Day one of trip

    I haven't been able to write for a while because it has been hard to find time, so I'm starting off with my first day of my trip to the U.S. After waiting a few boring days between our vacation to the beach and our trip to the United States. Finally on the 22nd we headed to the airport around 11 am. We made our flight on time and I sat alone next to a guy from Minnesota. He was very nice and we talked for a while about why we live in panama, how we like it, and our plans for the holidays. I watched a few episodes of The Office and 30 Rock on the plane and by the time we were ready for landing he had drunken 4 vodkas and was drunk. My whole family was laughing from the row ahead and we kept joking about him for the rest of the night.
    We arrived at Miami Airport and had a three hour layover. We saw our grandparents briefly and ate dinner with them at a Cuban restaurant. It was great to see them after not seeing them for many months. We said bye and we headed to our gate at the far end of Miami Airport. Our flight left at 8:30 and we were at our gate with ten minutes to spare. Just then Carolina realized our error, we were at the wrong gate. Ours was at the far end of the airport and we only had 10 minutes. We ran like you had never seen before and hopped on the tram to our gate. By some miracle our flight had been delayed 13 minutes and we made it by a nick of time. The flight to DC wasn't as long and it passed by with the anticipation of seeing our cousins. By the time we arrived it was 11pm and we went pretty much straight to sleep. I can't wait to see my cousins tomorrow.

Wordly Wise

Once upon a time. In a ghetto far far away. There lived an audacious gangster named Sharone. Sharone was a very prudent man, and he always pilfered objects from people while they were at the annual gun convention. Sharone was so conscientious, that the neighbors never had the slightest inkling that they had been robbed. Whenever something went missing he would pretend to help the person look for it and give up saying, “If I can’t find it than no one can”. Sharone had a profusion of watches, golden rings, and bling he had stolen over the years. He had worked alone his whole life, knowing that if he had an accomplice they might commit mutiny and turn him in to the police.

One day while Sharone was strolling through the streets of Atlanta, he saw the pained look on the face of a wife living in a house that he had just robbed. Sharone realized that what used to please him know pained him. With a surprising serenity that was unusual for him, he walked up to her door step and handed her the 50mm Glock that he had stolen. Instead of rebuking him like he thought she would, she just thanked him and closed the door. Sharone realized the satisfaction he found in returning the stolen items. He realized that he didn’t want to be depicted as the gangster that he was anymore. So that night he decided to embark on his own quest, he would made sure to go during the darkest hour of night so that he wouldn’t rankle anyone, and he began returning peoples stolen items. Sharone soon became frustrated because the people were lackadaisical when they found the items at their door step. That evening after his shift at the KFC was over he went to the clothing store and bought a red hoodie, with red basketball shorts, a red snapback, 12 Dobermans and a sled. He soon began working with the Atlanta police and would return the stolen items that they had confiscated from criminals. Sharone was never slovenly during his work, and he would always make sure that no one would see him. When it became too much for him to return items every night he decided that every December 25, he would return all the stolen toys to little boys and girls in Atlanta. And that’s how the legend of Gangster Clause came to be.

Surprise

    Winter vacations just began and my family wasted no time to start vacationing. My sister's birthday was this Saturday and we decided to celebrate it in a special way. Cristina had always wanted a surprise birthday party, but the problem was that she had always planned her birthday like two months ahead. So this year we let her plan her own party, but on her birthday day we left and told her that we were going to dinner. Cristina, you can say is a very clueless child. Had it been anyone else in the family, they probably would have noticed that the dog had been gone all day, half of her clothes were missing, or even that we kept walking behind her with bags and boogie boards. Even when we drove for two hours and turned into Coronado, she didn't suspect anything at all. We had her convinced all the way until she was inside the hotel room. 
   We stayed at the Coronado Golf and Beach Resort. The suite we were staying in was probably one of the nicest hotel rooms I've ever stayed in. It had a down stairs that was complete with a bathroom, living room, dinning room, bed room and a balcony. It had a spiral staircase that led up to a loft with two queen size beds and a flat screen TV. I stayed up there with my sisters and even though they can be VERY annoying at times, we had lots of fun staying up until 1am and hanging out. The hotel was pretty nice, it had a pool, gym, spa, restaurant, and basically anything that most hotels have. It also had a nice golf course, but it rained too much so we couldn't play. Unfortunately it wasn't on the beach, but they had a shuttles that went back and forth to some beach front property that they owned. It had a pool, a bar, and jet ski's. The rain kept us inside for a lot of the time, but we still had tons of fun and it was an awesome experience.

Confession Tuesday, Cheer Leader Invasion

Okay, before I tell you my confession and you start thinking Wow what a total jerk! You need to know the whole story. So for like the past week my little sister has been stomping around the whole house 24/7 waving her hands and yelling chants like. “Go, Go! Fight, Fight! Win, Win! Go, Fight, Win!” She plans on making the Balboa Cheer Leading Team (you can just shoot me now). And unfortunately it's looking as if she's going to make it.

So I’m all up in my bed room like “Lina shut up!” “Practice a real sport” And even with my headphones on listening to music, my door shut, and Cristina blasting the lamest techno music you’ve ever heard from the office. The notorious “We are the mighty dragons and we’re going to rock this team to a victory!” can be heard from her bed room. (F.Y.I. Lina, let’s just say isn’t the best singer or cheerleader you’ve ever seen.)

