Please take a minute to visit Dai Tran and Portia Trujillo's new blogs, and read Dai Tran's wonderful post below.
Portfolios are due by 4:00 pm on Thursday, May 6th.
I will be on campus Tuesday and Thursday during our normal class times in my office in Rm. 230 (South Building). If you have any concerns about anything, try to see me either of those days before I enter grades. My gradebook closes at 4:00 on Thursday, May 6.
My mailbox, if you want to just drop it off, is in Rm 313 (South Building).
I look forward to reading them all!
I just want to take a moment to tell you how much I've enjoyed working with you all this semester, watching your writing grow, reading your beautiful, poignant, funny, sad, and deeply honest stories. My hope for you, at the beginning of the semester (if you remember) was that after this class you will have a different kind of appreciation for writing, and that writing will no longer be something scary or awful or boring or whatever but might, just might, be something fun...even a creative outlet you never knew you had. I hope that, at least for some of you, this has become the case.
For those of you who enjoyed this more than you thought you would (smile!), I recommend continuing with your journal, read, read, read, and take a creative writing class. Also check out the literary events around town, meet some other writers, get them to read your work and vice-versa. The second best thing you can do for your writing, besides writing and reading, is to hook up with other aspiring writers and start exchanging work, meet in coffeeshops, bars, parks...I owe much of my writing success to 10 years of an amazing writing group that I originally met through my undergrad.
And for the rest of you, I hope that this class has given you the confidence to tackle the many papers and essays you will have to write in your college career with more gusto and confidence!
Feel free to stay in touch with me! I will continue doing events around town as well (I have another book coming out in June: Fast Forward: The Mix Tape) and I would be happy to keep you updated on release parties and readings and such. And if any of you are in NY in June, I'll be reading there on the 19th. Woohoo.
My hopes for your success!
Nancy
Thursday, April 29, 2010
"The Child Left Behind" by Dai Tran
The weather today is somehow different from other days. The sky is getting darker as the clouds move in. the golden leaves are racing toward the ground from its branches as a breeze blows by, signaling that the summer is over. As the fresh rain of autumn begins to drop, it makes the surrounding outside gloomier than it was. As I walk by the gate that is losing its painted skin, showing its old, rusty yellow self, I can see a chubby four year old boy, Nam, he wearing dirty rags standing alone with his brother.
The noise coming from the motorcycle outside is so loud, it makes the argument among the group of little girls not so far away from me disappear, just like usual, they can’t decided who should be the queen in their childish game. If I’m the king, I will tell them to shut their mouth, and tell them that no one else can pick the queen except the king.
As I look over at Nam, I can see his grumpy face; it look like he does not want to be here, not a bit. Who wouldn’t want to be snoring in bed, instead of going to such a boring place like this in this kind of weather? At least I would.
“What a little kid, his mom must’ve spoiled him.” I say to myself while shaking my head slightly. I can feel that the rain is getting harder as I struggle to get on the yellow, dirty plastic horse.
“Why did they make the horse so tall if they expected a kid to play with it?” I ask myself with an attitude. However, after I get on top of the horse, I felt like the whole world is underneath my feet. When I look over at Nam, I see his brother jumping over the rusty fence that was poorly made and maintained so Nam can’t follow him.
“Bro, where are you going?” He yelled with tears in his eyes.
His brother turns around and looks at Nam with a sad look on his face, maybe a tear or so dangling on the edge of his eyes, just like the scene from the Korean movie that my sister watched last night.
“Take care of yourself, my little brother,” he said softly. “I will miss you a lot.”
“Get away from the fence, you little brat!” yelled the old and drunk security guy. He is so loud, I can hear all the way over here. I look around to see who he’s yelling at, there he is, I found it, It is Nam, he holds the rusty metal sticks that they called a fence as he watches his brother run away into the busy morning street.
“What are you looking at?!” I ask Nam.
“Nothing,” he replies.
“You are not looking at nothing, you are looking at something!” I argue.
He says nothing back, perhaps because he knows that he is wrong and I am right. Of course I am right, I’m always right, that is what my mom told me. Unexpectedly, I spot Nam’s family with all of their stuff packed to go to a place that is really far away from here; a better place with more opportunities and freedom than this poor and communist land. He anxiously waits for the vehicle to get closer so he could see it clearly. No doubt in my mind what I saw was his family, but why? Why won’t they take Nam with them? I bet Nam woulve’ve asked the same question, but he can’t, his mind is busy showering in the sadness.
“Mom, dad, where are you going?!” Nam yells as loud as he could to get his parents’ attention.
“I’m sorry, son,” says his mom with tears in her eyes.
