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Jhonas Dunakin Food Project

  • Ingredients 
  • 2 lbs fresh tuna
  • 1 lb yuca, fresh or frozen
  • 2 tbs sunflower oil
  • 2 tomatoes, diced
  • ½ red onion, diced
  • 1 teaspoon chili powder
  • 2 teaspoons ground cumin
  • 8 cups of water
  • 5 cilantro sprigs
  • Salt to taste
  • Analysis
  • Ensebollado is a typical traditional Ecuadorian dish famous for it's ability to cure hang overs. Fish is high in protein and reduces your risk of atrial fibrillation. Yucca root which is native to South America has the ability to reduce diabetes symptoms, arthritis, and contains anti oxidant properties in addition to it being delicious both boiled and fried.  
  • Personal Reflection

Diet directly correlates to the amount of diseases and disrupts normal bodily functions. Humans have evolved to eat more vegetables, less red mets, fats and sugars since their really rare in nature but we can mass produce those things. Those kinds of foods are addictive since they give humans lots of energy quickly, which would be good if we were hunting and gathering everyday. But today we have machines to do the tough jobs and we just typically sit on our couch and watch tv, so our body stores the energy for latter, which than creates obesity because of the daily consumption. Obesity can cause heart diseases, liver problems, diabetes etc. 

Our modern world is very free market and the demand is very high for foods like meat, dairy, and sugars. Companies take advantage of that and supply those things since they're very additive to humans and make huge profits because they're consumed at high quantities. High quantities of consumption of meats ruins health and changes cultures of countries that are being westernized. Also specifically in the US everything has a soy or corn ingredient because it's subsidized so heavily to stay competitive in the free market for the purpose of the use as ethanol. But it's so cheep it can be used as an ingredient in cheep foods that directly correlates to ill health. 



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Bias Police Brutally



“The police show their bias when they… ” use excessive force with a suspect if they do not follow direction when told partially towards young african american males.


In the Leon Ford Jr. incident the police officer pulled him over for a routine traffic stop. He  was  stopped for 19 minutes they demanded that he see I.d. One of the officers,  Office David Derbish, who walked onto the right side of the car began to search it. He assumed to believe that Leon was in possession of a weapon. Leon was then asked to get put the car three time.  When he did not move one of the police officers began to violently pull Leon from his vehicle. In the  moment of fear Leon drives. Officer David Derbish, who is in the car,  shot him four times in the torso & the car crashed.


Leon Ford Jr.’s attorney, Benjamin Crump, say “they hoped he would have died so he couldn’t live to tell the truth” .  Also his attorney Monte Rabner, stated “ It’s clearly police procedure that if you see a gun and you think the individual has a gun you draw your gun and asked him out of the car …. there way distant for him from the on set,  if you look at the beginning of the video just from the time he would take his license from him it was not just taken like a normal human being it was ripped from his hand.”  This says that the police already have a bias set. That because he is a young african-american male that he is a automatic suspect. There they treated him like a suspect. According to attorney Crump a normal traffic routine stop takes 7 minutes, yet Leon was pulled over for almost 20+ minutes.  “Not only he was unable to see his parents and on his death bed but he was shackled to the bed & paralyzed.” stated Attorney Rabner.


On January 7, 2013 was the coldest day since. Darrin Manning  was taking the Broad Street & Girard to play in a school  walking home from school, says Victoria Joyner, school chief executive. Manning and teammates left the subway wearing hats and scarves, provided by Victoria Joyner. According to police   A boy was sexually assaulted by a female police officer. He was walking home from school  & the officer stopped him. He was told to remove his scarf so he can be ID. A surveillance camera that caught the police officer in the act changes every 10 seconds, so it’s uncertain as to what really happened. One segment of the video shows Darrin being pushed against the car. In the another clip it shows what officer Ramsey says “ a struggle with officers”. Another segment shows Manning being surrounded by police officers. When the female police officer began to pat-down search and pulled his genitals. During the pat down the female officer grabbed Mannings testicles. She squeezed them so hard that it ruptured. He was then arrested and kept in jail for 8 hours. He was then released and taking to the hospital where he had emergency surgery. As a result he is under watch care of a doctor. As told there is a possibility that he may not be able to reproduce. Although he is the victim he is now being charged with reckless endangerment of another person, simple assault and resisting arrest.


I disagree with how the officer went about this situation because you should never put your hands on no one. My bias about this is that you shouldn’t put your hand against anyone. She should have not put her hands in his private area. That is something you are taught in first grade - third grade. You were taught that when someone touches you, you tell an adult. In this case because young Darrin  Manning was being sexually touched/assault by a police officer, someone who you are suppose to trust, is now being charged with  reckless endangerment of another person, simple assault and resisting arrest.

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Food project

Ingredients:

Light cream

Grated Cheese

Chicken

Artichokes

Pasta

Garlic

Oil

Butter

 

Directions:

Cut chicken into fourths

Heat butter and oil and garlic

add cream after a while

add grated cheese

Boil Pasta

MIX all in bowl

cook artichokes

Add them to bowl and mix

Completed

Nutrients: 

All together a serving would be up to 200 calories, it's not the healthiest foods but it's all natural, we use the freshest cream they have in the supermarket, the cheese added is only 20 calories

The artichokes we buy fresh and cut up i'm not sure the calories but it's fresh and not from a can

The chicken we get the breasts and nothing else and we get the fat out of it with a knife and we cut them into fours and and taking out the fat gets rid of 40 callers from the 100 calories from the pack so the chicken lis only 60 calories 

 

Analysis: What iv'e learned is that it doesn't matter how many callers something is to be healthy but where it comes from, i'd rather have a 200 calories home cooked meal than a 70 calorie Mc Donald's burger, because of how un natural it is and what it's made from, so even though my food is technically more un heathy, it's not because it comes from a legit place.



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Tyanna Pleasant!

Ingredients

  • 2 jars of Ragu Chunky Tomato, Garlic & Onion- 125 g
  • 1box of Barilla spaghetti noodle. 56 g
  • 1lb of Cargill ground beef
  • 3 tablespoon of minced garlic
  • 2 cups of sugar

Procedures:

  1. Start by boiling a tall pot of about 4 cups of water.
  2. Next, add the pasta to the boiling water. As you add them, break them in half. It would be easier to put them in there in sections, and not all at once when breaking them up.
  3. Meanwhile, as the noodle are getting soft inside of the boiling water, start to cook the ground beef in a pan, make sure you have the top. Chop up the beef up with a spatula so it wont burn, after about 5 mins, add the top and tend to the noodles but keep your eye on the beef so it wont burn. Keep chopping it from time to time.
  4. Check the noodles, take one out, taste it and determine if it is soft enough for you. 
  5. Once the noodles are done, check that the ground beef is all brown, you should not eat any red meat because its not cooked all the way.
  6. Drain the beef once its all done.
  7. You then mix the beef with the noodles, add the sugar, 2 jars of Ragu, and the garlic. Mix together very well so that each noodle has sauce on it! And ENJOY!

Analysis

This meal is 95% processed and each of its ingredient starts of from a raw plant or vegetable, but eventually goes through a process to get the delicious taste it has. The 5% is from the minced garlic which came from actual garlic cloves from a Farmers Market. If you ate this everyday, you could be in risk of having heart disease and diabetes. This meal gives off a lot of fat and salt from the ground beef and the sauce. Without moderation of this meal, you could get diabetes or high blood sugar. The added sugar makes this meal less nutritious. Sugar in the sauce plus the added sugar is unhealthy. 

Since most of the ingredients was commercially grown, it had a negative impact on the environment. A cow had to be killed, which decreased the CO2 it produced and let out into the air, while making the sauce, chemicals had to be sprayed on the tomatoes, then to smash the tomatoes up into a sauce like structure was most likely done by machines which released gas into the air, Im not too sure about the pasta was made, but I do not think it have a big negative impact on the environment, the making of the sugar used some type of machinery to crush it up into small grains and I don't think the garlic had a negative impact on the environment. The ingredient that may have traveled the farthest to end up in your meal is probably the sugar. Most of the U.S’s sugar comes from the Caribbean. and the tomatoes comes from California. The beef comes from different farms in Canada and the U.S. 

Overall, this meal cost $12.82 if you buy each ingredient from ShopRite. Which is not bad when comparing it to buying spaghetti when going out to a restaurant which will be about $15 dollars or up. You also will know that it is safe and you know how its being cooked and how is cooking it because you are making it at home. It is also better than going out and buying it because you can modify it yourself so that it tastes just how you want it to. 

Personal Reflection

What I learned this unit, that I do no eat as healthily as I should, and I could eat so much better. I buy a lot of the foods that are processed without even thinking about where it came from or what happened to it for it to taste so delicious. I help support these farmers who do this to these animals and spray all of the chemicals on out vegetables and fruits to make them larger. I also learned that some of the animals are being treated harshly and in live in conditions that are not suitable for their life and they are not expected to live long. The foods go through a long process and is genetically engineered to grow faster than they are supposed to naturally. I think that the biggest problem with our food system is that lots of people don't know, or think about how their food first started out as. I think because it taste so good, and it meets their expectations in food, such as a big size. Changes I could make to my food choices is to look at the food labels and remember what I learned this unit. The biggest impact of these changes on me would be, I will become healthier, it will reduce my risks of diabetes and cancers or other health deficiencies that could come later in life from eating these foods. I am willing to make some changes, but I do not think I will commit to making all of them.