So last night Lina was doing her usual cheers and I started making fun of them with my older sister. Lina’s getting all mad, and she’s like, “Pat if you think cheer leading is so easy why don’t we have a cheer off. So I’m there laughing my head off and I accept. Lina starts out with some cheer that she had learned at tryouts. So I’m next, and I start like pounding my chest, and head, and legs, and start running around the room pretending to be a dragon spiting fire at my sister about to die of laughter. Of course just to annoy her. She starts getting all mad that I’m mocking her cheer leading so she runs upstairs half crying. Next thing I know my parents are all over me. (I feel really really bad now). The night really sucked from then on, but that’s just life with two sisters.

To see more confessions return to middlemindz.blogspot.com.

The One that Fell Short

            5…4… Brock rockets the ball to Matthew at the top of the key. The last seconds of the fourth quarter in the Semi-finals of the VYI winter basketball league tick away, leaving us with just one last opportunity. A fierce, high scoring game is raging between the 1^st place Jade team, that is projected to win it all, and my team, the Denim Wranglers. We are the under dogs in this match up, having just come off a nail biting win the day before. But having no expectations put upon us is something that we feed on, and by some miracle we have made a stunning comeback to only be down by three points. The clock ticks away and we will need a last second shot to win this one. Lucky for us, last second comebacks are something that we have proved very capable of. Throughout the season we have already won three games that have been decided by three points or less.

We had been down in the first play-off game by one point when a kid on the other team accidentally turned around and shot the ball at his own basket. The moment the small brown basketball left his hands everyone seemed to realized his mistake, the crowd gasped and everyone watched in amazement. The ball seemed to roll around the rim teasing everyone for a few painfully long seconds. Before it stopped and rolled into the hoop, handing us the last second victory. I felt really guilty after the win. The short Korean kid with long shaggy hair who had just made the accidental basket ran to the bathroom and hid. He hid from his teammates, he hid from his parents, he hid from the world. He knew that everyone would hate him for what he had just done. His teammates all showed different emotions. Some cried in anger, some turned beat red and began punching the walls and throwing their water bottles on the ground. Most just stood there awestruck in disbelief of what had occurred. All hating their teammate. I just sat there in disbelief praying that I would never be that poor kid stuck in the bathroom. Little did I know that to my horror I would soon follow in his footsteps.

3… The score board read Jade 45, Denim 42. Matthew tries to drive in, but is met with two defenders under the basket. 2… He kicks out the ball to where I am standing at the top of the key behind the three point line. I am faced with only one option, to shoot it. This is risky I know, no one else on my team has shot a three-pointer all year. I flash back to the kid who lost the game for his team at the last second. I envisioned those tears running down his sweaty face, and his teammates not wanting to see him ever again. But I shake off the fear that tries to grip me. If I don’t shoot the ball, I will only bring more humiliation upon myself. 1… From behind the three-point line I square up with the rim and bring up the ball from my hip. My feet leave the ground and the next thing I know the ball is sailing through the air towards the basket. The buzzer buzzes, the loud sound is reflected off the tile walls off the gym. All that matters now is the ball. It hits the backboard up high, too high. The ball falls on the front of the rim with a dull clang, and for a moment I am unsure of whether it will roll in or out. If the buzzer beater were to go in I will become a hero, but if it falls short I will be just like the kid in the last game i think. It rolls for a second before the weight of the ball becomes unbalanced and falls down, out of the basket. Now I was the kid who everyone would hate for losing it. I had just ended the season for my team. 

Game over. Scenes rushed through my head of everyone glaring at me as they had to the other kid. All my teammates, all my friends were going to hate me. Nothing else would count, even though this had been one of my best performances ever, nothing would count. The points I made wouldn't be a factor, no one would remember my tenacious defense. But instead something unexpected occurred. "Hey It's okay man don't worry" Brock said. I just stood there stunned. Half of it was because of the depressing loss we had just faced, and the other half was that no one seemed mad at me. They were true teammates, they were true friends. I had failed them, but they had stayed loyal to me.

It's the 21st Century, Let it Drop

“In 1981 Mark Chapman approached John Lennon on the steps of the Dakota Hotel, New York and shot him five times killing him. Chapman then removed his copy of Catcher in the Rye from his pocket, signed by John Lennon earlier that morning, and tried to read it.” (Chasan 2) But I wonder whether the Catcher in the Rye was the motive, or even if it had anything to do with the case at all. Many schools nationwide have banned this, what some call, profane book from the schools. And according to an article a school teacher was even fired for assigning the book to kids. So should the Catcher in the Rye be taught in schools is an intricate question. Personally, strongly believe that this book should be taught to all kids as long as the teachers use discretion and assign it in the appropriate grade.

            This may be a book worthy of being banned in the 1960’s -1980’s, but times have changed. Back then, bikinis and short shorts would be extremely inappropriate. Now we look around and see half naked models on billboards, couples in bed on TV, and profanity in almost every book and movie. This book, even though 70 years old, is still very relevant to life now a day. Mainly because what he wrote at the time was so controversial. Now a day it is normal, and kids in the 21^st century are able to relate to it. It is also relatable because he writes about topics that most kids will always be able to relate to no matter how far in the future. J.D. Salinger wrote about many coming of age issues like becoming interested in girls, peer pressure to do the wrong things, and trying to fulfill everyone’s demands, which Holden has a lot of trouble with.

