<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9127874340921544726</id><updated>2012-04-12T14:41:29.456-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Charisse's Blog</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>charisse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07876264189491576509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>72</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9127874340921544726.post-8924721255096238534</id><published>2009-05-29T14:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T15:04:44.775-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To Kill A Mockingbird #7 - Jem Finch</title><content type='html'>Seventh grade had finally started and I'm now in high school. Scout is now in the third grade. I started to see Scout less and we walked together in the mornings, and saw each other sometimes during the mealtimes. Since school started, I am extremely excited to finally play football one day. Right now the coach just gets me to carry water buckets for the team. When I got home, I was pretty tired. Water-carrying makes me worn out. I finished a milk bottle, and stuffed a bunch of bananas. I had so much, I had about twelve. The coach said if I can gain twenty-five pounds by next year, I could probably play football. So I lay down in bed, and Scout came in and asked me a question. She asked me about Mrs. Gates, her teacher, and then started yappin' about how she hated Hitler and then started talking about the courthouse. I got so furious, I just jumped off of the bed and almost choked her. I did not want to hear one word about the courthouse, and anything related to it. I just don't like talking about it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Halloween came by and Scout was in a pageant, and she was a ham. She was stuffed in that costume, and I felt pretty bad for her. I bet she wouldda had no room to breathe and that thing was hard to carry. We headed for the high school and it was pretty dark. I should've brought a flashlight, but I wasn't expecting it to be this dark. When we reached the auditorium, Scout hung out with Cecil, which let me run off to other kids that are my own age. I gave her thirty cents and she ran off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it was time for Scout's performance, she had fallen asleep. She missed her cue of "po-ork" and she ended up running on stage and Judge Taylor and such started laughing. Mrs. Merriweather got mad at Scout, which really hurt her so we had waited backstage until the crowd left. After that, we headed home. I kept hearing a noise and I kept thinking it was Cecil Jacobs trying to scare us again. Scout and I tried calling him, but we heard no reply. If it wasn't Cecil, we didn't know who and where the noises were coming from. We preceded to run and I told Scout to keep running. She couldn't keep her balance, because of her uncomfortable ham costume. Someone was trying to hurt us. It was just too dark to figure out who. I heard the noise of someone trying to suffocate Scout. She was stuck in there, and she got hurt because of the chicken wire of the costume. I couldn't remember anything after that, it all just happened too fast. I awoke from an injury. I had broken my arm, and it hurt pretty badly. We found out that it was Mr. Bob Ewell, and he died. Someone had stabbed a knife under his ribs, and he's gone. I wondered who had killed him, because it was definitely not me. He had tried to follow us, and I was knocked unconscious. When I heal, I don't know how I would be able to play football now.... And it was all because of that case...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9127874340921544726-8924721255096238534?l=charisse-c.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/feeds/8924721255096238534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9127874340921544726&amp;postID=8924721255096238534' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/8924721255096238534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/8924721255096238534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/2009/05/to-kill-mockingbird-7-jem-finch.html' title='To Kill A Mockingbird #7 - Jem Finch'/><author><name>charisse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07876264189491576509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9127874340921544726.post-6281331524304591014</id><published>2009-05-20T20:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T22:00:46.219-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To Kill A Mockingbird #6 - Mayella Ewell</title><content type='html'>The court case started, and I had to come up to the stand to speak. The whole silly town of Maycomb was pretty much there, and I had to do my best to win this case for my father. Several people had testified before me, such as Mr. Heck Tate, the town sheriff, and my father, Bob Ewell. After my father testified, it was my turn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My father started off to the witness stand. He told to the jury of how he was coming in from the woods and heard me screaming in the house. He said that he saw me through the window, and saw Tom Robinson. He also said that the ran into the house and ran for Mr. Heck Tate. Then, Atticus Finch asked him if my father ran for a dctor. And he said no. Atticus was tryna get something outta him, but my father said that he never thought of it, and had never called a doctor in his life, and it would've cost him five dollars. My father also stated that I was beat up, and bruised. They told the jury of how my eye was blackened, and Atticus Finch randomly asked if my father could read and write. Atticus Finch probably thought somethin' &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;stealthy&lt;/span&gt; was goin on. I wondered what Atticus Finch was geting to him, and he proved to the court that he wrote with his left hand. This revealed to the court that my father could've abused me. I was bruised with my right eye, and so since my father is left handed, they could've thought that he beat me up, and is trying to start a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;fraud.