Foreword for Box Full of Fears

    This writing project has been one of the easier ones for me. I think it was easy for all the creativity to flow out because it was from the heart and something we all go through. Everyone has to grow up at some point (as much as I wish I could go back). Its time for a change. The season of growing up is among us whether we like it, or not.

I think one of the harder things about doing this project was deciding on a topic. There's so much that we can all agree that we're going through at this time. But although there are many positive things going on, there can also be some negative. Like, losing friends/ boyfriends, going to new school etc. But something I realized by making a list of fears is that there's a lot to be worried about. Not to sound pessimistic because I do believe there is a light at the end of this long tunnel, it just takes a while to see it.

 I came up with the title Box Full of Fears because maybe if I wrote down all the fears I've ever felt down from the times I can remember until the moment my writing utensil hits the paper in a box, the box would fill up. But, as I got older the box would have to get smaller and smaller until there was only one fear left.

Box Full of Fears: What If?

What if I never get my braces off?
What if I get huge zits?
What if I'm a loser in high school ?
What of o remain a small guppy in an ocean of great whites?

What if I fail?
What if no one believes in own keys to success?
What if I decide to give up on me?
What if my best isn't good enough?

What if I succeed?
What I all the dreams I have for myself come true?
What if my mom is proud of me?
What if I'm happy?


All I can ask is

What if?

Box Full of Fears: Diary Entry

Dear Diary,

It happened again. I had the same nightmare. It’s been the same nightmare for three nights straight.

I’m in a city, a city that I’ve never been to before. Everyone is a stranger. I’m surrounded by hundreds of thousand of clouded faces. I feel cold, afraid and alone. I try to yell out for help but no hear my plea. I was alone in the city of clouded faces. No one acknowledged my plea. It was like being in a sound proof bubble- shut in from the outer world. I was afraid of being in a new place where no one could help me. I was afraid of the thought of being forever trapped inside the bubble. I learned something from this nightmare- I need the confidence to be on my own. Help?

Sincerely,

  Kamillah

Box Full of Fears: Writing Prompt What am I afraid of?? (list)

.I'm afraid of into a life that I didn't want for myself.- I feel like I've been really lucky to be presented with numerous opportunities that could set a future that I really want for myself. I just wouldn't want to do something reckless that could jeopardize my future.


. I'm afraid I won't be able to balance everything that I have going on in my life- It's already a balancing act between School, Friend, Home a Social Life and importantly, yourself. It's easy to let everything get out of control but I wouldn't be happy that way.


- Sometimes I think I forget that I'm important too- I find myself constantly being pulled in various directions and I forget the things I do to make me happy.

Reading Response

      As an adolescent girl who is growing into a mature teenager, I'm sure girls like me can agree that we change a lot, from when we're transitioning from middle school into high school. We change how we interact with others our clothing etc. But most improtantly, we change how we voice ourselves to others. The book Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson is an example of that. Mel is a teenage girl who was raped when she went to a party with her friends. She didn't tell anyone up until a year later. This shows me that in time, no matter how difficult of a time you are going/ went through it's important to speak up.

     In the beginng of the book, Mel really kept to herself in entering highschool. She didnt talk to any of her old friends because they hated her for calling the cops at the party last summer. The only gorl who really talked to her was Heather. Heather was new in town and needed someone to show her the ropes, and she needed Mel. When Heather tried to introduce Mel to her other new friends they all turned away. I think Mel really should've spole up and developed her voice again. This is from the book: " You're the one who got my brother fired. You Bitch"  She pulled my hair when I sat in the bleacher in front of her. I didn't say anything. I was on mute.

      Towards the middle of the book, Mel still wasn't talking only it seems that her vow of silence made everything else worse for the world. She remained non talkative with anyone besides Heather. She never really showed any kind of emotion was when she was doing art. She showed passion and admirance to displaying how she saw things in life on paper with assistance from a pencil. But she finally started to ask herself: "Was I raped?" That moment in the book, was her 'aha' moment almost because she was finally being honest enough with herself to realizee that she was raped and she needed to speak up and tell someone.