            Another reason I think that this book should be available to everyone, is because most kids will have or already have found out about the topics in this book. So as long as the teacher addresses it correctly there should be no problem with assigning the book. This book could actually be a positive learning experience if the teachers point out what Holden does wrong and what would have been the right thing to do in the end. Before schools ban the book they should asses what he students think of it and what they have learned from it. If parents get upset and start demanding that they are intent on not having their kids read the book, then the teachers can send home a permission slip informing parents about the book, and give them a second option if they decide that they don’t want their kids reading the Catcher in the Rye. This is a free world; you can’t just go around telling kids that they aren’t allowed to read certain books because you don’t agree with them. Now if you feel that a kid isn’t mature enough yet, then that’s one thing, but when you say that kids in High School can’t read it, then that is outrageous.

            The opposition may try to point out how it isn’t age appropriate for kids and it is against different people’s beliefs, but really I believe it isn’t. First of all there isn’t one real inappropriate scene which would be truly disturbing for kids of the right age. “In the first place, I'm sort of an atheist. I like Jesus and all, but I don't care too much for most of the other stuff in the Bible.” Holden says in chapter 14. In chapter 9 he says "In my mind, I'm probably the biggest sex maniac you ever saw." But really Holden isn’t that bad of a kid in my mind. Even though some might find parts of the book sexist, racist, anti-white, anti-gay, and practically anti-everyone, it’s just the way he sees life. People need to respect that that’s how J.D. Salinger wanted to portray Holden in the book. So even if many may disagree with Holden’s views, they need to let it go and know that at the end of the day they can believe whatever they want.

            I know that I stand strong with my opinion on this topic and I doubt that anyone can change my view. This book shouldn’t be banned from anywhere but an elementary school where kids may not be mature enough yet to read it, but chances are teachers weren’t going to be teaching it there anyway. If a parent for whatever reason didn’t want their child to read this book, I already shared my idea earlier of a second option for children to opt to. From first-hand experience, I can say that kids learn of this stuff way before their parents believe they do or would like. Reading this with a good teacher would be a very positive experience. So since this is a free world we are living in, and times have changed since when this book was published 70 years ago, this book shouldn’t be banned anywhere.

A Long Way Gone Book Review

Ishmael Beah’s story is a traumatic one, which was probably written for the reader as much as it was for Ishmael himself. I believe that after such a horrific childhood, Ishmael was trying to make sense of what he had been through during those lost childhood years by writing A Long Way Gone. This is by far my favorite memoir I’ve ever read. The way he pulled you into the story and shared his emotion was magnificent.

            When the story began it introduced us Ishmael, the average kid from the small African village of Mogwembo, in Sierra Leone. He has a love for American hip-hop and rap music, which he performs at talent shows with a group of his friends. One day he is on his way to his grandma’s village to perform a rap song in a talent show, when his home village is attacked by the ruthless RUF rebels who are in a gruesome war with the national army. The village is in utter chaos and everyone is separated trying to flee for their lives across the river. This would be the last time he ever saw his family.

            At this point in the book Ishmael realizes just how fortunate he had been before the war. He had a home, a peaceful environment, and a loving family, but the war stole that all from him. He was with six other friends just trying to get by each day. At this point he begins to believe that now he really has no future and that his life will never be the same. This is only the beginning for him, and already he feels hopelessness.

            For the next few months he wanders with a group of six friends, including his brother, through the dense forest of Sierra Leone just trying to survive. Along the way they are faced with a major problem. No one in the war torn country trusts anyone, especially a group of a group of seven 12 year old boys. Being mistaken for rebels countless numbers of times, they are repeatedly put at gun point by men protecting their villages. And repeatedly they must plead their cases chiefs, trying to convince them that they aren’t the ruthless rebels that they believe them to be, but a group of innocent children who have lost their families. “Some people tried to hurt us to protect themselves, their family and communities...This was one of the consequences of civil war. People stopped trusting each other, and every stranger became an enemy. Even people who knew you became extremely careful about how they related or spoke to you.” He said trying to describe the distrust that came with the war.

            This to me was one of the most important issues in the book. As is true with many wars, it brings a certain amount of distrust among people, especially when boys as young as 10 years old are being taken from their homes and are turned into trigger happy rebels. Everywhere they travel, they are suspected of being rebels and no one wants to aid them on their journey. When they are finally able to convince the tribal chiefs that they are just innocent boys, they are told that they can live but have to leave immediately. Even while walking on a path families will hide in the bushes when they come by.

            One night while they are staying in a village, they are attacked by the rebels sending everyone into chaos fleeing in all directions. Ishmael is separated from his friends and walks alone through the dense jungle for five straight days. On the fifth day while walking he stumbles upon some kids from school, he joins their group and starts a new journey with them.

            At this part I think he notices two things. First, he notices just how easy it is to lose someone at those times. At any time of the day you never know when you will see your friends again, or even if you will live to see the next day. The second thing I think he notices is the abundance of lost children wandering without their families, trying to avoid the war. He loses his friends and then five days later he’s off again with a new group of kids.

            The new group faces all the old challenges the old groups faced. They are in constant need of food and water, no one trusts them, and everywhere they go they need to be cautious of being captured or killed. At one village they learn that their families are located in the village only a few miles away, they are eager to set out and meet them, but decide to wait until morning. In the morning they set out for the village. On their way they help a farmer from a farm near the village carry some wood. You can fell their eagerness at this point to drop the wood and run to see their families again, but right when they get to the top of the hill the village is attacked by rebels. The rebels are ruthless and shot every person not letting anyone escape or taking any prisoners.