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The defense, Atticus Finch, scares me. The poor white guy had to defend a nigger, and I wonder how people reacted  to that. I was extremely nervous and scared to just give my testimony. I started off by swearing the evidence I gave would be the truth, and nothing but the truth. I walked up to the stand as clean as I could be, and they started asking me questions. Mr. Gilmer told me to tell the jury of what happened on November twenty-first, and I started to tell my story. I told Judge Taylor that I was on the front porch, but they kept on throwing in more &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;irrelevant&lt;/span&gt; questions. I couldn't give an answer, so I just burst into tears. I was afraid of what to say, and I didn't want to say the wrong things. I didn't want Atticus Finch to act to me as he did to my father, and give me the same attitude. Atticus Finch started off by asking me hold I was, and I told them how I was 19 and a half. I also told my side of the story, as I was hesitant enough to say so. I said that there was a old chiffarobe in the yard and my father was out in the woods, and Tom Robinson came by. I told the court that I would give Tom Robinson a nickel to bust up the chiffarobe. I said that I was in the house to get him the nickel, and when I truned around, Tom Robinson was on me. I told them that he ran up behind me, and got around the neck and starting cussin' and sayin' dirt.. I told them how I screamed and kicked around, and the more I told this story, I became more confident.  Atticus spoke to me more and started throwin' in more questions, and acted like he was makin' fun of me. He kept callin' me "ma'am" and sayin' "Miss Mayella" to me... The Judge told me how he was really like that and he was being polite... But anyways, Atticus proceeded to ask me more random questions that didn't really relate to the case. I started to tell more about our family's home life. I explained stuff like how my father was a drunk, how when the weather was cold we had to make shoes out of old tires, how I didn't really go to school, and how our family hauled water in buckets. Atticus Finch kept proceedin' to ask me more questions, like how if I loved my father, and such like that. I told the court about my &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;pauper &lt;/span&gt;life. My testimony was pretty ugly, because of makin' me cry and burst out like that. I wondered if the citizens of Maycomb were pretty &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;prejudice&lt;/span&gt; if I was a weak young girl, but I just couldn't answer any more questions, and it was just too much... This trial has been pretty weird so far and I wonder how it'll end up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9127874340921544726-6281331524304591014?l=charisse-c.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/feeds/6281331524304591014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9127874340921544726&amp;postID=6281331524304591014' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/6281331524304591014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/6281331524304591014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/2009/05/to-kill-mockingbird-6.html' title='To Kill A Mockingbird #6 - Mayella Ewell'/><author><name>charisse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07876264189491576509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9127874340921544726.post-3785888574289405736</id><published>2009-05-17T17:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T21:13:34.836-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To Kill A Mockingbird #5 - Aunt Alexandra</title><content type='html'>I waited patiently on the front porch, and Scout and Jem arrived. I arrived to Maycomb for a visit and I believe that Jem and Scout Finch needed a feminine influence in their life. The poor kids lost their mother when they were young, and I think that I could help out in the situation. Jean Louise could become interested in boys and clothes, and she needs a role model in her life. And that would be me. The children really didn't seem to agree with me, but Atticus did. He appreciated my help. I'm doing a favor for this family, you know. These children should be really thankful that they still have me. Atticus' children do not even have well manners. They could learn a thing or two from me. Actually, they could learn everything. I'm pretty disappointed of the two children, they should live up to the Finch's name. They a shame in the Finch family. I asked Atticus to talk to the kids and let them know that they are a Finch, not one of those run-of-the-mill people..