Statue of Liberty

Statue of Liberty Web Site

The New Colossus

By Emma Lazarus, 1883

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,

With conquering limbs astride from land to land;

Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand

A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame

Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name

Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand

Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command

The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.

"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she

With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

This poem describes, in my mind, the way America should be. "Send these, the homeless, the tempest-tost to me", how can we enscribe this on a national figure and then proceed to deport the people who flee to our land back to theirs!? How do we obtain the audacity to call this our land when it once belonged to those we now deport from it? I think the government fears the idea of letting non- US citizens come here because they fear these immigrants will become stronger and reclaim what was once theirs. It is ludacris. The poem is trying to tell us that we are a shelter for those who cannot live freely in their homeland, but we stole these peoples homeland and restrict them from returning. This poem makes me like our immagration services even less. The statue of liberty is supposed to welcome all castaways and homeless to our land, but now she will only welcome those who have a legal document permitting their entrance!? This poem makes America look like a country of hipocricy.

I AM - John Clare

I am! yet what I am none cares or knows,

My friends forsake me like a memory lost;

I am the self-consumer of my woes,

They rise and vanish in oblivious host,

Like shades in love and death's oblivion lost;

And yet I am! and live with shadows tost

Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,

Into the living sea of waking dreams,

Where there is neither sense of life nor joys,

But the vast shipwreck of my life's esteems;

And e'en the dearest—that I loved the best—

Are strange—nay, rather stranger than the rest.

I long for scenes where man has never trod;

A place where woman never smil'd or wept;

There to abide with my creator, God,

And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept:

Untroubling and untroubled where I lie;

The grass below—above the vaulted sky.

History of War

There are many types of war. We fight in wars day after day and once we become a casualty....well, we tend to let that shape us. For better or for worse, that depends on the person. Yes, my grandfathers and great grandfathers were soldiers. My father served in the army for 6 years and his father served in the navy for quite some time. Still, there is any other type of war. The war my mom’s mother fought. Perhaps this war was of greater hardships than the war in Iraq, for my grandmother was not trained for this. She fought a war against herself, against the world, and against love. She didn't wear a uniform or defend her country. She defended the love she had for her children as well as her husband.

Catherine Badgely was a strong woman with five children. She was a smoker who developed several lung problems, C.O.P.D being one of the harshest. Every day she dressed herself in her own war paint; love. She was widowed to Howard whose life was claimed by lung cancer at the age of 36 due to smoking. I don’t know what Ma (Catherine) saw when she looked in the mirror but I am almost positive it was not the same thing I saw when I looked at her. She was a single mother struggling to feed not only her own children, but her children’s children. She wasn’t in the best health and the path she walked was not always paved for her. Many tears poured from her steel eyes though her pain was hardly visible to others. I knew a lot of these tears were caused by wounds she suffered because of self doubt and disappointment. She even went as far as legally changing her name, though she never would explain why.

Ma never stopped trying to do what was best for her children, even if it meant facing her fears. She took her daughter door to door one night looking for the man who violated her daughter. She had her rules for the kids as all parents should. She cared for a daughter, my mother, who had had her share of doctors visit before she reached her teens. Collapsed lungs, blown ear drums, many parents only have to deal with the flu a few times and couple broken bones. Ma knew she loved Howard and though she went out for fun she never remarried. Being a single mother with so much on her plate, I know it wasn’t easy to keep herself from falling in love again. Eventually Ma could no longer live on her own. She wanted to stay close to the family but one of her kids had a family over two thousand miles away. This was my family. Yet, as she always does, Ma had a plan.

My grandmother knew she was dying. She lived with each of her kids before she passed, my house being the last. Before she died she bought Christmas gifts for each of her kids. They were clocks with a bible scripture that, in one way or another, all pertained to her. She bought me a plaque of Our Lady who was my chosen saint in confirmation. Ma spoke no Spanish what so ever but the writing on the plaque was in Spanish. It read, “No tengas miedo porque siempre estás en mi cuidado.” She died a month before Christmas but even in her death her love lived. Her death brought her daughter (my mother) and her son back together after they endured their own battle for 10 years. Now my uncle and my mom talk every day.

Terrified of planes, Ma would never fly. She always took a train or came to New Mexico with someone who drove. After she passed away, we had to get her body back to New York so the whole family would be able to attend the wake and funeral. Her body was cremated and her ashes were buried in a rose colored urn on top of Howards grave. Catherine was now 80 and had finally been reunited with the love of her life, though I don’t believe he ever left her side.

