Summertime Sadness

I've been looking at old blogs. Or trying to at least...  I'm assuming the others are blocked off to stop the incoming juniors from cheating, but the 2012-13 year is still open for some reason. I don't know why, but I'm kind of glad it was... and I spent the last 3 hours reading their old blog posts. It's been helping me adjust to the idea of being a senior, especially because I recognize all of their names and I think, "Shannon was a scared junior/senior, and she's fine and happy at UCLA! And Kirsten's at CSULB, and she seems pretty happy when she comes home every day!" The farewell post helped the most. I don't want to accept rejection before I even apply, but lately, all I can think about is how even if I don't go to an Ivy League or even a UC, my life will go on at a Cal State or community. I can still do good things, and good things can still happen to me. I think that's something we should all keep in mind as senior year comes up and we get caught up in all of our AP classes and extracurriculars and college apps and I'm gonna stop now. I'll miss you guys, but I'll see you in August. Until then, stay awesome!

Reality

                             Reality

Laughter and screams coming from children are heard all through the neighborhood. They kick and punch the air around them saving the world from the evil Dr. Nightmare. Just as the kids were about to defeat their nemesis, their game was abruptly interrupted from their mother's call for dinner. Whining after being brought back to reality, they quickly said their goodbyes as they head home. One of the kid’s home is merely a few feet away from where they nearly saved the world. The child heads towards home but struggles to open the door that is being held together by a loosely screwed door hinge. As the door is finally opened the child is hit with the cool breeze and smell of wet concrete after a day of rain .The room was bare two beds, a refrigerator, and table that held a dim light that gave the room a yellowish tint.  It was hard to imagine that someone called this home but it was mine. I spent seven years of my life living in a garage where most people parked their cars and stored away old memories.  

Calling the garage “home” always felt normal. It had the utilities a typical home would have but it lacked certain qualities, however I didn’t feel there was anything of great significance   missing. My mother worked hard for everything we had, almost making it seem as if we weren’t struggling at all. We would go to plays, ballets and amusement parks. The places made us forget of all the troubles we faced. We used to say that we were the richest poor people you would ever meet.  

But when we went back home we had to face our reality. We were surrounded by the violence of street gangs, forcing me to wake up at five thirty in the morning so I could escape the schools nearby.  My private school was located an hour and thirty minutes away, that was my mother’s attempt to have me receive a better education than most children in my neighborhood received. It was evident on my way to school on why we commuted for so long. Every morning we witnessed the loud sirens and homeless people on every street corner but as we came closer to my school we were surrounded by huge houses and manicured lawns.  

 

School was another place I could escape reality. It was where I could blend in. No one knew what I had or what I didn’t have. I was always proud of where I came from, however I was terrified of being judged by my friends on what my home looked like.  I know now that the  sacrifices my mother made allowed me to take piano lessons and to attend private school.  

Looking back at my home I see every inch of sacrifice my mother made from the two beds, the table, and eventually the mahogany piano that sat in the corner.  It has taught me that there is beauty in everything,  that nothing is given to you it is earned. I am grateful for all the opportunities and the hardships my mother and I faced. Without them we would not have the the life we have today.

Personal Statement: What is truth?

      People live their lives bound by what they accept as true. From the moment we come into this world, our perception of reality is distorted by the environment we come from. But as time goes on we each start to develop our own idea of truth and what is true to us. But what exactly does it mean to be true? Truth is defined as the quality or state of being true. Facts exist, which many of us can agree are true. However, the essence of the truth is not factual, it's intuitive and subjunctive meaning it exists in the mind and is not an object. 

      We as human beings all come to formulate our own essential truths. These are all vague concepts however because each person has their own idea of what truth is. So which one of us is correct? Are all of realities just false preconceptions? Does that mean we all live in an illusion cast upon us by our own individual beliefs or is there some divine authority that governs what truth is? This question makes me ponder as to what truth means to me. The answer to this question is intangible and always changing. Therefore I can't really give an answer to what truth is because of the endless sea of explanations. If I had to give an answer to what truth is I would say that truth is simply the negation of falsehood.