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was listening to one of the stories that Jean Louise was telling Atticus. It was about how Calpurnia took the two children to her church. Jean Louise asked Atticus was rape was, and I just sat in a corner and I was quietly sewing. Calpurnia is starting to become close to the children, and I do not allow that. She promised Jean Louise that she could come to her home, and I simply denied the request. Jean Louise acted like a little brat and Atticus is becoming a better father and told her to apologize to me. He wasn't acting like a good enough father, though, and I told him that he should just get rid of Calpurnia. He refused and it just made me furious. He should get rid of the ol' cook, shes not a help at all. Look how Atticus' kids came out, you see my point? Ah, these folks just don't understand how to raise proper children. Even after Atticus talked to the kids, I still find Jem and Scout go into a fight. Even Miss Jean Louise is a girl, it is no way to act as a proper lady. And she was not a proper lady at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A new face arrived to Maycomb, and it was Dill. He was Miss Rachel's nephew, and a friend of Jem and Scout's. After seeing this little boy, I could see where some of Scout's behavior was inhabited from. This boy left his home and ran away three hundred miles. A crazy little boy just ran away like that.. and went all the way to Maycomb to see his little friends. Dill, or well his actual name was Charles, was actually let to stay. Which meant that Scout and Jem had more troubles to face. Raising children is hard...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jem, however, isn't that bad of a boy. He is definetly becoming a gentleman and doesn't have bad behavior unlike little Miss Jean Louise. He doesn't need as much work as Jean Louise does. He is a good role model for Jean Louise, except for the fact that it made her become a tom boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than these two children, Maycomb was pretty welcome to me. Miss Maudie, a neighbor, baked me a Lane cake, which was really nice of her. Miss Rachel let me come over for coffee in the afternoons, and Mr. Nathan Radley came up to the front yard and said that he was glad to see me. The town was so welcoming.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9127874340921544726-3785888574289405736?l=charisse-c.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/feeds/3785888574289405736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9127874340921544726&amp;postID=3785888574289405736' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/3785888574289405736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/3785888574289405736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/2009/05/to-kill-mockingbird-5-aunt-alexandra.html' title='To Kill A Mockingbird #5 - Aunt Alexandra'/><author><name>charisse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07876264189491576509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9127874340921544726.post-3033582103495459895</id><published>2009-05-14T20:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T21:30:56.894-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To Kill A Mockingbird #4 - Atticus</title><content type='html'>As a father, I feel pretty old. I've reached fifty years old, and I wasn't like Jem and Scout's school &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;contemporaries&lt;/span&gt;' fathers. Even though I'm unlike other fathers, I feel that I've been pretty successful as a father, and I hope that my children feel the same. I don't do poker or fish or drink or smoke, nor do i hunt. I'm a pretty simple gentleman who sits in his living room and reads, and could play the Jew's Harp, hah. I'm pretty sure that my children wish that I was like other fathers, who may play football, especially at church. I wish that I could've played with Jem, but I think that I would probably break a bone or break my neck. I just can't put myself in some &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;peril.&lt;/span&gt; I do not want to hurt myself, and I do not want my children to lose another parent. My kids know me pretty well, as a different type of father. One thing, however, I'm sure I pretty surprised my children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Calpurnia had called for me one day furiously. She  called for ol' Tim Johnson, which was a mad dog. I arrived to Cal and my kids as soon as I could with Mr. Heck Tate, the sherriff of Maycomb County. Heck Tate and I searched for Tim Johnson in sight, while other neighbors watched silently, hiding within their homes. The street was silent and dead, and was very &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;inaudible.&lt;/span&gt; Heck Tate just decided to handed the rifle to me and it made me nervous. I didn't want to miss and aim for the Radley house, and I haven't even shot a gun for nearly thirty years. I didn't want to waste a bullet for nothing, and run fear for everyone in the whole town. Scout and Jem watched myself as I carefully aimed for Tim Johnson. He rested in front of the Radley gate and went up the street. I yanked the rifle and shot the dog. After I had shot Tim Johnson, neighbors started to come out and the street was no longer dead. Jem became paralyzed, and he was filled with confusion. I don't really understand why, but I guess he was just disappointed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day, Mrs. Dubose had passed away. She was an old woman who was a neighbor of ours. She was nearly one hundred years old, and was very ill. Jem and Scout passes by her house sometimes, and she would raise her voice and was disrespectful to them. She was &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;cantankerous&lt;/span&gt;, but she was a good woman. Mrs. Henry Lafayette Dubose would tell Jem and Scout nasty and bad things, but I just told Jem to not