My favorite part of the book is the ending. She realizes that she has to get the message out that she was raped but in her own way. So she used the power of her words. She realized that her ex- bestfriend began to date the same guy who raped her, but her bestfriend didn't believe her so she wrote about him along the bathroom walls. Mel says, "It felt good to know that I wasn't alone". By the end of the book, everyone knows that Mel was raped because her rapist tried to raped her again in the janitor's closet; luckily someone was there to hear her voice.

As you can see, it's very important to SPEAK your mind out loud so that your voice is heard. When your voice isnt heard when you need to speak your mind you may lose you voice until  yourconfident enough to bring it back up again.

Writing Prompt #3: Who was I? Who am I? Who do I want to be?

Who was I?
I was a little girl growing up in the city of Brooklyn. I loved school my friends and my mom. I would've considered myself a happy kid. I grew with my grandmother and my cousins in my life a lot. And I didn't have much to complain about. The meaning of life was simple- Have fun.

Who am I?
I am a young lady who is growing up. I'm going to a new school next year with no one I know. But I guess
it's time for new experiences.of her middle school years. I'm a teenage girl who is at the end  I'm a teenage girl who wants to remain in contact with the people she loves and cares about no matter how far life takes me. I am a teenage girl who doesn't have a plan too mapped out for the future, not now at least. I am a teenage girl who's about to experience a whole new part the world- high school.

Who do I want to be??

I want to be a woman that my family is proud of. I want to be a woman  who does what will make herself happy. I want to a woman who learns from hert mistakes and understands that life is like a maze with twists, turns and dead ends. But you keep trying until you're done.

Writing Prompt #2: What is Rebellion?

Rebellion (according to Webster) means defiance against any authority. I think rebellion during my generation is when teens learn to say 'no' and think about what they want as young people to think for themselves. Rebellion is wwhen teens stick up for what they believe and stop 'going with the flow' when it comes to authority. Rebellion  is one os the best ways to adapt to being independent. You're thinking for yourself, to yourself, by yourself. There for rebellion is necessary

Writing Prompt: What am I afraid of?

     I'm afraid of not growing up ti have the life my mom/ family wants for me.
I feel like its a blanacing act. I have to balance:
-School
-Friends
-Home
- A social life
-Love
-And importantly yourself..
 Sometimes I think I forget that I'm important too. I just try to make my
small part of the world happy. Recently, the world I call my own feels like
it's dissovling in front of me.

I'm 14. My mother's my fortress. But I'm realizing that she can't
 protect me from everything. I'm afraid of losing balance and just
becoming lost. Afraid that things like heart ache will get to me.
I'm heart broken to see my grandmother..97 years old. In a hospital
bed. Breathing for the support of an oxygen tank. Slowly but surely her mind,
her memory and her everything is slowly trickeling away.

Another person who gets me through it all or got me through it all
I thought I could come to her with any and everything. She is too far
to be my 'shoulder to lean on' so to speak.

I'm afraid of not becoming the best version of myself

Moral of the story: It's time to grow up, and sometimes youy have to do it on your own

Final Reading Response

    

When you're a little kid, life's your personal amusement park; A fairy tale almost. Its full of rides, face painting, good food and everything you love. When you're a kid, you love the tricks and secretes of this 'amusment park' called life. Nothing in life is bad or wrong-when you're a kid at least. But as you mature into a teen, life's less like an amusement park and begins to lose it's fairy tale sparkle. The poem 'My Papa's Waltz' by Theodore Rothke is a prime example of finding fun or childish ways in a dark and not so friendly situation.

     The poem is viewed at 2 sides. Neither side can be proven wrong. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. NO ONE IS RIGHT OR WRONG. One side of the poem is that its merely a child having fun with his father. He had  a hard day of work so he had a drink to 'relax'. When you're 'relaxed' you have more fun in some cases then when you're tense. The line The hand that held my wrist Was battered on one knuckle; At every step you missed My right ear scraped a buckle. I think that shows he was being abused. When a father usually is holding his child, he wouldn't hold him by the wrist, it would be by the hand. And his knuckle was probably battered from ' romping' around in the kitchen.It could just be viewed as having a good time.

     The other side is more realistic. I think it's about being abused blindly or being in denial about who you love or how they treat you. I think because he's a kid he can find how they 'play' to be unique or not like everyone else. But it's not all that great. Sometimes when you're abused especially by someone you love. You can be blinded and accept what they put you through because you love them.