Assignment - The Starfish Story

The Starfish Story had an incredible moral to it that we often ignore in everyday life. WE CAN MAKE A DIFFERENCE! Small acts of kindness and/or ambition do count. This morning my aunt was taken to the hospital with a blood clot in each lung caused by a previous DVT. This afternoon her leukemia test came back positive. These things are in God’s hands. I cannot cure her or make it better, but I can make a difference. I’ve begun cutting orange ribbon and pinning it to my family and friends since orange is the color for leukemia. Also, I have cut my hair 6 inches shorter as a symbol of my support. Maybe I can’t cure her, or treat her, or hold her hand through chemo, but if I can raise the awareness or at least show support then I have made a difference. I have thrown the starfish back into the water in hopes of prolonging their lives.

There are times where we do what we think is right andn others try to discourage us. We can either let them discourage us and stop trying to make a difference, or we can continue with what we were doing. The best thing to do is continue with what were doing. If we let someone discourage us and we stop trying to make a difference, others will pick up on that and your action of not doing anything will become a chain effect. Pretty soon there will be less and less people who are attempting to make a difference.

All the same, even if it is only a small difference, it can become a learned behavior to someone else as well as a habit for you. So what if you aren't making as a big of a difference as someone else. You are making a bigger difference than those who try to discourage you and you are also making the world that much better for those who come after you. Making a difference is as easy as throwing a starfish back into the sea.

Anyone can make a difference. Sometimes we attempt to make a difference and we feel like we have failed miserably. That is not a reason to give up. We learn from our mistakes and if we keep trying to make a difference it can only get better and better. So why not put forth a little effort every now and then to put a smile on someones face?

It is easy to give in to discouragement. However, most of us will feel better in the end if we make a difference. If I can make someones day better, and they can do the same for another who passes it on as well, I didn't just make one small difference, I made three. The little boy in this short story made a difference to those starfish who he returned to the water. Not only that, but he made a difference when he spoke to the man who had tried to discourage him. Let's make a difference!

The Great Debaters

The Great Debaters often obtained suspense in many moments. Nevertheless, it was not just the suspenseful moments that held this film together, but also the precise timing in the hints of horror and romance. The viewers experience the hardship, hurt, let down, and passion of these young “colored” debaters. At the same time, the ambition and success stood out exceptionally well. The fear and the courage teeter totter throughout the movie as well as the anger and disbelief. However, despite all of the obstacles faced, these thriving adolescents grasp onto the triumph they had trained for without fully knowing the dangers that lie ahead. At their own school, the students were like any other person chasing their own aspirations through education. Yet, outside of the school the students were rediculed and looked down upon because of the color of their skin. The young adults in this film endured so much and they used what they endured as a part of their debates. That in itself is an incredible lesson that many people find difficult to learn and teach. These students start out thinking they are nobody. All they were was African American students arguing a point in front of the people who’s perspectives they tried to change. At their last debate, they finally accomplished they had worked for for so long. Sure their coach was tough on them and didn’t tolerate anything less than the standards he had set for them, but they achieved self respect among many other things. Together, they learned life lessons and grew stronger as white men tried to bring them down. This movie was created with heartfelt passion and it was displayed throughout the movie. The Great Debaters is definitely deserving of all the kudos it has received!

Diego Rivera - Reflective Essay

     "I used to carry this big old world

On my shoulders and back

I used to lie inside my room

Wondering where I'm at...

I pulled the burden from off my back

And tossed it into the wind

And stretched my arms toward the sky

And let my life begin "Avril Lavigne wrote this in her song "Touch the Sky". Diego Rivera's picture (to the left) portrays these lyrics well, just as these lyrics portray my emotions well.

  

   A lady diving backwards into the wind above the rest of the world; this is what Rivera painted. However, I see the woman that "pulled the burden from off her back and tossed it into the wind". Each of us has our burden but it is how we choose to look it at it that counts. We can stretch our arms toward the sky and welcome the adversity as a blessing as well as a lesson, or we can continue to carry what Avril described as "this big old world." There are occasions we choose to do both of these.

