Poetry Out Loud: My Poem

               As I was scrolling down the list of poems on the Poetry Out Loud website, I would randomly click and skim before going back to the list.  I'll admit, I was getting pretty frustrated.  All of the poems were nice, some even beautiful--but none of them seemed to relate to ME, personally. Then, I saw a title and stopped scrolling.  I just looked at it for a few seconds.  Solitude was its name.  I thought about how powerful the title was.  It literally gave me chills.  It is packed with connotation, and can mean a different thing to every person.  To someone, it might mean isolation, exclusion, and sadness.  But another could see it as a word describing serenity and rejuvinating peace.  I clicked the link.  As soon as I began reading, I was lost in the words.  The writing was beautiful.  I read it aloud.  I simply spoke it, yet it sounded like a song with delicious language and a lovely melody.  Ella Wheeler Wilcox created a poem that spoke to me. 
              
                The most prominent lines in the poem, in my opinion, are in the following section:
"There is room in the halls of pleasure,
For a large and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on

Through the narrow aisles of pain."

In a way, this line voices my worries, but I also disagree with the poet which makes this poem perfect for me.  Everyone worries that their friends are only around us because they want a share of your happiness, energy, wealth, whatever.  That they don't care about us personally.  I know this is not true, however, but the poem is still touching.  My friends are there even when I am at my worst, my unhappiest. Human nature is to avoid people who bring you down, though, and I think that this is true in a lot of cases.  The only things that can overcome this shallow human tendency is love and care.  When you actually care about someone's feelings, it isn't difficult to stay with them even at their worst. 

Developing my Skills for a Second Paragraph...

           When I returned my 5 part paragraph, I had forgotten one of my transitions!  I was writing so fast and moving so quickly that I simply forgot it!  I have no idea why I, or someone else didn't catch it before I presented.  I also used very boring verbs in my To Kill a Mockingbird paragraph.  Another thing I told myself I would work on was my sentence types.  Reading over my paragraph I noticed that my sentences didn't really vary in length--they were all complex sentences!

             This time around, the key was to SLOW DOWN.  I have a problem with speed: talking, writing, EVERYTHING.  My life goal should be to slow down and smell the roses!  :)  While writing this second paragraph, I realized I needed to take my time to perfect it.  I went slowly, checked my rubric, and carefully chose words.  Hopefully this time I won't leave something out, and my paragraph will be an improvement on my first try!

Poetry Out Loud

Part 1, website cruising:
1.  Grief
2.  Life
3.  a) Dog
b)  Alone
4. a) Kindness
b)  Fairy-tale Logic


I liked Fairy-tale Logic because it was whimsical and reminded me of magic.  Grief was also a beautiful poem, but it was depressing.  Since it will take work to learn a poem, I want to make sure it is the perfect poem that relates to me.  I am most interested in Fairy-tale Logic.  It personally relates to me because I like to write fairy tales and I understand exactly what the author is thinking.  I enjoyed most of the poems I read, but not one of them seemed just right.  I'll have to keep looking! 

Reading the criteria made me nervous!  I will have no problem projecting, because I have a loud voice.  I am a little worried about the pacing issue--I talk REALLY fast, Especially when I'm nervous!  Also having good posture and a "confident stance" will be hard.  I tend to slouch sometimes.  I know that I can make eye contact with my audience; I know lots of my classmates and have no problem making eye contact when I speak. 

I watched Stanley Jackson's performance of Writ on the Steps of Puerto Rican Harlem.  It was a great performance for one main reason--Stanley looked confident.  He acted, used hand gestures, and his eyes didn't just stay in one place.  He never looked at his feet, and his pace was perfect.  The next video I watched was a video of Sophia Soberon reciting Bilingual.  I loved this one!  Sophia was so confident in Spanish as well as English.  The contrasting two languages made the poem more interesting.  I also loved her facial expressions.

