by Margaret -

Margaret’s Shabanu Blog Post

New Child

I am very exited, for I am going to give birth to a child in a month and a bit. I have been preying for a boy every day. I can’t even begin to explain how I would feel if it wasn’t another boy. If I had a boy, they would be able to herd animals and do farm work. I don’t even know how my sister deals with the fact that she had daughters. And TWO! I just don’t understand why Allah hates her so much. Allah has blessed me with two sons, who will be married to beautiful women. Oh how excited I am. I really hope that my boys will get along with my future child, and if it is a boy, hopefully my children will teach him to do work.

If it is a daughter, I will know that I did something wrong. I have tried to be on my best behavior so that Allah will bless me with boys. I have been restraining my self from saying rude comments to my sister and my nieces,but it’s SOOO hard! Oh how exited I am to give birth to a boy, and then I can stop being on my best behavior.

by Margaret -

Margaret’s Shabanu Blog Post

IMG_20160502_102739How To Sew Silk:

I have been spending all of my time lately sewing silk garments for my two wonderful sons. When they grow older, I will teach their wives to sew silk as well, so I can start sewing garments that I can wear, while their wives will sew beautiful garments for them. I decided to teach you some of my techniques, for it is said that I am quite talented at sewing.

First, you must wash your silk fabric in soapy water that is over a fire. Choose the color silk that you most appreciate. I love yellow silk. This water should be sweet instead of salty, so you should try the water before using it.

Then, you must rinse the silk with cold water that is sweet. Before rinsing the silk, you must add in some sirka  to the water as well. Then rinse it a second time, this time with no sirka and just cold water.

If you have a clothesline, you must dry it on the clothesline. You should try and dry it out when it is windy, but you must make sure that there are no sandstorms coming your way before you dry it off, for your silk will be ruined.

Then, choose out your needle. It should be thin and sharp, so that it doesn’t leave holes inside of the fabric.

When you are choosing your thread, you must choose thread to match your fabric. I always use yellow thread, and I suggest you use yellow too.

You must wash your hands in warm, sweet water before sewing your fabric. If you don’t, it will get quite dirty.

Next, you must hand-baste the silk pieces together. Hand-basting is a technique of using long, loose stitches to hold fabric together and make sewing easier. This is good for people who are starting out sewing. This is very time consuming so I would suggest having a cup of milk tea by your side to drink. You also must sew at a steady slow pace.

Last, you must finish the seams, and wear it as you wish.

 

 

 

 

by Margaret -

My Poem

To submit to the Brooklyn Public Library, Zoe and I decided to write a poem. It is called The Glass Ceiling. It is about one of the 8th graders workshops, that was about women in the workplace. In that workshop, there was a lot of talking about the glass ceiling. The glass ceiling is basically a limit for women that is not there for men when it comes to work. If someone has to choose between women and men for a job, they are more likely to chose men. I decided to write about this in my poem. My poem is about a women looking up at a metaphorical glass ceiling. She is looking up at men, while the men are doing so many different things, while she is sitting below them, doing the same work that they are but she isn’t getting paid as much as the other men. She is questioning if she was a different gender, if she would be up there with all of the other men, or if she would still be down under them metaphorically. Here is my first draft of my poem:

They’re standing up there,

Triumphantly

When I wonder,

How did this happen?

If I had been born differently, would it be different?

Would I be standing up there, triumphantly?
Instead of sitting here,

Watching their success, that could have been mine

While I’m down here, sweating hard.

Why are they standing there,

Doing the same work that I am,

They say I’m not working hard enough,

That they are.

I wish I could at least say that’s not true

That I don’t believe everything I hear

Deep down, I’m wondering if it’s true

If they really are sweating harder than me

I know I should think that what they say isn’t true,

That I am working harder than them,

But as I sit under them,

I wonder if it is why

I’m looking up at a glass ceiling and they look at the sky

 

And here is my final draft:

They’re standing up there,

Triumphantly

I wonder,

How did this happen?

