Boys and Girls Ultimate: State Championships
Teams must qualify.
Our group
began planning ways in which we could best execute the project. With that said,
we all had different understandings of what we hoped to accomplish by the
completion of the benchmark. After some discussion, we agreed that the mission
of our group is to raise the city’s awareness of the frequency and general
amount of home abandonment in Philadelphia. We took into account ways in which
information is successfully conveyed to us, and applied things like social
networking, visual art, and film into our project.
One of our
first ideas was to have a small-scale model of a Philadelphia neighborhood,
emphasizing the ripple effect of an abandoned home. It was my job to create the
model and my initial thought was to make it using birdhouses. The model would
then be placed in an open urban environment with a QR code attached. We
considered places like Rittenhouse Square and along side the Schuylkill River. As
we continued to flesh out the details of the QR code and which of the many
places we could have placed it, we came to the realization that birdhouses are
not easy to come by. So we ditched the birdhouse idea, and stuck to flyers.
The
division of the workload wasn’t an issue for my group. Since we hoped to have
an up and running website, flyers posted throughout the city, a video (PSA),
social networking pages (Facebook and Twitter), and a letter addressed to Mayor
Michael Nutter, there was definitely enough work to go around. Korah and Michael
paired up to work on the video and website, while Anthony and I wrote the
letter to the Mayor and composed the flyers. We collectively shared input on
the social networking sites and did so seamlessly. Overall, we successfully divided and conquered.
With Drake being my favorite current-day MC/artist, for my sculpture I chose to light up Drake’s eyebrows using a parallel circuit. Specifically his eyebrows because they are his most famous physical feature. With three bulbs in each eyebrow, the bulbs brightness is at its peak and powered by a 9-volt Duracell battery.
As
an individual who is bi-lingual, my personal experience with balancing
different languages has at times proved to be trickier than one would think. Being
born and raised in a place where the majority of the people I encounter on a
daily basis speak English was quite different from the language I spoke at
home. My parents are immigrants from Ethiopia, where the official language
there is known as Amharic. The language is apart of the many Semitic languages that
are native to that area of the world. As an Ethiopian-American I would
initially master English, before being able to learn Amharic. Once I turned 7,
my parents would send my brother and me to Ethiopia, to spend a whole summer
with extended family before school would start. There is where I would be
exposed to a different lifestyle, one that was exceptionally unique from my
life in the United States, but ultimately being forced to take up a new
language.
It all started when my uncle Tilahun would
greet us at the airport.
He yelled out, “Enkwan dena metachu!”
This means “Welcome home/here!” I smiled
hesitantly, for this man was absolutely new to me, but I knew I was with
family. My brother at the time would be the one to engage anyone in
conversation for he had already managed to master the language. He replied
back, “Enkwan dena kwayachu” which translates to “Glad to be here.” We made our way to baggage claim to get
our luggage and soon afterwards we were in the back of my uncles old-school
truck. The trip to his house took forever, as my brother and I would
occasionally glance at one another, while we both looked out the windows
observing what would be our new home. We finally arrived and would be met by
four of my male cousins who were eager to see our faces. We made our way inside
and were shown to our rooms, as we were starting to unpack, my grandmother came
in, “Tsion, yene lidge adegeshal, ende enastash te meshlialish” which
translates to “Tsion, my child your getting big, your starting to look like
your mother.” I replied back with
the little Amharic that I knew; “Egserestelin” (Thank You) and I smiled. My
grandmother knew that I had a lot to learn still, while she hugged me.
Yet,
I would manage to pick up the language relatively fast, for over the next the
couple of weeks, the biggest lesson I would learn wouldn’t come from my family,
but from the kids in the neighborhood.
It was a warm day, I wore my white dress that my mom had bought back in
the states and I was eager to show it off. I was accompanied by one of my
younger cousins, for he was my guide while my brother was away with my uncle
exploring the city. My cousin introduced me to his school friends and I met two
other girls named Gelila and Wusho. They were friendly, with two white bright
smiles, long hair, and their jean jacket outfits. For a second, I even thought
they were twins. One of them carried a jump rope and the other a bright set of
colored chalk. “Enechawet!” said Wusho, which meant, “Let’s play”. I replied
back, “Ishe”, which means, “Okay”.
