Category: Humanities

Guluband

I can’t stop thinking about Guluband. Ever since Wardak came and took him, he’s all I can think about. So I’ve decided to make a how-to care for your camels book.

Okay, so first things first, if you’ve had a dog it’s kind of similar. Always stay near them until they warm up to you, it should take about a week at least. After they’ve gotten used to you, get something that will help you get their attention, for example a song. That’s what I used for Guluband. If you have a herd, you may want to dress them up, so they stick out and you can tell if it’s them. That should be everything, I hope this helped you take care of you’re camels.

Everything can change in a day

Dear diary,

I’m starting to worry about Phulan, all she can think about is Hamir and the wedding. She spends all her days wondering what he looks like and acts like. And now I have to follow her around! I can’t help Mithoo, or tend to the other camels, I just have to watch her do nothing, it’s driving me insane. “Daydreaming has overtaken Phulan’s every waking minute.”

 

Dear diary,

Phulan’s life is ruined, Hamir is dead. Nazir Mohammed was going to take Phulan, and killed Hamir instead. All Phulan does now is mourn and feel bad for herself. I pity her, but I miss the old Phulan. “‘Empty’, says Phulan. ‘As if nothing inside me or outside is worth caring about.'”

Who The Heck Are You?

Who the heck are you is a project where we chose someone to interview and recorded their answers.

At first we wrote letters to interviewee, to ask them if they would be okay with being interviewed. If they accepted, we then wrote questions for them, if not, then we would choose someone else. My interviewee was my cousin, who grew up in Berkeley Hills, California, with his sister, Sophie. He went to an art college in Chicago and now lives in New York City. The questions that I asked him were:

  1. How was your experience in college?
  2. What were some important points in your life?
  3. What was life like growing up in California?
  4. What job would you like to have?
  5. Why did you move to New York?
  6. How did you feel when our grandparents passed away?
  7. How often did you get into trouble as a kid?
  8. What is your favorite pastime?
  9. What made you want to involved with art?
  10. What sports did or do you play?
  11. Do you have any hobbies?

Next came the interview. I recorded it on my phone, it lasted 30 minutes. I learned about his childhood, his life in college and what he’s doing now.

Then we wrote the most interesting parts about it, and drafted out 2 pages, telling the story of the interviewee.

 

Life of an Artist 

By, Armant

Imagine what it’s like to grow up just south of the famous Golden Gate Bridge, surrounded by vineyards. Will Becker is my cousin who grew up in Berkeley Hills with his sister, Sophie, and went to a public school, even though his parent’s considered sending him off to boarding school. His grandfather on his mother’s side owns a vineyard and makes wine. Everyone was friendly where he grew up, “If you called someone something mean, you would be the scum of the earth to everyone else.”  Will got into trouble often as a child, while his sister hardly ever did. He started playing lacrosse when he was in fifth grade on a team called the Bears. Hardly anyone played lacrosse in the Berkeley, so there were about as many lacrosse teams as there are intramural teams in this school. “Our team was the pretty much the worst team, and we hadn’t won in about a year, and when we did break our streak of losing, our coach bought us taco bell. Then we started winning more games, without getting taco bell at the end.” For his seventh grade games, his coach would create a drink called baby bear blood, which was a mix between red gatorade and flaming hot cheetos. Then he would leave it in his car for a week to get the players energetic and excited. Most people either got sick or vomited (it didn’t work).

In his graduating year of high school, Will had no idea what to do next. “My parents said they wanted me to go to college, but I didn’t know what they meant.” He didn’t know what to study, he thought about history, or science, but neither really satisfied him. He knew he wanted to be involved with art after he saw a program called Oxbo, which inspired him to look into 3D art and sculptures. He then went to a school in Chicago called School of the Art Institute, which was associated with a museum. “This is what I want to be around for the rest of my life, this is where I belong.” He said. In his last year of college his grandfather fell ill with leukemia (brain cancer). Will felt empty because he lived close to them until he went to college, and work kept piling on, which just added to his stress and sadness. He felt like a part of himself had left him, because they saw each other so much and because of that they were so close. It wasn’t the first time he had dealt with death, his dog passed away two years before, his grandmother on his father’s side passed away already, but this one hit him harder than all the other ones “I got a call from my mom a week before, saying he had cancer, but he was so strong that I had thought I would at least see him again.”  Will saw his grandmother on her deathbed a year later than her husband. She had a recurrence of brain cancer, but this time she didn’t have her love of her life to keep her determined. She stayed sick for about a month of sadness. Everyone knew it was coming, and that she wasn’t going to overcome it this time. Will visited her about two weeks before she succumbed to cancer. She was lying in her bed listening to 80s music. Will asked if she liked it, and she quickly replied no. So he changed the music to her favorite band and tried to talk to her, but she was hardly replying to what he said. After about ten minutes, he gave her a hug and left the room. He was aware that it would be the last time he would see her, and because of that tears were pouring down his face. It seemed that in her last moments, she was also suffering from dementia too, because she seemed to forget some people were. Will also saw his grandparents on his father’s side the day before he passed away. “When I tried to start up a conversation, he didn’t respond to me. He just stared up into the ceiling.” He wasn’t as close to him as the other grandparents, but he still knew him, so it hurt that he would never see nor hear his grandfather again.