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Ilker Erkut BM

Ilker Erkut

100% Percent Sure

Have you ever been in trouble with a group of friends and you know you are wrong and change the story to save yourself?  Well I have done that a good amount of times and I am going to be explaining the biases of objective truths. I know everyone has been here at one point in time where they did not want to get in trouble, so they would change what really happened so that the adult or person in charge couldn’t give punishment because they did not know who did it.  Also I have the point of view of someone telling the truth but still getting in trouble because of the other person lying.  Sometimes lying isn’t the smartest thing to do because certain people do not take the time to find the real culprit.  In the end everyone will get punished and then your strategy of using objective truth will fail.  There are many time where it is a good thing to use as well

One personal time when I had to deal with objective truth was when I was in middle school.  I remember getting into a little scuffle.  I did not start it or even really protect myself, I just wanted it to end before either of us got in trouble.  But we ended up getting caught and going to the deans office.  

“So tell me what happened”  said the dean

“___ attacked me for no reason.  I tried to get him off rather than fighting back so I did not get in trouble.  I never fought back” I said trying not to get in trouble again that year.

“Ok, lets hear your story ____” said the dean

“He said something racist to me and I was offended so I fought him” he said lying.

In the end we both got in trouble and his plan did not work.  I felt very mad because it was all very unnecessary.  But I knew either way we were going to get in trouble.  I took the punishment and we became friends a long time after that.  

I thought of this moment in my life again when I read the short story “In The Grove.” I thought it was very accurate to how many situations get played out.  If there are no witnesses than there is no case.  “Yes ... without taking his life. I had no wish to kill him. I was about to run away from the grove, leaving the woman behind in tears, when she frantically clung to my arm. In broken fragments of words, she asked that either her husband or I die. She said it was more trying than death to have her shame known to two men. She gasped out that she wanted to be the wife of whichever survived. Then a furious desire to kill him seized me.”  This quotes really spoke to me because it basically sums up my essay.  Its one of the quotes that I found in the story that came close to the topic of my story.  She made him choose whether or not to kill the husband or kill himself.  He decided to kill the man because he in the situation he did not want to die.  Also the women was not even known as a culprit in the investigation because the investigation was for her husband.  So they immediately looked at everyone else as the bad guys and her as the victim.

The main reason people lie is to not suffer the consequences of what they have done wrong.  It could be to save someone from an unwanted truth.  But most of the time its because they realize what they did was wrong and they know if they accept the punishment it will not be worth it.  Telling the truth does not always bring out the best result.  Also lying might save them from being judged.  If what you did affected someone else or a group of people than those people might judge you for it.  So why not just lie?  I even think that it is inviting and inevitable.  You almost know someone is going to change the story around to save himself.  Its ment to happen in almost every situation without a witness.  Thats when people start getting into race and stereotypes.  The spectators or people around the scene will most likely pick the person that looks like they would cause a problem.  The biases people have are towards clothes, race and language use, such as slang.  That is how a lot of people get away with things.  They act really nice and mature and trick peoples minds.  They make it seem like they are the victims.  These are some ideas of where bias gets put into play and some situations.

Have you ever been in trouble and did not want to get punished or judged because you did not realize how much drama your action would cause?  Well I have been through that a good amount of times and now you know one of my best stories.  I have also proved my point with a quote from the story that gave me the idea to write this essay. I know everyone has been here at one point in time where they did not want to get in trouble, so they would change what really happened so that the adult or person in charge couldn’t give punishment because they did not know who did it.  Also I have the point of view of someone telling the truth but still getting in trouble because of the fact that the other person lied.  Sometimes lying isn’t the smartest thing to do because certain people do not take the time to find the real culprit.  In the end everyone will get punished and then your strategy of using objective truth will fail.  There are many times where it is a good thing to use as well.  I hope that you have learned from my personal essay.  Do not judge anyone or believe anyone till you have 100% facts that you are correct.



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Crash

In today’s society, the media portrays a different perspective of a story. People often stereotype racial identity based on what media tells the public and how people of colored skin portray themselves. Based on these actions, the mindset of racial stereotypes and prejudices, one is bias and judges towards another. In the movie “Crash,” there are times where a character had to face racial stereotypes and prejudice which caused a chain reaction of bias. Racial stereotype and prejudice brainwashes the human mind into confusion between reality and their own biased opinion. 

As the movie develops in the beginning of the movie, a car accident occurred between two different racial identities, an Asian woman  and a Mexican woman. The Asian woman blamed the Mexican woman for causing the accident and claiming that it was the Mexican lady's fault. She said, "Mexicans don't know how to drive, she braked too fast." The Asian woman used her own bias opinion on how a Mexican person drives because of the way she views Mexican people. She thinks they are not able to drive. Another example on how stereotype affects her perspective is when she told the Mexican woman that, "I'll call immigration on you, look what you did to my car!" The reason why the Asian woman has this perspective is because society often jokes about Mexicans hopping over the border, which also means that they are not legal citizens and that they can be deported back to their country. This scene allows the viewer to understand how the Asian woman used her bias towards the Mexican woman based on that stereotype she has towards her. The asian lady uses this stereotype against her and accuses her of wrecking her car when really it wasn’t her fault. 

Throughout the movie, another scene occurs between the owner of the a gun shop, who is a White man and a Persian family. The daughter and father discussed whether or not they wanted the gun in their own language. The white man became impatient and he yelled, “Yo Osama!” Due to the previous terrorist attack that happened during September 11, 2001, the owner felt some type of way because the group of people that attacked America were Middle Eastern people. Knowing about the accident that happened on 9/11, the owner stereotyped them as terrorist and used the word Osama towards the father. The white man also told the family to get out of the his country because he is biased toward Middle Easterners and the effect of that changed how he viewed the Middle Eastern family. He made many references to the twin towers and the planes crashing event to make them feel guilty about the tragic event. The white man took the tragic situation and was prejudices toward the Persian family because of his frustration of what happened in 9/11 and the fact that it was caused by Middle Eastern people.

  At the climax of the movie, a scene occurred between white police officer who was off duty and a African American male hitchhiker. When the officer came across the African American male, he offered him a ride. During their ride, the African American man saw a statue in the officer’s dashboard, he realized that he had the same statute in his pocket and chuckled. This scene causes the officer to say “Is there something that’s funny?” The African American man replied, “People.. man, people.” “People like me?” the white officer replies. The white officer took it to offense based on his race. The statue represented and meant something to the officer. However, the officer thought that the African American man was mocking him because he was white. Upset about the situation the officer pulls over. The officer says “Get out now!”As this scene escalates, the the African American reaches into his pocket to show him that he has the same exact statue. However, the officer misjudged, thinking that he is pulling out a gun and the officer shoots him. This shows a stereotype between these two characters because the officer is out in the field and base on the people that he arrested, are people of color. His duty made him use his bias perspective on how he think a black person is going to act upon in that situation. Without knowing anything much about this person, he hardly thought twice before he pulled the trigger and killed an innocent person. This shows that its your brain, its your thoughts, the thoughts of judgements that leads you to unfortunate situations. 

The scene that took place in this movie is very similar to something that happened two years ago in Florida. Trayvon Martin had a hood on his head, a bag of Skittles and Arizona tea in his pockets.  A man named George Zimmerman shot him saying it was out of self defense. Trayvon Martin was an innocent teenage boy who was now dead. There are police reports about George Zimmerman saying Trayvon Martin was going for his gun. It turns out that Trayvon Martin was unarmed. This connects with the scene in the movie because George thought that Trayvon Martin had a gun and was reaching for it, so in self defense he shot him. His bias against black people made him expect Trayvon to have a gun. In police reports George Zimmerman said “They always get away.” In this quote I think that Zimmerman is being bias towards the African American community because he is referring to blacks and how they get away with crime.He is saying that blacks are the only ones who are criminals. Zimmerman was a security guard for a gated community so he probably ran into situations with other blacks which caused him to be bias towards Trayvon Martin, thinking that just because he was black, that he was like every other black person. Also, Zimmerman said and compared “Martin to someone who looked looked like a thug or criminal.” The bias that Zimmerman had towards blacks based on racial stereotype made him think that because Trayvon Martin had his hoodie on, or maybe because he was black that he was a criminal. Zimmerman was simply being prejudice towards Trayvon Martin because he was black and those racial stereotypes got into his head which caused him to judge someone innocent.  

Racial stereotype and prejudice brainwashes the human mind into confusion between reality and their own biased opinion. People are not fully aware of what racial stereotypes and prejudices can do. It can change one’s perspective on someone and quickly judge them. These are some of the worlds most common mistakes repeated everyday by everyone.  

Sources: 

http://abcnews.go.com/US/trayvon-martin-shooter-teenager-gun/story?id=16000239 http://truth-out.org/opinion/item/18064-up-to-no-good-the-racial-profiling-of-trayvon-martin-abdulrahman-awlaki

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Wounds of Waziristan

Huzaifah Malik

Wounds of Waziristan

He dragged himself through the doors. Waqas threw his bookbag on the floor, and slumped his throbbing body onto his Charpai (a traditional bed made out of wood and woven rope). As he heard the slow whirling noise of the fan above him, Waqas began pondering about how difficult his life had become.