AF: Yo, Seniors

Hi Kids:

I have writing homework tonight; plus, I promised to get whatever assignments teachers have given me up on the summer homework blog (that's my project).  Plus, this is my last opportunity to get Period 5 notebooks looked at and returned to students before summer, AND I have to write some kind of sub plan for 5th period (7:30-9:30 am), and guess what? It is Grapes of Wrath, the movie.  I have a crush on young Henry Fonda in this movie, who plays Tom Joad.

If you have work for me, there is a basket in my room set aside for that purpose.  It is obvious and easy to find.  I will pick it up tomorrow after I get back from the writing institute.

As far as all of the rest of the work I will look at -- I have asked for and received an extension.  Report cards will be run on Monday, so I have this weekend to get grades entered.  Everybody is pretty darn close to where they will ultimately end up, anyway -- as I think I mentioned the other day in 2nd period, the two assignments I want to look at pretty closely are the two synthesis essays, which are "performance" grades.  The quality of your writing has to be the deciding factor when you are between grades (D to C, C to B, B to A). Everything else (lit circles, personal statements, some timed writes from early spring) builds your "participation" grade, which is very helpful.

Thank you for your hard work and general academic awesomeness this year, and thank you especially for your sweet personalities.  You can pick up your portfolios up from me in the fall, or by appointment this summer.  

Email me with any issues, and keep in touch!  Don't forget about Mayfair Reads!

My World (Personal Statement)

     Where do I come from? The short answer in a family of four living in Southern California, but the long answer is a little different. My lineage is interwoven. Don’t worry my parents aren’t cousins. My family tree is interwoven because my maternal and paternal sides are from the same small town in Mexico, so the interweaving began many generations ago. But what makes my case special is that my grandfathers were best friends back in Mexico before my parents were even born. My grandparents all knew each other very well and all made the move to California at about the same time. Once in California my paternal grandfather was the first to find work, and then he helped my maternal grandfather get a job at the same place. They both worked hard and were able to get better paying jobs, better houses, and so on.  So from this point on the families remained in contact, but not as close as before. At this point my parents grew up essentially separate from each other, and then would later fall in love when they “met” as teenagers.          
       
My family is literally one huge one. I mean I have double aunts and everything. So what that means to me is that we are a lot closer than most. This means that as a young scholar there are more loving faces encouraging you to do your best and then sometimes congratulating you with money when you do well, which is not expected but is very nice to receive. With this tight-knit family I have more fans, and this makes me want to show all of them what I can do.      

My family is full of hard workers. My paternal grandfather, Humberto, is still working even though he could have retired about 12 years ago. My father, Ricardo, frequently skips lunch or worker overtime to make sure the job gets done, and when he’s not at work he’s fixing up our house or the house of a family member or family friend. I could go on and on really, but I won’t because Hispanic names get hard to spell. Anyways, you can see, working hard comes natural to me.. The good thing about my family is that because working hard is natural to us, we don’t feel pressured to do it. For example, my parents never needed to tell my sister and I to do our homework because we just did it. We knew it had to be done so we did it. My parents never told me I need to go to college, but I am applying because I know that I need to go in order to get the job I want. I want to work in a hospital. I want to be a part of the administrative/secretarial section and  preferably pediatrics. I say pediatrics because after seeing my baby cousin, who not only was premature but also has Down Syndrome and a heart problem, in and out of the hospital since birth, I just want to help sick babies and children.                              

The world I come from is one of love and encouragement and togetherness. It is a world where you always feel at home when you stay at a relatives house. It is a world where everyone always notices your hard work and effort gets noticed. It is a world  that has shaped me into the person I am today. It is my world.

Personal Statement

Looking Up

            While standing with my friends, there’s an obvious difference between them and I. I stand between two people where I fill up the spot next to them to just about below their shoulder, with air filling up the rest of the empty space between them. These two people and others standing around them have no problem being comfortable looking at each other, while I on the other hand, have to uncomfortably and constantly look up because most people are taller than I am. 

I’m short. I stand at about 4 feet 10 inches tall, which is about the average height of a 12 year old. My height is a pain to live with when most things in the world are made for average sized people. It’s difficult for me to buy clothing, since they are always longer than I am, so I have to spend time hemming it or looking for something else. My friends constantly use me as an arm rest or accidentally hit me in the face with their elbow. I have to take twice as many strides and go twice the speed when walking with my friends. There have been many times when I’m at a restaurant with my family and the waiter or waitress asks if I need a child’s menu, and I awkwardly tell them that I don’t, since I’m 17.

