Let's say a truthful man was at the bank and he saw a robbery take place right in front of his eyes. Would you rely on that man for information about what they recall during that instance? I would expect this truthful man to tell the story as the way it happened and according to the article on Eyewitness by Hal Arkowitz, Scott O. Lilienfeld, jurors also heavily rely on information provided by eyewitnesses. Eyewitness testimony is a trusted source of information and has been that way for a long time. However, study has shown that eyewitness testimony might not actually be a reliable source of information. It’s apparently not a rare case that during these types of situations, people recall the wrong information. In 1984, a man named Kirk Bloodsworth was charged and sentenced to nine years in prison because the statements given by five eyewitnesses were very heavily weighted during the session. Years later, DNA testing proved him to be innocent.

Psychologists have found that when people recall memories, they’re alway changing the details of it. In the famous Lost in the Mall experiment, the subjects recalled information more detailed as time passed and 48% of what the subjects stated were false. It’s easy for our brains to implant memories that never occurred. Elizabeth Loftus, a cognitive psychologist, worked endlessly to prove how memories could be so distorted and richly wrong. She’s experimented numerous times implanting memories and studying its results, she states that sharing these information to learn how to prevent memory implant is better than covering it up. It has been reported that “73 percent of the 239 convictions overturned through DNA testing were based on eyewitness testimony.” Cases involving conviction of innocent people are 70% of the time rooted from eyewitness misidentification according to John Bohannon’s article on Science magazine. It is crucial that the justice system adjust and reconsider eyewitness testimony looking at these research and statistics.

There is the misconception about how the memory works and this truly creates our society to rely on eyewitness information causing many complications especially in our justice system. I think there needs to be more research and experiments completed to understand exactly how and why that occurs. As Loftus has stated, we need to work to protect ourselves from misleading preconceptions and uncover as much information about it as possible. Doing that will allow right judgement on cases like Kirk Bloodsworth.    

Sources:

http://www.cnn.com/2013/05/18/health/lifeswork-loftus-memory-malleability/

http://www.scientificamerican.com/article/do-the-eyes-have-it/

http://www.sciencemag.org/news/2015/12/eyewitness-testimony-may-only-be-credible-under-these-circumstances

Having been in America for over nine years now, I have always loved the diversity of culture and race within my surroundings. It’s fascinating hearing and seeing the colorful facet of varying cultures. However, it’s distressing when I tell people about my culture and where I’m from because they’re so unaware of it. A culture so rich and beautiful, yet so invisible to people. Also, to be frank, I did not know much about my culture and my country, Tibet, as well as I should have. Through this year long project, I wanted to reach out to people through digital media, an ubiquitous tool around the world, to teach about Tibet and to teach myself about its history.

A 40 ft storm surge with winds traveling at incredibly high speeds hit the port city of Coringa in Andhra Pradesh, India on November 25th, 1839. The city itself and twenty thousand ships and vessels destroyed. Approximately three hundred thousand people dead. This could be one the world’s most deadliest cyclone ever seeing it’s destructions.

The city being located near the mouth of the Godavari River on the southeastern coast of India, sea-borne trade thrived. Shipbuilding and repairing was a factor Coringa was well known for. However, this deadly cyclone has undoubtedly disordered the city and its daily functionings. Coringa once showed resilience after its first cyclone in 1789 that left about twenty thousand people dead. But the present wreckage has challenged their character of resiliency. 

"Heritage Status for Tallarevu, Coringa Ports." The Hindu. 22 Nov. 2009. Web. 4 Feb. 2015. <http://www.thehindu.com/todays-paper/tp-national/tp-andhrapradesh/heritage-status-for-tallarevu-coringa-ports/article146009.ece>.

Photo. <https://sites.google.com/site/5mostfatalnaturaldisasters/-5-india-cyclone>

“Dangerous, sexy, romantic, and intense. I dare you to stop reading.” Tahereh Mafi, composes her ideas into words that brings out emotions of different kinds. A power to shake up the world, a touch that freezes the body, a feel that conquers the heart, the sentences on each page has quality, depth, and interest, your fingers will flip those pages without a rest. The precise amount of details and Mafi’s use of figurative language truly captivates the reader’s attention. Her writing embodies the definition of creative writing.

