dreams- one chance

Most books have happily ever after endings. Most books just
wrap up the whole story making us happy, yet much easier for us to forget them.
Then there are those special ones that don’t end the way we want them to end. They
leave us fighting with the author about it, yet they leave us thinking.

In a book I read, called “Seventeenth summer” by Maureen Daly, Angie
falls in love with jack in the summer. She has to go to college in Chicago and
Jack has to go to Oklahoma by the end of summer.

Through the beginning of the book everything seemed great, but as it got
near the end of summer, I started thinking for and fighting with Angie. I wouldn’t
let her think about going to college and leaving Jack. I wanted her to leave everything
for her first love because it seemed as if she would have been happy for the rest
of her life with him.

Yet, before I read this book, I told my mother that no man will make me
give up college. That made her happy since she gave up college herself for my
father. She has lost an experience that she can no longer get, but she gives me
a chance to enjoy what she never did.

Angie too, promised her mother she would go to college. I think that’s
why she didn’t leave the idea. Also, maybe the love she felt was not strong enough.
It may have looked strong enough to me, yet it might have differed for her.

At first the ending made me angry for a whole week. I didn’t believe
Angie made the right choice. But, after thinking it over, I knew that she had not
made the wrong choice. She had made herself happy by going for her dreams. Dreams
that do not give a second chance and love always have second chances. She had
made her parents happy as well.

The books that end with no “happily ever after” can be more negative but actually
teach more about life. In life, we have to give up something for something
else. There’s always death and violence in between. And I believe it’s good for
teens to start learning that life won’t be easy. Life isn’t easy.

parents make mistakes too

I never thought we, the teenagers, would learn from our
parents mistakes. Not the mistakes they did in the past and tell us to not
follow, but the mistakes they are making now. In fact, it never occurred to me
that there will be a time when we will stop trying to be as beautiful, mature
and high spirited as our parents are.

In Ms.Robbins book club I read What I Saw And How I Lied by
Judy Blundell. Evie and her parents moved to Florida after her father returned
from World War 2. Evie meets Peter, who served for her father’s company in the
war, and falls for him.

Evie feels like her mother is the intruder in her
relationship with peter. But then she finds out that she herself was the
intruder.

Evie’s mother did not just make a mistake that only affected
her and her marriage but it affected her daughter. Without knowing it, she was
hurting her daughter and I don’t think those were her intentions. She created a
problem on herself but made it everyone’s problem.

I guess that’s wrong with mistakes. They hurt not just you
but everyone around you. They are things that can be stopped with just a little
will and push, but ones we do them we have no control over them anymore. Because
ones we create the mistake we cannot go back and stop them from happening.

At first Evie wanted to be just as beautiful as her mother. Her
mother was perfect in Evie’s eyes. She tried everything. She tried to be
mature, wear nice dresses, and put on makeup. She tried to have a man and be
fun, but it got her nowhere. Instead she found out that her “seems as perfect”
mother was less beautiful than she could imagine.

My mother always tells me to not do the same mistakes she
did in the past. Like become pregnant in my teens, choosing not to go to
college even though I have the opportunity etc. I know she was not perfect back
then, but I never thought that she was not perfect now.  When I asked her what mistakes she has had in
the last year, she did not hide them. Instead, she told me straightforward that
she had done many mistakes in her friendships, job and even in her marriage.

I understood that we all are still like kids no matter how
old we are. All, parents and children’s, make mistakes everyday and learn from
them. I will still be making mistakes in 30 years but not the same ones. They
will be different because we learn from our mistakes.

mothers stop being mothers

Women become mothers the minute a tiny human cell forms
inside. Mothers become lovers the minute they love their baby. Lovers
become killers the second they sign the form to have their child unwind.

Most people in the book I’m reading, unwind by Neal Shusterman
believe that it’s alright to have their child unwind, killed painlessly and
given their body parts to people who need it just because the law says it’s alright.
The law states from ages of 13 and 18 you can have your child unwind and really
your child won’t be dead because his body parts will still be working.

But I say that not even parents have that much control over
us. They can bus us around, they can scream at us but they can never choose to
have us killed or unwind. We are our owners when it comes to life and death.

And are we truly alive when our body parts are still working?
I believe that all people have a soul.  “It
is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a
man,”

It is us. The true us inside the body, the only thing no one
can reach, no one can kill. The one that is alive forever. But dead in the
world when it is separated from the body.

I believe we are really a soul taking a body and using it
till it dies and rots, or when it is killed. And we cannot be alive without
that body.

What I don’t understand and don’t want to understand is why
mothers will have their child unwind. They have passed through 9 months of pregnancy,
13 or more years of care and still that’s not enough. If the kids such a problem,
like stealing or doing drugs mothers should reason with it. They could help the
child, because as grownups mothers know how it felt to be a teen. Mothers must
work hard and never give up. That’s why mothers are called mothers because they
care for us love us and will give up their own life for us.