She tries her best to stop the tears from coming out of her eyes, but she can’t. sitting next to her is Nam’s dad, he acts strong in front of his kids, but I can see the tears that he holds inside of him. For a moment, the wind stops blowing, the leaves stop falling and the rain gets heavier as if they are watching this moment.
“Please don’t go mom, I will be a good kid from now on,” Nam yells.
“Take care, my little brother,” says Ty.
His mom can’t say anything else; she couldn’t tell hjim that they are leaving this place forever, and leaving behind everything, including him and his older brothers.
As I walk back into my classroom, I keep asking myself, “who exactly is Nam?” I am Nam. The child left behind.
Surprisingly, I did not cry at all, perhaps because I knew I have to be stronger. I must change to adapt to the completely new life in front of me. When I come home after school today, no one will ask me how my day at school was and what I had learned like my mom used to. I become more mature now; I try not to cry, at least not in front of others.
The noise coming from the motorcycle outside is so loud, it makes the argument among the group of little girls not so far away from me disappear, just like usual, they can’t decided who should be the queen in their childish game. If I’m the king, I will tell them to shut their mouth, and tell them that no one else can pick the queen except the king.
As I look over at Nam, I can see his grumpy face; it look like he does not want to be here, not a bit. Who wouldn’t want to be snoring in bed, instead of going to such a boring place like this in this kind of weather? At least I would.
“What a little kid, his mom must’ve spoiled him.” I say to myself while shaking my head slightly. I can feel that the rain is getting harder as I struggle to get on the yellow, dirty plastic horse.
“Why did they make the horse so tall if they expected a kid to play with it?” I ask myself with an attitude. However, after I get on top of the horse, I felt like the whole world is underneath my feet. When I look over at Nam, I see his brother jumping over the rusty fence that was poorly made and maintained so Nam can’t follow him.
“Bro, where are you going?” He yelled with tears in his eyes.
His brother turns around and looks at Nam with a sad look on his face, maybe a tear or so dangling on the edge of his eyes, just like the scene from the Korean movie that my sister watched last night.
“Take care of yourself, my little brother,” he said softly. “I will miss you a lot.”
“Get away from the fence, you little brat!” yelled the old and drunk security guy. He is so loud, I can hear all the way over here. I look around to see who he’s yelling at, there he is, I found it, It is Nam, he holds the rusty metal sticks that they called a fence as he watches his brother run away into the busy morning street.
“What are you looking at?!” I ask Nam.
“Nothing,” he replies.
“You are not looking at nothing, you are looking at something!” I argue.
He says nothing back, perhaps because he knows that he is wrong and I am right. Of course I am right, I’m always right, that is what my mom told me. Unexpectedly, I spot Nam’s family with all of their stuff packed to go to a place that is really far away from here; a better place with more opportunities and freedom than this poor and communist land. He anxiously waits for the vehicle to get closer so he could see it clearly. No doubt in my mind what I saw was his family, but why? Why won’t they take Nam with them? I bet Nam woulve’ve asked the same question, but he can’t, his mind is busy showering in the sadness.
“Mom, dad, where are you going?!” Nam yells as loud as he could to get his parents’ attention.
“I’m sorry, son,” says his mom with tears in her eyes.
She tries her best to stop the tears from coming out of her eyes, but she can’t. sitting next to her is Nam’s dad, he acts strong in front of his kids, but I can see the tears that he holds inside of him. For a moment, the wind stops blowing, the leaves stop falling and the rain gets heavier as if they are watching this moment.
“Please don’t go mom, I will be a good kid from now on,” Nam yells.
“Take care, my little brother,” says Ty.
His mom can’t say anything else; she couldn’t tell hjim that they are leaving this place forever, and leaving behind everything, including him and his older brothers.
As I walk back into my classroom, I keep asking myself, “who exactly is Nam?” I am Nam. The child left behind.
Surprisingly, I did not cry at all, perhaps because I knew I have to be stronger. I must change to adapt to the completely new life in front of me. When I come home after school today, no one will ask me how my day at school was and what I had learned like my mom used to. I become more mature now; I try not to cry, at least not in front of others.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
April 27, 2010
One more day to go!
Please take some time to read Uwamurera Theopiste's argumentative prompt "Child Without a Father" below.
Thursday: Do Not Forget your journals and your full rough drafts of your portfolios. This will be our last class day, so don't miss!
Journal #25: Write an Intro/Conclusion to your Portfolio
Try your hand at either introducing your collection or concluding your portfolio written to your potential reader.
Here are some videos of Stephen King:
A Stephen King Interview
Stephen King reading at Radio City Music Hall
See you Thursday!
NS
Please take some time to read Uwamurera Theopiste's argumentative prompt "Child Without a Father" below.
