Publicar tu poema en SLATE.
o un buen título (NO: “Español 4 TAREA”).
o mínimo 10 líneas
o mínimo 10 usos del condicional (BOLDED)
o una foto que capta la idea de tu poema.
Publicar tu poema en SLATE.
o un buen título (NO: “Español 4 TAREA”).
o mínimo 10 líneas
o mínimo 10 usos del condicional (BOLDED)
o una foto que capta la idea de tu poema.
A loud hiss, the sound of pressurized air being released, made the din of the students temporarily inaudible. The large, yellow, gas-consuming transport behemoth in front of me settled and opened its doors. Not in any hurry, and wearing half my weight in winter gear, I let my schoolmates barge past me to escape the weather. I turned my head acutely to face my three close friends.
“Back of the bus,” I told them. They nodded, shivering. We boarded the steep steps into the bus and made our way through a multitude of loud children to the rear seats. Sheila followed suit, then Joy, then Taylor. Sheila was twelve, naturally a very pale girl, and a lover of dresses, accessories, and fashion (girl things), vampire novels, anime, and dolls. She was tall and thin, had purely dark hair which was neatly separated on tied into little buns on each side of her scalp. Her facial features slightly resembled that of a mouse, pointed and prominent. She wore an incarnadine dress with white buttons and a lace collar which I found adorable, with black buckled shoes and stockings striped black-and-white. These stockings she bore every other day, and they were collecting rips and tears (when I asked her about them, she told me that “threadbare” was her style). I wondered why she wasn’t freezing.
Joy was not tall, just the opposite was she. Stout, and proud were two adjectives that best fit her. She stood straight and as tall as she could, took school seriously, and wore plain clothing. Jeans, a t-shirt, and a thin jacket were all she ever needed. In warm weather, she would shed the jacket and that would be her outfit. She rarely talked about her hobbies, but I knew she played violin and piano. I couldn’t tell if she enjoyed it, perhaps her mother was the reason she played.
Taylor’s long, flowy, hair was dark as night. It went past her shoulders, and almost reached the small of her back. Each week she did new things with it, always growing it and caring for it. She had a feminine, kind face, with long eyelashes and a delicate nose. People were often assumed her soft appearance was matched by a soft personality, and they soon found out they were wrong as they got acquainted with her. She was seen by others as truculent, I saw her as righteous. She had a loud, infectious cackle of a laugh.
Despite our bizarre and differing interests, we had many common traits. We were reticent to those who didn’t know us and we took a long time to get acquainted.
At the moment, Joy, Sheila and I were conversing about boys, and Taylor and a few other kids a few seats ahead were yelling to each other. I heard snippets of their conversation, and at some point I Taylor say this:
“Yo, you are a bitch!” It was followed by clamorous laughter from Taylor and the other kids.
Whatever was funny, I didn’t get it. In my mind, the “b-word” was not something you called someone, and much less something you called a girl. Was it a joke? It sounded like one. I was a little bewildered.
I looked at Taylor. I started to say something, but I stammered, and just made an incoherent mumble.
“Huh?” Taylor queried, turning to see me.
“Um. Nothing,” I said awkwardly. Taylor was about to return to her conversation, when I continued:
“You can say that?” I blurted with sudden clarity.
“Say what? ‘Bitch?’”
“Of course!” She stated, almost too kindly, as if trying to not misunderstand what my issue was. “It’s just something girls call each other.”
“I thought it was especially bad when you said that to a girl.”
“Well, maybe if you’re a boy,” I was a boy. “But it ain’t that bad.”
Sheila and Taylor looked at me. I felt funny. Was is just me? I couldn’t call a girl the b-word yet other girls could address each other as such? Wasn’t it a bit unfair? The whole encounter left me confused. Was that double standard justified by gender? I never found the answer.
Journey To Swindon
He left the mansion that morning feeling good, going to visit a town his father was thinking of starting a new mine in. His father was letting him take on more and more responsibility with the different mines his father owned. He asked his manservant, Charles, to bring him his horse. He waited for a couple of minutes and Charles had his horse, “here ya go Sir Robert.”