We
started jumping rope and would take turns when one of messed up and got caught
up in the rope. They taught me different words as we played while they sang
songs. I would repeat what they would say and gradually I would end up managing
to speak more fluently. The sun was soon making its way westward, which meant
that we needed to go home. We said bye to one another, “Chow Tsion” and I
replied back “Chow Wosho” “Chow Gelila”. My cousin and I made our way back
home, to find my brother drinking coffee with my uncle. “How was your day,
Tsion?” my brother asked, “It was good, I think I’m getting Amharic now”, I
replied back.
If
it wasn’t for those two girls that would spark my interest in learning Amharic,
I think I wouldn’t have ever let myself learn. My parents were amazed to see me
speak it so fluently, when we came back, because I was able to understand every
word they would say and be able to respond back. This relates to James
Baldwin’s “If Black English Isn’t A Language, Then Tell Me, What is?” in which he
states, “People evolve a language in order to describe and thus control their
circumstances, or in order to not be submerged by a reality that they cannot
articulate.” This factor is what forced me or influenced me to take up a new
language, because of the situation that I was placed in. Ultimately, it made me
draw further connections to people and further/better my communication with
others.
Nosotros fuimos a Perú
Tambo Del Inka Resort and Spa Valle Sagrado
Esta en Urubamba River en Perú. Nosotros los quedamos aquí para dos semanas. Fue $250 para una noche.
La Plaza Mayor
Es en Lima. El capital de Perú. Fuimos para tomar fotos y el a ver la iglesia.
Machu Picchu
Es un cuidad que es famoso en Perú.
La Isla
La playa nosotros venimos aquí la noche de visitar.
Arequipa
Es la cuidad blanca es muy famosa para la iglesias. Pero yo y Lupe fuimos a las compras y comimos mas en la cuidad.
Grande Lago
Esta
cuidad es muy grande. Nosotros visitamos la playa pero es muy aburrida.
Máncora Beach
Es una famosa cuidad en Perú para las playas. Muchas personas pasar el tiempo en la playas. Yo y Lupe visitamos Máncora mas por qué es muy ocupado y divertido.
Colca Canyon
Es en un mas grande canon en el mundo. Por esto nostros visitamos una vez.
09-14-11
“Are you sure you’re not even part Indian?”
Rarely this is intended to be a joke, but more of a genuine question. Even so,
this scenario becomes all too old. The fact that people have the audacity to
tell another person what ethnic background they come from, seems to confuse me
even until this day. At this point of the conversation I’m bored, irritated,
and surprised that I’m still entertaining this person.
There was always a question
of whether or not my family and I would move back to Ethiopia, permanently.
Having a name like Tsion Habtamu isn’t the easiest to live with in America. Tsion
(See·Own) or Zion in
English has a biblical root, and at a young age, I was taught the meaning of my
name. Since then I’ve always been confident of my identity. When I first
enrolled in school it was amusing and interesting to hear teachers and other
students struggle with my name.
“T-shun? Ts-ayan?”
To me it
seemed liked the simplest name to pronounce, and at the age of 5, I also
thought everyone was living in my world. Attending the same small school for
majority of my childhood made it much easier on me growing up. But coming to
SLA was a wake up call, not everyone was used to hearing my name. I suppose
that the older I’ve gotten, the more I’ve coped with standing out. Your name is
supposed to define who you are, and I’ve had difficulty with deciding whether
or not I thought my name did just that. This doubt was purely influenced by
people who were unwilling to accept who I was. It was only rather recently that
I fully accepted my own name and background, and conversations like these make
me realize that not everyone will always accept me, and I have to be ok with
that. My patience for society is running low, but I attempt to keep a positive
attitude towards those in my surroundings.
“I think
I would be the one to know where I’m from,” is how I would normally respond to
this question. Most people take offense at this point, but often forget how it
must feel to have this conversation numerous times. This isn’t to say that
people aren’t particularly amazed by name, in a good way. I’ve had soon-to-be
mothers ask me to repeat my name in admiration, promising that they will name their
daughters’ Tsion. Those are the same people who inspire me to live up to it. And
to the rest of society, my apologies for not being named Sarah, Hanna, or
Ashley. My apologies for being different.