Unravel Me is a book filled with amusing plots that explores different ideas of reality in a fictional story. It narrates a story of a girl with a romance tale, a girl who faces conflicts, and a girl with a very special gift. Her name is Juliette. She possess a power like no other at the tip of her fingers. In a split second, her clenched fist can create an abyss and send the world trembling. But all that is just another reason why she is closed up from everyone else. It is in her least interest to hurt anyone. It seems to her that this power just hunts her and that it’s just another mishap in her life. The only good it has done is Adam, the one that sends her heart beating a skip too fast. This lethal power brought the two together but coincidentally it has created a trap there too.

The mood of the book is moderately dark and dejected, and dystopia may not be the most favored genre for certain people but the experience of reading this book is everything except that. Mafi makes the readers wonder how she has the power to develop such passionate feelings for this fictional story. She leaves the readers in wonderment and one of the main ways that she does that is through her descriptive words. Mafi’s descriptions are not just describing, they are another way to engross the readers and illustrate the perfect picture. She uses metaphors, personifications, the five senses and more when she is describing.  

Throughout the book, Mafi presents unpredictable new situations but the storyline is solid and the composition is very unique. One of those unique qualities being striking through words in the book. Unravel Me is sort of like Juliette's diary, everything is stated but certain words or sentences are crossed out with a thin line. These strikes serve a purpose in showing the readers how Juliette feels but doesn’t want to mention or admit those crossed out words to herself. Mafi also separates the book into many small chapters to keep the readers going. She writes in first person point of view to share the thoughts going on in Juliette, the main character’s mind. She utilizes vivid sensory language to send chills down your spine and make you feel. The structure of this book is an integration of all these techniques.  

A major principle of this book lies in learning how to cope with obstacles. All throughout the book Juliette is facing some type of problem, either its the feeling of loneliness, the fear of hurting someone or loving someone. Each of these internal and external conflicts help her progress and learn about herself. She transforms from a shy, antisocial teenager to a brave, confident young lady. These points in transformation are points where she decides to try out something different. As the reader, these points are very clear because of the contrast between her action and her personality. Mafi does a great job emphasizing these parts as well.    

Shatter Me and Unravel Me are the first two novels in a trilogy about Juliette. This series by Tahereh Mafi is a New York Times and a USA Today bestselling series. Mafi wrote in the back of her book, “when unable to find a book, she can be found reading candy wrappers, coupons, and old receipts.” That maybe a source or inspiration to her creative writing.    

Overall, the book is amazing. There are so many things that happened in the book you just have to read it and experience it. Discover love, hate, and power all in one and see Juliette’s journey throughout the book. Unravel Me is made up of seventy three chapters and each of those seventy three chapters serve a purpose in enhancing the storyline by giving the readers a better understanding of what’s going on. Anyone would enjoy it. But specifically people who enjoy romance stories and supernatural characters, so if you’re one of those people, go check it out!  

Title: Unravel Me

Author: Tahereh Mafi

Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers

Date of publication: 2/5/13

Number of pages: 461

Genre: Young Adult, Dystopian, Romance

Creative Part:

• The found poem, Juliette, touches the different points the author and the narrator presents in the book in a few simple phrases extracted from the book. Juliette outlines the book, it mentions the main character/ the narrator, Juliette’s supernatural power, her feelings throughout the book and her love story.   
  

Found Poem:

Juliette

My blood, a million degrees below zero

The earth fissures under my fingers

I have the power … to destroy everything.  

So, says society, I am a monster

I’m buried 50 feet underground

Everyday, I stare at these 4 walls

I'm never quite certain whether or not I'm actually alive.

My skin and bones craving warm affection.

“Juliette,” he says

he mouths the name,

barely speaking

he’s pouring molten lava into my limbs

Never knew I could melt straight to death.

2

4

6 seconds

The air is still.

My skin is scared.