Waqas moved to the other side of the room, and sat on the cold mud floor. His mind was overwhelmed as he thought about his life and the life of the rich people. His thoughts started to drift to two years ago, good discipline throughout the 6th and 7th grade. But gradually everything changed. He took a deep breath, and leaned his head against the wall with closed eyes, trying to fight the flashbacks. His paralyzed father and his feeble mother. Waqas stood on his toes as the floor was too cold for his bare feet.

He went to his courtyard, and started plucking some red juicy apples. His cold and numb body was softened as he felt the warmth of the sun. Suddenly, he heard a whirring sound and saw a weird kind of thing flying in the air which threw fire in the direction of his house. He shivered and fell down, he groaned. The houses shook, the dust flew, and the ground trembled. There was smoke and debris everywhere. Everyone was crying and screaming, asking “Why do these drone attacks kill our people.” He was hit from behind and wounded. Everyone knew that there would be a second strike. He tried to get up, but he fell down right there, and thought he was dying “I am dying, save me!!”

He collapsed on the ground as he felt the shocking pain. Screeching and groaning with agony, he squirmed about on the ground, clutching his body. The strong pain engulfed him and his pain came out in rasps. It was a calamity for him. He vaguely heard somebody but he could not reach them.  

After a couple of hours, a brawny man heard his pain and rushed towards his bed in the hospital. He bent down over Waqas and tried to converse with him.

“How do you feel right now?” said the man.

Waqas tried to open his mouth, but was unable to utter a single word. He checked his bandaged legs and said slowly, “Your back and legs were hurt, God has kept you alive.” Waqas wanted to ask something about his legs but he could not speak, some words seemed to be stuck on his palate. The brawny man had moved to another bed to see the other victims who were also harmed by the dreadful drone strike. Waqas noticed a little boy with blood-soaked bandages on his legs and arms, who was laid on a bed next to him and a ventilator machine was connected to his nose. There was also an old man in the room.

Were these real people or just ghosts? Waqas was unable to figure it out. Suddenly, Waqas sensed a rough touch on his face. The old man was bending over him. His face was etched with wrinkles and his cheeks were sunken in. His caresses were coarse, but they were reviving him as rain drops freshened the dead and dried land.

“Where were you?” he asked him.
“I was in the courtyard plucking some apples when the plane, which hovered in the sky threw out hellish fire.”

“And where is my family? My mom, dad, two little sisters, and a brother…” said Waqas.

“Rescuers only found you breathing.”

Deep shudders grasped Waqas’s torn body. The old man clasped his shivering body in his skinny arms. After couple of minutes, it seemed perpetual, he released him from his grasp, and sat on the edge of the bed.

“My mom used to console me and I would forget my worries. I used to discuss all of my problems with her. Now who is going to wipe my tears. She was like as the saying goes, like a treasure of prayers.”, said Waqas

“I had a tall son just like you. He had studied at Cadet School. We were going to a graveyard to bury my uncle’s son. His car was hit by a missile. I found his body parts and charred clothes,” stated the old man. “Now everyone says that we are vicious! People are independently-minded! Never believe these words. We don’t control our destinies. The small hills illuminated by the full moonlight, the echoes of birds tweeting in the valleys, and the cherish noises of rain spreading coziness in the air are no longer ours.” said the old man.

“Why aren’t we independent?, Waqas asked.

“My small village is nearby, Miran Shah in North Waziristan. When the Afghan war started, the government needed our help to fight with strapping forces on the other side of the border. Money was poured out to recruit agents. Paved roads and bridges were built all over to connect impassable areas. Power grids were installed to buy the loyalty of people. Our houses were filled with smuggled things: refrigerators, TVs, tobacco, blankets, minerals, weapons, and even food.” said the old man. Deep throated sounds of gut wrenching pain, emitted by Waqas, broke their conversation. A few minutes later, the old man continued.

“Ah...it was all fake. It changed our society, but in a negative way. Very few people became wealthy, and a corrupt/criminal economy was created. They didn’t see the other side. Education institutes were not built to educate our kids and no factories were established to employ our young men, so they remained engaged in the felonious arms of such business, making and smuggling both goods and drugs.”

“Who brought these drones into our land?” asked Waqas, while looking at the boy with blood-soaked bandages on his head and legs.

“My dear son, war in our land is as traitorous as passes in our dusty mountains. As the moon goes through many different phases, so does this war. These drones came into our skies when a superpower of the world began fighting with certain militants in our land. But these little robots can’t differentiate between us and them, between our schools and their hiding places, and between our houses and their chambers. Our blood has been shed and we are called fanatics. We know that the judiciary system is available all over the world to provide justice for the people like us. We are helpless and uneducated therefore we have no voice.” said the old man.

“How will this war end in our country? asked Waqas.

“By telling kids like you to fight for your own right; by getting knowledge, by cleaning our land of evil elements that have turned us into scoundrel. My son, believe me when I tell you that we have been fighting for a long time, but not scoundrel. We could differentiate between righteousness and evilness, between light and darkness. Now, my dear son, we need that peace and happiness. They have wrecked havoc on our lives and happiness. We must rise from the ashes.”
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I Am Who I Am


“I don’t know what I should do.”

“Maybe you should just tell her…Telling the truth always work.”

“I can’t. She won’t look at me the same, Candice.”

“Listen, if you love her, you need to tell her. It’s better to tell her now so neither of you guys get hurt, Sean.

I can’t accept this. I know who I am, and this is not who I am. My girlfriend…Well my fiancé will expose me if I tell her. My mother seems proud that I finally found someone. But I’m not happy. I can’t be with someone who I’m not in love with. My name is Sean, and I am a 25 year old gay man and no one knows. I don’t like too say that I am gay because that’s not who I want to be. I love women, but I can’t find them appealing as I do with men. The only person who knows this is Candice. Candice is my best friend, and has been since college. I can’t accept who I am for multiple reasons. One being that I feel like I am doing something wrong. I know that I am doing something because when I watch television, there’s always someone judging someone who isn't heterosexual. Therefore, I too am being judged. Secondly, the places I’ve been and the environment that I grew up in do not accept gay men. All throughout my adolescent years, I went to a Christian school. I was taught that being gay was an abomination to God. Lastly, it goes against all my beliefs and I know that my parents would be highly disappointed in me. My father looks at me with so much pride in his eyes. I am the oldest of three boys. He told me that I am the example. I know my mother wouldn’t mind too much, but she would be upset that I’m not following God’s law.

“Yeah, you’re right Candy, but I know it’s not the time.”

“When is it ever the right time, Sean?”

“…Uhm is that a trick question?” We laughed

“You’re an asshole, but I gotta go. See you at work tomorrow.”

I love Candice. I think she’s the only person that I really can depend on. She loves me without a shadow of a doubt. She’s been there for me since day one. When I first came out to her, she was shocked, but excited. She told me that she always wanted a gay best friend. Surprisingly I wasn’t even offended by her comment.

“Candice, can I tell you something?”

“Yeah. Shoot.”

“What if I told you that I was gay...?”

“I would be excited! Are you?”

“Yes, I mean sort of...”

“Why do you say sort of?”

“Nevermind...”

That was freshman year of college. I couldn't believe I had finally told someone. I couldn’t even believe that I had told someone that I had only known for about four months.  was something about her that said I could trust her. She was so sweet, but yet so feisty. I loved that about her.

“Good Morning Adam!” I said as I walked into the office.

“Hello, Sean.”  He said with a chuckle and a wink.

Adam. Adam is my co-worker. He’s gay. Most of the people I work with are anti-gay. Adam was not one of them. If anything, Adam embraced who he was. I envied that, but it also made me attracted to him.  

“How’s life?”

“It’s good. Same old, same old.”

I was really thinking shitty as usual, but I wouldn't tell him that. You see, most of the people that I know that are gay are judged. If not by family, by society. No one seems to care or think that they, I mean we, too have feelings. Especially, my boss. His name is Aaron.

“Sean, In my office. Now.”

“Here I come, Sir.” I was nervous as I walked into his office.

“So...Can I have your work phone, please.

I couldn’t understand why he needed to see it, but I gave it to him anyway.

“Did you know that the messages you receive come to our database?”

“No...”

“Of course you didn’t. I’ve been looking through the computer and I saw a message that peaked my interest.”

“And what was that?” I said.

“Here you read it aloud for me.” He handed me the phone

“‘Hey you little gay bird lol’”

“Can you read the reply?”

I felt the tears in the back of my eyes. They were seconds from running down my cheeks. I knew this was coming, but I didn’t know that day would come so soon.

“I’m not reading anything else. Do you have a problem?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. You’re fired.”

“Why?”

“You’ve been late several times, and we don’t need you anymore.” He coughed out.

“Is that you’re way of saying it’s because I’m gay?”

I didn’t even mean for that to come out, but it did. Shit, I was proud of myself.

“...That’s not what I said.”