After Will was finished in college he was considering moving to LA, but he decided to move here, New York, instead, because he has family here (me), and lot’s of people are moving to LA, so he wanted to try something new. Also there are a lot of artists in New York and it’s housing is cheaper here than in Chicago or Los Angeles. Will now lives in Brooklyn, exploring galleries and museums, drawing pictures and sculpting on the computer, making friends and going to clubs.

 

 

Arabian Nights

Arabian Nights is about a king whose brother’s wife left him, and he swore to kill everyone by marrying them and killing them the next day.

One day, a woman named Scheherazade wedded him, and every night she would tell him a story, and he would be too intrigued to kill her. Each night the story is left off at a cliff-hanger, so he would always want to know what happened next. All of the stories are well known, such as Aladdin and Alibaba.

Ashokan

The best part of the Ashokan trip was blacksmithing because most people never get to do it. Also we got to make things using burnt iron such as fire-pokers and plant hangers.  We got to do things people did in the medieval era, such as burn iron with white fire so we can hammer it to shape the iron.

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The worst part of the Ashokan trip was the bunks, because they were messy, loud and people kept each other up at night.

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fact to fiction

A fact to fiction story is where you take a story and at one point, make it fiction. Everyone in the grade did this, so here’s mine:

In the middle of summer, my brother, Jamie decided to try something new with our kayaks, there was a river next to our house, about a mile away.  We had decided to take the kayaks out of the pond, and into the river. My mother and him had gone on it twice before. He decided that he should take me for a ride, and I wasn’t even good at kayaking!  When we got to the put in spot, I felt my heart pounding in the very depths of my soul. We carried the tiny orange boats to the slippery rocks, and into the water. As we paddled happily along, listening to music and going through the deep waters, and avoiding shallow water. The wind was presenting a nice breeze, but then it got harder, and harder. I looked up, the sky was getting darker, I felt a drop of water land on my shoulder, and not salty river water, rain water. After it started raining my brother and I decided to take a break and shore for a bit.

 

About 10 minutes later, we decided it wasn’t going to clear up, by now it was almost pouring. We set off, just to find that it was pouring so hard, that the river had waves, powerful enough to knock a boat onto it’s back, as if it was a bug, trying to flip back onto it’s side. The rapids forced the tires to be wrecking balls, instead of wheels that drive cars forward. One tire hit the side of my Kayak, knocking the paddle out of my hands, just as a wave knocked me into the shallow water, meaning I had to get out of my kayak and push. I got out and was swept off of my feet, falling into the rocky water, the only thing stopping me from getting swept away by the current was Jamie, who grabbed my now wounded arm. I panicked and tried to climb up onto his Kayak, until I almost pulled him overboard. He saw my paddle spinning out of control next to him, he grabbed it, stuck it into my Kayak, and pulled. As the Kayak got dislodged from the rocks, he helped me up, and held the boats steady as I got in. He quickly gave me the paddle, and kept going. We swerved and turned, dipped and dived, we just had to keep moving. Then, he saw what he called the white house, and sure enough, it was a white house. He said it was about three quarters in, and as we got closer, I saw that beyond it the raging waters were as calm as they should be. As soon as we got past the house, it stopped, all of it stopped, the waves, the wind, the white water. It was if time had taken a break. The sky started to clear up into it was just a drizzle, which we didn’t mind since we were already soaked.