“It’s never been a secret. I want you,” he whispers and letter by letter he presses the words into my skin.

The sprinkle of water with the warmth of the sun washed away the dirt on his skin. The dirt of the mud from practice. Football games were always a battle ground. A field filled with large men running and shoving each other to the ground. Nothing laid in the head besides the idea of victory and looking good in front of others that stand before them. Being the man in the game. Being the man in everything. Its all that he had trained for, to be the best man, to be the strong man, to be a man. Now, he stood six feet, two inches tall, a three hundred pound moving body of muscle. He looks perfect. People thinks he is perfect. He is perfect.

His face placed under the shower head, he closes his eyes. There was a feeling of impending interest. Something he couldn’t deny but tried to. He needed explanations for these feelings or he felt that these emotions needed a cure. There was no way he could just walk out of that room and ignore all these feelings. Being a young adult now, he thought he knew himself. But now confusion took over his whole existence. He knew people that had these feeling and came out to the world with them. He never understood those people. He had made remarks in public and laughed about those people.

There was a specific time he remembered. It was during a party in his high school years. One of his friend, a popular boy like him, came out of the closet. Everyone in the school seemed to be talking about him. Before he came out of the closet, all the other boys in the school wanted to be his friends. They just thought he was so cool. However, the next day when the news of his sexuality came out, things took a big turn. Opening his eyes to try not to think any further. The reflection of himself through the white tiles stared back at him.

Slowly, he inhaled the air and exhaled his emotions, twice. Looking straight into the reflection of his eyes, he started to speak.

“James? I’m with you. I’m sorry... I’m sorry I was with those guys laughing. I, this critic, this shameless, this monster, am sorry. I didn’t mean it, I didn’t know anything back then, I didn’t know myself. Call me nameless, I don’t deserve an identity for what I’ve said and done before. The guys I hanged out with, they were horrible, they will probably never learn to become someone as strong and awesome as you… No one understood about the type of life you lived during that time. No one! Their brains, my brain, were all sized down to a piece of nail, when it came to your situation. Yes, the earth was created for an atmosphere where every man could stand freely. But I’m sorry we made you cripple in fear.”

As his frustration built, dark clouds grew bigger above him. His thoughts balled up a feeling of uncertainty. He could not stop these thoughts from rolling through him.

“Urghhh! Why do I feel this way? Man!” He thought to himself. Am I gay?  

The mist of the boiling water fogged up the mirror, the windows, the whole room, as he stood under the showering water, thinking.

“All those dirty looks, the scowling faces, the whispers of cutting words behind his back. Man! What were we all thinking?” The faint memory came back. He thought about how James’s friends and his best friends talked behind his back, including himself. He wasn’t James’s best buddy from the beginning, he knew that. However, they did consider each other as friends back when James didn’t announce he was gay and back when this infuriated, this nameless, this thought to be crazy person tried to figure out a part of himself.

There was a day which he clearly still remembered. It was about two days after James had said to everyone that he was gay. The news was fresh and it was the number one mostly talked about topic. Justin, one of James’s friend, started the conversation. “Its so hard to believe James is gay. I never would’ve expected it from a dude like him. Its weird, he’s weird. It just doesn’t suit him at all.” Every member in the circle jumped to say what they had to say. They all had their own remarks. Just knowing that James was gay, they categorized him. They put him down in the back of their head. They put him down in the back of their head just like this monster, this nameless person did.

A couple weeks after the hot topic news, James had made new friends. It seemed that he had gathered himself with people that understood him. Although that was true, there was a speck of feeling where James was still not fully accepted into that new society, nameless felt it in his guts and he still remembers that feeling. This specific, unpleasant feeling is what dreads him.

The hurtful intended rumors he had spreaded with the judgemental words were his pass. They were based off of his thoughts in the pass. The pass where he was a different person, or thought he was a different person at least. Now, it’s going to be a new story.

“My name is Robert Hardrick.”