            This attack basically symbolizes his luck during the book. One mile short. One mile short of seeing his family, one minute away from being shot by rebels when held captive in a village, one bullet away from being dying and not being able to live to tell his remarkable story to the world. After coming so close to seeing his family and falling short he became depressed for the next few days saying he had rather die and been able to see his family.

            Ak-47s, ammo, a little food, and backpacks. On their first day they encountered rebels in the forest. They hid in the brush and ambushed them when they came closer. During the battle a kid right next to him gets shot and killed. Ishmael panics and stands up trying to revive the ten year old kid. He is yanked down before a bullet whizzes by right where he had been. He doesn’t fire a single shot in the first battle in fear that he might kill someone. Ishmael soon becomes addicted to marijuana and cocaine, in the next few battles he proves to be a strong fearless fighter killing dozens of rebels. During a contest one night he kills a rebel prisoner in less than five seconds and becomes a “Junior Lieutenant”. He leads some small scouting missions and at one point he and five other soldiers take an entire village by themselves.

            This right here is the heart of the story. He is turned from the innocent lost boy to a fearless soldier. He kills countless men and has no mercy. He sees how in reality the military is no better than the rebels. They are murderous monsters that attack even their own villages for supplies. Ishmael changes drastically throughout this part of the book. He is hooked on drugs, he kills rebels for pleasure, and war has become his life. All he does is fantasize about war and imagine that he was Rambo taking on a whole army.

            Ishmael has become high ranked in the military and never wants to leave, but all that changes. One day a UNICEF truck pulls up and the lieutenant chooses Ishmael and 4 other boys. They are all enraged when they find out that they are being removed from the war and brought to a rehab facility. They plot to hijack the truck, but each time that they are about to attack they pull up to a checkpoint. They arrive at the rehab center where they are given rooms with beds. There are a lot of people already living there and more arrive by the hour. The clueless UNICEF workers don’t realize their mistake of joining the RUF rebel kids with the kid soldiers until it’s too late. A horrible fight breaks out killing six of the kids. He is sent with a group of retired kid soldiers to a rehab facility farther from the capital Freetown. They act totally irrational; they attack employs, steal food, and sell their supplies for money. The workers only give them new supplies and say “It’s not your fault.” This drives them mad. In their minds they are still soldiers and they shouldn’t be taking orders from civilians. After a few days they start going crazy from the detox and lack of drugs in their body. Finally they are able to get over it and the center begins to become his home.

            This is a drastic change in the story, he thought he was going to be a soldier his whole life and then all of a sudden he is taken away to rehab. He feels betrayed by his battalion and he wants nothing more than to be back on the front lines. He had changed from a child to a soldier overnight, but changing back would prove very difficult. Even at the rehab center the war is still raging with fights that break out daily. At the beginning he still feels superior to the civilians and city soldiers who they mock. They act like brats for the first few weeks knowing that the workers and city soldiers can do nothing about it. Ishmael realizes how hard he was to bring back to his old self and just how much he had changed. 

            As the need for drugs gradually wash out of their systems they begin to behave better and go to school so they can take a trip to the city each weekend. Ishmael becomes great friends with a nurse by the name of Esther. She befriends him and really helps him get back to his old self. She plays a major role in restoring his life; she buys him a Walkman and Bob Marley’s album. He spends time with her every day and she helps him track down a lost uncle who lives in the city. He finally meets his uncle and every week goes home with him for a day to meet his family and get used to his house.

            Esther becomes a major part of his life, and without her he probably would have ended up a very different person. She was like a motherly figure for him who he could converse with and joke around with. She was also someone who he could trust which was hard to find at the rehab center. He blows off the criticism he receives from his friends and stays with her every day.

            One day he finally goes home with his uncle who has five other kids who he has adopted. One week after h moved in with his uncle, one of the men from the rehab center came to the door and asked him to come with him. He told Ishmael that he wanted him to go to an interview in the city to go to the UN in New York and talk about the problem of child soldiers to the council. When he goes to the city he is amazed by the size of the building and the other kids laugh at him when he stands in front of the elevator not sure of how to work. He tells the man who is interviewing him for the trip that he deserved to go more than any of the city boy, because he himself had been a child soldier. A few days later he gets a call telling him that he along with one other kid has been chosen to go to the UN in New York. The next few weeks he spends in anticipation getting his visa and passport. His father keeps telling him to not get his hopes too high because these people lie all the time.

 When the day comes he says bye to his family leaves the country for the first time in his life. When he arrives in New York he is stunned by the freezing temperature and the icy wind. He can’t fathom how people could possibly live in a place as cold as New York, and he instantly wants to return home to Sierra Leone. He bonds with the other 52 kids from around the world and goes around the city every night with his new friends. When they accidentally stumble upon Times Square they are flabbergasted and just stand there mesmerized for a few minutes. The next day they go to the UN and give preplanned speeches in front of the general council. Ishmael decides that instead of giving the speech he had planned, to talk to the council and tell his story from his heart. At the end of his story people come up to him telling him how much he inspired them. After the week with his 52 new friends, he realizes just how an amazing of an experience he had been through and just how much he didn’t want to leave. When they are at the airport ready to depart they all break down and start crying, not wanting the wonderful experience to end.