“You didn’t have to.” I said.

As I started to walk out his office, I heard him mumble, “Faggot.” Did he really just say that. The next thing I remember was me flipping over his desk. He deserved it. I didn’t notice all the attention, but I do remember the nest thing that came out of my mouth.

“I’m not a faggot, but I’ll say that I am a gay man.”

All heads turned. The two faces that caught my attention was Adam’s. He looked happy. Relieved to be exact. His face said the he always knew. The other’s was my fiance. She had a look of shame on her face. I didn’t want her to find out that way, but I couldn’t help myself.

Later on that day, I invited my fiance over. When I told her as to why I went along with the engagement, she was really calm about it. I could tell ther I had hurt her feelings, but I could also see that she was happy for me.

“I’m really sorry, Hun.”

“I still care about you, Sean. I’m really glad that you’re happy now.”

“I really appreciate that you care.”

After she left, I started to reflect on myself. I realized that it doesn't matter what others think about me. I have to live with myself. Everyone’s not going to have their own minds. I know that there will always be people who can’t accept who I am. Yeah, I may be jobless, but I’m happy. After all, that is what gay means right?
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Pigs Don't Whine


The sweat from her palms had seeped through the cheap, blue nylon. She’d been clenching the bunched cloth for a good ten minutes, her hands tensed and prepared. Every muscle along her forearms was flexed, and they all stood at odds to each other, as if each one was attempting to flee a sinking vessel. Perspiration gathered in tiny domes along the planes of her vanilla skin, and trickled in tiny rivulets down the muscular ridges. I remember one drop, which had pooled in the crevasse of her inner elbow, magnifying a dense cluster of her characteristic freckles. I was transfixed with that dot, that miniscule refugee from a body convinced that in the next several seconds, it might die. There was no simple explanation for that bead of moisture. It was more than the product of the searing, sweltering heat. It was not simply some biological response to the adrenaline, pounding through her mind and surging through her veins. There was something vile about it.

As if lubricated by that same perspiration, Anne’s eyes slid to her watch. The glowing digits flicked away, counting down towards zero. That was Anne. Everything in order, everything in its place. Flying in was a nightmare with this amateur drill sergeant. This had always been her idea, spreading the word. The idea had never needed a proposition, and the entire club had been talking circles around it before she finally brought it up. A flight to Kabul International Airport. An anxious night spent in a cramped hotel room. A rented Jeep outside a mosque, just after noon. A burqa. No tops. It really was any college feminist’s ideal spring break. Of course, it had all seemed so distant from the somewhat-dank futon couches of the air-conditioned lounge space under Werther’s Hall. It had never been real. This was crushingly, indisputably, impossibly real.

Just as the gravity of our situation permeated my mind, the LEDs in Anne’s watch fluttered into dormancy in a flash of milliseconds. I closed my eyes. As if from awfully far away, the Adhan snaked its way out of a speaker system that had clearly stood through a few presidencies. Deprived of vision and bolstered by a semester of creative writing courses, my mind went to work. In the dark, I could see those ancient words, dancing forth from ancient places, inviting everyone around into God’s arms. They smelled like camel sweat and felt like sand.

“It’s so whiny.” Dani sighed from the front seat.

Anne glanced at her, away from the growing crowd of congregants. “Whining is the sound that chauvinistic, discriminating pigs make.”

Pigs don’t even whine.

Continuing with her mismatched agricultural allegory, she gave me my queue “I think enough sheep have gathered. Time to blow some minds.” I nodded, and despite any misgivings, I tugged the canopy draped over the ribs of the Jeep free. With desert sunlight blanketing our naked chests, we stood. I raise a sign, Dalia raised a megaphone to her lips and Anne raised the burqa. Worshippers turned, agape. Eyes widened and a cry of shock competed with the farsi message crackling through the megaphone. “The burqa is discrimination! The burqa is bigotry! Women are humans too! Respect for all humans! End the oppression of the burqa!”

She tore the burqa then. With a giant, terrible, scratching sound, Anne tore it down the middle. First a hushed pause, then outrage. Like hyenas they sprang on us. With dull, reverberating thuds rocks collided with the Jeep and with our skin. Some shattered, some fell. We fell to our knees and car jumped forwards.

The car swerves and I see a tiny dome of scarlet pooling in Anne’s vanilla elbow. She swipes it away with the strip of blue cloth she still clenches, “Those dirty fucking pigs cut me!”  


***


We’d been back for four days and the campus was abuzz with word of our trip. Anne’s smugness was validated by a congratulatory article in the local paper, and the adoration of everyone in the Human Rights department. I’d dismissed my doubts as little more than momentary apprehension, and was content to live the liberal arts school dream. On today’s agenda, situated between Studies in Lesbian writing and Social Action and the Academic Essay, sat an interview with a local riot grrrl zine called FemNow. I’d never pick one of those publications up, but I’d certainly tell you I had if you asked. We sat, waiting for our interviewer in a small room off of the library. Minutes passed. Anne checked her watch. Dalia and Dani joked about a recent lecture. I picked at a scab on my elbow. Suddenly there were five of us in the room.

Her back was straight and her eyes were harsh. Shrouded in endless black fabric, the rest was a mystery.

Anne was quick to her feet, “Is this a joke? We protest the burqa and you come to interview us in one?”

“No,” the stranger retorted, “you are the joke, if you can spend thousands of dollars on airfare to protest something you can’t even recognize.” She gestured to herself, “This is a niqab, and you are a closed-minded bigot.”

I began to consider that perhaps the interview was a ruse. If it was, Anne was yet to catch on. Her eyes narrowed. I could see that she would regret whatever she was about to say. Anne had spent so long perfecting the art of feminism. It was, to be perfectly honest, all that any of us really knew about her. “How dare you wear that and claim to be a feminist? You are a slave to the oppression of men!”

“How do you claim to be a feminist? How can you stand there and assume that I am some subservient wench? Every day I choose to wear this, because this is how I choose to associate. No one is forcing me, and no one is controlling me. I am not brainwashed or ignorant, simply because I chose this garment over another. You are narrow-minded and ignorant, not me. You are brainwashed into accepting biased views and prejudice, not me.”

There was a hushed pause. Her gaze shifted from one of us to the other. With an air of premeditated determination, she drew a copy of our article out of her sleeve. Beads of perspiration glistened on her wrist. Her eyes met Anne’s, and with a shattering, decisive motion she tore it down the middle. Before the shreds of literature fell to the ground, she was gone.

Anne turned to gather her bags, “What a fucking pig.”

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Frida Khalo

Hola, mi nombre es Frida Khalo. Caso con Diego Rivera. Soy una artista y pinto muchos pinturas. Nacio en Casa Azul. 
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Music To My Ears

Music; we all know what it is and I'm sure that it most likely plays a big role in your life as well as it does to mine. The way I look at it is, if you have a specific genre or type of music that you like, then you are normal! Everybody should have their own taste in everything, and no matter what you like to listen to you are no different than anybody else. However your opinion on this topic may be biased, and you have to be wary of this. Independence only sprouts from realization.

I haven't always felt this way. Until I had an eye opening experience the summer before I made it to high school. My best friend at the time, Steve, was meeting me at the spot where we always met. “Yo Angelo!”, Steve greeted me with a weird look, one by which I could tell that something was up. “Hey man.”, I simply replied. From then on that hot summer day was a game changer to me. As we walked around the neighborhood I offered to put some tunes on. He agreed as usual. This is where the red flag went up. Normally Steve and I would jam out to the same type of music, rock, but that day just had to be different. I put on a song that we both liked, and Steve wasn't happy with it. “Angelo you definitely need some diversity in your music taste.” Those ten words hit me hard, that moment was when I realized I had a bias. A bias toward rock n’ roll.

Although, a short while after that, I found myself talking to Steve less and less, and it made me wonder. “Is my bias so strong, that it could tear friendships apart?” Deep stuff, but I decided that since it was my personality and that I might as well leave it alone, and go with the flow.

I’m not the only one with a music bias though. A while back when I would go to concerts like all the time. I was in line at the TLA (Theatre of Living Arts) waiting for admission into a rock concert. When the person behind me began to play some music. Hip Hop, Rap, R&B whatever you wanna call it. I did not like it. Neither did my friends, who turned around and asked the guy, “Why are you even in line for this concert if you're listening to rap?” The man just looked at us in disbelief. That’s when I realized. Even if we’re in line for a Pierce the Veil concert, people are allowed to listen to whatever they want to. Wherever they are. No matter what anybody has to say about it. I also realized there, that without hesitation I would have said the same thing to that man.

Music or no music we're all still human. And if you think about it we're not that different. Most of us just like to be different sometimes, and that usually involves bias. Just like Steve when he told me that I needed some diversity in my music taste. Either the people around you or somebody that you are close with will usually point it out to you.  Every single one of us has to realize that if you have an opinion on something, like I do with Music, it sometimes is better to just not say anything. Or at least think about what you're going to say before you say it.

After finding out and realizing that I had a bias, I decided to see if there was any other biases that I was hiding. I found one taking the Gender Science I.A.T. test directly from Harvard University. I learned that I am slightly biased toward men over females. Now that I know this, I can better plan ahead for someones else’s bias and mine colliding in an unorderly fashion. The more knowledge you pertain about your own bias, the better.