“Thank you Charles.” He mounted his horse and briskly trotted down the road towards the town of Swindon,where the mine would be, after five hours on horseback he stopped at a roadside tavern, called The Drunken Dragon, and called to a stable boy to put his horse up for the night in the stable. He tossed the boy a pound coin. He walked inside the tavern and asked the barmaid for a room and dinner and a flagon of mead then he sat at one of the tables and waited. It took a while for the food to come, they brought out his food and the barmaid said in her broken speech, “this is pork kilt yesterday ‘round noon and fresh potatoes from me garden.”
“This looks delicious, thank you very much,” he replied.
“s’No problem,” she said.
He ate dinner quickly and went upstairs to go to sleep, he was tired from the long days ride but at the same time he was excited at the prospect of his first real work in his fathers business. He went to sleep quickly.
The next morning he awoke to the sound of a rooster crowing in the yard. He got out of bed changed back into his riding clothes and went downstairs for breakfast. He was served eggs on some slightly stale bread, despite the bread it was still quite good. He thanked the owner payed him and left. The rest of his ride to swindon was very uneventful. He rode into the town and looked for the house of his father’s correspondent, Mr. Smith. He finally gave up and went to ask for directions, he pulled up outside a bakery and asked, “Do you know who David Smith is and if so, would you be so kind as to tell me where he lives?”
The baker replied, “yah I know a’him he live right round the corner o’er there.” he pointed with a flour covered finger. “Thank you very much sir.” He walked down the street leading his horse, and knocked on Mr. Smiths door. The door opened and a maid answered, “you must be Robert, Mr. Smith is right this way sir. He walked into a fairly large living room where the fairly large David Smith was sitting eating a lunch that consisted of a roast beef sandwich and a small flask of ale. “Hello Robert, thank you for coming all this way to see me. How is your father doing?”
“He is doing quite well.”
“So your old man is giving you more control over the company?”
“So lets get down to business,” he said with a more serious tone, “ I want to open the mines in less than a week.”
“How are we going to do plan to hire all the workers needed in less than a week.”
“I own most of the land around here and I can raise the price of the businesses rent so they have no choice but to come work for us.”
“Thats illegal! You can’t do that.”
“It is perfectly legal, just immoral and I will do it.”He left the room and stormed out of the house wanting nothing to do with this man. He walked away back towards the stables to get his horse. He decided to try to ride all the way home tonight. He was about halfway there when he started drifting off. He woke up his horse still trotting along but he didn’t know where he was. He was lost. He kept going along the path thinking he must come to a town eventually and find my way home. he kept riding for another hour when he saw someone standing in the middle of the road. The man was wearing a mask so he couldn’t see his face. he pulled up his horse and said, “hello.” The masked man just stood there and stared. He was about to ask him to move when five armed figures jumped out of the brush and demanded that he dismount. Not looking for trouble he dismounted and they pushed him to the ground and tied his hands together and then tied him to a tree. They took all of his money, his horse, and even his clothes. They left him with a tattered old robe that one of them had been wearing. He was eventually able to untie his hands, as the thieves didn’t do that good of a job of tying them. He kept walking in the direction he had been going. He walked for about an hour till he reached a small village. He walked up to a door and knocked. A woman opened the door and looked at him and then slammed the door in his face. He went to the inn and asked for a room and a horse and told the innkeeper that he was very rich and would pay them back. The innkeeper replied, “yeah and I’m the bloody king, hahaha.” Then promptly kicked him out. He walked around the town and asked for help. The children laughed at him because he sounded funny. He guessed this is because he was raised in a richer society where he learned how to talk correctly. He decided that no one would help him here and decided to try to walk home. He walked through the woods back the way he came thinking about how the children said that he sounded funny when he was the one speaking proper English and they were speaking their strange broken version.
Hayao Miyazaki was born on January 5, 1941. He is a Japanese film director, animator, manga artist and more. In his family made sure that he was educated and when to school from the age of three until he was eighteen. During his third year of high school was inspired by the film The Tale of the White Serpent. After this he decided to be into animation at the Gakushuin University.
April 1963 Miyazaki got a job at Toei Animation. While working there he was chief secretary of Toei’s labor union. After many years of helping with concept art he left Toei in 1971. He working at many other animation companies but after a while he chose to take some personal time. During this time he stayed with one of his friends children. During this time is when he found the inspiration for Spirited Away, his biggest commercial success. He has won over 50 awards for all of his movies. To this day he is still and animator and a great inspiration.