Ismael is definitely changed at this point in the book. Right here he sees just how amazing and lucky his journey was. He knows how much of a problem child soldiers are from first-hand experience, and he realizes just how much he wants to stop it, and what it means for his country. When he gets to America for the first time he kind of hates it, but by the end of his trip he wants to stay there forever. Also his conception of New York changes “My conception of New York City came from rap music. I envisioned it as a place where people shot each other on the street and got away with it; no one walked on the streets, rather people drove in their sports cars looking for nightclubs and for violence.” He also befriends one of the councilors at the UN named Laura, who gives him her phone number if he ever needs anything.

He finally arrives back home in Sierra Leone and tells his family all about the strange culture in New York, and they all agree that it was very weird. Ishmael is extremely eager to start school again as a normal student again, but when he arrives at the school he and his one other friend who had been on the trip with him in New York were looked down on for having been child soldiers. He doesn’t let this bring him down because he decides that anything is better than his past life, and when he thinks this he begins to smile. Later that month, one morning a huge group of rebels march into the capital and start fighting with the soldiers. Later that afternoon the General announces that he has overthrown the current president and his group of soldiers and the rebels join up to make the Sebles. They go around looting and stealing all around the city for the next few months. The sound of gunfire and explosions become a usual noise, and people need to look around the city for any place that still has food, and the only place they can find food is in a black market where prices are more than double the usual cost. During those months his uncle dies of a disease and regardless of the soldiers occupying the streets, tons of people come out for his funeral.

“They had run so far away from the war, only to be caught back in it. There is nowhere to go from here.” (201) He says when the rebels invade the capital. He had tried so hard and almost got away from the war, but now he realizes that there is just no safe place to be in the whole country. This is when he begins to realize that this country isn’t fit for a boy to grow up in and that he has to get out of there. The situation goes from bad to worse the longer the city is under Sebel control. The leader changes almost every other month and you can never plan what will happen to you in the future.

Ishmael contacts Laura and explains his situation and asks if he can go to New York and live with her. She says that that would be great and she wires him some money. He sneaks out to a secret bus stop where tons of people get on the bus and set out to travel to the northern border with Guinea. They get stopped countless amounts of time at checkpoints where they need to get off their bus, show their documents, and usually bribe their way back to the bus. After more than a day of travel they arrive at the border with Guinea and cross over it becoming free of the war. He finds it very hard to communicate because they all speak French in Guinea instead of English. He is able to communicate enough to get to the Sierra Leone Embassy where he and other refugees are able to stay for a while. At the very end of the book he thinks of a story that he had been told by an elder in his village. A hunter is out hunting and is about to shoot a monkey when it says “Stop! If you shoot me your mom will, but if you don’t your dad will die. Then the elder would end the story and ask all the children what they would do while their parents watched them, the kids would never answer. At the end of the book Ishmael decides that he would shoot the monkey and his mom would die, but then no one else would to face the decision again. This decision signifies how he has matured and is now a different person then who he was as a soldier. He is willing sacrifice someone he loves so that others wouldn’t have to suffer.

In this final escape we see how he realizes the horror of war and fighting. He knows that if he stays he would either run into an old friend from the army who would shoot him if they found out he had been rehabilitated, or he would end up rejoining the army which he was intent on not doing. He risks his life trying to escape the situation and ultimately is one of the few lucky people who were able to make it out, and he knew what lay ahead of him when he arrived in America. Laura ended up becoming his mom and he went to a special UN school, then on to college.

The title of this book is very significant, A Long Way Gone. The title basically means that he is far away. He is far away from home, he is far away from happiness, and he is far away from peace. It also means how he has gone a long way to try and find a peaceful home where he will be safe. I remember seeing that he used those exact words in the book at one point, but I’m uncertain if he took that line from his book and made it the title, or if he put the title in the book afterwards to show the meaning of it. Another thing that I found interesting was the front cover. “a long way gone” and “ishmael beah” are both written all in lower case. And “Memoirs of a Boy Soldier” are written in what looks like hand writing. There is a picture of a boy the age he was in the book walking with a gun and bazooka, but I doubt it’s actually him. I think the title is written the way it is to show how young he was.

This book is amazingly written and there are a lot of great quotes from the book. Out of these I had two favorites. The first one was said by an old man in his grandma’s village. “We all must strive to be more like the moon” he said, reminding people to always people to be on their best behavior. The old man justifies what he says by saying. “People complain when there is too much sun and the again when it is too cold. However, no one grumbles when the moon shines, because a lot of happy things happened in the moonlight.” I just loved the sound and flow of this quote. It made me put down the book for a minute and actually think about the meaning of it. My second favorite quote was. “Some nights the sky wept stars that quickly floated and disappeared into the darkness before our wishes could meet them.” I loved this quote because it showed how he was feeling down and how everything, including the sky was sad. It also showed his bad luck again. He would see the shooting stars, but never be able to make a wish in time.

Ishmael learned so much about himself through writing this book. The most important thing I think he realized from writing was that fighting is not an answer to problems. “I joined the army to avenge the deaths of my family and to survive, but I've come to learn that if I am going to take revenge, in that process I will kill another person whose family will want revenge; then revenge and revenge and revenge will never come to an end...” This quote I found to be so real, and it showed what he had come to learn. And because of this he now works with the UN trying to prevent child soldiering around the world. He had joined the war because of his family’s death, and he ended up killing families. If someone didn’t put a stop to it, it would be an endless cycle. The book was one of the best memoirs I have ever read.

