Family of Little Feet
“The Family of Little Feet” by Sandra Cisnero is a bildungsroman. The main characters Esperanza, Rachel, and Lucy have been given new adult women’s shoes. They try on the shoes “We laugh at Rachel’s one foot with a girl’s grey sock and a lady’s high heel (41)”. This shows that the girls are Transitioning between childhood and adulthood, they are old enough to fit in the shoes but still young enough to wear girls socks. It’s this transition they are realizing. Therefore when they get attention for looking like an adult woman they are taken back. “On the avenue a boy on a homemade bicycle calls out: Ladies lead me to heaven”(41)”. From what the boy is saying the girls realize that the boy is referring to them as grown women and he thinks they are attractive. The attention though is something the girls are not used to and this shows a loss of innocence. More so, when the girls have fully noticed that people see then as women and not little girls anymore the girls feel another trait of Bildunsroman. “We are tired of being beautiful” (42). The girls are feeling nostalgia because they want to be young again and not have the attention they got. The girls fully realize that they are becoming women that people will notice more. So thats why its a coming of age story.
Analytical Paragraph
Sigmund Freud theories of behavior in terms of the ID, ego, super can be applied to Tu Pacs song “Dear mama”. Tu Pac explains he was breaking the laws and fell into the wrong crowd . “I was a fool with tha big boys breaking all the rules”. This represents ego in acknowledging that he was a fool and how he regrets his actions. It also shows ID when he was breaking the rules and doing what he wanted to do. Therefore, Tu Pac explains that Id caused his mom to show Super ego. “Running from the police, that’s right mama catch me put a whoop’en to my backside. Illustrating TuPacs Id, which is running from the police and breaking the rules. HIs mama must demonstrate Superego in disabling her child because that is the social norms. Finally, TuPac is realizing and highlighting his mothers hard work and comes to tell her she is appreciated. “I finally understand for a woman it ain’t easy –trying to raise a man. Ya always waz committed — Theres not a way I can pay ya back but tha plan is ta show ya that I understand. You are appreciated.” All of this truly highlights ego in TuPac apperation of his mother and her hard work. He learned how much his mother sacrificed for him and now if he wants something he he will learn to do it in a way that doesn’t harm his mother.
The absolutely true diary of a part time Indian
The absolutely true diary of a part time indian is by Sherman Alexie and the wonderful art by Ellen fornay. For the sake of this blog I’m shortening the title to “Diary of a part time indian”
This book is set in 2006, in a Native american reserve. It is told through the point of view of a 14yr old boy named Junior (or Arnold ) who switched to a all white school for a better education. He faces racism, betrayal, realization, and tragedy but goes through it all with humor and hope.
I like to keep things honest, The Diary of a part time Indian was a great book. But the cover did not intrigue or interest me. It was simple and plain and the authors name was bigger than the actual title. I was reading his book not him. This was the reason I did an original cover to better suit the book.
The reason I chose to read this was because, I have native american relatives who lived on an reserves so I was curious about what was happening in the book. Also while I flipped through the pages I saw drawings showing what was happening in the narrators life. I really enjoyed the humor he showed through his drawings even when bad things were happening, his art always had a hint of humor.
When I started to read the book, immediately I could connect with a multitude of characters. I sometimes saw myself in the narrators view of his family and his own understanding of them, but also the lines like “What’s wrong with you? He yelled. “EVERYTHING!” Rowdy yelled back. I felt like Rowdy sometimes too. Each character felt so real you had no problems finding connects as you read.
When I was more into the book I saw alcoholism was a main problem in the reservation. First Junior plays it off as something there, but you soon see the tragedies that take place because of the alcohol and what its doing to Juniors family and the other familys in the reservation. “Plenty of Drunk Indians have killed other drunk Indians”. It becomes such a huge thing and you see Junior start to become depressed and sag under the weight it causes. I think when the story reaches it climax you really see the strength Junior has and the love and hope his community shows even through the face of grief. I really enjoyed how he wrote all of this, showing the narrators struggle but always keeping that gleam of humor and hope in his dairy. It made it sad, but enjoyable.
Now that I finished it, I’m really glad I bought it. Its a definite reread. The story takes you through so much of Juniors life and you really become connected to him. It was a great story for someone who wants to get into the mind of a teenage boy, but also for anyone who ever wondered about Native American culture, the more REAL culture, and the struggles they face to this day. It is also a good story to read if you are interested in a boy going to a new school and having to make a place for himself. Overall it had so many parts and themes to enjoy it made it a good book overall.
My earlier pargraph mentioned how good of a book it is. Because it is so good OVERALL. Saying that, I wouldnt suggest it to someone who wants to read a complete tragedie with nothing but heartbeak. This book is funny, and heartwarming and goofy. I would suggest it if you are okay with REAL topics. “And the tribe of chronic masturbators”
To close, “the diary of a part time Indian” is funny, raw, real, sad, embarrassing, but overall hopeful. I would recommend it to almost anyone and I want to share my favorite quote from the book. ” In the middle of a crazy and drunk life, you have to hang on to the good and sober moment tightly”
Bacteria: Superbugs Passion project
I, Daniela, worked on a grade level activity. The activity was the mass infection of my classmates to see how many students would be infected during the epidemic of a superbug, that was with blue, red cards. Then I worked on a PSA, public service announcement. And I filmed and edited the PSA.
From my failures I learned not to take too much on at one time, and make smaller goals over a period time. It is easy to try to take everything on your shoulders but you feel so overwhelmed that you become stressed and gets nothing done.
I found success in the spreading of my message. I hope people learn from the grade level activity the importance of being hygienicand being conscious the enviroment. That was only at school though but from the PSA I was hoping to hit a larger audience about being safe and taking time to be safe. I hope generally everyone is benefiting.