Spirited Away was my favorite movie as a child. I have seen it at least twenty times. So I chose to draw the character no face. He can be seen below."Hayao Miyazaki // Nausicaa.net." Hayao Miyazaki // Nausicaa.net. N.p., n.d. Web. 12 Nov. 2013.
My first collage is all about how fast time passes in high school. I made it out of transpass that I have been saving transpass scenes freshman year. So I chose a mix from 2011-2013 and I ended with one that shows graduation. The second and fourth one show how the media shows Black women. They all have straight hair and are thin with perfect skin. However the third one shows what I see Black women as. They are colorful, different shapes and sizes, and some have natural hair. And diversity is needed in the media.
Eyes closed and sitting. Thoughts about random things started to run in my head. Slowly, I opened my eyes and I squinted at the large mirror, seeing the reflection of the shower curtains and the tiled walls. I blinked a few times to get used to the extra bright light. Then the door opens, my sister comes in to wash her teeth. A message comes out of my mouth to her. It was spoken through a native language in the United States. I didn’t notice it at first when the words spilled out my mouth. But a few minutes later, I started noticing that I was thinking about things and saying things in my head in English as well. I was surprised, but I felt a little bad about myself. A part of who I am and where I come from was starting to become faint. It never came to my mind that I would have this conflict. I feel as if that actually might be one of the main reason why this is happening to me.
For most of my childhood years I’ve lived in India. However, I am Tibetan. My family comes from a country called Tibet. My family and I lived in India surrounded by two unique cultures. My own, the beautiful Tibetan culture and the beautiful Indian culture.
My life in India can’t even be expressed in words now that I think back about it. Surrounded my friends and families all the time, I was always connected to the environment. I had a strong foundation at which I’d learned about my culture. Even though I didn't lived in India, I went to a tibetan school and I wrote, read and spoke Tibetan. There were many Tibetans living in the village where I lived, so I never forgot my language and cultures.
We’ve lived in India for a long time, so we did have certain words which were always said in hindi. Some of the common words that I thought were in Tibetan, were actually in Hindi. An example of it is the word “shoes.” I’ve always thought it was a tibetan word. My parents and all of my friends said it in hindi all time. However, we never really mixed phases of hindi and tibetan together when we were speaking, unless it was on purpose. My whole family spoke fluent hindi but they never mixed the two language. On a regular basis, my family spoke in tibetan when they were at home and when they were talking to a tibetan person. My friends also talked in tibetan, so I was the same as them. I continuously spoke tibetan unless the person I was talking to didn’t understand the language.
I’ve learned that the day I left India. The day I left half my family, my grandpa, grandma, aunts, cousins, and friends was the day I was a step further from my culture and language. It’s been about six and half years since I’ve came to America. Life here is so different and its crazy how much I’ve changed with it. Its also crazy how much my family has changed with it.
My sister speaks tibetan but she mixes it a lot with english just like me. As for hindi, both of us have difficulty speaking it, but we’re still able to understand. About thirty percent of the time my mom speaks english at home. She can still speak and understand Hindi very well, but she never uses it at home. My dad does not speak much english at home, he mostly always speaks tibetan. On the other hand, my little brother doesn’t speak tibetan at all. Luckily he can still hear and understand it. In addition to not speaking tibetan, he doesn’t speak or understand hindi.
I became distant to my language. I couldn't speak it anywhere because wherever I went, no one spoke tibetan. The only place I could speak it was at home. When I started school in America, I could only speak english if I wanted to communicate with someone. Thankfully, I was taught a little bit of english in India, so I wasn’t entirely clueless. I was able to build my vocabulary daily, I learned idioms, different ways to say things and I learned slang. I watched and listened to other kids speak to each other. It was one of my main ways that my new friends taught me english. Also, I remember my Esol teacher Ms.Kean. She was always cheerful and very supportive to all the students in Esol. She taught me a lot of new words. She taught me how to get through my first school year in America.
School wasn’t the only place where I learned english. My sister, Ngawang, would also teach me things. My little brother, Dzineon, Ngawang, and I would all bring new things from outside. As time passed, we lived with those new little things. They slowly changed us, day by day. Soon, Dzineon couldn’t speak tibetan anymore. When he spoke, he would say it in english and this somehow automatically made me speak back to him in english. So, I started speaking a lot of english at home and so did my sister.