Love Kills (Sleepy Hallows from Katrina's POV)

I ride past the old abandoned school house and slow Wild Flower down to an easy trot. Ever since the loss of Ichabod Crane the school house had fallen into shambles. Wild grass protruded from the windows and cracks in the wall. The ancient pine wood logs were starting to decompose, leaving the area with an eerie aroma of decay. The school house, which used to be the symbol of my childhood, is now a place of scary stories and a place for young boys to show off their manliness by going there at night. Now everything is in disarray. Ichabod’s old maple wood desk had collapsed from the over powering weight on the decayed legs. As I rode past the demolished school house I couldn’t help but think of Ichabod, the man who had happened to find a crevice in my heart.

I had always thought that Ichabod was a peculiar type of man. He was different from all the other men, with his loose form and narrow frame, his love of scary stories no matter how gruesome, and his strict demeanor that could change on a whim. He had been my school teacher my whole life growing up. He was quite harsh at times and was known to go on tirades when a kid wouldn’t do his homework. Ever since I turned 15, he seemed to have a thing for me, but I didn’t care much since I have a lot of admirers. Not to be arrogant, but I’m one of the prettiest and most popular girls in all of Tarry Town. Ever since I was five years old, I had realized boys fighting for my attention. The first time I remember a fight over me was in Kindergarten, when Alex punched Jonathan because they both liked me. Since then, the fights have escalated to the point where Ichabod Crane, my school teacher, has gone missing. Some suspect foul play by Brom Bones; some others (mainly the house wives) believe it was the Headless Horseman.

            It all started when Ichabod Crane started liking me and competing against Brom Bones. I don’t think I ever really gave Ichabod much of a chance. Maybe it was his lanky body and low paying job, but I just didn’t find him very attractive. On the other hand, Brom Bones was the complete opposite. He was a strong man, a skilled horse rider, and the town hero. Brom was liked by many and scared off most of his other opponents. He was capable of making even the biggest man abhor being in his presence. When other men approached, they would speak to him in a tremulous voice. I don’t quite understand why Ichabod wasn’t ever intimidated by Brom. Maybe it could have been that he tried to avoid him, but I believe that it was because he felt something more for me, something that Brom didn’t, and this impelled him to keep fighting.

            The time was coming for me to marry, and I could tell that my dad was beginning to feel impatient. So he sent out invitations for a party the next night at our house. The plan was for me to choose the man I wanted to marry. Ichabod didn’t conceal his excitement when he got the invitation. I think he may have forgotten that I was in the classroom because he started rushing the class and doing things as fast as possible, eager to get ready for the party. We finished about an hour early that day; the room was in shambles and everything was amiss.

 When I got home I helped Father oversee the set-up of the party. Golden ribbons streamed from one corner to another, and a delicious roast was prepared to feed 50 people. When everything was done Father prepped me on the kind of guy he wanted. Basically he described Brom; it was obvious who he wanted. The guests started arriving and the musician started playing. Right at seven ‘o’clock Ichabod walked in clad in his best suit. Ichabod seemed mesmerized by the sheer size of my house. He stood there for an awkward second taking on the house before greeting us. Throughout the night I danced with many men. Ichabod was by far the best dancer, making sure to move every part of his body. Brom came in his finest tailored suit; he had very nicely combed hair, and what I recognized as very expensive French shoes. I was wearing a new pink and yellow ball gown that had little roses sewed onto it. The gown was made out of the finest material in all of Tarry Town and was tailored just for me.

The night went on and guests slowly started to fade until finally only Ichabod was left. I knew that my final choice would be Brom Bones, so I decided to have some fun and started flirting with Ichabod. He started getting very into it. He entreated for me to love him, but I decided to tell the poor man that I didn’t want his love. I suppose I may have been a little harsh, for he stormed out in quite a flurry. Ichabod was quite the irascible man when he lost something.

The next day at school we sat outside of the school house for almost three hours. What began as an idle wait soon escalated to insults and fighting without the supervision of an adult. Finally a dad of one of the kids told us that Ichabod had gone missing and that school would be cancelled for the day. I instantly felt a wave of guiltiness, fearing that I had been the source of the problem. Later that day his horse was found wandering aimlessly at his front gate without a saddle and it appeared much shaken up. A group of the strongest men went out searching for him. Though I’ve never told anyone, I’ve had a secret side of me that loves gruesomeness and scary things. I secretly went out later that day when I heard accounts of the men finding his saddle by the edge of the ravine with a smashed pumpkin lying next to it. I personally saw where the saddle and pumpkin were found and I came to my own conclusion. I doubt the existence of the Headless Horseman and I don’t really believe that Major Andre’s Tree and the bridge are haunted. I believe that Brom had dressed up as the Headless Horseman and had killed Ichabod so that he could have my love. To this day, Brom still finds so much satisfaction in hearing the story and at the part where they find the pumpkin he begins to laugh. I ended up marrying Brom as I planned, but every now and then I do wonder how my life would have been with Ichabod. I guess love can kill.

Reflection of The Broker

The Broker, by John Grisham is a book about a man who had it all and then lost it, and how he had to survive with nothing. The book is named The Broker because the main character Joel Backman is a huge power broker in Washington D.C. before his world gets flipped upside-down. I found this title simple and boring; a better title for this book would have been “Pardoned” because he gets pardoned at the beginning of the book, and it leaves the reader pondering the meaning of the title.