Thursday: Do Not Forget your journals and your full rough drafts of your portfolios. This will be our last class day, so don't miss!
Journal #25: Write an Intro/Conclusion to your Portfolio
Try your hand at either introducing your collection or concluding your portfolio written to your potential reader.
Here are some videos of Stephen King:
A Stephen King Interview
Stephen King reading at Radio City Music Hall
See you Thursday!
NS
Monday, April 26, 2010
"Child Without a Father" by Theopiste Uwamurera
I had a conversation with my friend about Catholic priests. My question was: do you think priests should or should not be allowed to have children?
My friend said that priests should be able to get married like other people because they are human beings, and they have feelings as normal people do.
I then said, “Remember that before they decide to be priest, they know that they are normal, but they sacrifice their feelings and the need of having a family because they want to please God.” I continued, “I do not tolerate that priests should be able to have children outside of the church.” I think if a priest is not strong enough to sacrifice his desire, he should quit the priesthood instead of having a child outside the convent.
My friend refuted saying that “If all the priests who have children leave the church, who would give the mass?”
I said, “What a shame to see a priest in front of the people preaching to them how to respect the rules of God, but on the other hand he is giving them a bad example. He is doing what is different with their beliefs.”
I continued, “Many mothers who have children with the priests are ashamed to tell their children who their father is. Do you know how it feels to not know who your father is?”
My friend said, “I know, but a mother does not have another choice because she knows that the church needs a priest, and all the priests who have children support their mothers financially.”
I told her “I respect your ideas, but I disagree with you”. There is no reason to have many priests who are not following the Catholic rules, instead it could be better if we have few priests who are faithful and know what to do.
My friend said that priests should be able to get married like other people because they are human beings, and they have feelings as normal people do.
I then said, “Remember that before they decide to be priest, they know that they are normal, but they sacrifice their feelings and the need of having a family because they want to please God.” I continued, “I do not tolerate that priests should be able to have children outside of the church.” I think if a priest is not strong enough to sacrifice his desire, he should quit the priesthood instead of having a child outside the convent.
My friend refuted saying that “If all the priests who have children leave the church, who would give the mass?”
I said, “What a shame to see a priest in front of the people preaching to them how to respect the rules of God, but on the other hand he is giving them a bad example. He is doing what is different with their beliefs.”
I continued, “Many mothers who have children with the priests are ashamed to tell their children who their father is. Do you know how it feels to not know who your father is?”
My friend said, “I know, but a mother does not have another choice because she knows that the church needs a priest, and all the priests who have children support their mothers financially.”
I told her “I respect your ideas, but I disagree with you”. There is no reason to have many priests who are not following the Catholic rules, instead it could be better if we have few priests who are faithful and know what to do.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
April 22, 2010
Reminders:
All Extra Credit due by class time on Thursday, April 29th.
Journals due April 29th.
Rough Draft Portfolios due April 29th.
Get your writing lab hours done ASAP. I will check them during finals week.
Journal #24: Revisiting your Creative Monster
Go back and reread your initial Creative Monster story--it was the first thing we wrote in this class. You can reread the initial prompt on the blog. I want you to revisit that story--has it changed? Does it have a different ending? Beginning? Is the monster totally different? Is is a dragon you have now slain? Have you sold your soul to it and now have to retrieve it? Whatever it is, write your Creative Monster story again...but better.
Grading for the Final Portfolio:
Rubric for 090 Final Portfolio
18 Possible Points:
(6) Conventions
Presentation:
Cover 1
Table of Contents 1
Grammar and Spelling 4
(5) Essays
Essays strengthened through revision 5
(5) Process Paper 5
Meets the standards of previous essays
including presentation, original thought,
relevance, etc.
(2) Originality/Creativity
Author’s unique voice/style comes through 2
_______________________________________________________
Total: 18
All Extra Credit due by class time on Thursday, April 29th.
Journals due April 29th.
Rough Draft Portfolios due April 29th.
Get your writing lab hours done ASAP. I will check them during finals week.
Journal #24: Revisiting your Creative Monster
Go back and reread your initial Creative Monster story--it was the first thing we wrote in this class. You can reread the initial prompt on the blog. I want you to revisit that story--has it changed? Does it have a different ending? Beginning? Is the monster totally different? Is is a dragon you have now slain? Have you sold your soul to it and now have to retrieve it? Whatever it is, write your Creative Monster story again...but better.
Grading for the Final Portfolio:
Rubric for 090 Final Portfolio
18 Possible Points:
(6) Conventions
Presentation:
Cover 1
Table of Contents 1
Grammar and Spelling 4
(5) Essays
Essays strengthened through revision 5
(5) Process Paper 5
Meets the standards of previous essays
including presentation, original thought,
relevance, etc.