To me, the worst thing that probably happens is when my friends or people that have known me for a while, randomly comment about my height or make jokes about it. I find it fine when people say once or twice to me, “Aww, you’re so short. How tall are you?”, or when I join them in making fun of me. However, more than once has someone (mostly my friends) randomly mention my height or start joking about it. Sometimes we’re just having a normal conversation when someone randomly goes “You’re so short.” My normal response is that “I already know,” but on the inside I’m more irritated than what I actually show. 

Usually, people would think that because I’m short that I’m super sweet and innocent, but I can be the complete opposite of what people would expect out of me. There are people that meet me for the first time thinking that they can take advantage of me, but I express my true personality that my short stature does not show.

I have gotten used to the fact that people are going to mention my height no matter what, and I just smile and laugh with people when they realize how short I am. On the plus side I can pay less for a movie ticket if I say I’m a child. I have more leg space in cars and planes than other people. It is easier for me to move through large crowds and to fit in spaces that would be too cramped for others. Though my neck hurts looking up all the time, I’m content with my view of the world.

Personal Statement

A Work of Art

        Everyone has that one special talent they are so very proud of; I am an artist. Art has been my passion since I figured out how to use a pencil. I remember the first time I picked up a pink crayon and a notepad and drew a squiggle. I was so proud of that little pink, curvy line printed on the big piece of note paper. As my ability to write improved my art did too. I went from drawing squiggly lines to V shaped birds in the blue sky to self portraits in a sketchpad.

        Art has always been a way for me to escape and express my feelings. When words can’t speak, art can. A piece of artwork can have many meanings to many different people. A blue spot splattered on a blank canvas can either mean sadness or how we are all one small part of this big world. Most people do not understand this form of art because it is abstract, but abstract art has the most meaning behind it. This brings me back to my first pink squiggle on that notepad; at the time that squiggle meant nothing, but now it may represent the struggles to success in life.

        Art has never been seen as a huge career to my father and older sister. They believe it will bring little significance to my life or maybe even nothing. No matter how much they remind me about how art is not so important, I never gave it up.

        Art has become a huge part of my high school career. In high school I attended a four year art program that helped me learn different types of art and its history behind it. High school has always been a struggle between keeping my grades high and my art strong. I always had my mom and best friend there to support me when I felt like art was just a mistake.

        During my freshman year I went through family problems and it was hard for me to focus on my studies, but I never let my grades go low enough for me to fail. During this time I felt as if my art wasn’t good enough and I didn’t feel the same passion I did for it when I started drawing. I felt like art was simply work and a grade and I couldn’t find the joy in it anymore. Sometimes I even completely gave up and stopped trying just because I couldn’t fix my mistakes. Instead of completely letting art go I had a good friend that helped me on my feet. This friend wasn’t a normal teenager; in fact she wasn’t a teenager, but my counselor. Even though it was her job to sit and listen to me, she helped guide me back to myself. After freshman year my passion for art grew again and it’s still growing. I understand that art is a job and it can be work, but no one ever said you cannot have fun while working.

        My dream is to become an animator and illustrator—especially for Disney and Pixar. I was always moved by animated movies and their graphics. I remember when I was a little girl I’d watch Finding Nemo and Monster Inc. and admire the way the characters were drawn and animated. As I grew older I began Disney Pixar studies by drawing characters from Tangled and Frozen. I drew the characters in different poses and with different expressions. I kept drawing these characters until I progressed and they looked exactly like Disney Pixar’s style.

       Everyone has their own style of art; my style is cartoony with a flare of realism. It took me a few years to find my certain kind of style, but my art teachers helped me develop it with their projects. I worked with many different resources because of them and I slowly mastered them all. However, I still struggle with some things like painting, but I don’t let that stop me from completing my work and making it look amazing. With my high school art classes I learned to work with graphite, paint, prisma color, charcoal, and more. I’ve even done many projects that involved different styles. My favorite project I’ve done so far involved working with coffee grounds. Our assignment was to create a face with a mustache made of out organic objects—I earned an A and it was my best work all junior year. 

        No matter what happens in my life, art will always be a main part of it. I’ll never give up on my dream on becoming an animator and illustrator. And maybe one day people will see my work on the big screen.  

Eileen Colon