After what felt like forever, we made it, we got to the shore. We asked our parents if they saw the storm, or if it was on the forecast, but they said no to both and were very confused. I decided to keep it to myself, so no one would think I’m insane. I don’t know what happened, I don’t know how it happened, all I know is that it’s gonna take a long time for me to get over that and go Kayaking again.

Hero Essay

Heroes have certain qualities that most people don’t have combined such as selflessness, hope and determination. Heroes need to be hopeful when times are bad, selfless when someone is in need, and determined to achieve their goals. Ulysses did everything he could to get him and his men home, using the same qualities as Malala, they were both determined, hopeful and selfless. Ulysses and Malala are both heroes because both of them stand up for themselves and don’t give up. Ulysses was fighting alongside his men while Malala was being hunted down for writing books.

 

Ulysses should be remembered as a hero. He was so determined to get his men home, and recover from whatever they messed up. “I shall go ashore myself-alone-to see what there is to see and make sure there are no terrible hosts, giants, man-eating ogres, or secret sorceries. If I am not back by nightfall, Eurylochus will act as captain. Then he will decide whether to seek for and water here or to sail onward. Farewell.” Page 48.  He killed many terrors of the sea, such as the cyclops, used his skills to protect his men from their mistakes, and did whatever he could do to reclaim his throne. Ulysses should be written down in history, as king of Ithaca, champion of the Trojan war and for overpowering everything Poseidon threw at him.

 

Malala is a hero because she stood up against an army just so she could write books.  She was being hunted by the Taliban because she wasn’t supposed to write books. They were threatening to kill her.  She demonstrates selflessness by continuing to write books for people, she was determined to keep running and writing, and she was hopeful that the Taliban wouldn’t find her.  The Taliban did almost everything to make her stop, including shooting her in the head, hunting her down, and keeping her in hiding. Malala inspired many people to stand up for themselves and others, the world would be different without her spirit and her stories.

We need more heroes in our polluted, selfish world. Heroes are the people who are saving it. In groups like the Taliban and other corrupt organizations, people need to take a stand, like Malala did. If we don’t take a stand, what will this world be like? If the world had no heroes to stop us and fix our mistakes, the world would be a different place. It might be a radiated world where everyone lived in a vault. It might be poor, and greedy, it would be like a different planet.  The world has changed because of heroes.

The kidnapping

Chapter 1

The kidnapping

 

The first thing I heard was my door open.  I looked at the door, a pair of eyes were waiting there.  I tried to scream, but nothing came out of my mouth. I was paralyzed in fear.  I tried to scramble out of bed, but all I did was struggle.  They came inside and closed the door. The last thing I knew, the person was right in front of me.

 

 

I felt tired, I could only see black, and every once in a while, brown.  I smelt gas, I heard cars, and police sirens. I tried to get up,  but my hands were tied together.

With effort, I got the thing off my head, it was a sack.  I looked up. I was in the front passenger seat of a Ferari, in saggy red clothes.  “Where am I?” I asked I don’t know who. I don’t remember having this type of car.  I looked up at the driver and gasped. It was the man who came into my room last night. He had greasy black scrambled hair, and an expressionless face. He was wearing all black. I looked around, hoping it was a dream. We were swerving past other cars, and cops were chasing us. We kept going, refusing to be pulled over. We hit a car, and I fell off the seat. The cops were surrounding the car.

 

 

Chapter 2

Sticky situations

The driver swore repeatedly, trying to think of a way to get out of the situation.  My head was sore from the bump, and my nose was bleeding.  I decided to just wait, and let fate decide what happened next.

The driver was looking through a bag on his lap, he was hiding under the door, a horrified look on his face. He pulled a pistol from the bag, and the police were coming to the door, but they were all locked.

I heard glass break, and the driver pointed his gun, from the doors, to me.

I tried to hide under the seat, but he just said “Don’t move, or I shoot.”

“Put the gun down! Now!” said a voice behind me, just as more glass broke. We were surrounded by police, most holding tasers, but some were holding actual guns, and not just pistols.

The driver started to quiver and his head turned red. There was a gun behind his head.

He holstered his gun, and swapped cars with the police, and his drove away.

 

 

Chapter 3

New beginnings

The cops were searching the car.  It seemed like forever for them to find me.  When they saw me, battered and all, I tried to make a smile, but the pain was too much.  The cop grabbed his walkie-talkie and told the others.  “Get up.” He said. “Who are you, and why are you here?”