They are the people who put us on track. Make sure we turn
out good adults. And most importantly love us. If mothers just unwind their kid
what will be he point of being called mothers.

I am thankful that my mother didn’t just have me to have me
unwind by age 13. I am thankful that she loves me and won’t ever choose to get
me killed. And I am thankful that she gives her own life for me.

So be thankful that your mother doesn’t want you unwind.

Romeo and juliet

Even though a lot people don’t focus on the setting
it’s still one of the most important in a book, even more important in a play
or movie. And it takes a lot of time to just find the right place. Because the
setting has to be many things at once. Somewhere there is a place just fit for
that story, like Verona is to Romeo and Juliet.

Somewhere there is a place that is both sexy and
hip. That fits with the play. That says “Oh yea, all of that could happen right
here,”

It will just look unrealistic and weird if the movie
was filmed in New York or anywhere in the United States since people are not openly
armed. In Mexico there are mostly poor people and few rich and violence occurred
all the time. It all goes with the story, making it realistic and attractive to
people.

I believe that the setting has a lot to say for the
story. It could be meaningful chosen closely and carefully. Sometimes it
defines the story. Like a romantic restaurant, anything could happen there, it
defines love. It gives us a hint that there’s going to be a romantic moment and
two lovers.  Or a made up fantasy world, without
it there are no made up creatures ect.

And the setting alone could make the story more
attractive to people. I found Verona quite interesting since ill never been
there. It was special because I have never seen those buildings or beach. And I
have never seen the big statue of Jesus.

And maybe the big statue of Jesus was a part of the
plan. Since in the movie the statue was shown a lot especially when dead
happened. Maybe this was one of the reasons they picked Verona, for its
beautiful statue that makes it more interesting to the people.

The statue of Jesus had a big part in the movie. It made
me feel like it was the end of everything. It defined the story, since some
characters (Romeo, priest, ect) believed in it. And some when they ones die
they go to heaven with Jesus. It also defined the wedding. Since it was marriage
with love. And when marring through church you are marring through Jesus.

It meant everything to the story. Since Jesus
approves love, he loves us and wants us to love everyone. He’s there when were
alive. He’s there when were dead. He’s even there when we commit sins. He must
have been there to watch Romeo and Juliet’s wedding and love. He must have been
there when they both took their lives away for each other.

The setting has a meaning in a book or movie. It has
a statue or object that defines the whole story. It either defines love, death,
hate, rivalry or simply friendship.

Love makes you do anything

There are only a few fantasy books that catch my eyes. One in
a million. And those who grab my attention are most likely romance too. Lips
touch was one of those books that caught my eye and made me read it. It’s one
of those books with romance (like) and goblins and curses (hate). Yet the romance
and the theme was all I needed to continue to finish the book.

One story was on a girl that was cursed with a spell, should
not speak or will kill the ones she loves. For love she stayed mute. For her
prince she stayed mute. She stayed mute. And even though when some people and
her guy tried to make her speak she didn’t speak. It would hurt them if she didn’t
speak, it will kill them if she does.  And
I love the way she cares more about her family and friends than using the gift
she was given, a beautiful voice. I love how she chose love. Love over the
curse, the devil.

Another girl longed for something better. Some love. And when
she got it, it will kill her.  Yet she doesn’t
care about her dying, she wants that love. She wants to feel love no matter the
cost of it. And then I think about true humans in our world, how some teenage
girls or women long for a man. No matter if he loves her or not. In her mind he
loves her. In his he is using her. And women do anything to get love. Anything.

It just proves that love can do anything. Either makes us
make the wrong decision or make us stay quiet for it.  I never thought about the wrong side of love. Just
the sweet love, kiss and a happily ever after. But I know this world is full of
wrong men or woman that are liars and use others for their own selfish reasons.
And when they tell you they love you, you try to convince yourself its true
because we long for that love that we never had.  A wrong love, but still love.

I just love learning about beautiful love and the love that
we should stay away from. And the title and cover of the books read love, love,
love, and more love all over it. The book called to me. Made me read it. And I’m
happy this was one of the few lucky books read by me.

my 3 mentors

My first mentor is titled “what if he hadn’t?” by Ben
Futterman.http://benselablog.blogspot.com/2011/01/what-if-he-hadnt.html His post had questions that bought me more into it. And his first paragraph caught people by including them. Something that I should get better at, because in my posts I just talk about myself. And still he also wrote about himself. Us and him, great post. And I love how he put a certain question in my head, “what if he hadn’t?” made his own theory and I made my own too.