See yesterday night, I decided to put my little brother’s perfect outfit together. He has no style, whatsoever. All he wants to do is play his dumb video games with his little friends and read books. He always wears the same gray t-shirt and the dull blue pants. So, you know, I had to put together his outfit. I want him to look good in public.

People would beg to be his friend after wearing what I’d put together. Everything was ready. I even told him how to style his ugly hair too. But then the next day, he wore his same old outfit! I was like, “What are you wearing? Go change! I told you to wear the outfit I put out yesterday.” He didn’t listen though. He had decided that he wanted to ignore me and leave out the door. How dare he, you know? I was trying to be nice and help him out, but he wants to ignore me? I was done. I had to take a deep breath. Who does he think he is? No one cares what I have to say, no one cares about me. I’m always trying to help you. I try to help everyone. Why do I always end up volunteering myself to be the shoulder you guys can lean on? Through every situation, I’m the one listening to all your b.s. I’m not saying I don’t want to be there, I’m want to. I want to listen to you guys, I want to care and understand for you guys but also, remember I still exist.

 (After a little moment of silence). Well, I’m glad you guys aren’t in my spot. At least you guys don’t think about everything as much as I do. I hear all of them, you know. The words always stay in my mind. “Don’t talk to her, she’s mean, she’s crazy.” Blah blah blah. I try to take them all out of my mind because I know better. I know that people do and say things, things which might not be the most pleasant things to see or hear. I try hard to forget it. Its not easy though. Who do they think they are? Going around saying stuff about me. Its never easy to forget those actions. Everyday, I look at myself and I think to myself, I’m strong. I don’t cry. But I guess its not my day today to be strong. No one, not even my close friends seem to care about me. I just feel like hiding myself under the bed or disappearing into the sky.

I’m always trying to be the perfect friend, the perfect sister, the perfect person, listening and helping everyone out but you know what I realized? I learned that there isn’t a world where everything is perfect and revealing what you are feelings is okay. My brother wearing the same outfit everyday is okay. Life is hard, you will fail, not once but multiple times. You just have to pick yourself up and brush yourself off and stand strong.    

Eyes closed and sitting. Thoughts about random things started to run in my head. Slowly, I opened my eyes and I squinted at the large mirror, seeing the reflection of the shower curtains and the tiled walls. I blinked a few times to get used to the extra bright light. Then the door opens, my sister comes in to wash her teeth. A message comes out of my mouth to her. It was spoken through a native language in the United States. I didn’t notice it at first when the words spilled out my mouth. But a few minutes later, I started noticing that I was thinking about things and saying things in my head in English as well. I was surprised, but I felt a little bad about myself. A part of who I am and where I come from was starting to become faint. It never came to my mind that I would have this conflict. I feel as if that actually might be one of the main reason why this is happening to me.

For most of my childhood years I’ve lived in India. However, I am Tibetan. My family comes from a country called Tibet. My family and I lived in India surrounded by two unique cultures. My own, the beautiful Tibetan culture and the beautiful Indian culture.

My life in India can’t even be expressed in words now that I think back about it. Surrounded my friends and families all the time, I was always connected to the environment. I had a strong foundation at which I’d learned about my culture. Even though I didn't lived in India, I went to a tibetan school and I wrote, read and spoke Tibetan. There were many Tibetans living in the village where I lived, so I never forgot my language and cultures.

We’ve lived in India for a long time, so we did have certain words which were always said in hindi. Some of the common words that I thought were in Tibetan, were actually in Hindi. An example of it is the word “shoes.” I’ve always thought it was a tibetan word. My parents and all of my friends said it in hindi all time. However, we never really mixed phases of hindi and tibetan together when we were speaking, unless it was on purpose. My whole family spoke fluent hindi but they never mixed the two language. On a regular basis, my family spoke in tibetan when they were at home and when they were talking to a tibetan person. My friends also talked in tibetan, so I was the same as them. I continuously spoke tibetan unless the person I was talking to didn’t understand the language.               

I’ve learned that the day I left India. The day I left half my family, my grandpa, grandma, aunts, cousins, and friends was the day I was a step further from my culture and language. It’s been about six and half years since I’ve came to America. Life here is so different and its crazy how much I’ve changed with it. Its also crazy how much my family has changed with it.