(2) Originality/Creativity
Author’s unique voice/style comes through 2
_______________________________________________________
Total: 18
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
April 20, 2010
Make sure to read Morgan's descriptive essay "Little People" below!
Final drafts of Argumentative Essays due Thursday. Don't forget to attach all workshopping.
Journal #23: Argue Your Grade
Using the principles of argumentation, argue for your grade in this class giving clear, consise points and addressing counterpoints, etc. Or you can argue any aspect of this class.
Final drafts of Argumentative Essays due Thursday. Don't forget to attach all workshopping.
Journal #23: Argue Your Grade
Using the principles of argumentation, argue for your grade in this class giving clear, consise points and addressing counterpoints, etc. Or you can argue any aspect of this class.
Monday, April 19, 2010
"Little Person" by Morgan Speichinger
Today I was sitting on the light on my way to the mall. I wasn’t really planning on doing my assignment on the light rail however this person really inspired me to write about him. The way he moved, talked, acted and showed the rest of the world how he felt. How he does things in this world absolutely equal to the rest of us.
This person in politically correct terms is called a little person. He is a white male about 4 feet 5 inches. He was very small; he had two bags with him, one briefcase and one backpack. I would imagine in his back pack he had things such as work out clothes tennis shoes and a sweat towel. He looked relatively in shape for his stature. I knew he had a brand new MAC laptop in his brief case because he started working on it. In his right had he hand his walking stick that looked like a cane a blind person would use. He used it a lot to get up on the bench and on the train itself. I can tell this man in very independent because he wouldn’t let anyone help him. He had a ring on his finger so I would assume he was married, he seemed like a good family man. He had a nice white and black suit on with black shined shoes and black socks. He seemed like he makes a lot of good money. His watch was a Rolex and it wasn’t flashy, it was more just for the time. I would image he is some sort of business man, maybe In business management. Maybe he is even a CEO of a large company.
I can tell this man has come to agreements with him self and his life and he is going to live with the fact he will never be above 5 foot. I respect him for this life style he is going through. He doesn’t show of his fortune and he wants to be treated like everyone else. He is a very brave man who likes his life the way it is. By the way he was sitting on the train, I could tell if someone went up to him and asked “would you grow taller?” this man would indeed say no. I don’t believe this man gets upset or hurt when anyone looks at him for a longer period of time, or even when little kids ask him what is wrong with him. He thinks he is perfect in his own way. I think some times when he sits on things such as the light rail he does think of what his life would be like in our shoes, a full grown person with regular life’s. It seemed to me at least he was thinking of something of that nature while sitting there. However I still don’t think he would change it for anything in the world. When you spend 40 maybe 50 years in the life style like this, you learn to deal with the everyday issues and obstacles. I think we take our life for granted us full grown people, when clearly there are people out there doing better then us and they are only 4 feet tall.
This person in politically correct terms is called a little person. He is a white male about 4 feet 5 inches. He was very small; he had two bags with him, one briefcase and one backpack. I would imagine in his back pack he had things such as work out clothes tennis shoes and a sweat towel. He looked relatively in shape for his stature. I knew he had a brand new MAC laptop in his brief case because he started working on it. In his right had he hand his walking stick that looked like a cane a blind person would use. He used it a lot to get up on the bench and on the train itself. I can tell this man in very independent because he wouldn’t let anyone help him. He had a ring on his finger so I would assume he was married, he seemed like a good family man. He had a nice white and black suit on with black shined shoes and black socks. He seemed like he makes a lot of good money. His watch was a Rolex and it wasn’t flashy, it was more just for the time. I would image he is some sort of business man, maybe In business management. Maybe he is even a CEO of a large company.
I can tell this man has come to agreements with him self and his life and he is going to live with the fact he will never be above 5 foot. I respect him for this life style he is going through. He doesn’t show of his fortune and he wants to be treated like everyone else. He is a very brave man who likes his life the way it is. By the way he was sitting on the train, I could tell if someone went up to him and asked “would you grow taller?” this man would indeed say no. I don’t believe this man gets upset or hurt when anyone looks at him for a longer period of time, or even when little kids ask him what is wrong with him. He thinks he is perfect in his own way. I think some times when he sits on things such as the light rail he does think of what his life would be like in our shoes, a full grown person with regular life’s. It seemed to me at least he was thinking of something of that nature while sitting there. However I still don’t think he would change it for anything in the world. When you spend 40 maybe 50 years in the life style like this, you learn to deal with the everyday issues and obstacles. I think we take our life for granted us full grown people, when clearly there are people out there doing better then us and they are only 4 feet tall.
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