The website was really well-organized, and it's great that they have this program available in so many places!  I am excited to find and learn a poem that relates to me, but I am also nervous to recite it.  What if I forget the words?  Or get really nervous?  I just have to work hard to learn the poem well and hopefully everything will run smoothly.

The most important skill...

                    The most important thing that I have learned in English so far is how to analyze the symbolic meanings of poetry compositions.  I never knew that there's sometimes an entire story beneath the surface of a poem.  I now know how to recognize irony, satire, connotation, metaphors, and theme.  These tools of the writer are what make poetry special, irreplaceable.  In the past I have wondered, "Why do people like poetry?  It's dull and pointless."  But now I know that there is so much more to a poem than what is gathered from first glance. 
                       Take shoulders, for example.  A man walks down the street in the rain with his son.  I'd have thought, "Awesome.  Why do I care?!" Now, I know why.  Because beneath the literal meaning is a statement about the human race:  everyone needs to help eachother through the many obstacles in our long lives.  Poets are brave enough to say things that everyone is thinking.  They say it beautifully in a way that creates a piece of art out of a simple message.  Poems mold to the reader like a pair of running shoes.  The reader can relate his or her own experiences to the poem.  The meaning is slightly changed in the mind of each reader.  People might get different things from a poem, and that is why poetry is so unique.  Poets think differently, and it takes a new perspective and some knowledge to appreciate their work.  Learning to analyze poetry has given me the key to a new world I never knew existed.

Lobsters

               These past few weeks we have been working on discussing poetry and prose more deeply than just the surface level literal meaning.  We have been taught to analyze a piece literally before examining connotation and tone in order to discover the underlying message.  While discussing the poem "Lobsters" By Howard Nemerov, someone in our class said something that changed how I think about it.  A question was posed that had to do with the author comparing lobsters to humans.  A girl answered, "The author isn't comparing lobsters to humans.  He is saying that humans are like lobsters."
               It was amazing how a comment so simple caused a lightbulb to go off in my mind.  It was like this obvious statement had opened up an entire new world of thought.  I realized that the author isn't discussing the similarities of lobsters and humans.  Upon first reading the poem, I thought of it as light, even whimsical.  "Lobsters are in a tank, dreaming, while similarly spacey, ditzy people walk around the store buying food," I was thinking.  After my epiphany, the poem took on much darker symbolic meaning.  Now I personally see the poem as the author's way of saying, "Like the lobsters in the tank, we go about our lives, stupid, unknowingly bound for death and destruction." 
               These discussions with our class have helped me realize how much time is needed to fully understand the symbolism in a piece of writing!     

5 Part Paragraph

               The usage of the 5 Part Paragraph for literary analysis involves many specifics.  The embedding of quotes has to be done in a certain way, commentary must be limited to two sentences, and there absolutely has to be a transition before each new concrete detail.  The rubric addresses so many specific areas that it is sometimes challenging to follow it perfectly.  Our class had the most trouble with their quotes, commentary, and transitions.  Quotes tended to be out of chronological order.  The order of the quotes is important because if correctly placed, a paper will follow the natural flow of the storyline and will be easier to organize and follow in a reader's mind.  The 5 Part Paragraph calls for two commentary sentences.  For some reason, quite a few people had too many or too few commentary sentences.  Another commentary-related mistake was the addition of plot summary to sentences following concrete details.  Commentary is supposed to be strictly the authors ideas, without a summary of the plotline.  Transitions are another important element of the 5 Part Paragraph.  These sentences introduce new ideas that fit with the topic statement.  The most common strength was writing style.  In my opinion, most students had papers that flowed well and had good word choice.  It was evident that most worked hard on revising and perfecting this assignment!
               I need to personally work on a few parts of my paper.  I left out a transition, which is an imperative part of the paragraph for good thought flow.  Another thing that could be improved is my word choice.  I should spend more time carefully selecting each adjective and verb in order to avoid sounding redundant.  To improve my papers, I need to slow down and take the time to double check my rubric and choose vibrant words that will spice up my writing.  With a little time and practice I'm sure I can perfect my 5 Part Paragraph! 
                 