In 2011, after being in America for four years, the tibetan society in Philadelphia decided to start Tibetan Sunday School for kids like my siblings and I. I learned that I had forgotten the most basic tibetan writing and I had forgotten how to read tibetan. So, I went to sunday school every week. Little by little, I started to be able to read and write in Tibetan again. As for hindi, I remember and understand the language by watching bollywood movies.
“Through lack of practice and not having others who speak it, I’ve lost most of the Pachuco tongue.” This was written in a passage named From Borderlands/La Frontera by Glona Anzaldía. Just like me, others who speaks more than one language and or had spoken more than one language, experiences situations like this. When you don’t speak a language for a long while, you tend to forget how to speak in it or it gets difficult. People don’t take the time to practice the language they know. We’re lazy, we get lazy. But when you have others who speak it around you, you never forget it. You don’t think of it as practice but we think of it as just talking.Work Cited: Anzaldía, Glona. From Borderlands/La Frontera. “Through lack of practice and not having others who speak it, I’ve lost most of the Pachuco tongue.”
Zack Hersh Quarter 1: Reflection 8 11/4/13
Fin de una era: Blockbuster cerrará sus puertas
Blockbuster, una cadena de tiendas que vende y alquila peliculas, cerrara sus puertas, empezando en dos mil catorce. La compañía que posee la cadena de Blockbuster, DirecTv, finalmente dio. El gerente de DirecTv, Joseph Clayton, anunció en miércoles que ellos van a cerrar Blockbuster, porque mientras a una era fue muy popular, lo no puede competir con piratería de video y compañías muy grandes que estan muy popular como Netflix y Hulu.
Blockbuster solo no está haciendo suficiente dinero para quedar y competir. Antes de la era digital, Blockbuster fue muy exitoso y popular, pero con la tecnología de hoy, no es posible para quedar. En dos mil once, la compania empresa quebró. Clayton dijo que “No es una decisión fácil, pero la demanda de los consumidores se dirige claramente a la distribución digital del entretenimiento audiovisual". Este es triste. Mientras no visitaba Blockbuster con frecuencia en mi vida, siempre he respetado y gustaria lo.
Pero la verdad es no tiendas de peliculas va a seguir en el negocio mucho mas. No hay demanda alta para tangible videos y peliculas cuando podemos conseguirlos y verlos digitalmente. Este fue inevitable mientras nuestra tecnología progresó tan rápidamente. Blockbuster fue bueno, pero su vez ha pasado.
EFE. "Latino News and Opinion." Fin De Una Era: Blockbuster Cerrará Sus Puertas - . Al Dia, 06 Nov. 2013. Web. 08 Nov. 2013. <http://www.pontealdia.com/estados-unidos/fin-de-una-era-blockbuster-cerrara-sus-puertas.html>.
Cómics en Spain
de todos modos - anyway
interés - interest
Por lo que he oído - from what ive heard
mezclar - mix
poesía - poetry
alabanza - praise
anadir - to add (v)
pulido - polished
demasiado - too much
la semana pasada el escritor Miguelanxo Prado ganó una premmio para su cómic “Ardalén”. No lo lee, pero quisiera leerlo después de estaba mirando ese artículo. Me gusta leyendo cómics, pero no he comprando un libro en casi un año. Cuando fui joven, y estaba en escuela primaria, yo y mis amigos estábamos yendo al tiendo de cómics y compré muchos libros, incluso spider man(araña hombre) , the walking dead (los muertos caminandos), y the spirit (el espíritu). Me gusta todos de esos libros, pero no he leyendo esos en un tiempo largo. De todos modos, pienso que eso cómic de señor Prado va a ser un cosa buena para mi interés en el mundo de cómics. Despues de leyendo sobre “Arladén”, quizás voy a leerlo. Aparentemente su trabajo he sido sobre mágica y sueños. Por lo que he oído Prado mezcla ficción y emoción en una manera de poesía, recibió alabanza de personas similar que Steven Spielberg y otras personas famosas con muchos premios de cómics. El mejor parte de sus trabajos estan su arte, añade mucho amor a cada ilustración y le usa muchos estilos y utensilios para un producto final mucho interesante y pulido. Quizás sabes que estoy mejorando mi dibujar porque cuando estoy más viejo quiero a trabajar en una empresa como cartoon network o si no allí, alguna donde puedo trabajar con arte o música. Cartoon Network esta mas interesante a yo porque, aprenderé a animar en mi ILP en drexel. Necesito a practica, y tengo más a aprender.