“I was taken away from my parents. I woke up last night, and he was there.” I said nervously, I didn’t want him to think I was doing something bad. “Where do you live?” He asked.  “Greenwich street, and-” He stopped me mid sentence “Greenwich? There’s no Greenwich here, we’re in Hoboken, New Jersey.”

I was worried out of my mind.  I didn’t know what to say, or what to do. “We’ll take you to a foster home, then you’ll be able to calm down, and maybe even get a new family.”

I wanted to argue, but it was a police officer, so I thought not to.

I got into their car and we drove away.

When we finally got to our destination, I got out of the car, a sign read “Jone’s house for fosters and orphans!”  I hesitated, “I just want to go home.” I said, I just wanted to go anywhere, but there.  I eventually started walking towards the house, it felt like I was walking in the air as if gravity wasn’t holding me back. The officers pulled me along by the shoulders.  I squeezed my eyes shut as they knocked on the door. The door opened.  “Hello.” Said a nice voice. I opened my eyes slowly, there was a woman with dark curly hair, a blue dress and makeup covering her face. “I’m am missis Jones.  What’s your name?” she asked me.  “…Jeffery, er, Jeff for short, oh and my last name is Smith, Jeffery Smith.”  I said nervously.  It may have been a bad first impression, but I just didn’t want to be there.  “Okay then Jeffery, let’s go have a look around.” She said, putting on a smile.

The house was a mansion! it had upstairs and downstairs, tower and basement.  Ten bathrooms, five bedrooms, (four bunk beds were placed hastily in each one.) On the top floor, and on the first. After the tour ended.  I was brought into my room, which had three children, each about 7-10.  I was 12.  “Everyone, this is Jeffery, or Jeff.  Jeffery, this is John, this is Jim, and this is Kenith. I hope you all get along. And I hope you get adopted soon, this place is getting crowded.” She added, turning her back on the room.

 

 

Chapter 4

Dreams come true

We did not get along, at all.  Jim, the youngest always grabbed onto me and tried to pull me onto a bed. When I pulled back, Kenith, who was ten, tackled me, and to finish it off, John the middle child, jumped onto my neck and twisted my head around until I made a noise.  Usually it was a loud ouch or a groan, which sometimes attracted mrs Jones, but by the time she got up to my room, they were off of me and had me gagged, so she thought I was sleeping. We would be fed inside our own room, so I could hardly eat anything because they kept taking it, and they always kept me awake by partying at 12:00.  I was starting to think that I would go insane if I was there another day.

 

One day, when I felt on the verge of sanity, Jones came into our room, “We have an adopter.” she said proudly, and sure enough, there were two people trying to pick a favorite.  Their faces seemed very familiar.  “Where do you live?” I asked, stepping forward. “None of your buisness boy!”  Said a strangely harsh familiar voice.  “Wait, are you?”  Sure enough, it was the Sherl family. “Are you Jeffery Tiff?” Asked the father of the family “Smith” I corrected.  “Close enough! Anyway, why are you here? with these, filthy little-”  “Excuse me!” Yelled Mrs Jones. “Do you know them?”  She gave me an impenetrable face.  “Y-yes I do, they’re my neighbors.”  “Well then take him home! Shoo! Shoo!” She yelled.  “Fine!” He barked back, obviously holding back some seriously worse things.  The trip back home was long and silent.

When we finally got home, we went in separate ways.  “Wait! Jeff! Your parents aren’t there!, they’re out looking for you! lemme call ‘em. You could stay ‘ear for awhile, You know, while you wait an’ stuff.”

 

 

Chapter 5

Reunited

 

The next day, my parents got home, and I ran out to greet them.  I was overfilled with joy and happiness.  Then, my parents gave me a lecture of what to do if that ever happened again, and what our address is, and the final one, about school. These happened every day.  I was starting to miss the foster home.

 

chronological order

photoMy group and I were not confused about the start of the project, but then we had trouble deciding which was first in chronological order. One thing we struggled with was when we got to the Cambrian explosion to the Permian extinction. When we had the limestone card, we thought it would either be after the cambrian explosion or before. The most confusing era was the humans, we had trouble deciding where their paths were, when the ice age happened, and hardest of all, were the evolutions, like apes to hominids, hominids to humans. I learned the paths of the humans. We solved our problems by talking about which would make more sense. For example the dinosaurs wouldn’t have come before the Cambrian explosion because the animals were still in the water.