Informal Diction

                I ain't feelin' too well.  Yesterday, I woke up with a tummyache.  I slept for most o' the day and couldn't eat nothin' 'till after dinnertime! I watched a movie and then I went to bed.  This mornin', I woke up at 4:30 and couldn't sleep but felt just fine.  I didn't even stop to think that maybe I just felt good 'cause of the medicine I had eaten.  So I went to school.  At the beginnin' of my first class, I felt fine.  "It's strange," I said to my friend, "I ain't even tired!"  But by the end of first period, I felt so sleepy.  I wanted to lay down on the floor and nap.  But I couldn't.  I had to go to choir.  In choir, the teacher makes us stand up and sit down and such.  I felt like a zombie, standin' and sittin' with my eyes half closed.  The next class was worse.  I went to math feelin' like I was gonna fall over.  I did my work but could barely keep my eyes open.  At last, it was lunchtime.
               At lunch, while all my friends were talkin' and eatin' and laughin', I sat there eatin' and lookin' off into the distance.  My eyes wouldn't open all the way and my mouth just wasn't workin'.  Next was Spanish.  Now, I'd like to see a genius try to speak a different language as tired as I was!  I just hoped that the teacher wouldn't call on me.  I was afeared of what kind of gingabagarble would come outa' my mouth if I tried to think of an answer.  P.E. I don't even remember, besides almost gettin' whacked with a volleyball durin' a game 'cause I was spacin' out.  Biology is just a blur.  Then my mom picked me up and made me chick'n noodle stew.  Then I had two creamsickles to stop the pain in my throat. 
               Now I'm 'bout to get ready to sleep.  Havn't decided if I'm gonna go to school tomorrow, or if I ain't gonna.  If I have got a fever, then I won't go.  But if I don't then I will.  It's just so hard to miss school and have to make up all of my work!  Oh, well, if I'm sick I don't want to make my friends sick!  We'll see. 

Writing about Writing

               I like to write about things that aren't real.  When I was too young to hold a pencil, too young to type with my chubby fingers, I would sit down at the kitchen table and draw.  I would create magical worlds where made up creatures dwelled.  I conjured up a realm in the clouds, and Mushroom Land, where tiny fairies lived in fungi.  I would spend hours on each intricate detail, making sure everything was perfectly colored.  After each land was brought to life by my colored pencils, I would make up stories about the creatures who resided there.  Sometimes, my friends and I would recreate my fantasy realms in our basements.  We used cardboard for ships, and blankets and chairs for palaces.  I still remember when my brother and I stashed every single food item in our pantry and refrigerator under the piano so we could pretend we were elves who were entering a famine.  My mom was not pleased, but there was something so exciting about pretending we were other people from another time and place.
               When I got old enough to write, I would make up tales about my fantasy worlds.  I like to just sit down and write, not being held back by the confines of reality.  My favorite writing piece I've created is a story about a snow fairy that I wrote when I was ten.  At that age, I was just learning how to draw a reader in with delicious words and beautiful imagery.  The story was about a fairy who resided in a lush green forest and brought flowers back to life.  In the story, I described the way the air felt on the fairy's cheek, and how the snow sparkled on Christmas morning.  Reading the story now brings back my excitement at being able to create something so beautiful.  Writing has always been an exciting actvity for me, but I enjoy it so much more when I can create and describe worlds that nobody has ever heard of before.
               If I have a bad day, I like to create stories in which everything goes right.  Making up places where everyone is happy helps me calm down after a hard day.  I hope to get better at writing this year and improve my ability to create imagery that takes readers to fantasy realms and made up lands.