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Jamekea's Food Project

Pasta Salad

Recipe:

Ingredients:

Rotini Noodles, 1 red pepper, 1 yello pepper, broccoli, salad seasoning, italian dressing, Parmesan cheese, salt and pepper.

Directions:

Step 1: boil water for 20 mins
Step 2: prep vegetables; dice red and yellow peppers
Step 3: add rotini noddles into water
Step 4: cover pot for 20 or until rotini noodles are fully cooked; check occasionally
Step 5: boil another pot of water with broccoli for 5-10 mins; broccoli should not be fully cooked
Step 6: turn off pot with rotini noodles once fully cooked
Step 7: pour noodles into  mixing bowl
Step 8: turn off pot with broccoli
Step 9: add broccoli into mixing bowl with rotini noodles
Step 10: add diced red and yellow peppers into mixing bowl; stir it all together
Step 11: add Italian dressing
Step 12: sparkle Parmesan cheese on top
Step 13: sparkle salad seasoning on top
Step 14: put top on mixing bowl
Step 15: Shake mixing bowl
Step 16: sit in refrigerator until cool
Step 17: serve

Analysis:

All the ingredients in my dish is healthy and good for you. I used fresh products and made the whole dish from scratch so that way I knew what was going in it. This dish isn't necessarily organic because I used rotini pasta noodles however the vegetables I used are. The red and yellow peppers and broccoli was made natural without any harsh chemicals. This dish is something I really like but since some people like to put crab meat in it, which I'm allergic to I wanted to make it my own by not adding crab meat. Plus crab meat really isn't organic and healthy. And this is a really popular dish in my family. 



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During this course I learn more than I was expecting to learn. This was a really interesting class and I enjoyed it a lot. In this class I learned what my larger role in the food system was, how a baby’s brain develops, neuroscience about criminals, etc. I wan’t expecting to learn how a baby’s brain develops or the effects nutrition and nurture has on a person for their lifetime. I learned that I have a huge role to play in the food system because I’m the one eating the food and I eat what I eat eats, which was something I didn’t really think about before. It got me thinking about changing the way I ate but then again at the same type I didn’t really find another wrong with the way I eat. Since we all are going to die anyways there’s no need to really try to eat better.

During the course of the class, I had some ups and downs and I got frustrated at times because I didn’t understand what was going on. However I was to overcome the obstacles I had and fall back into flow with the rest of the class. I ending up doing all good both quarters and I have the grades to prove it. This was one of the best classes I’ve ever had, it was interesting and thought provoking. 

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Corrupt Government

A tiny hand of a small kid knocked at the car window. Raj was busy talking on his cell phone. Her little round face was covered by her disheveled grimy hair. Her shaky body moved in a huge shabby sweatshirt twice her size. She tried to stand on her toes because the ground seemed to be too cold for her little naked feet. While Raj was busy on his cell phone. The chilly and gusty wind started piercing into her skin. She scraped her head and knocked again, staring at Raj in the car.

Suddenly Raj glared at her. He was sitting in a warm car, windows sealed, attired in a thick coat and reddish hat. His eyes gazed at her cold body, but he stayed still as if he was lost in something. She open her mouth and started narrating the story of her sick mother. Raj turned his face to his right side as if something great was happening there. Her tiny frostbitten cold feet ran quickly towards the other side. She started knocking on the other side of the car. She raised her dusty palm for some money. She was trying her best to grab Raj’s attention and he noticed it.

Raj avoided her and left even his heart denied it. This was the first time he drove through this part of Mumbai. This was very a shocking and unexpected experience for him.

As soon as he parked his car, Raj went straight to his room, threw the keys to the table and shoved his body onto the bed. Raj found himself in the combination of sadness, confusion, foolishness and guilt.

Raj had always been around rich, happy and educated people and expected the world to be similar. His history teacher taught him the great deeds of warriors and freedom fighters. He also learned how beautiful India is, naturally, and other good features, that made him proud to be a citizen of such a great country.

Now he wondered why didn’t he learned about the type of people whom he met today? It was not that Raj did not know there were poor people in world, but, his definition of poor was distant from what he just witnessed.

He turned on the lights and opened his shiny laptop. He googled “Poverty in Mumbai Statistics” and found that over 70% of people live in slums. They have limited access to education, clean water, and electricity. He found out that over 42% of children suffer from malnutrition and over 700,000 indians die from diarrhea each year. He felt really bad and started to compare his luxurious life with poor life. He was so astonished with the statistics and the facts. He imagined how would it be like, to be in a position of those poor people. How helpless he would be, and what kinds of troubles he would have been through. Raj knew that the government already gave budget to solve this problem to ministers, but he didn’t know that the politican were corrupt. He found himself wasting the money which was seized from those poor peoples. He felt very guilty and disgraceful for using money of people who need it more than i do.

 Although Raj knew he was not responsible for this issue, he found himself feeling guilty for not knowing about the issue. He was more angry with himself than with those people who didn’t want him to know about the other part of world. He could not imagine being in the position of that little girl. He could not just take, how rich he is for granted. He slammed his room door and headed toward his father with a load of guilt and questions.

Mr. Malhotra had never seen his son this angry. He had always kept his son happy by providing for him not just what he need, but whatever he wanted.

Mr. Malhotra asked, what is wrong with you?

Raj said, Nothing, expecting his dad to feel bad.

Before Mr. Malhotra opened his mouth, Raj started to talk about the girl he met on the way. How much misery she was in, and how desperately she needed help.

Raj said, shame on you and all the other politicians who spend national wealth on their personal luxuries rather than helping people who are dying because of starvation, weather, diseases and lack of shelter. My friends often told me how corrupt our government is and how bad the politicians are, but i never believed them because i thought you guys were trying to solve the problem.

Why don’t you guys spend money building shelters and schools for poor children, instead of having conferences about next propaganda in parliament. You guys have ignored that problem for so long, that people do not have any hope to get out of their miserable and unbearable life. You guys have been so hypocritical  that no one believes the speech you preached. Congratulation!!! you guys are now national idiots. Every T.V channel has a program that makes fun of your promises and speeches.

Mr. Malhotra signaled Raj to stop, but he continued.

Raj said, Would it be wrong to consider you guys poppets of rich people, businessmen and…… gangsters. I hope not because your property is made up of corruption and black money, rather than the money earned honestly. Should i be proud of you for destroying your motherland, taking lives of thousand of peoples, taking morsels from the mouths of poor little kids.

Raj took the statistics from his pocket and explained everything to his father. He demanded his father to use the budget to help the people in slum and Mr.. Malhotra didn’t seemed much concerned about it.

Raj said, “I have all the proof of you guys spending the budget money in your personal expenses. If you don’t use the remaining money in helping people in slum, than I’ll expose you guys in media.” Mr. Malhotra was speechless and Raj angrily left the house.  


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A Difference Of Interests

According to the hype in the trending topics, if you are into a non-trending topic you are less than those who are trendy; including music taste, makeup, and clothing. 1There are over 7 billion different people on this Earth. Each one unique, just like the DNA and fingerprints they are born with. Now, some of these people have certain things in common- such as favorite colors, bands, and interests.


Such stigmatism's can be made specifically about certain people that are fans of heavy music. This includes the genres of metal, heavy metal, and thrash metal. Which have always been underlying genres in music- definitely not trending. People think those who listen to this music are more violent, angry, and overall on the brink of killing people. Which is definitely not true for all the fans of this form of music. This bias continues to persist to this day.


One amazing example of this is the West Memphis Three. This is a murder case were the justice system was swayed by such said biases against people who are nothing more the a little different. On May 5th 1993 there was a murder case opened. Three second grade boys were beaten, mutilated, bound, and killed. These boys were the namesake for the West Memphis Three. The police had no leads but were drawn to some teenage boys that wore all black, kept to themselves, and listened to very heavy metal, and rock and roll. The real rebels of ‘93. All joking aside these boys were convicted and sent to prison for crimes they did not commit all based on bias created by trends and marketing tactics.  In all marketing campaigns when you see pop artists their pictures and videos are usually very bright and colorful. While in heavy metal, rock, punk, and thrash music most pictures and videos are darker, and have a more serious motif. Usually the lyrics are about real life issues and feelings, while pop music is more about having fun and being cool. I am not saying that pop music is better or worse than other types of music, but I am definitely saying there is a huge bias against kids that listen to these ‘other’ kinds of music.  


I can definitely relate to this. Some of my favorite bands are Of Mice & Men, Bring Me The Horizon, Megadeth, and Nirvana. These bands are all classified as Heavy Metal or Rock & Roll. And because I listen to these bands and genuinely enjoy them people form opinions and biases against me. Like, “You’re probably going to grow up to be a serial killer”, “Are you a satanist?”,"You're on drugs aren't you?" and the most popular, “Are you a lesbian?”


Somehow listening to someone expressing their feelings in a more raw fashion means I have to be societies definition of undesirable. Just as the West Memphis Three were pegged. In metal music the singers and band pour their feelings into their songs and scream it out at the top of their lungs, they don’t pretend to be calm or collected. They make their thoughts sound how they feel. But if you openly admit that you have the same feelings and refuse to water them down you are dangerous. Being that you don’t feed into the same mass delusions of complete sanity that most people in today’s world do.