to let it get to him. I told Jem to hold his head high, and be a gentleman. I thought he would take my advice. To Mrs. Dubose, I acted like a very well gentleman and acted as if nothing was wrong. I would tell her the courthouse news, and and wished for the best for her. I guess I may had surprised Scout for acting like that, but I think that she could learn from this. One day Mrs. Dubose told Jem that I was a nigger-lover. He did not take my advice for acting like a gentleman, and instead he decided to destroy her flowers. Jem used the baton he had bought for Scout and ruined every one of Mrs. Dubose's camellia bushes. As soon as I found out about this, I had to talk to Jem about it. I scared him a bit for getting him in trouble, but he just needed to know that he couldn't act like that to an old lady, especially who was sick. Many people in this town had been getting mad and crazed at the fact that I am simply defending a black man in a case. I told Jem to apologize to Mrs. Dubose, and so I hoped he learned from his lesson. My children do not understand that I would've been a wrong person to not defend Tom Robinson's case, and that other people think that I am wrong, but I simply am not. They need to learn to ignore other people, and they have their own opinons that shouldn't let it get to Scout or Jem. People may say ignorant terms to them, and my kids just simply fight if they hear something bad about them. Many people &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;contradict &lt;/span&gt;the two. There was Francis, and now Mrs. Dubose. I know it may be my fault for their troubles, but I had done the right thing. To pay back to Mrs. Dubose, Jem would go to her house every afternoon after school and Saturdays and read to her our loud for two hours. Jem was scared to do so, but I just told him to act like he was in the Radley Place. Jem and Scout came by to Mrs. Dubose's home and did a good deed for her. About a month later, Mrs. Dubose passed away and died a free woman. She was a morphine addict that her doctor had put her on and suffered alot. She was a pretty brave person, and was a good lady.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9127874340921544726-3033582103495459895?l=charisse-c.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/feeds/3033582103495459895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9127874340921544726&amp;postID=3033582103495459895' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/3033582103495459895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/3033582103495459895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post.html' title='To Kill A Mockingbird #4 - Atticus'/><author><name>charisse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07876264189491576509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9127874340921544726.post-2358899069294252007</id><published>2009-05-11T19:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T21:18:19.032-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To Kill A Mockingbird #3 - Miss Maudie</title><content type='html'>The seasons changed; from autumn to winter, the weather had changed as well. It's been years since snow have appeared in Maycomb. It hasn't been this cold in Maycomb since 1885. The snow really bothers me. The snow messes up my azaleas! The weather might freeze up my precious plants. I wanted something to just warm them up, so I just asked Jem and Scout Finch. The kids didn't have school today, so I called for Jem and Scout Finch to come over. They asked to borrow for some of my snow, and heck, if I could just let the snow not come on my house, I would let it skip my home. The darn snow messes up my plants! But anyways, the two teenyboppers got one of the old peach baskets that were lying around, and they just transfered the snow into their front yard. They ran off and made a snowman or somethin', but Jem Finch took my sunhat! He took my sunhat from my yard and placed it on their snowman. It made me so mad. Kids nowadays.. Especially Aticus Finchs'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning I was awoken by smoke in my home. I came out at about six o'clock in the morning, and I felt pretty frozen like ice. Fire spat out from my dining room windows. Oh my, it was about time that my house burned down. I've been waiting for this to happen for a really long time, but I was afraid that I would've gotten in trouble or something. All of the citizens of Maycomb gathered around and watched my house. The men of Maycomb took furniture from my home to some other yard across the street. Even Nathan Radley was helping out. Dick Avery's face appeared in an upstairs window, and he was stuck.. People were shouting for him to come out. He crossed the upstairs porch and swung his legs over the railing. He slid down a pillar and fell onto my shubbery. That man almost lost it... And then the fire started to spread out and knock out the roof. It ate the second floor and the window frames turned black. Men were working their way to make the fire  stop, and they stopped moving the furniture. I stood next to Atticus within a group of neighbors. People became pumping water and water shot out everywhere especially the Finch's home and Rachel's. . People worked in pajama pants and in the early morning. Even though a fire was nearby, it was pretty darn cold. People were in long coats and bathrobes and it was a unexpected situation. I watched as my home finally burst into flames. I bet the kids were cold, but Scout had oddly appeared with a blanket on her back. She wasn't even sure of where the blanket had came from, and it was weird because all the men in Maycomb were helping out in the fire.. The blanket had appeared on her back, and Atticus said that it must've been Boo Radley. I guess after the lil kids games, they finally got him to come out... and they didn't realize it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I didn't really like my home anyways. I was in relief, yet I didn't know what was going to happen next. I guess I'll stay with Rachel or Stephanie for now, but who knows where I'll end up next. My home had fire gushed everywhere and I watched it burn down. There was a smoking black hole in my yard. I was relieved, yet it was pretty tragic. I wasn't exactly in the mood to talk to anyone.  