     I think this poem relates to the real world because more times than less do people find themselves in situations where they let a bad thing go on for too long because of love for another (the mothers possible perspective). But I think your love for another should never be more important than the love you have for yourself. The mother could've been putting her son AND herself in serious danger if the boys father had a drinking problem

     But overall I think the poem is classic because at some point in life someone knows another person who can understand this. Its also a thought provoking and highly debatable piece of writing. No one will ever for sure know what was the message behind My Papa's Waltz; all you can do is wonder

The whiskey on your breath
Could make a small boy dizzy;
But I hung on like death:
Such waltzing was not easy.

We romped until the pans
Slid from the kitchen shelf;
My mother's countenance
Could not unfrown itself.

The hand that held my wrist
Was battered on one knuckle;
At every step you missed
My right ear scraped a buckle.

You beat time on my head
With a palm caked hard by dirt,
Then waltzed me off to bed
Still clinging to your shirt.

My Papa's Waltz, Final Readin Response

    
When you're a little kid, life's your personal amusment park; A fairy tale almost. Its full of rides, face painting, good food and everything you love. When you're a kid, you love the tricks and secerets of this 'amusment park' called life. Nothing in life is bad or wrong-when you're a kid at least. But as you mature into a teen, life's less like an amusment park and begins to lose it's fairy tale sparkle. The poem 'My Papa's Waltz' by Theodore Rothke is a prime example of finding fun or childish ways in a dark and not so friendly situation.

     The poem is veiwed at 2 sides. Neither side can be proven wrong. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. NO ONE IS RIGHT OR WRONG. One side of the poem is that its meerley a child having fun with his father. He had  a hard day of work so he had a drink to 'relax'. When you're 'relaxed' you have more fun in some cases then when you're tense. The line The hand that held my wrist Was battered on one knuckle; At every step you missed My right ear scraped a buckle. I think that shows he was being abused. When a father usually is holding his child, he wouldnt hold him by the wrist, it would be by the hand. And his knuckle was probably batered from ' romping' around in the kitchen.It could just be veiwed as having a good time.

     The other side is more realistic. I think it's about being abused blindly or being in denial about who you love or how they treat you. I think because he's a kid he can find how they 'play' to be unique or not like everyone else. But it's not all that great. Sometimes when you're abused especially by someone you love. You can be blinded and accept what they put you through because you love them.

But overall I think the poem is classic.


The whiskey on your breath
Could make a small boy dizzy;
But I hung on like death:
Such waltzing was not easy.

We romped until the pans
Slid from the kitchen shelf;
My mother's countenance
Could not unfrown itself.

The hand that held my wrist
Was battered on one knuckle;
At every step you missed
My right ear scraped a buckle.

You beat time on my head
With a palm caked hard by dirt,
Then waltzed me off to bed
Still clinging to your shirt.

Cudos To 3 more Bloggers.

     First I really love reading Nurshat's blog. She put's a lot of emotion and feeling into her posts. Especially her poetry. Also her Reading Responses are stractured really well and they are almost reccomendations for books I would like to read in the future. CUDOS TO YOU NURSHAT!

     Second, Emma Rougerie. I really like how her response to the Incident poem was relevant to how people treat each other today. Plus I think she's the kind of poet you could only aspire to be as good as one day. Her sonnets can be good guide lines for me to make my sonnets in the future better. CUDOS TO YOU EMMA!

And last but most definetly not least Learsi. I really really love all her poetry. Her poems are special and they seem like they have a special place in her heart. I like how she writes about her own life and turns it into magical poetry. CUDOS TO YOU LEARSI!!

But everyone blogs in their own special way, these are just a few people who stand out to me.

My Papa's Waltz (Reading Response Revised)

     When you're a little kid, life's your personal amusment park. Its full of rides, face painting, good food and everything you love. When you're a kid, you love the tricks and secerets of this 'amusment park' called life. Nothing in life is bad or wrong, when you're a kid at least. But as you mature into a teen, life's less like an amusment park and loses some of it's wonder and sparkle. The poem 'My Papa's Waltz' by Theodore Rothke is a prime example of finding fun or beauty from everything.