If I had been born differently, would it be different?

Would I be triumphant?
Instead of sitting here,

Watching their success.

Their happiness.

Their non-existent sorrow.

Why are they standing there?

Not even breaking a sweat,

While I’m down here, sweating hard,

Earning 79 cents to their dollar.

I would raise my voice if I thought it would make any difference.

But as I look up at them, and they work unseeingly, I realize,

They feel no remorse for me,

Or anyone else down here.

They only care for their own prosperity,

That should have been mine.

They say I’m not working hard enough,

Deep down, I’m wondering if it’s true,

If they really are working harder than I am,

And as I sit beneath them,

I ask myself why,

I’m looking up at a glass ceiling, while they look at the sky.

I think this poem really inspired me to do more poetry. This poem signifies some of my best work, and I am very proud of it.

 

by Margaret -

My Creative Writing Piece

Throughout the whole year in Humanities, we have spent a lot of time writing all different kinds of writing pieces. I wrote a lot that I’m proud of, but there is one that I really worked hard on and I am very proud of it. I am very proud of it because I think it has a lot of description. It also showed improvement in my writing, because I usually describe every little thing, but this time I think I only described everything where the description was important to the story. Here is my piece:

“For homework, read pages 68 through 98 of Pride and Prejudice,” Ms. Clarkson said. Zoe was holding her breath and looking at the clock. Zoe has thick and straight dark brown hair. Her eyes are light blue. Today, she is wearing a lime green dress with a thick fabric. She is wearing her favorite glossy red Doc Martens. Right then, it was 3:14 and 48 seconds. Right before Ms. Clarkson was about to assign more homework, the loud bell rang. Zoe’s bag was already ready, filled with all her notebooks and folders, so that she doesn’t forget anything. When the bell rang, Zoe threw on her coat and sprinted out the door. She ran through the large hallway with all the lockers, and through the door leading outside to the park. When she was outside, she smiled when she felt the crisp fall air. She jogged out the park fence, and down the narrow sidewalk.

The colored trees made Zoe smile. The sunlight illuminated them and made them glow. Her feet clattered along the cobblestone road as she jogged, and stopped clattering when she got back on the sidewalk. She went on this way for around fifteen minutes until she got to the coffee shop. She ran inside, and saw tall Tom. She ran up to the cash register.

“Would you like your usual of hot cocoa with extra whipped cream?” Tall tom asked.

“Yes please!” Zoe exclaimed. Zoe watched as Tall Tom mixed in the Hershey’s cocoa powder and the hot milk. Then Tall Tom passed Zoe the can of whipped cream, and hot cocoa. Tall Tom always let Zoe do the whipped cream. Zoe squirted the whipped cream onto her hot cocoa. Zoe passed Tall Tom the whipped cream after she was done.

“3.75,” Tall Tom said. Zoe payed and put 1 dollar in the tip jar.

“Bye!” Zoe yelled as she was leaving.

“Bye!” Tall Tom said back. Zoe managed to run and drink her hot cocoa at the same time. She slurped it down in three huge gulps. After she drank all of her hot cocoa, Zoe walked up to a jewelry store. She looked through the window at one of those manikin necks, and on it hung half of a heart that said best friend on it. She walked into the store, and heard the bell on the top of the door ding. A woman with dirty blonde hair and piercing blue eyes stood at the register. Besides her, there was nobody else in the small store.

“How can I help you?” the woman asked.

“Can I please see your half heart necklaces please?” exclaimed Zoe. The woman held out six necklaces. Each were halves of a heart. There was one pair made of bronze, one pair made of silver and one pair made of gold. Zoe chose the one made of gold. The lady held both of the halves, and put one of the halves in its own velvet box.

“Do you want a box for the other one?” the woman asked.

“No thanks, that one’s for me. I’m giving one to my friend for her birthday, and keeping one so that we could each have half.”

“When’s your friend’s birthday?” the woman asked not very excitedly.