My second
mentor is titled “as if they have control”by Audrey Bachman http://lostinreading.blogspot.com/2010/10/ten-thousand-rupees-1-girl.html. This post if packed with so much personality and meaning, and hate. And I just love how the readers know how Audrey
is feeling. All that shame and hate is completely shown in this book. She does this with repetition. Some people don’t have the power of writing a good post that includes repition that just sounds like it on and on and never stops. But her repetition shows her rage and makes up the whole post.

My last
mentor is “fly away home” by Kai Junn Lathrop. http://mrpancakemix.blogspot.com/2010/10/fly-away-home-mr-pancake-mixs-response.html?showComment=1297207976754#c5740946060745025103His poem is so true. Seems true.
And this true makes the reader love his post. And I love how Kai uses his ideas
and opinions on people who are living in poverty. It seems so true with the
story “fly away home” backing up his opinions. A post so true and voice. It’s a
deep post.

http://www.brooklynmuseum.org/exhibitions/fred_tomaselli/

As he comes to a stop

He watches the wonders

Small shiny rocks

With treasures inside

Rows and rows of trees

The fire breaks free

And up in the sky

Is a strong sun

Lighting and burning

Till can’t look no more

And up ahead it starts to explode

Magic spreads

And he as a bird

completes the beaty of this

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

As he comes to a stop

He watches the wonders

Small shiny rocks

With treasures inside

Rows and rows of trees

The fire breaks free

And up in the sky

Is a strong sun

Lighting and burning

Till can’t look no more

And up ahead it starts to explode

Magic spreads all over

And he as a bird watches this all

All beauty of the world

i am an immmigrant!

Immigrants in Our Own Land

by Jimmy Santiago Baca

We are born with dreams in our
hearts,

looking for better days ahead.

At the gates we are given new
papers,

our old clothes are taken

and we are given overalls like
mechanics wear.

We are given shots and doctors
ask questions.

Then we gather in another room

where counselors orient us to
the new land

we will now live in. We take
tests.

Some of us were craftsmen in
the old world,

good with our hands and proud
of our work.

Others were good with their
heads.

They used common sense like
scholars

use glasses and books to reach
the world.

But most of us didn’t finish
high school.

The old men who have lived
here stare at us,

from deep disturbed eyes,
sulking, retreated.

We pass them as they stand
around idle,

leaning on shovels and rakes
or against walls.

Our expectations are high: in
the old world,

they talked about
rehabilitation,

about being able to finish
school,

and learning an extra good
trade.

But right away we are sent to
work as dishwashers,

to work in fields for three
cents an hour.

The administration says this
is temporary

So we go about our business,
blacks with blacks,

poor whites with poor whites,

chicanos and indians by
themselves.

The administration says this
is right,

no mixing of cultures, let
them stay apart,

like in the old neighborhoods
we came from.

We came here to get away from
false promises,

from dictators in our
neighborhoods,

who wore blue suits and broke
our doors down

when they wanted, arrested us
when they felt like,

swinging clubs and shooting
guns as they pleased.

But it’s no different here.
It’s all concentrated.

The doctors don’t care, our
bodies decay,

our minds deteriorate, we
learn nothing of value.

Our lives don’t get better, we
go down quick.

My cell is crisscrossed with
laundry lines,

my T-shirts, boxer shorts,
socks and pants are drying.

Just like it used to be in my
neighborhood:

from all the tenements laundry
hung window to window.

Across the way Joey is
sticking his hands

through the bars to hand
Felip� a cigarette,

men are hollering back and
forth cell to cell,

saying their sinks don’t work,

or somebody downstairs hollers
angrily

about a toilet overflowing,

or that the heaters don’t
work.

I ask Coyote next door to
shoot me over

a little more soap to finish
my laundry.

I look down and see new
immigrants coming in,

mattresses rolled up and on
their shoulders,

new haircuts and brogan boots,

looking around, each with a
dream in their heart,

thinking they’ll get a chance
to change their lives.

But in the end, some will just
sit around

talking about how good the old
world was.

Some of the younger ones will
become gangsters.

Some will die and others will
go on living

without a soul, a future, or a
reason to live.

Some will make it out of here
with hate in their eyes,

but so very few make it out of
here as human

as they came in, they leave
wondering what good they are now

as they look at their hands so
long away from their tools,

as they look at themselves, so long gone from their families,

so long gone from life itself,
so many things have changed.

 

I guess I chose this poem because it’s something I really
care about. A message that will forever stay inside of me and will follow until
I die. A word I was called since I was four, when I came to the United States. An
immigrant.