My project is mostly complete, but my next steps are publishing the PSA so it can the public and hopfully everyone benefiting from it. Then go on to new projects and contuining to come up with random cool ideas.
The final
My own little spark
Always sparks a bond fire,
I savor my ideas and sarcasm, some sassing myself some sassing a larger system. Proud I was able to come up with a original poem, until its time to look back.
Then my little spark gives me an idea, a thought, a passion
And like the wind I’m gone, fascinating with my own ideas, adding and adding.
To finish my great my work, make it all nice and neat.
Until I find it again, and that same spark ignites.
A normal moring
I wake up slowly
my body aches and screams
And my eyes wish to drift close.
I shuffle to my dining table
My body craves food
but my hands fall useless
ANd everything is so simple
Just me in the kitchen
Trying to prepare breakfast
And dreading the day
and it’s not school
nor is it work.
But the fear of the day
Because it’s the apocalypse And we are all doom.
Expectations
Rules, Rules, Rules
All these very cruel
Meant to separate and degenerate us without a fuss
In nature, is an oak tree expect to grow
Trapped in an empty room all alone
Yet here I am expected to bloom
ALL Alone to faced my doom
Trapped alone in this empty room
My poems!
I hate my poems
Far from omens
They don’t rhyme
But that’s just fine
I can’t spell
Down in my well
My topics are lame
All about the fame
Yet here i write
So here take a bite
Kates favorite brother
Kate’s Childhood Memory
By: Daniela Noonan
After spending 3 years and multiple classes periods with Kate Hall I never knew how interesting she is. How many funny, cheerful stories she has to share. With this project I got to know Kate better, hear her talk about her goals and memories. The empathy project definitely has been a interesting project that made me think in new ways, outside of math and science. And this memory with her brother is also a growing experience because I don’t have siblings and I’ve always wondered what it would be like to have a sibling. It has been great listening and writing about the inspiring Kate Hall, Now let’s read about Kate sock-bowling with her…creative older brother..
My big brother always had good ideas. I adore him for his great ideas and he always seems to be a lot smarter than me. Maybe it’s because he’s older than me, i’m glad he will always have my older brother. So one day when he said he wanted play frisbee I quickly agreed, enthralled by the prospect of this new activity. My four year self waddled after him as he gracefully hopped straight into the kitchen. Our large kitchen was open to the dining room and I saw the table sparkle. Even though our kitchen was large and beautiful it was a hideous yellow color. I plopped on the ground, wondering what a frisbee is whilst sucking on my thumb. I didn’t think we had a frisbee. While I confusedly sat on the floor, my brother reached into the colorful cabinet full of mismatched dishes and grabbed my mother’s favorite red plate. I assessed the plate. I don’t think that’s a frisbee, I thought, taking my thumb out of my mouth, but my brother threw it and I caught it. We threw it back and forth. My fingertips barely catching the plate, I laughed and threw it back. My mother however only smiled and seemed semi bored. My brother tossed the red plate too high and it shattered above me.
Red shards of broken plate, sliced into my feet. My eyes swelled with tears, red shards covered my feet, not only that my mother surely heard that crash. A nervous feeling crept into my stomach, it felt like when you didn’t do your homework and you just made eye contact with the teacher. Mother stormed in, her eyes angry as she took in the scene. She picked me up off my feet and I was relieved to know that those red slivers were just from the plate and I was okay.
My mother was usually chill and let things slide but she was very angry, and got more so when my dad got home. He was angry too; they sent my brother and I to our rooms. I didn’t like when my father was angry at me, usually he was mad at my brother; NOT ME. I almost wanted to giggle remembering just this morning when my brother didn’t make his bed and how my dad got angry. Again my brother had a good idea and convinced me to come over to his room. “ C’mon Kate, lets have some fun before we get in trouble!”
We sat and talk a little bit, until my brother again had a great idea. He grabbed a bin of socks and ran into the hallway. We were going to play a game!
From the hallway one of us will throw a sock into the kitchen, and retrieve the sock without being caught by our parents. It was like sock bowling! I again was excited at this new game and felt so edgy and rebellious.
My brother went first, throwing the sock then tiptoeing to get it back, I had to cover my mouth because I was laughing so hard. I had fun competing with him and the thrill of sneaking past my parents was so intense! By the second round we had lost count with socks surrounding us.
“ KATE, ETHAN” Our dad called his foot steps coming down the hall. My brother jumped up immediately, grabbed the sock bin and disappeared into his room. I was left in the middle hallway. I jumped up to my feet just as my dad turned the corner. He squinted his eyes, “what are you doing” His voice held suspicion but he seemed tired from work and the argument he had with mom.
“UMMM I heard you call so I came out to see what was going on” I stuttered, noticing I only had one sock on. My dad looked at me a while longer, then shrugged his shoulders. Letting my one-sockyness and stuttering words not matter to him.
He pulled my brother out of his room and together we traveled back into the kitchen. My mother stood with her arms crossed and my father had each of his hands on our shoulder.
“You’re in trouble”
In conclusion, even though Kate got into trouble she will never regret this moment/ memory. Kate will hold unto this memory along with a few others of her and her brother goofing around, like running over her brother with a tiny go-kart. She had so much fun, excitement and felt so much closer to her brother after this experience, and still trusted him even though he got her into trouble. Now as Kate and her brother are older they rarely play games like they used to and their conversations are shorter to “good morning”. She wishes that they could go back and create memories like these, but it would be weird for a 14 yr old and 17 yr old throwing socks. So all these memories are all precious to Kate. And It never occurred to me that siblings can grow apart even though they basically spent their entire life together. This has been great listening, talking, laughing with Kate and I feel so honored to write this little childhood memory, even though it was not entirely positive.
Very serene 