In the end the West Memphis Three were released and the true culprit- a church going, faithful, and reliable stepfather of one of the boys- was placed behind bars. And thank God the police aren't shared on any of my playlists- or I just might be in prison too.





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Niyala Brownlee's Food Project o(^~^)o

Sugar

Flour

Butter

Eggs

Sprite Soda

Lemon Flavor


Cream butter an sugar.

Add in 1 egg at a time

Beat it.

Mix in the sprite and lemon extract mixture in alternately with the flour. Mix well

Bake in an oiled bunt pan

at 325 fahrenheit for an hour or more un tip it's done.


Lemon Glaze  (wasn't used/ optional)

2 cups confectioners' sugar

3 to 4 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

Place confectioners' sugar in a medium bowl or liquid measuring cup; stir in lemon juice (glaze should be thick, yet pourable). Add more sugar or lemon juice, as necessary, to achieve desired consistency.


Lemon Glaze

2 parts water, one part sugar, a few drops lemon essence. Boil until it has a clear syrup texture.


Lemon essence is flammable. Do not set your kitchen on fire. 


The meal cost less than 15$ I think.

With ingredients left over.


All of the ingredients are from America. 

Unbleached organic all-purpose flour guarantees that it has mot been genetically modified. Wheat was grown under organic guidelines. Enrichment is voluntary.  Some states required it. Folic acid is required d to help prevent spinal chord injuries.


FDA required eggs to be refrigerated as soon as possible. The FDA required eggs to be graded for inspection to determine for wholesomeness. For quality, it is voluntary.

All packaged raw shelled eggs must carry a specified handling statement if they are not treated for Salmonella. d

 "SAFE HANDLING INSTRUCTIONS: To prevent illness from bacteria: Keep eggs refrigerated, cook eggs until yolks are firm, and cook foods containing eggs thoroughly."

My eggs did not contain this statement so I'm guessing that they are treated for Salmonella.

And they are considered kosher.

About Sprite. FDA ensures that carbonated drinks are safe and sanitary. They are also honestly labeled. Manufacturers and consumers are required by the FDA to take specific steps in making sure that the drinks are safe. 'Comes in contact with' is a crucial part. The bottles themselves are also strictly regulated.


For chemical preservatives, their function in the drink is required. such as 'preservative, to retard spoilage, a mold inhibitor' and more.

food 1
food 2
food 3
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Do I Have a Fairy Tale Prince?


I am a princess. I may not look or live like it yet, but I am.  When I am older, I will live in a beautiful castle/house. I will have so many beautiful dresses I won't know what to do with them. I will go to balls, and when I walk in, fashionably late, I will be the belle of the ball. And of this, all of what I will soon have is because of one person. Who is that person you ask? If you are thinking me, you would be wrong. I am nothing but a simple girl, I can't get all of these things for myself. I need a man. A strong beautiful man, preferably a prince, but he could also just be super rich. We will meet at a ball or some charity function, I didn’t want to go to, my friends dragged me to. We see each other, and I don’t think much of you and you didn't think much of me, except that I was H-O-T. I mean come on, he is a man, there is no way I could be in love with a woman. That doesn't happen in fairy tales. Anyway long story short we get married after realizing we are perfect for each other, we get married, and he takes me away to live in his castle/house. And the happy little princess lived happily ever after, the end. That is the plot to almost every fairy tale ever written. What every girl wants; including me. Its what I grew up wanting.

I used to think I was better than all of those other girls, because while they were engrossed with Cinderella and Snow White, I happened to look at Belle from “Beauty and the Beast” as a role model.  She was, is, the better princess after all. (Well at least in the Disney version) She is her own person, she read books, she didn't take crap from anyone. Everyone either loved her or wanted to be her. She didn't wait for her prince to come save her either. She only found her prince when she went to save him. How is that for girl power?

We are raised from birth to believe that there is that special someone out there for us. That our other half is the one that is supposed to make us whole, and that we will never be whole with that half  missing. But when I look at my self in the morning I am whole. There is no side of me missing, inside or out. But inside I feel as if I am missing that thing that everyone else has. It's like a piece of me is not lost, but was never there, like I wasn't born with it; like this is some sick joke on God’s part. They made an Adam to go with every Eve and vice versa. Why did they do this to us? Make us a match for someone? It makes no sense. Love is everywhere. It's in songs, paintings, TV, movies, books, music, even right outside your window. We are surrounded by it, and yet no one knows how to define it? How is that right? Is it even real? And if so, who says so? Are you sure that thing you feel when you're with your "other half" isn't just a tiny heart attack that makes you feel like there are butterflies in your chest? What if there is something really wrong with you and you don't know it, because everyone told you it was love?

I hate those books. You know the kind where the guy and girl are complete opposites, and yet they still fall in love in a matter of days? And then there is some big problem, but by the end of the book everything is fine and they ride off into the sunset with each other. I mean how unrealistic is that? Maybe that is how they did it in the olden days, but that is not how it happens now a days. There is only one couple I know that has lasted through the years, and thats the Whites. They are the perfect couple. He always pays attention to her, and she always takes what he says into consideration. But everyone knows that one old couple who has lasted throughout the years, right? Other t Mr. and Mrs.White, I know no one else who has gotten through the better or worse that they promised to help each other get through on their wedding day.

But how do I know, I know what I want. I mean, I know what I want, but how do I know why I want it. I have grown up in a society where women are told that they shouldn’t exist without a man. That their purpose in life is to serve men. Those who try to exist without a man are suppressed and womanized, until they are forced to go crying into the dad’s arms . That there here is no way we can not exist without a man. So girls are left wondering if the fairy tale prince is simply a result of a brainwashing society or because it is what they truly want. It's confusing. You can never know. Do you even need love? Is it even a real thing? And I'm not talking about a mother’s love or family love, because I know for a fact that that is a real thing. I’m talking no platonic love.

Men seem to be able to exist without love. They applaud each each other for not settling down. For not having the responsibility of a wife or kids.  They are able to sleep around with women, and then become heroes. Yeah, sure they might get a slap in the face now and then, but that only adds to their hero status. They are successful business men, that have no responsibilities to weigh them down. Women are expected to settle down. To have kids, to make a home. If they don't they are not thought of as real women. If they did what men did, they would be called sults and tormented untill they either quit trying to go against society's laws, or start bending to society's will.

In "Beauty and the Beast" that is all Belle did. After their happily ever after Belle just went to the kitchen to cook, or looked after the castle. While her husband who hadn't ruled for over 50 years resumes his rule over the kingdom. A kingdom that doesn't question how wrong he was for abandoning them for his own problems, they just accept him back with welcoming arms because he is a man. He had the power, and Belle was just proud to be the wife of a king,  a person in power, a man.



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“The Biggest Tree”

“The Biggest Tree”

“Shoot slow down will you?!” I yelled as I ran down the streets of the small town.  

The man I was chasing was smaller than me but he was lean and had great stamina. I’d never had trouble chasing people down as a child but this guy was something else. He cleared about 3 fences and then side stepped past several civilians who were confused by the entire situation. Eventually he ran into an old abandoned building and ran up the stairs.

“Dammit!!” I yelled.

I dug into my pocket and pulled out my amphetamines. This was the first time that I had ever pulled them out and at the Academy they told officers in training to only pull them out in dire situations.

“There is no point in running!” I screamed trying to sound as intimidating as possible.

A few seconds after taking the drugs things got very clear. After climbing to the top of the building I shortened the gap between us in half. The criminal jumped from the current building we were in to the next but I was able to jump at the same time and in midair I tackled him right to the ground.

“GRC (Governmental Resistance Control) bitch” I yelled into his ear.

The guy was still struggling trying to wriggle his way out and get out so I picked him up off the ground punched him in the gut knocking him out. Officers stopped getting issued handcuffs standard a long time ago and the reasoning behind it was that handcuffs were not needed when there was no reason to commit crime. I did however have a standard issue pistol which I was guess was for shooting at pigeons but for now it was a means of keeping this guy in place for when he woke up. I carried the guy back to my car in discretion as to not alert any civilians and drove off to the station on my way.

“Did anyone see you apprehend him?” the Señor Custodian officer asked.

“People saw me chasing him but for all they knew I could have been trying to ask him a couple of questions is all.” I retorted

“Did you use your firearm?” He asked.

“No sir I used it to suppress him incase he tried to get away.” I replied.

Without asking further questions walked away talking to someone on his police walkie talkie but I couldn’t make it out. The drugs had weared off and all my senses began to deteriorate. All I could remember was a few Guard Officers all surrounding the patient who had just woke up and everything else after that went black.

I woke up the next day at my house. I was still feeling bad and couldn’t seem to get my vision back in check. I really should stay away from those drugs, the after effect is just too much. I slapped my work uniform back on and I went back down to the station and addressed the clerk.

“Where is the man I captured yesterday?” I asked.

“Yesterday? What are you talking about, you weren’t hear yesterday…” the lady said back to me.

“Check your damn files,” I angrily retorted.