“Tonight, so I’ve gotta get there quick.”

“In that case, I’d better give you your necklaces.” the lady said, this time more excitedly. After she payed, Zoe went sprinting out the door and heard the bell as she was leaving. It was shocking how cold it was outside compared to how warm the shop was. Next stop, home, Zoe said to herself as she was leaving. She ran to her apartment building and poked her key in the slot. When she came in, it smelled like something cooking. She saw her mom standing at the kitchen counter, stirring pasta sauce. Her dad and sister were playing scrabble, her dad obviously winning. Zoe paced into her room, and picked up an orange backpack. She packed pjs, clothes, a toothbrush, toothpaste and a hairbrush. After she finished packing, she calmly walked into the living room.

“Hi Mom,” Zoe said as she collapsed on a comfy green chair.

“Hi sweetie,” Her mom exclaimed, obviously preoccupied with adding the rigatoni to the marinara sauce. Zoe took the necklace that was in the box, and placed it on the table, next to her half of the necklace and tried to piece them together. After she pieced them together, she walked to the kitchen, necklaces in hand and dipped a finger in the pasta sauce to try it.

“Very good,” Zoe said with a satisfying look on her face.

“Am I allowed to go to Bridgette’s party by myself?” Zoe asked.

“I’m not sure…” said her mom.

“C’mon mom, it’s three blocks away.”

“Do you even know the way there?”

“Yes! I’ve walked there with you a million times!”

“Fine, but be careful crossing the street.” Her mom gave in.

“THANK YOU SO MUCH!!” Zoe screamed as she kissed her mom goodbye.

 

Zoe picked up her backpack and sprinted out the door and went back into the refreshing air. In the park right outside of Bridgette’s house, Zoe sat on one of the benches to check her phone. It read 3:12. 3 minutes until the party. She decided to look at the necklace again. She reached in the bag that she received from the store to put the necklaces in, but they weren’t there.

Zoe flashbacked to when she walked into her house. She remembered walking into her house, necklaces in hand. When she came home, she tried to piece her necklaces together. Then she went to try her mom’s homemade tomato sauce, with her necklaces in her hand. Then she left.

“Okay, so I had them when I came in, and then I had them when I pieced them together, then I tried the tomato sauce, and left. Oh no. OH NO!!! THEY LANDED IN THE TOMATO SAUCE!” Everyone in the park started staring at her, and she realized that everyone in the park just heard her. She sprinted back home, her hair blowing around in her face. When she got home, there were bowls of pasta on the table, each plate with tons of tomato sauce, drowning the pasta.

“Why did you come back home? Did you leave your toothbrush?”

“No. I think I dropped the necklaces in the tomato sauce.”

“What? I just put all of the tomato sauce on the pasta. When did they fall in the tomato sauce?

“When I came over to taste it.”

“Oh no.” Zoe’s mom said.

“Oh no.”

Five minutes later, Zoe, her dad, her sister and her mom were all scooping through the pasta, looking for the necklace. Even though there were only three bowls, there was a lot of pasta to be checked.

 

by Margaret -

My “Who the Heck are You” Piece

In Humanities, we are doing a writing piece called “Who the Heck are You?” It is where we each chose a person to interview, and we decide on questions to ask them about their backstory, and then maybe even decide on some followup questions to ask. After you have recorded your interview with your person, you write an article about them. After you write your article, you write a blog post about how the whole project went. I chose Robin Pianoforte, at the front desk. I decided to interview her because I don’t really know a lot about her backstory. I am really excited to get to interview her and learn a lot about her.

by Margaret -

My Trotula Presentation

In Humanities, we did a project that I really enjoyed. We all got into groups and chose one famous women from the middle ages, and made a presentation about them. I got to be the leader of that group, and I think I did better as a leader. My group did Trotula. Trotula was a famous doctor in the middle ages, who specializes in midwifery and gynecology. I worked with Marlowe and Stella, and we decided to do a play. I was very proud of this project because I think that we found a way to make the play funny, but also teach the audience something. Here is the script for the play that Marlowe, Stella and I wrote:
Narrator: Trotula was a very famous doctor in the middle ages. She lived for approximately 40 years, from 1050-1090. She was born as a noble, where she was expected to be waited on, and try on gowns, but she wanted to do more.