Tuve un poco problemo cuando estaba escribiendo eso reflexion, estaba trabajando cuando de repente realice que he sido usando google translate demasiado. Me gusta que escribir en espanol pero no se si estoy escribiendo más bien. Si puedes corregir los errores en mi escritura, lo sería más útil. Gracias
Osman Bangura 10/25/13
‘’How you de multiple the variables?’’
‘’Hahaha, that’s not how you say it!’’
‘’Na the way how I speak amm.’’
It was the start of 9th grade and we were having one of our first stream of lessons in math of the school year that involved variables, two-step equations and etc. This was the year I turned 15, but the only difference/new thing here in this year was that I decided to speak in my West African dialect, which is called Krio, for the first half of the entire quarter of the school year. This language is a mixture of a French and African language. I did this to become more fluent in my language in attempts to connect more with the indigenous side of my culture. Although people did not appreciate or like the thought of me speaking in a foreign dialect, I simply did not care.
I didn’t always sound like this. Originally I always spoke in an english dialect every place I went, even around family members who were full-blood Africans. I was ridiculed by family members and people of my country whom I knew, because of my inability to speak my country’s native dialect fluently. Even when we were asked to share a parcel of our culture in an history project, I didn’t have much to emphasize on about my culture because I knew so little of who I really was. These experience brought me to becoming more critical of myself when it came to language and the way I would communicate with others.
There were major influences that urged me to begin to speak in Krio; most notably my mother and a devoid feeling of identity brought this urge. I had to eventually find some way to break away from this devoid feeling, so I diverted to speaking my native language to gain a better sense of my culture. One time in the house my mother and I were arguing over me not getting homework done or any of my chores and she decided to speak in Krio so rapidly that I could hardly understand.
For example, she started off as ‘’Waten yu de do na yah? You de fail because yu fashion fashion this game.’’ I responded in english with a startled expresson, ‘’What do you mean?’’’ She then responded without hesitation and a quick tone, ‘’Na make the reason yu de comot from de school with all these ziro ziro grade!’’ She turned in dismal and marched upstairs while I stared into space, with disbelief. Her accent was heavy and she talked fast, which made it very difficult to comprehend with what she said. However, I found it strange that I had any difficulty with comprehending her dialect whatsoever, because I was born in the same country as her; this was a rude awakening for me.
This was the event that sparked off my search for an identity as an adolescent. It occurred to me after this event, that how could I possibly be deemed as an African male if I had no capability to even speak in my native language? And I also realized if anyone ever asked me to talk in my African dialect, what would my response be if I had no basic knowledge as to how? I would not only be embarassed but I would be looked at differently socially. It was bad enough as it is not being able to speak in my dialect, but in classes full of ridiculing americans and a few africans I would have any bolster from people of my country in classes at school. They would not accept me if I couldn’t simply communicate with them in my language.
For example, in American Tongues, people were often criticized for having a different way of speech. If someone speaks in a different foreign dialect they would be laughed at or teased in some form of way. I was going through the same dilemma in my 9th grade classes at my old school, some people saw my language as amusing because of the way I expressed my accent(though I hardly had one, which contributed to the laughter). When I first began generating of the idea of speaking in that dialect for the first half of the entire first quarter, I seen it as ridiculous because I knew it would be socially unacceptable in a predominantly American school. But eventually I cared less and less as time went on, and got into the habit of doing so which produced some stunning results.
Eventually, I stopped doing this all together in classes as soon as I realized that I was able to now fully comprehend and fluently speak in my native dialect. It was altogether a lot to go through socially because I had a hard time making friends, but people began accepting me for who I was because they respected me for my efforts on wanting to get intimate with my original culture. Although I dropped this regimen and stopped speaking this way in school, I still continued this habit at home and around family members.
Overall these experiences helped me to see past the social aspect of it, but the personal aspect as well. With making this plan to speak in my dialect for the first half of the quarter I gradually redeemed myself because I spoke in this dialect always around family members; when we had family occasions or meet ups I wouldn’t face exclusion which boosted my self confidence greatly. This helped me understand my identity and who I really was: Osman Bangura a strong-willed individual from West Africa. Reflecting back, my life is not as confusing as it was nearly a year ago now; therefore, I have no social obstacles because I know who I am and which type of people to associate with. I feel animated about all of this now, and I can even have a laugh now and then about how silly my struggle was to overcome but it was worth all of the effort.