     The poem is veiwed at 2 sides. Neither side can be proven wrong. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. NO ONE IS RIGHT OR WRONG. One side of the poem is that its meerley a child having fun with his father. He had  a hard day of work so he had a drink to 'relax'. When you're 'relaxed' you have more fun in some cases then when you're tense. It could just be veiwed as having a good time.

     The other side. (cough cough My side) is more realistics. I think it's about being abused blindly or being in denial about who you love or how they treat you. I think because he's a kid he can find how they 'play' to be unique or not like everyone else. But it's not all that great. Sometimes when you're abused especially by someone you love. You can be blinded and accept what they put you through because you love them.

But overall I think the poem is classic.

Reading Response

     I'm Reading the book Fly on the Wall by E. Lockhart. The book is mainly about a girl named Gretchen Yee. She's a plain fish in a pond full of tons of vibrant and exotic fish. She doesn't seem to be fitting in. Her parents are getting divorced, her only friend Katya is drifting off into her family life and latching onto other friends. A simpler way to her: Lost in a big blue sea. The only way she's happy is when her pen hits the paper to draw her precious comics. She's always wanted to know what it would be like to e a fly on the wall in the boys locker room. Things go for a turn when Gretchen when she actually turns into a fly and listens in on the conversations in the boys locker room.

     Her life feels like acomic book. The setting is Manhattan High School for ther Arts (Ma-Ha for short). There are the Art Rats who are boys and can't always be immature but still have artistic talent. There's the love intrest, Tits the "greek god". And then there's the unlikely hero who only wants answers. What goes on in the boys locker room and what goes on in the mind of a boy. Gretchen hasnt gotten the best luck with boys and all she wants is answers.

     I think that people can relate to the characters in the book. especially students who attend an art school and are surrounded by talented people people all the time (cough, cough like me) Some people can at least find one character that is like someone you know. Whether its the cooky but awesome teacher or the shy kid that you've always wanted to talk to but never had enough courage. Its all relateable.
    
     I also like the idea of being a fly on the wall. Well if I was a fly on the wall, I don't think I would want to be in the boys locker room. The thought of being a fly on th e wall kind of reminds me of what it would be like in the mind of someone else. To veiw the world in the eyes of another.

Over all I think the book is a very good book. Its a good thing to read if you have recently read something challenging or if you just want something a little light and not-so-serious to read. Fly on the Wall by E. Lockhart is the book for you.

Response To My Papa's Waltz

      When you're a little kid, life's your personal amusment park. Its full of rides, face painting, good food and everything you love. When you're a kid, you love the tricks and secerets of this 'amusment park' called life. Nothing in life is bad or wrong, when you're a kid at least. But as you mature into a teen, life's less like an amusment park and loses some of it's wonder and sparkle. The poem 'My Papa's Waltz' by Theodore Rothke is a prime example of finding fun or beauty from everything.

     The poem is veiwed at 2 sides. Neither side can be proven wrong. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. NO ONE IS RIGHT OR WRONG. One side of the poem is that its meerley a child having fun with his father. He had  a hard day of work so he had a drink to 'relax'. When you're 'relaxed' you have more fun in some cases then when you're tense. It could just be veiwed as having a good time.

     The other side. (cough cough My side) is more realistics. I think it's about being abused blindly or being in denial about who you love or how they treat you. I think because he's a kid he can find how they 'play' to be unique or not like everyone else. But it's not all that great. Sometimes when you're abused especially by someone you love. You can be blinded and accept what they put you through because you love them.

But overall I think the poem is classic.

Cudos to Three Good Blogs.

     Whenever I post on my blog, I try to make post that are some of my best pieces of writing work. Some of my fellow peers post really good blog in my opinion. I try to innovate my own blog posts to be something worth reading like theirs with out totally copying their writing techniques.

     First, Isaiah Nardone from 810. I think his blog posts are very attention-gabbing and just good. He's an awesome writer especially his poetry and his response to poems. I think they're real and honest opinions. I think his poem 'Seizure' is SUPER amazing. It's just dark and there's almost a bit or freedom as a reader to interpret what he means by his poems. Also his interpretation on the paintings was highly organized and mature and informational.