            In The Broker, by John Grisham. Joel Backman a huge power broker gets sent to 15 years of solitary confinement for treason for trying to sell the most modern satellite that had been hacked. Joel is shockingly pardoned at the 11th hour of President Morgan’s presidency, as a plan by the C.I.A. to see which country kills him first to determine who’s satellite it was originally. Joel is rushed off to Bologna, Italy where he lives for the next few months staying low and trying to fit into the Italian culture and learning Italian. His identity and his appearance are changed to help him fit in, and he gets a new name, Marco Lazerri. In Bologna he is paired up with Luigi his care taker who is watching him closely, and when the time comes will have to witness his murder. Joel lives in Bologna for about 4-6 months, and when the time comes the C.I.A. purposefully leaks the information to 8 main countries. Joel begins to realize that something is wrong when he gets stopped by two Americans who call him by his real name. He makes an escape and contacts his son Neal who sends him a smart phone and begins to communicate with Joel. All of the countries who received the leaked information go to Bologna to attempt to murder him. Joel has to escape repeated attempts until he finally makes his way back to Washington and makes a deal with the Pentagon to ensure his safety.

            Joel really matures from the beginning of the book to the end. At the beginning he is a ruthless broker who only cares about power and money, he never really cared about family or others. He had three kids who he rarely ever saw and he was married four times. At the end he finally begins to realize what a terrible father he was and how he never did find true love. He goes to Culpeper, Virginia were he finally sees his granddaughter for the first time. He also finds true love in Italy with his Italian teacher.

            My favorite character in this book was Neal because he is a fun exciting person who even though his father was never there for him he becomes the bigger man and helps him when he most needs it. Neal is going through some hard times and is on a very tight budget, but when he gets a letter from his dad he secretly takes out $4,000 to aid his dad. “Joel was not a topic Neal like to talk about. Or think about. He had been a lousy father, absent for most of his childhood…Now he was back asking for money that Neal did not have” (238). One person who I didn’t like at first was Francesca, Joel’s second Italian teacher. At first she seemed mean and very strict, but as the book went on she became more generous and at the end she plays a key role in Joel’s escape. Joel takes the identity of her dying husband to fly back to the U.S. At the end he goes back to Italy and you can infer that he will marry her.

            I loved this book and I think that this would be a great read for anyone who likes action packed books. The author did an outstanding job developing the plot and keeping the book interesting. He was very descriptive and created intricate relationships with the characters. Overall this was a great read.   

Mikes Glove

Looking into Mike’s warm blue eyes I found weakness. It was hidden in the back corner concealed by an impenetrable wall of false strength and power, the same strength and power that he used to have only one depressing year ago.

            Sitting next to him, on an ancient maple wood desk was his tan, leather, left handed catcher’s glove. The pocket was worn smooth from hundreds, no thousands, of fastballs, sinkers, and even some curve balls which were very rare for his age. He was only eleven, yet he still managed to be an A+ student, Little League MVP, and he was the most popular kid in his whole elementary school.

The glove was as old as my Great Grandpa Chuck. We called him Chuckles because of his cheerful disposition. He was the very man that gave him that glove when he was only five years old.  Mike had always idolized Chuckles; he thought of him as highly as God himself. To tell you the truth, they were nearly identical. Chuckles played catcher, so Mike played catcher. Chuckles liked Bing Crosby, so Mike liked Bing Crosby; Chuckles loved poetry, so Mike loved poetry. The list went on and on. The last one was the most depressing. Chuckles died of leukemia, and Mike was soon to follow in his footsteps.  

Chuckles gave him the glove on the day he died. Written with green pen in the center of the pocket was a poem called, If You Forget Me. Mike loved the idea of writing poetry in his glove, and after every loss or chemo therapy treatment, he would write another poem as a way to lift his spirits. I slipped my hand into the glove. Its insides had been covered with white, furry hair. The hair had turned a yellowish color and had bunched up into wads from the sweat over the years. I turned it over to read some of the poetry, but to my horror it was all gone, all smudged into a dark green blob. Then I remembered it. It was a terrible memory, but I couldn’t stop myself from thinking of it

It was a rainy day in late fall, and two important things were happening that day. First, it was the day of the Brooklyn Little League Championship, and second, it was the six year anniversary of Chuckles’ death. Mike had been in a bitter mood all morning. Even though Chuckles had died six years ago, Mike remembered him as if it was just yesterday. The game started at noon, but mom insisted on getting there at 10:30 a.m. to get prime, front row seat. The game started right at noon at lasted for what seemed like forever. After two hours of playing, it was 4-5 in the bottom of the ninth inning. There were two outs and runners on first and third. The championship would be theirs with just two more outs. Jason, the star pitcher, threw a 60 mph fast ball that was just inside. Mike, the catcher, was lost in thought thinking about Chuckles and reading the poetry on his glove. The ball was a little bit inside and hit Mike on the side of his helmet. It bounced off his helmet into the fence. All of a sudden, he stumbled and fell into a deep puddle, unconscious. An ambulance was called and my whole family rushed onto the field. Mike’s glove was all smudged from the puddle and I couldn’t read a single word of it.The next day a doctor told us the most horrific news, Mike had a severe case of leukemia. It was the last thing that I would’ve expected to hear. It left me in shock for almost a whole week.