    Both of my parents liked to drink. When I was in the fourth grade, I had seen the alcohol consume my father though I had thought it was my father who consumed the alcohol. My older half sibling, with whom I'd shared a room with, had also drank that night. She was under age and her body could not handle the consumption. She regurgitated the alcohol until it was no longer in her system. Waking to the mediocre smell, my mother came in our room to encourage my sister to shower. She did not cooperate. My father was still drunk and woke to mother’s firm voice. My younger sisters retreated to my parent’s room where I later consoled them, choking back my tears. It was the only time I had seen my father cry. I couldn't let myself break down. Child services came as well as the police. I had been visited by child services previously due to my mother’s son’s lack of discipline. I knew all the questions they would ask and ignored everyone of them. I saw my father cuffed and escorted. He had to stay with my grandparents for a while where my mother would drop us off to visit for a night. My sisters saw this as no uncanny thing. In fact they were excited about it. They "tossed it into the wind" but I could not. I fought tears for some time. I was closed. I always have been. Though it didn't take me long to realize I could trust and I needed someone to talk to. At that time, I saw everything differently. I knew it wasn't my father who was so outraged that day, but it was the alcohol. I made myself see that my mother took her son and daughter but didn't argue to take my father’s "three little girls" because she left on impulse and had planned to come back. I spent so much time in my own bubble that I failed to recognize these things. However, when I did "stretch my arms toward the sky and let life begin", I found the answers I wanted. Answers I needed to change my attitude and perspective. To rid myself of the tears I had no reason to fight.

   

   "I used to carry this big old world

On my shoulders and back

I used to lie inside my room

Wondering where I'm at...

I pulled the burden from off my back

And tossed it into the wind

And stretched my arms toward the sky

And let my life begin "

 - Avril Lavigne, "Touch the Sky"

Industrial Revolution - AP World Assignment

Complete Angel

He wrapped his wings around her
And whispered come with me
He stopped the pain and suffering
Then drew her more closely

They gave us time to say good bye
As she quietly let go
But her life was not over yet
I knew she wouldn't go

Life is not taken away
It is just reborn
For she became complete today
Shining like a star

One gold halo
Two white wings
And a heart as big as earth

Her life has changed
And so will ours
So greive no more for pain

She's pure now
And she's still near
We need not shed a tear

For he wrapped his wings around her
On that very day
He stopped the pain and suffering
And carried her away

Assignment 2-23-10 - 10 Quotes

"If you die you're completely happy and your soul somewhere lives on. I'm not afraid of dying. Total peace after death, becoming someone else is the best hope I've got (Cobain, Kurt)."

"I know God wouldn't give me anything I can't handle, I just wish he didn't trust me so much (Mother Theresa)."

"For all sad words of tongue and pen, the saddest are these, 'It might have been' (Whittier, John)."

"Forgiveness does not change the past, but it does enlarge the future (Boese, Paul)."

"Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it (J.K., Rowling)."

"You block your dream when you allow your fear to grow bigger than your faith (Morrissey, Mary)."

"Every secret of a writer's soul, every experience of his life, every quality of his mind is written large in his works (Woolf, Virginia)."

"A poet's autobiography is his poetry. Anything else is just a footnote (Yevtushenko, Yevgeny)".

"Anger is a killing thing: it kills the man who angers, for each rage leaves him less than he had been before - it takes something from him (L'Amour, Louis)."

"I have not failed. I've just found 10,000 ways that won't work (Edison, Thomas)."

Lie to Me

If the truth hurts and lies kill
Then speak sweet lies and let me die
For the bitter ones don't seem to work
They just cause pain to lerk and lerk

So tell me I'm loved
And this misfortune is all a dream
Tell me I'm not ripping at my seams

Ease the pain with gentle fibs
That softly make my soul give in

Sing to me of a made up world
Bring me happiness
Give my heart a twirl

Let blissful lies build up
And break me down
'Cause you know I'm nothing
Without you around

Outstretched

Grasping for control
Reaching for stability
My hand is outstretched towards you
But again you’ve backed away

“I do not know you”
You respond
But remember it was you who ran from me
For so many years

So my life’s book has a missing chapter
You’re reserved pages are all blank
And no, it shouldn’t be this way
But I’m taking my heart off display

Behind These Eyes

Look into these eyes


Tell me what you see

I've tried so hard to hide it

To believe that it's not real



But behind these eyes

Lay my emotions

I've hid from you and me



Would you see what I can feel…

If you looked into these eyes?