(Trotula and her dad are sitting at the table)

Trotula’s Dad: Trotula, it’s time for you to go get fitted for your gown. Your appointment started 5 minutes ago.

Trotula: No! I was hoping to go take a tour of the University of Salerno. I want to be a doctor!

Trotula’s Dad: (Laughs) Oh Trotula. You were always such a jester.

Trotula: No I’m serious. I actually want to be a doctor.

Trotula’s Dad: Fine You may go do your little tour, but be back by supper.

Narrator: It was hard for Trotula to be a doctor, because people didn’t believe that Trotula would follow through with her dreams.

(Trotula is at the University of Salerno)

Trotula I’m so excited to take the tour of the University of Salerno! I wonder where the tour guide is?

(Trotula sees tour guide)

Trotula: Oh, I was looking for the-

Tour guide: Ma’am, your husband will be back in a few hours, if you want you can wait here.

Trotula: No, I’m here for the tour!

(Tour guide looks at list)

Tour guide: Oh! You’re Trotula? Come right this way.

Narrator: When Trotula got into the University of Salerno she took a lot of courses on Midwifery and Gynecology.

(Trotula is sitting in class surrounded by boys)

Teacher: Many Midwifes learned their professions from their own mothers with knowledge passed down from generation to generation. Frequently, a midwife attended as many as three hundred births each year.

Narrator: She also read a lot of books by famous physicians, such as Hippocrates.

(Trotula reading a book by Hippocrates for whole scene)

Hippocrates: Healing is a matter of time, but it is sometimes also a matter of opportunity

Trotula: I could have thought of that!

Narrator: At the University of Salerno, Trotula met a man named John Platearius, who was also a doctor. She married him and had two kids named Matteo and John Junior. Usually, when women had kids, it held them back in their career, but for Trotula it did the opposite. Trotula kept practicing medicine and treating patients.

(Trotula is sitting in a chair helping a patient)

(The patient is coughing)

Trotula: You must use water to clean your hands, five times a day. John Junior, would you go get the soap please?

(John Junior goes and brings back a bar of soap and gives it to the patient)

Patient: Oh! I’ve never heard that before! Whose advice is it to wash your hands?

Trotula: It was my idea. Washing your hands takes the germs away, which keeps you healthy!

Patient: Um… Okay… I guess I’ll wash my hands five times a day? Thank you?

Narrator: When Trotula’s sons grew up, they too were interested in medicine and were proud of their parents. Trotula then wrote very useful books including The Compounding of Medicine and The Diseases of Women and Their Cure. These books were read by tons of people. Trotula inspired generations of women to become doctors.

(Inspired women is reading Trotula’s book for whole scene)

Trotula: “when you visit a patient you need to ask where they have a pain, you need to take their pulse, you need to touch their forehead to see whether there is a fever and you need to ask whether they have shivers. Look at the expression on their faces and see and feel whether the abdomen is treatable , whether there is ease in urination, and give to each patient great attention.”

Inspired women: Wow! Trotula’s a genius!

Narrator: Lots of women to come went to the University of Salerno, and were not discriminated against as women.

Inspired Women: Greetings! I’m here for the-

Tour guide: Oh! You’re here for the tour! Come right this way!