Wuthering Heights

               In all honesty, Wuthering Heights is definitely not my favorite book.  There are so many confusing character names that it is hard to keep them straight.  Also, when I read, I can tell that my mind wanders a bit.  There are parts, however, that fascinate me.  I love the sections when Lockwood reads Catherine's diaries.  It is like he is entering a different world, resurfacing back into reality after he has learned a little more about the mysterious woman.  The diary parts are like a book within a novel.  I can relate to his curiosity.  If I found a collection of journals in an old house, I wouldn't be able to stop reading.  It is so interesting how his reading induces related dreams.  His dreams are fascinating because the reader can't tell how much of the dream is true and how much is just part of a made up nightmare. 
               The setting of the story really contributes to the main storyline.  Wuthering Heights  is set in the 1800s.  The area in which Heathcliff lives adds a mysterious, eerie feeling to the overall mood.  Because the setting creates the world in which characters make decisions, the chilling setting adds to the plot as well.  Without the moors, Lockwood would never have had to travel a long way through deserted land in a snowstorm.  If the story was set in a different place, it would be drastically changed.
               A few halloweens ago, I checked out a collection of ghost stories called Bone Chillers at the library.  Looking back, those stories relate to Wuthering Heights more than anything I've ever read.  I think that the main similarity is the foreboding feeling I get when I read them.
               When I read Bone Chillers, there was a piece of artwork accompanying each story.  The style of the drawings really conveyed the creepiness of the story to come.  They were pretty abstract.   Despite the ambiquity, each picture told a lot about the story.  They also could be interpreted differently by each person and somehow displayed the themes in artwork as well.  I think it would be fun to create one of these drawings as my project.  It would be interesting to see what people thought of it!
 

Extending the Theme

               I hate change.  If a friend calls at the last minute to make plans, I decline.  When the weatherman reports sunshine and it rains unexpectedly,  I have a bad day.  I am stuck in my ways.  To Kill a Mockingbird really spoke to me in one main way.  Society was unable to reexamine things.  They simply did things the way they had been done for years.  The people of Maycomb, like me, didn't welcome change.
             
               Every day, smart people around the world are reopening, questioning, and reassessing important theories and rules.  That is what should have happened in To Kill a Mockingbird.  Instead, society simply followed the unwritten, unjustified rule that black people were not to be trusted.  Tom Robinson was convicted simply because people were unable to welcome modification of ideas. 
              
               After reading To Kill a Mockingbird, I realized that to grow, people need to rethink things and renew themselves.  In my life, my stubborn decisions don't mean life or death for an innocent person; but they hold me back.  Spontaneity and the ability to question yourself are what make a strong person.  I now know that things needed to change in To Kill a Mockingbird in order for justice to be served, and that change in regular life is important.
              