“Alright officer” she said is a calm but patronizing voice.

She busily checked her computer and got back to me relatively fast.

“There is no record of any such events happening on our system records” she said.

“That contraption is full of shit, I very clearly chased down a man and apprehended him” I angrily said.

“Sorry I don’t have it...” she replied.

I left after that and began talking to my fellow officers in the building.

“Excuse you do you remember me capturing a criminal yesterday?”

“Sorry I didn’t see anything”

Again and again I asked everyone and anyone if they saw anything and I got nothing. I ran down to the Chief Officer’s office and bribed some security guards to let me in.

“Sir I caught a criminal yesterday why are their no records? Officers I know saw me capture the criminal are denying seeing anything.” I said.

“Do you know what we do for living?” He asked?

“We suppress any incoming threats to society?” I replied.

“Suppress… That is the key word, we seize, detain and erase and threats, anything that ever so slightly alters the morale of our fair people is a threat.” He said.

“What are you trying to say sir?”

“I’m not trying to say anything. I can’t talk that which no longer can be deemed a threat.”

“But all threats are erased how can we learn and grow?”

“Why grow when we are the largest tree in the forest?”

“The tallest tree is the most likely to fall” I retorted.

“Good bye Officer Kelly.”

“But wait!” I yelled.

Armed guards came and roughly escorted me out. So many questions erupted in me. What is my government? What is crime? Can we exist in a world where crime isn’t addressed as crime? My head began to hurt. My vision began to get blurry again. I tried my best to get my grip back on reality. I remembered the wallet I picked up that the suspect dropped. 4556 North Spooner St. I had something left of this mystery man.

The cab driver refused to drop me off directly at house. The area was too high class. Each house was a stand alone and was at least four stories high. They paint of each house glistened in the sunlight and the lawns were lush and green. The house of the mystery man was very nice just like the others. I carefull knocked on the door. Someone quickly responded. It was a woman at least 35-40 years old.

“Excuse me Madam how are you today?” I asked.

“I’m doing fine, may I ask why you are here?” She replied.

“Well I’m here on behalf of the GRC now don’t get alarmed I was just wondering if anyone you know has gone missing?”

She gave me a very blank stare and didn’t respond.

“I know talking when your back is against the wall is hard but its time like these when words are the only express yourself.”

“Why are you here?” she finally said.

“To find what shouldn’t be findable. I’m guessing this man was your husband?” I said as I showed her the wallet with the ID.

“He is my husband, he died 12 years ago why are you bringing him up now?”

“The expiration date on the drivers license expires next year, no point in lying now”

“Why should I tell you anything?”

“Because people seek closure, and it seems that I’m the only man who is trying to get it for you at the moment”

“Can I trust you?”

“Who else can you trust?”

“Come inside.”

I sat down on a couch in the living room as she brought forth some coffee and some papers.

“My husband was a doctor, specifically a surgeon. He cared deeply for his fellow man and it pained him to see that they were dying. Lack of organs for transplant was a rampant problem. So he began dabbling with the wrong people, they supplied him with organs for transplants. He saved many lives… There was a rat who sold him out. And then the GRC “dealt” with him.”

“Do you have any idea who the Rat was?”

“A coroner who worked at the morgue, only person with the evidence against him.”

She exchanged what little information she had for me and I was off on my way. I grew up trusting the government and the GRC. They were keeping us away from anarchy. Keeping us safe from chaos and allowed children to have a safe bright future. I still had faith in them. I arrived back at the station and I proceeded to confront the Chief Officer. I made it down to his office. But something hit me on the back of the head and everything went dark again.

I woke up in a poorly lit small room. I was tied down to a chair and there was something metal slapped across my wrists. Probably handcuffs. Two men walked in the room. One of them started punching me in the face presumably leaving my face swollen as I could barely open my eyes.

“When Adam and Eve ate the apples from the garden of eden do you know what happened?”

“Pigs started shitting gold bricks?” I said trying to be smart.

The man punched me in the face. He was wearing a gold ring making things all the better.

“They were cast out from paradise. What we have here is paradise. No crime, no hate, no disdain for anything.” He said.

“Utopia’s are not real” I quickly said.

“Well I can tell you that we are as close to a utopia as humanly possible, what holds us back is people like you. Words are mans most powerful tool. A single man could an uprising. You never truly believe in the GRC, you believed in the image they posed of a society where everyone could co exist.” said the Chief Officer as he looked me in the eye.

“Isn’t that a world everyone wants to live in?” I asked.

“But its unattainable, someone is gonna mess up the perfect society no matter what we do. I’m trying to suppress those people, that is the GRC’s goal, to ensure that peace stays” He replied.

“Well then I don’t want to live in this word anymore, But just remember that for everyone of us naysayers that dies two more of us will rise to fight your cause,” I said as my final words.

“Duly noted, we shall see if your beliefs out survive mine”

Even though I didn’t live to make as much of a difference as I wished I could have I’d like to believe that others will inherit my will and try to abolish dystopian thinking and establish true peace between all men and women.


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Kanye West and his Bias's


Back in 2004 was the first time I heard “Get em’ High” on satellite radio. From there I was hooked onto Kanye just from the interesting and very unique sound that seemed as if it was never done before.


In Ye’s second album “Late Registration” he had a song by the name “Crack Music” and he had a few lines that set a lot of people off. He said We, invested in that, it's like we got Merrill Lynched And we been hangin from the same tree, ever since”. In these lyrics Kanye is trying to say that when you invest or use money to invest in Merrill Lynch the investment bank, then you will be basically screwed over and the way he compared it to the Lynchings of back then. It is very revealing that Kanye has a bias against White people. The way he used lynching in there let him get leverage on the audience.


People ask me all the time why I still listen to Kanye or like him after he goes out and puts these lyrics out there and all these “stunts” that he pulls. Well my answer to all them is “Because he is not scared to say or do anything”. I personally give props to these people who can go out and say these kind of things. Kanye West definitely has a bias against Caucasian people. He has a little bit of a sense that the white man is putting him down and in some ways he is right. Although I am white and can recognize and come out to say that sometimes in todays time caucasians put down people of color and don’t give them the same opportunities. I do not think it is right, but it happens and its out of my control. This bias of Kanye is what draws my attention to him.


He has a way to get at the listener though. In his most recent album “Yeezus” and in the song by the name of “New Slaves” Kanye said “Ya’ll throwin’ contracts at me, you know that niggas can’t read!” With the use of the whole stereotype of Yeezy saying “African American people cannot read” shows that white people are the ones that are “Throwing the contracts at him”. With the use of the african americans not being able to read, he really threw out his Bias into the world. He recently said in an interview with BBC that “the white man is holding me down and not letting me do my thing. I cannot design any clothing without someone letting me do it.” Then he went on and on and on about this. To me, I really started to like him more and more once he started talking out about this because he is not scared to say anything about people putting him down. Yes it is expressing his bias, but he is doing what he wants and that is why I still like him.


Kanye West has been known for using some very provocative samples of beats in his songs just like in the song “Blood On The Leaves” from the album “Yeezus”. He used the song “Strange Fruit” by “Billie Holiday” which was written in the 1920’s. It was about the Lynchings with the Blacks. The lyrics are "Strange fruit hanging from the poppy trees, blood on the leaves". It means that the strange fruit are the slaves hanging and they are hanging from the poppy trees. Blood on the leaves means that their blood is on the tree. Since Kanye used this sample he expressed his bias against the whites. In some ways it can be interpreted as racist. Through out the album "Yeezus" he displayed some very touchy subjects that had set some people off. I personally was expecting this from him because I know that he is known for doing this kind of stuff. Just like for the Hurricane Katrina Relief broadcast where he said “George Bush does not like black people” and everyone was just completely shocked. It really shook the world and that was one of the first times he has spoken out like that on Live Television. Before that he had never pulled a stunt like that. In his previous albums he has mentioned his Bias against white people, but never on TV.

Throughout his album “Late Registration” he had a number of Skits in there about a black cult in a college that resembled a type of “Black Brotherhood” in a way. In one of the skits the man said “ This was founded years ago By broke slaves, years ago Who did not have, years ago By broke brothas in the 20s, years ago Who did not have when we could not eat Hmm, remember that? Eating all of our cereal with forks because we wanted to save the milk, do you remember that? Hmm? Do you remember all those Christmases when your Mama walked in the room and pretended she was the tree, huh? Remember that? “ This quote from the song points out another one of Ye’s Bias which is that the “African American community is poor and they do not have the proper resources to live a ‘normal’ life”. Kanye likes to use this Bias of his to show the world the unfairness in todays society.