Here I was now watching my little brother on the cold, white hospital bed. I never told him I kind of idolized him. He was the little brother I had always wanted. In the next few moments I watched my little brother drift away. His eyes gently closed and he lived no more. Only his memory would live on.  Now every time I pick up the glove I feel as if I can almost touch him.

Enslaved

February 17 1662

My Dearest Efuru,

           

I know that you will never receive this letter, and if by some miracle you do, you probably wouldn’t be able to read it because I’m writing in the native language of the settlers in this new world. I have been able to learn the language by using a guile plan that I came up with. Once a week when my master and his family are all asleep, I creep into their house in the dark of night and secretly take the little boy’s English homework. I study it for hours on end and finally before the cover of night fades away and the little boy wakes up, I return the papers to his bag and go back to my living quarters. I know that if I were to ever get caught my hateful master would gruesomely beat me.

It’s been almost seven years now since that tragic day when the white men came and took me from our house. It is imperative that I know how my child is doing. It breaks my heart that they took me away before I ever got to know him. I hope that he will make a great warrior and someday take my place as a strong leader of our tribe.

            I was taken to the new world on an unsanitary ship that was even disgraceful for slaves. We were forced to row for hours on end, and if we let out a word of complaint we would be starved for days. They wouldn’t dare beat us because they wanted to keep us strong so they could sell us for more money. If I had my old disposition I would have fought back, but now that I am a slave, I follow the orders of my masters. I was brought to a colony in the south, which I think is called North Carolina.

            I was sold to an older man by the name of Mr. Johnson. He has a family of 5, and 12 other slaves to work his cotton farm. Ginning cotton is hard work, and when a spontaneous strain of small pox pervaded throughout the plantation, 5 of the slaves died and work was almost doubled.

            I highly doubt I’ll ever see your precious, loving face again. But as I stare up into the sky while writing this message, I see the stars and I know that you are at the other end looking up at the same stars. I will never give up hope of seeing you again.

                                                Love,

                                                         Kweku  

Vulture Eye

I grimaced. The scream was short, electrifying; it lasted no more than a few seconds. But that’s all it took. I knew it instantly. It came from the old mans house right across the street. I had been weary of that house ever since the mad man went to work there. I had once known the mad man. He was a very nice man, of course that was before he went mad.

            He was a young man by the name of Alexander Johnson. He was a tall, handsome, gingerly man, until it happened. Alexander was working for me at the time. Although he knew he would always be poor he wouldn’t complain. He took on a job just to help his mother; everything he did was for his mother. His mother was a generous, kind woman. But she was poor and no matter what she did she could never get out of debt. She endeavored that by the time Alexander graduated from high school she would be out of enough debt to send him to college. Unfortunately she would never live to see him off to college. One day she had gone to the bank, which the old man had owned, to apply for another loan. The old man told her that if she did not pay off her debt bad things would happen. She wasn’t able to repay her debt, and 10 days later she was found dehydrated, dead in a shack outside of town clad in bloody sheets. Though no one could corroborate that it was the old man who had done it, everyone knew that it was he who had committed the foul crime.

            Alexander was never the same. He went to the old man’s house one night and had screamed at him in an abrasive tone until he had no voice left. Next he gruesomely drove a stick into the old man’s eye, knowing that that very eye that had witnessed his mother death. It blinding him forever, leaving the old man with a vulture eye. Alexander would wake up at night screaming for his life. I took inventory of how many times he did this and on the tenth time I succumbed to the idea that I would have to fire him. It was a hard thing to do; of course it wasn’t his fault. I just couldn’t live with a mad man in my house.

            Now, three years later Alexander had secretly changed his identity to evade the police (I only happen to know this because I had accidentally happened to stumble upon some forged documents he had in his room and had given them a cursory glance). He also was able to get a job with the old man as his assistant. I could sense he had a gruesome plan, but I felt pity on the boy after his mother died, so I decided not to turn him in. But the second I heard the scream I surmised that it was the young man getting revenge on the man’s eye that reminded him of his mother’s death. I simulated the death in my head as I lay awake. Maybe he crept up on him in the pitch dark of night and stabbed him brutally. But I knew he wouldn’t have; the man might have been mad, but he wasn’t an idiot. He would know not to leave a trail of blood. I rapidly phoned the police and concisely told them of what I surmised might have occurred. When I spoke to the police as they were leaving the house, I derived information about what happened inside the house. I was told how when the police went in to investigate they initially found nothing, but after a while the man went mad and showed them were he had stashed the suffocated body under some loose planks.

 I was told that the death penalty awaited him in the coming months. I was sad to hear of this, but I decided that he had committed a crime worthy of death. A heartless judge wouldn’t care to hear of the troubles this young man had been through that led to such an atrocity. I guess the young man would die happy knowing he had avenged his mother’s death.

Day 1- Making a Blog

You can’t imagine how hard it could be to come up with a blog name. When Armaan needed a name I was able to come up with one right away, "Armawesome". Then I had to think of one for me. “It can’t be that hard” I thought. I started thinking, and thinking, and thinking, but I couldn’t come up with any good names for it. Mclife, PM Life, no they were both bad. Then it hit me. One of the things I like to do most is play Lax (Lacrosse). So I decided to make my name chilLAXin. I spent a while editing and designing my blog until I thought it was exactly how I wanted it. I think it’s a cool idea to do blogging and having people comment, I like a lot more then the good old fashion writing it on a paper and turning it in.