My Boo Radley

               My Boo Radley entered my life three summers ago.  It was a hot summer day, and a lady I didn't recognize knocked on my door.  My mom opened the door.  I listened to their conversation from the alcove in the kitchen where I can conveniently spy without being seen.  The woman's name was Elizabeth, and her mother had Alzheimer's disease.  Elizabeth explained that she lived far away, and was worried about her mom, K's health.  She wanted to make sure she was getting a balanced meal at night.  I wasn't sure where I came in; but I soon found out.  I was to walk over on Sunday nights and heat up dinner in the microwave.  It was that easy.  She was going to pay me, too.  I was excited to meet this woman, but I was also confused.  At 11, I had no idea why a person could be physically unable to press three buttons on a microwave oven.  I assumed that the woman was probably just frail, and didn't like to leave her chair.  That was exactly the case at first.  I walked over every Sunday and had fantastic conversations with a witty, cheerful old woman.  Having young grandparents, it was fun and interesting to be able to talk to someone who was older than anyone I had known before.  We became friends and we talked a lot.  She knew so much.  Over time, however, things changed.
               It began with changes that went almost unnoticed.  She would misplace things, or try to eat soup with a fork.  These were things that we could laugh about together, but would catch in my mind and worry me.  Later, we would play games.  She would always win.  My worries would then be assuaged, and I would forget about the odd happenings that had caused me alarm.  As her Alzheimer's Disease progressed, things went downhill too quickly.  She couldn't think of words, and her sentences were left unfinished.  She would get frustrated and break down, angry at herself for not being able to think clearly.  She had to wear Depends, which embarrased her.  She even forgot people's names.  She always remembered me, but she probably couldn't have told me what I was called.  All of these things reminded me that I was losing my friend to a disease.  I wish I would have enjoyed that time, for the worst was yet to come. 
               About nine months after K was diagnosed with Alzheimer's, her daughter called me and asked that check on K more often.  She was no longer capable of taking care of herself.  Only in the almost constant company of others was she able to remain in her own home.  I began walking there almost every day to make her dinner or visit.  I knew that those were the a few of the last days that she would be able to communicate.  We could no longer play games, because she never remembered how.  Stories were difficult, for she lost her train of thought halfway through.   Most days, we sat and watched the ocean together.  I think that she loved that.  She didn't have to feel pressured to speak, but she could enjoy being with other people.
               11 months after her diagnosis, K began to scare me.  I went to her house every day, and every day something was eerily wrong.  She was usually in her pajamas late in the day, staring at a wall.  Sometimes, she would have frozen, smiling expressions on her face that reminded me of a malevolent clown.  Once, I let myself into her house and found the kitchen filled with thick smoke.  I began frantically fanning and pouring water on the stove, which was on fire.  A charred, microwavable meal was smoking on the stove burner.  I put out the fire and then looked around for K.  I finally saw her sitting in a chair, trying to call 911 on the TV remote.
               I stopped wanting to go over there.  It was creepy, and I did not like it.  Her whole house smelled like urine, and she said things that didn't make sense.  She would tell me that she was talking to her long-deceased mother; and would force me to talk to her, too.  My own mother was having to make me go to K's when I was supposed to.  I hated to go, and sometimes I would cry.  I didn't like to see my friend like that, and going over to her house made me feel sad and terrified at the same time.  I didn't understand how someone so lively could transform into a person so vapid.  She was losing her memories, and I didn't understand why. 
               K moved to an assisted living facility when she became too dependant on others to live at home.  I write to her every month.  She probably has no idea who I am or why I write, but I don't care.  I did a project on Alzheimer's disease, and I now understand what was happening to her.  Many diseases can kill, but Alzheimer's is the worst.  Alzheimer's disease blocks neuron communication, causing loss of memory.  It contorts and ruins your mind, then kills you.  Patients die after having been humiliated without even knowing what is happening.  They die alone and scared.  I hope that people find a cure one day.

               I am so lucky to have met such a wonderful person who has shaped my childhood so dramatically.  This experience is similar to Scout's because her experience included mystery and fear, but also realization that what she feared wasn't frightening at all.  
 


              
 

English Blog: Introduction

               I'm Grace, and I am excited to start my blog despite distraction.  At this moment, I am trying to type while simultaneously being whacked on the head with a flag and drawn on by a chubby hand holding a purple marker.  I am babysitting.  I will be the type of busy blogger who will post from my phone on the way to a Cross-country meet, or log on between second and third period to finish an assignment before rushing to math.  I am always doing something.  Trying to post on this blog before assignments are due will be interesting.  Take today, for instance.  Before I am finished writing this, my head will probably swell to the size of a watermelon; and I will be completely and totally purple.
               I think that this blog and English class in general will set us all up for success in life.  Not only is english needed for every single job in this country, it is needed by people who don't work at all.  When having conversations with friends, nobody wants to be the person who can't speak correct English.  English is the most important class, and it is required by every four year school.  It is critical that students speak English well, because every single subject is built off of the language.  Even if someone is a mathematical or scientific genius, they can't get out of English.  How would someone explain an answer or a scientific discovery if they didn't speak our language?  They couldn't.
               Anyone following my blog should expect to hear about the assignment we are currently working on in class, learn a little about me, and discover what I like about english.  Hopefully, keeping a blog will help me become a better writer and will be a breath of fresh air after finishing usual assignments.  I am looking forward to seeing what a blog is all about!