Although Kanye may be very offensive to the white audience, he is still my favorite artist. Throughout my research using the bias worksheet we had in class, I found out he has a bias againt Caucasians. He uses very provocative lyrics to draw the attention then he gets people to believe in it. He gets people by systems to believe in his bias and make it their own. He is doing the same as others, Malcolm X, Dr. King, and more, just in a way through lyrics and sometimes in rants. He plays a big role in the system of black rights because of how he comes off and what he says. He does what others are scared to do...
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Tarea 1-24-14

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Yo soy Porfirio Díaz. Soy el presidente de México y soy un buen presidente. Sin embargo mis persons no les gustan mí. Pero yo no se por qué. Soy fuerte y estoy inteligente. Yo se que yo soy un buen persona. Las opinas de los otras personas no importa. 
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The Audition | Michelle Friedman

Looking around, I felt a bit intimidated by the over-priced, over-hyped, and shiny sports cars parked next to my run down, rusty, hand-me-down car. Though the people inside would never know what car I drive, the contrast in social classes was already blatantly obvious. Shutting the car’s door behind me, I inhaled the freezing, icy air through my nose and a rush of energy flew down my spine. For some reason this tricked me into feeling calm for the next few minutes and I managed to walk the short stretch from my car to the front doors of the building.

The space was not quite what I had imagined. I had pictured a small, modern studio with bright colors, young smiling professionals, and a few lighting lamps and fans sitting around. A place where people feel welcomed. Before me I really saw a large, bland space with some industrial lights set up here and there. The concrete walls and floors were not so much frightening as they were depressing. In general, the whole room glowed with a grey tint that made everything seem a bit somber. In contrast with the setting, the crowd of girls to my left, waiting to audition, was quietly whispering amongst themselves, clearly not shy or scared of anything. From the left side of the building a strong mix of fruity and floral perfumes came creeping over to mix with the faint Clorox smell left over from the cleaning crew the night before.

I assumed that I was supposed to go over to the crowd of girls, and when I approached the group, nobody reacted to my presence. I took this as a good sign, and quickly took a seat. The clock hanging above a doorway told me I still had about ten minutes until the auditions were scheduled to begin. So I pulled my phone and headphones from my back pocket and put on some music to pass the time and calm my nerves. I crossed my legs and sat back in my chair, as I let my mind wander. I saw a loose thread hanging from the bottom of my shirt, but when I tried to pull it out the thread kept pulling through and through. I quickly realized that touching the thread was a mistake because my shirt was now awkwardly tight by my right hip. Great, another blemish to make me stand apart from the other girls. I decided to simply stop fidgeting and crossed my fingers in my lap.

Slowly I watched as girl after girl walked through the door and back out; each one looking more satisfied than the first. An hour later I saw the familiar woman step from the doorway.

“Weiber, Christina?” She looks up from her clipboard and sees that I’m the last one there.

“Yep, that’s me.” I respond with a smile. The smile wasn’t reciprocated.

She led me into the audition room, and I saw before me the standard set up. The recruiters sat behind a heavy wooden table, and there were a couple of bright white lights set up around the room. They each had tall coffee cups before them, and looked like they were there for serious business. I was taken aback by the intense lighting and faces before me. 

“Good afternoon, Ms. Weiber, how are you today?” Said the man in the middle. All three of the people sitting behind the table were dressed in very professional clothes. The two men were surprisingly wearing new, shiny suits and the woman was dressed in a form-fitting, black dress and modest heels.

“I’m great, thank you for asking. I’m very happy to be here.” I started to hand my résumé over, and the lady who escorted me in leapt up to deliver it to the recruiters. I could have easily done the simple task myself, but nobody commented on it so I pushed it out of my mind.

It felt like they were a hundred feet away from me, but in reality, the table was about twelve feet from me. Once all three of them got a copy of my papers, the man in the middle introduced them all.

“I am Alex Minkle,” he motioned to the left and then right, “this is Trey Greenwich and Alice Krin. If you could give us a minute or two to look over your files, please.” I nodded silently.

It took them about thirty seconds to leaf through the sheets I gave them and then they huddled together and started whispering. With his elbows resting on the table, Alex Minkle chuckled behind his hand and glanced up at me for a second. I couldn’t know for sure what they were saying, but I didn’t want to look at them. Looking down, I still felt eyes on me.

“Alright, Ms. Weiber, can you tell us a little bit about your background? Where were you raised?”

I had never heard this question at an audition before. I wondered what the point of the questions was but I decided not to question what they were saying, I mean, they are in charge here.

“I grew up by 49th and Polk St. I still live there though.”

“Uh huh…” Responded the woman. She seemed a bit discomforted. I already suspected why, but I didn’t want to let myself believe it. “What do you do to make a living?”

“Well, I’m taking classes at the community college right now, so I don’t have time to work.”

“Then how do you provide for yourself?” She asked in a snarky tone.

I was starting to hesitate now. For a simple television advertisement, they were asking really specifically personal questions. I didn’t want to offend the woman by not answering, so I didn’t.

“I live with my parents.” I responded slowly.

They exchanged glances momentarily and then stared straight at me. Their eyes seemed to bore holes in me wherever they looked. I felt the spotlight on me but not in the way I like. I expected this to be a regular audition, but suddenly the room felt colder to me and their faces seemed harder.

“…Really? And what do your parents do for a living?” Continued the woman.

“Please excuse me, but would you like to hear the song? I don’t understand why these things matter right now and I don’t feel comfortable sharing all of this information with you.”

She smiled and looked in my eyes with a look that frightened me. “We are simply-“

The Greenwich guy decided to interrupt her and speak for the first time that afternoon, “Christina, we need to know if you are fit to represent this company, don’t you see? We need someone who looks professional and experienced.”

“Alright, but you have my résumé right in front of you. Do you believe I am unqualified?”

“That’s not what I mean.” He spoke slowly, like he was explaining something simple to a child. “What I mean to say is that we can’t let just anyone off the streets work for us.”

This really got me. I finally saw the real reason behind all of their questions. I thought that by this point in my life, once I had such a strong résumé, none of this stuff would happen to me. I remember when I went to my first audition for Macy’s and all the girls around me were white, rich, and from private schools. This conversation here was starting off the same way that it did with the women at Macy’s, and I was not eager to let it keep going. I took a breath and tried to not say anything too rash.

“Off. The. Streets.” I repeated.

“Well, you know what I mean,” he responded, “You people usually bring some sort of trouble, and we like to run a smooth operation.”

“‘You people’? What do you mean, ‘you people’. What’s different about me?”

“Christina, don’t pretend that you don’t see this.” Of course, he was referring to my skin tone, but I refused to give in. I’ve had this conversation with too many people before, and this was the last straw.

“Mr. Greenwich. Sir. I first of all, would like to thank you for your wise words. I realize that you and your value the face of your company more than life itself, but I too, value my face. I hope I don’t offend you like you’ve offended me, but ‘you people’ are the only people causing problems for anyone right now.” They looked at me in shock. “You see me as a black lady. I see myself as a strong, talented woman who is passionate about preforming arts. You see as the face of crime and property, nothing more. You now know where I live, and for some reason, have now deemed me unfit to work for you. So, I thank you for your time and attention, but I can’t work for you. I pray that you will change your view of people soon, because you are living in a dark, secluded, world.”

 

 

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José Guadalupe Posada




José Guadalupe Posada,fue un illustrator,grabador,  y caracturistica mexicana. José fue un famosa criticó de dictador y su regime. él  tenía un produccíon de carteles,grabados, y dibujos en todos las regiones de republica. Su trabajo influenza más artista gustar Diego Rivera y José Clemente Orozco y las políticas artistas en contra de dictador.


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Esto es un bueno lugar para un mural por que la communidad puede apacar sus coches en arte de la pez otras que los anuncios.
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Bias of the Justice System

Greta Haskell


After watching “The Central Park Five”, “West of Memphis” and “A Thin Blue Line” I have come to a conclusion; the court system has a huge bias against young males especially African Americans. In all of the documentaries young men are convicted for crimes they didn't commit simply because the police are too lazy and ignorant to find out what really happened. The justice system only hears what they want to hear and if they have to manipulate and lie to get what they want, they will.

While watching these documentaries one thing in particular stuck out, the police seemed selfish. No matter what anyone else wanted, they just wanted to hear what they thought was right and get it over with. If someone brought up a different option suggesting that they were wrong or they had the wrong person, they would get angry and find a way to make their decision correct.

The justice system’s bias is what caused so many wrongs and injustices. If it's called the system of justice why is so much going wrong? Something else that I thought of reminded me of some of the things we did in class. Most of the people such as the police, the judges, and the jury were white upper middle class males. As we saw in class we usually have a bias towards people like ourselves. If the people they were trying to put in jail were different than them, they would find a way to have a bias against them just because they were different.

In the Central Park Five is when the bias stood out to me the most, most if not all of the people involved in the case were white except for the young men who were being charged with the murder. The police arrested them simply because they wanted to get someone and those boys were the easiest to arrest. It really shows that the police were too lazy to try and find who really did it just because they wanted to lock someone up.

While watching these documentaries I really got angry and I guess I discovered a new bias of my own. I feel that people should have their rights and police and other workers should do their absolute best job to see if the person is guilty or not. Imagine being locked in jail for five or even more years of your life that you can never get back for something that you had no part in. That has to be the worst thing I can imagine and I would wish it on nobody. I kind of thought of going into the justice system when I got older, but that would be a heavy load to bear so I decided against it.

Bias is a subconscious decision that can't be controlled but it can be so serious that it can change someones life forever. This really shows that peoples bias can sometimes be even more important than fact. There are a few exceptions but overall people stick with what they believe and subconsciously want to believe. People are not always fair but sometimes it's hard to change because we can't really do anything about it.


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