. I feel a nasty long black tongue going down my throat to taste my vocal cords. That experience was freaky and gave me a new concept of darkness. How darkness can make someone feel so weak. This time felt like the physical form of darkness.

Then there was the outter body experience I had around the same age. The main difference is that this time, it was after dawn. I was sleeping down stairs that night. I’m on one couch and my sister is on the other. I woke up that morning, and just stared at her for a second. The sun gave off this golden light through the house. It made everything feel so alive. I got up and walked a few steps forward just to turn around and saw myself laying on the couch, sleep. It almost took the life out of me. I was up and walking but at the same time, I never left that couch. I couldn’t speak but I don’t think I even thought of spoken. It was like simple logic just left my body as fast as I did. Maybe I was dead I thought but my body laying there was breathing. I then thought that maybe it was my soul or subconscious. Nothing was making sense until the next weird thing happen. My full sight just changed into this picture of Abraham Lincoln. It was a very old picture. It made me wonder even more because Abraham Lincoln died on my birthday. It was a very gritty yet real picture of him. The presence of it got into my thoughts and try to choke me. The spirit of the painting swayed a way into the publes of my eyes and stabbed a chain in them so I wouldn’t look away. His lips were shut like they never opened for a thousand years. He stared deeply into my body and frozen my heart for me. Then the picture moved and so did what I was viewing. It was now a picture of Abraham Lincoln’s Skeleton. The vivid colors cause by lack of flesh, made the picture even more of mystery. I didn’t want my heart to beat while all of this was happening. I didn’t want any sign of life to remind me of what set me apart from what I was experiencing. I didn’t want the darkness to know that I was still alive. I just wanted to dance with it. I wanted to be friends with the black rainbow because both me and it experience something in common. No one ever caring to truly understand the works of something that’s not like them. Something that is only celebrated by those who learn to simply accept it.

I may lived through those beautiful experiences with black. Just promise me that you will never go home as I, myself, fade to black.
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