Anguish and fear

All of my dry tears

Lost behind these eyes



Confusion and misconception

On top of all the rest



I close my eyes

And it's still here

But you don't see a thing

Slipping Away

I can't think straight

And I don't know why

But there's some things I should've done

And I let them pass me by


I never will forgive myself

And second guessing doesn't help

If only I had another chance

To show you how I felt


But I let you slip away from me

Physically beyond control

Now there's nothing left to do

I must accept that you had to go

Ignorance

There's nothing left to say now

It's all said and done

I wrapped my arms around her

Her body felt so cold

Attending to her casket

It's not her laying there

Faith has carried her far away

Still I can feel her spirit here

I listen for her words

But only my conscience replies to me

In retrospection of her last words to me

The three I failed to return

Why did I disregard them?

And become the core of ignorance

It was the night before she passed

But only now I whisper back

Lord, please take good care of her

And all the ones I love

Keep them happy, let them rest

And teach us how to love

We Wear the Mask

We Wear the Mask
We wear the mask that grins and lies,

It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,—

This debt we pay to human guile;

With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,

And mouth with myriad subtleties.





Why should the world be overwise,

In counting all our tears and sighs?

Nay, let them only see us, while

We wear the mask.





We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries

To thee from tortured souls arise.

We sing, but oh the clay is vile

Beneath our feet, and long the mile;

But let the world dream otherwise,

We wear the mask!

        -By Paul Laurence Dunbar

A Little

It's a little too much

A little too real

I'm going a little too crazy

Missing you

You're a little too strong

I'm a little too weak

We're a little too tired

But all I do is think

You're a little too perfect

I'm a little too not
You're a little too nice

And I don't think that you know

You're a little too beautiful

I'm a little too cold

It's a little too quiet

But don't let me go

You're a little too amazing

I'm a little too scared

We're a little too vulnerable

Yet you know this too well

Still I love you a little
And a little more

Distance is merely an obstacle

That together we shall endure

Rebuild Haiti

Today I signed a petition for Haiti. This petition is an attempt to wave Haiti's $890 million debt in order for them to reconstruct their cities after the unfortunate event. As you may well know, Haiti recently suffered a destructive earth quake. I believe that money is but a material possession that can and will run out. Money can only buy so much for us when we already have our necessities. However, for Haiti, money means health care, shelter, clean water, and possibly several lives saved. I strongly encourage all who read this post to sign the petition for the greater good. The link is posted. Thank you!

http://www.theliteracysite.com/clickToGive/campaign.faces?siteId=6&campaign=NoHaitiDebt

Light in the Dark Assignment

What I Saw

    I’ll close my eyes to reality and open my mind to imagination. A barren kiva with light breaking through the center of the darkness is what I see. An adobe wall, a dirt floor, and a portion of an iniquity being illuminated are what I see. Nevertheless, I view these things not as the tangible objects I have described them to be, rather as symbols.

    An adobe wall with a sharp texture is the frame of the kiva. I saw this wall as my guard and as my internal self. The wall guards the kiva from the outside world as my habits and beliefs guard me from any unwanted and/or unnecessary feelings as well as thoughts. My internal self can be kind and supportive like the walls but all the same it can be sharp like the texture. I can be sharp as in mean, bitter, and apathetic. Furthermore, just like an adobe wall, my interior self can be torn down and diminished at times but also restored to be stronger and better.

    Dirt is composed of so many elements and has weathered a galore of agitation. In the same aspect, I am more than what I appear to be and am capable of many things. Still, just like any other human, I have fought my own battles in life and will continue to face more as the days go on just like the sand faces the wind and precipitation. Yet, these trials and characteristics are what build objects as well as people to be the things we become.

    I believe there will always be an iniquity in everyone. No matter how much we gain there is always more. Imperfections, lack of beliefs, I consider all of these to be iniquities. However, every now and then we have an epiphany and open our eyes to them. They become illuminated in our thoughts. I see the darkness and the iniquity as my lack of spirituality, prayer, thanks, and self security. If I can shine a light on these one at a time and fix them, I believe it can only make me a better a person.

    So you see, the “barren” kiva wasn’t barren after all. I am opening my eyes and looking past the entrance of the kiva. I’m finding myself. I saw my likes and dislikes. I saw my past, present, and future. I even saw my stronger areas and my imperfections. Most of all, what I saw was my internal reflection.

Love's Victim

Like shackles around the prisoners waist was the spell casted on her

Their hearts were bound together by wishful lies he drove her to believe

But his shackles she evaded though it tore her apart at the seams

Sunrise (Ancient Haiku)

The warm sun gently kisses my face as the morning air wraps me in its bitter embrace.