And though it hurts to be called an immigrant, I’m
proud of being an Ecuadorian. But because I was not born in this country, I will
never have the same advantage as the people who were born here.  I don’t visit my family back home and it’s
been almost ten years since ill seen my grandma. I practically don’t know how
it feels to have grandparents. To feel their love and touch. And I just watch
my brother go to Ecuador every year. And it hurts a lot to see someone I care go
to Ecuador and not take me. I know I’m jealous.

     But what really touched me in this poem is the sentence “We are born with dreams in our hearts, 

     lookingfor better days ahead. “. The poet right here is looking through the eyes of an
immigrant. Feeling what us immigrants feel. Because people want what’s best for
themselves. We are dreamers and we dream of high education, of a nice home with
a nice roof. We dream of better salaries and a light bulb. And to not walk a
large distance just to get some water. But unlike some people who aren’t
immigrants we the immigrants must work much harder. Since our descendants didn’t
leave a home behind for us or something that would make it easier to go on with
life. And since our descendants didn’t come to the United States for us.

     
we must start from scratch and cross the border.  We must leave our family and friends behind to
accomplish our dream.  We must do what’s
best for our family. We must look forward to a refrigerator full of food and
for good health. We must look forward to better days.

      what bought me and my family to New York was
me. I was sick at that time and my parents didn’t have money to pay a surgery. And
without that surgery I would have died. So my mother came to New York and
worked hard in a restaurant, slowly learning English and getting the money I needed
for the surgery. And once the surgery was over my father thought we should get
a better life. So my father left and I stayed with my grandmother. I was alone
for two years, but I got to go to school. And finally when I was four I came
here. I don’t actually remember anything and hope it stays like that. It would
be much too painful if i get a flashback.

   

      and it’s never easy for immigrants to
cross the border. My dad tried three times finally succeeding on his third try.
My uncle came to the United States too. He was young, 19 years old. When he got
here he had trauma. he had witnessed coyotes rapping women while in the border.
.They have to cross a lot of countries. They have to walk, run, sail and
finally take a plane.   And yet many don’t
succeed.

      And the
last few lines starting from “But in the end…”was surprising too. It’s all true.
The poet knew just what happens at the end. Some have some happiness. For others
it ends badly. When immigrants are finally here they end in poverty. Or hate.
Sometimes even missing the old times. When the place they came from looked much
better than the United States. But happily for me and my family all went well. We
have earned all the money we need to buy a car and during the last ten year we
had built a big house in Ecuador and a store. We even have extra money for
college and vacations. Now we are ready to move on. I am ready to meet my
family once again. And so when I graduate this year were moving back to Ecuador.

   but other people are not going back home. They
have raised children here and sometimes immigrants are afraid of their own
country. Only if they knew what it feels like to be back home. And my aunt is
one of those immigrants, who tries to talk me out of going back home, but all I
could say in my mind is “ I’m ready, I know it, Ecuador is where I belong.

laughter through those tough times

Sold
Sold
Sold into prostitution where life would never be the same. And those dreams you had will never come true. Where you will be trafficked until you aren’t worth it anymore. Until you get a disease or die.  And until your family has forgotten all about you. It’s where happiness was taken away. Where you just feel death is better than this.

And that’s what’s happening to Lakshmi when she was sold by her step father.  Sold! In the book sold by Patricia McCormick.  There are many things I would have loved to write about this book. I could have wrote something big from every paragraph she wrote because she picks such a deep and sophisticated topic that it all makes me learn life some more. And this just stood out.

“How they can eat and laugh and carry on as normal when soon the men will come  is so perplexing that, while they laugh, I fight back tears,”

I didn’t understand why trafficked women from the book will ever learn to laugh again. And act as if things are normal. Nothing is normal. That sure is true. But still these women pretend. They dream as if nothing happens during the night. Like if they are not in that place. As if they have never been touched by a men.

And while those women pretend to have a normal life, Lakshmi can’t get over that she’s trafficked. That this sweet place is not anything sweet just filth of men.  And full of people that she doesn’t understand.

But this book showed me that even though everything is a misery. If everything is hell. There’s still the option of pretending. Because nobody could live without some happiness in life. Nobody could go through this without some friends. Nobody could make it  without some hope.

And this reminds me of another book. I don’t remember its title or anything about it. But this one thing just stayed with me. That even homeless people living in poverty have happiness. They laugh with friends and talk to other people. They need happiness to go on throw this horrible time of life that would hopefully change.

Some women hope to have children because that’s the only happiness in that misery. The kids that would make women go on through this every night.  The women who would do anything for their child. And I guess that this women just want a better future for their children and not for themselves. Because a mother loves her children more than she could say.

And just family or friends make a little laughter go back in life and make you and me go on threw the tough times and fight threw them. Because without pretending we are nothing. In our dreams we are our own queens and kings. But in that place, in that trouble, wrong people see us as nothing.  When truly we are everything.