Narrator: Trotula died of an unknown cause, but her ideas and knowledge lives on!

by Margaret -

My Arabian Nights Story

Revision is a step of writing. It isn’t making corrections to mistakes, it is more a change to the plot and story. For example, if you think a certain character should actually do something else, that is a time to revise your story. In my Arabian Nights story, I did a lot of revision. My story is based off the book Arabian Nights, which is about someone named Scheherazade telling stories. My story is as if Scheherazade was telling it. I am very proud of my story. I think my story has a very big element of magic. I also think that my story arc is clear. I also got help from Julia. She told me to take out parts of my story that weren’t needed, and I think that made my story better.I hope you like my story:

by Margaret -

The Cloisters Fieldtrip

IMG_1647

This Friday, the 6th grade went to the Cloisters. The Cloisters is a museum with a lot of medieval art work. One thing that I liked about the Cloisters were the paintings that we looked at on line that we got to see in person. It was fun to notice things about the paintings that we knew about. The Cloisters really related to our learning in Social Studies. A lot of the medieval paintings had to do with religion and we studied a lot of medieval religion. Overall, I think that the Cloisters was a real success.

by Margaret -

Margaret’s 2nd Quarter Reflection

Something that I am really proud of is my Thanksgiving piece. I think I put a lot of work into it and it payed off when I got to share it at the Thanksgiving assembly. I learned that the longer I spend on something the better it ends up coming out. I will continue to do this in the future to improve my work.

Here’s my Thanksgiving piece:

I wake up to the annoying sound of my alarm beeping. I slowly sit up to check the time. My phone reads 7 AM. Why did I set to my alarm to 7:00 in the morning? I never set my alarm clock period. I grab my phone and gaze into the screen, the light stinging my eyes. I manage to turn the brightness all the way down and see a notification on my lock screen. It says: Thanksgiving Today. My eyes go from practically shut, to popping out of my head! I spring out of bed and tip-toe into the living room. No one is awake yet. Just then, I hear my stomach rumble. As I’m about to wake my mom up to make pancakes, I decide that maybe I could make pancakes myself as a way of saying thank you for everything she’s done. A smile slowly spreads across my face… I think back to the time in Girl Scouts when we made pancakes to earn our cooking badge. That was relatively easy. I sprint to my computer and look up pancake recipes. I click on the first one, slowly reading down the list. In the kitchen, I check for all of the ingredients: eggs, flour and sugar we have. Next is baking powder. I search the cabinets and drawers, each time getting less and less hopeful. There is no baking powder to be found. I’m not giving up now. I guess I’ll just need to buy more.

I scribble a note to my parents and leave it on the dining room table before I go out into the crisp fall air. The cold breeze whistles in my ears and I can see my breath. The fall colors are exiting, all reds and yellows and greens. Even though it’s early, there are already people walking around. I head to the Duane Reade since it’s the closest pharmacy. When I tug on the handle, it doesn’t budge. I try again and still, it doesn’t open. I look up to see a sign on the door that says, “Closed for Thanksgiving.” The eager grin melts off my face. I think about Whole Foods a couple blocks away. They probably have baking powder, but when I think about walking there, then through the enormous store, I’m overwhelmed. Plus, I’m not sure if they’re open. I guess I’ll just have to go home and make pancakes without baking powder, which I don’t even think will work. When I get inside, I realize how cold I am. Just walking into the warm air is relieving. When I open the door, I see my sister sitting at the dining room table with my dad. Just then, I smell something and see my mom in front of a pan with a pancake cooking on it. “You want some pancakes?” she asks. I look around and see my whole family together. I have so much to be thankful for. My hunger slowly melts away. All I need is my family on Thanksgiving.

 

by Margaret -

Beowulf Annotations

Over the quarter, the 6th grade has been reading Beowulf. While we read Beowulf, we annotated. There were three steps we needed to do while we were annotating. 1st, we needed to underline and define words that we didn’t know. 2nd, we needed to underline parts of the book that were important and last, after we read a chapter we would need to write a chapter summary. Annotating is important because it helps you have a better understanding of the book. Also the chapter summary can help you find parts of the book if you want to go back on it. I am very proud of my underlining parts that I thought were important. I think I did a good job of determining weather or not a part was important. I think I could have done a better job of writing chapter summary’s and I think I could improve on that. I really enjoyed annotating overall.