My sister speaks tibetan but she mixes it a lot with english just like me. As for hindi, both of us have difficulty speaking it, but we’re still able to understand. About thirty percent of the time my mom speaks english at home. She can still speak and understand Hindi very well, but she never uses it at home. My dad does not speak much english at home, he mostly always speaks tibetan. On the other hand, my little brother doesn’t speak tibetan at all. Luckily he can still hear and understand it. In addition to not speaking tibetan, he doesn’t speak or understand hindi.

I became distant to my language. I couldn't speak it anywhere because wherever I went, no one spoke tibetan. The only place I could speak it was at home. When I started school in America, I could only speak english if I wanted to communicate with someone. Thankfully, I was taught a little bit of english in India, so I wasn’t entirely clueless. I was able to build my vocabulary daily, I learned idioms, different ways to say things and I learned slang. I watched and listened to other kids speak to each other. It was one of my main ways that my new friends taught me english. Also, I remember my Esol teacher Ms.Kean. She was always cheerful and very supportive to all the students in Esol. She taught me a lot of new words. She taught me how to get through my first school year in America.

School wasn’t the only place where I learned english. My sister, Ngawang, would also teach me things. My little brother, Dzineon, Ngawang, and I would all bring new things from outside. As time passed, we lived with those new little things. They slowly changed us, day by day. Soon, Dzineon couldn’t speak tibetan anymore. When he spoke, he would say it in english and this somehow automatically made me speak back to him in english. So, I started speaking a lot of english at home and so did my sister.

In 2011, after being in America for four years, the tibetan society in Philadelphia decided to start Tibetan Sunday School for kids like my siblings and I. I learned that I had forgotten the most basic tibetan writing and I had forgotten how to read tibetan. So, I went to sunday school every week. Little by little, I started to be able to read and write in Tibetan again. As for hindi, I remember and understand the language by watching bollywood movies.       

“Through lack of practice and not having others who speak it, I’ve lost most of the Pachuco tongue.” This was written in a passage named From Borderlands/La Frontera by Glona Anzaldía. Just like me, others who speaks more than one language and or had spoken more than one language, experiences situations like this. When you don’t speak a language for a long while, you tend to forget how to speak in it or it gets difficult. People don’t take the time to practice the language they know. We’re lazy, we get lazy. But when you have others who speak it around you, you never forget it. You don’t think of it as practice but we think of it as just talking.

Nuestros cliente, Tenzin Ngawang

Bienvenido en la casa de preciosa. Está casa es la perfecto casa para tú y tú familia. Es muy moderno y está cerca de un grande parque, también está en la ciudad de Filadelfia. El parque tiene árboles, hermosas flores y un camino para correr en. Los vecinos son increíblemente simpáticos personas. El supermercado, las escuelas, el transporte público, y el centro comercial están cerca de la casa. La casa no es muy grande pero es bastante bonita. La casa es también cómodo. Está casa es muy elegante y extravagante para usted. ¡Está casa es de venta!

Descripción:

• La casa tiene dos pisos.

• Hay cuatro habitaciones

• Un jardín para que los niños juegan.

• Hay dos baños con dos lavamanos, grande espejos, duchas, y inodoro.

• La baño de la casa tiene bañera que està.     

• Tiene un sala con dos sofá, una televisión de pantalla y más.

• Tiene un comedor, y una cocina con mesas, sillas y más.

• La casa tiene muchos bonitas ventanas y puertas en todos partes de la casa.

• La casa es muy moderna y linda.

• Aquí usted tiene todo que tú necesita.

  
  
  ¡Ahora es el momento perfecto para que usted pueda comprar está casa! No es caro sin embargo, tiene todo el caràcter que usted quiere.
  
  
  Diseñado por Tenzin Chemi y Alex Colòn.
  Lugar de trabajo - Science Leadership Academy (SLA)
  Dirección - 55 N 22nd St  Philadelphia, PA 19103
  Llamar - 786-869-5321