Second, Amani El-Hindi from 810. I think her posts are homey and comforting in a way. She has a way on how her blog is structured and what she posts its universally relateable. She puts up pictures from her life, which is a good way to make you blog your own. She has a talent for expressing her opinions on any to everything. There isnt one paticular piece of work that she has posted that i can say is my favorite. Sha has so many to choose from.

Finally Isabella Risus (I'm sure I spelled that wrong I apologize), I think her posts ae straight to the point. No beating around the bush and I think thier kinda cute in a way

Still Not Free

The Negro is still not free
The Negro
sadly crippled by
the manacles of
segregation.

They sing
of a promise.
That would be
guarenteed
life,liberty
and the
pursuit of happiness.

The time to lift our nation is
now.
To lift our nation to
the solid rock of
brother hood.

To lift our nation
from the state of
sweltering injustice
to an oasis of freedom and justice.


I have a dream

Problems from Yesterday ( Rhyming Poem)

The sun shines, and smuthers my face.
The pores in my face let the sunlight leak in
The problems from earlier today simply erase.
This is how I like my day to begin


You're there with our friends sitting around
We laugh , smile dance and sing,
My problems from yesterday are left on the ground
The is how I like my day to begin

My Torn Heart

My world shattered.
Dreams crushed.
Left alone forever
Untouched.

' I love you' you tell me
That's what you say.
But when your hands hit me
I don't feel this way.

' Don't tell anyone' is what you say
All I can do is bow my head in shame and
turn the other way.

I'm better with you gone.
I have never felt so strong.
I did the right thing even though
my heart is still
torn.

The Kiss (Poem to Photo)

The Kiss was a long time ago.
Yet I still get the chills when I see him.

The Kiss was quick and in the midst
of madness around us.
Yet he was only thing that mattered at that point.


The Kiss.
Our Kiss.
Was all it took for me to fall for him

The Kiss,
Our Kiss is what kept me
in love with him
to this day.

Starry Night (reading response)

     The poem , Starry Night by Anne Sexton was really confusing the first time I read it. I wasn't sure how to feel about the poem or even how to think about it. After a couple more times of reading the poem it actually seemed more beautiful to me. Like a fantasy almost.

Oberservation: The first thing I noticed was the excerpt from Vincent Van Goh in the letter to his brother. The second thing i noticed was repetetion of the line 'Oh Starry starry night! This is how I want to die'. Before she would use that line, she would describe parts of the picture. The only stanza that didn't use the line 'Oh, Starry starry night! This is how i want to die' is the final stanza.

Inference: I think she wrote the poem to ecknowledge the beauty of The Starry Night. The town itself isn't that important to her its mainly the stars.

Interpretation: I think she included the excerpt to show how important drawing the stars was to Van goh. It was almost as if painting and being an artisi was his religion. Different people practice their religions different ways. For example, Christians go to church. I think being an artist was Van gohs religion was being an artist; he practiced his religion was to draw the stars.thought she wrote the poem to describe her anticipation for a peaceful death. I thought she didnt want to kill her self but wanted to let her time come on her own, and when it did, she would have the vision of the starry night.


HOWEVER, I thought all of this before Ms.Galang told me and the class she actually did end up killing herself. But still, I hope she saw her Starry Night.

Art Interpretation.

      The Kiss was a photograph taken by Robert Diosneau by the Hotel de Ville which is in Paris, France in 1950.
 Observation: As soon as I look at the photograph, my eyes are instantly drawn to the man and woman kissing in the center of the picture. I can observe that its a black and white photograph. The clothes everyone is wearing are kind of old fashioned. Everyone around the two people kissing are out of focus and the man and woman kissing are the only ones who are still.

Inference: I can guess what the man and woman are a couple. They may be 'hi' or 'bye' to eachother. Or maybe they were just kissing in the moment. I think Diosneau may have been sitting when he took the shot due to the angle of the picture. I can definetly infer Diosneau didn't think his photo 'The Kiss' would still be such a succsess.

Interprtation: I personally love this photograph. I like how classic and timeless it is. Its a photograph that is universally admired. The simplicity is amazing. I think it seems like they're the only two people in the world and that's all that matters.