Los 76ers registro es 3-0:
Este artículo se trata de los 76ers. Los 76ers es un equipo de baloncesto de filadelfia. En esto temporada, los 76ers tenían un registro de 3-0 porque ellos ganaron de juegos contra los equipo fantástico. Por ejemplo Los Heats con Lebron o Los Bulls con D-Rose. Este equipos es el mejor de NBA y los 76ers el equipo peor tuve gente piensan este los 76ers es un equipo fantástico y tenía novatos gusta Michael Carter-Williams. Michael hizo bueno este temporada, promedio un 19.8 puntos y 7.6 asiste. Un promedio perfecto por un novato a NBA. Los 76ers es un equipo bueno en la temporada los 76ers va a impuso mucho juego. Yo pienso el equipo de los 76ers es un equipo fantastico. Michael Carter-Williams y sus equipo van a impulso de división. Obtenía un impuso contra los equipo mejor, yo pienso Los 76ers pueden impuso el división. El vocabulario que yo aprendí en el artículo es encestador. Encestador es un persona quien hizo los puntos mejor. Yo encontrado la palabra en esta sentencia en el artículo. “Carlos Boozer fue el mejor encestador de los Bulls con 22 puntos y 10 rebotes, seguido de Luol Deng, con 20 unidades.” (Fox Deportes)
Word Count: 202
Some books you read can be good or not good and sometimes you would judge it by its cover saying “its going to be bad” or “not even going to read it”. That was my first impression of “The Innocent Man” but I began to read it and I changed my mind on my opinion about the book. I like about the story about how injustice in a small town in Oklahoma was changed by one murder and how one person statement can change a case.
The book tells the story of Ron Williams and how this affected him and how bad injustice can get. The story starts with a very brutal and disgusting murder of a girl that had made a small peaceful town where people everywhere knew each other was turn into fear, anger and rage, as the town was wondering about who could have done the murder and what the outcomes could happen to the townspeople if the killer is not caught.
This book is mostly about how the investigation went down, how the police made few mistakes and what they did wrong. Ron Williams, a former minor league baseball player from the Oakland Athletics and famous in the town is one of the suspects in the investigation. He had been seen at the bar where the woman was at hours before she was found dead and he also had a drinking problem. So that made him very interesting to the police because of that.
He was tried for murder but had trouble being tried. He and his friend were found guilty of murder and both were given their death penalty. Ron Williams story is a different one than you think he was a star in his town before the murder he was a baseball star and got drafted by the Oakland Athletes and firsted started in Class-A and also played in Major League Baseball but never made his dream of being an all-star player or winning a world series. This book is show more on how the american justice system can make mistakes and how it affects people. also when reading the book I felt what America could have done with this murder case and how it changes one persons life and the people around them.
The case was done by the Oklahoma State Bureau of Investigation (OSBI) to solve the case they were pressured to solve the case so they even used very little evidence to back up the case that never was part of Ron being guilty. there was very little to go on so they went on any lead they got to the case and they got very little from the leads only that it talked about Ron Williams and his friend. The case was filled with corruption and injustice and was tried unfairly and found an innocent man of murder.
The book had a few tricks in the pages its was a little hard to understand what was going on sometimes and sometimes it was not described well but still it showed how good the book is with photos of the trail and a lot of things. I thought that putting photos into a book helps to support describe about what the writer is trying to say. Also it is very describing about what's going on and about the scene, feel and smell. If you're a person who like very describing writing and visual photos in books then this is the book for you.
I read the book and I liked how they took this story about Ron and showed what happened and the injustice that happened. This book really shows how justice can be taken too far with no fair trial not enough evidence to back up the case or a witness to see the crime take place or DNA samples or blood samples. Even though the evidence was very week they were able to covent him of murder in the first degreg and sentenced to death and the thought what the OSBI could have done wrong did they convicted an innocent man. The book has very done a good job at getting the readers attention and keeps them interested in the book and keeping balance for both.Overall I think the book the book is very good but some places in there are confusing but I would recommend this to people who like stories that target american justice system and what the effects can do of injustice to a person.