It was now almost Christmas. And I'm pretty excited.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9127874340921544726-2358899069294252007?l=charisse-c.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/feeds/2358899069294252007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9127874340921544726&amp;postID=2358899069294252007' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/2358899069294252007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/2358899069294252007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/2009/05/to-kill-mockingbird-3-miss-mautie.html' title='To Kill A Mockingbird #3 - Miss Maudie'/><author><name>charisse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07876264189491576509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9127874340921544726.post-7573119237537872676</id><published>2009-05-10T16:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T17:44:39.198-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To Kill A Mockingbird #2 - Jem</title><content type='html'>I got home from school today and Scout finds Wrigley’s Double-Mint gum. She found it in a tree… gross. But it wasn’t just any tree, it was at the Radley Place! She just picked it up and chewed it! She could’ve gotten killed or something! So Scout took me to the place where she found the gum, and we found another tiny little package. It was two Indian-heads pennies. They were really old and valuable. It was packed in one of those small velvet packages where you keep rings and other jewelry. Scout and I didn’t really know what to do with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since summer was finally here, Dill came back from Mississippi. With all our freedom, we really couldn’t find anything to do this summer. Dill looked over at the Radley Place and said he smelled death. He acted like he believed in Hot Steams. As bored as we were, Scout was in the tire and I shoved her down the road with all the force that I could apply. She landed in the Radley Place which frightened me. She wouldn’t get up and she couldn’t get out of there as fast as she could. Scout had left the tire there. It was time for our summertime ritual—lemonade time. And then I figured out what we were gonna play. I gave out roles of Scout being with Mrs. Radley and Dill was Mr. Radley. We played Boo Radley. Over the summer, we continued to play Boo Radley. One day, Atticus caught us playing and asked us if we were doing something that had to do with the Radleys. I panicked. I lied and said that we weren’t, but I’m not sure about playing Boo Radley anymore. Atticus didn’t want us to play this game, so was it safe? &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;The &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;evasion &lt;/span&gt;of the situtation stopped us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent the summer hanging with Dill. Sometimes we would play in the tree house and we had fun times together. Sometimes Scout with be with us, but most of the time she was always with Miss Muadie Atkinson, who is a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;chameleon&lt;/span&gt; lady. Dill and I tried to plan a way to give Boo Radley a note. We want him to come out. Dill and I were pretty &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;unanimous&lt;/span&gt; about our plan, and we would put the note on the end of a fishing pole and stick it through the shutters. Scout tried to butt into our plan, and if she wanted to know what was going on, she would have to be in it. I forced her into the plan and she called us crazy. But whatever, we did it anyways. I attached the note to the end of the fishing pole, placed it across the yard and struggled to push it onto the window. The fishing pole was short several inches and I couldn’t get the note off the fishing pole. Dill started ringing the bell and before I knew it, Atticus appeared. Atticus told us to stop &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;tormenting&lt;/span&gt; the man, and Atticus’ &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;tyranny&lt;/span&gt; made me not wanna be a lawyer no more. I didn't want to keep &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;quibbiling &lt;/span&gt;with my father, but Atticus didn’t stop us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it was Dill’s last day in Maycomb, Dill and I decided to go and peak through a window at the Radley place for one last time. Our &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;malignant &lt;/span&gt;scheme made Scout to not leave us alone, and she kept actin’ like a little brat. She ended up joining us anyways at night and we quietly tried to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;teeter&lt;/span&gt; through the Radley house. We then see a man with a shadow wearing a hat. I put my arms over my head and the shadow was close to me. We quickly tried to escape. My pants had gotten stuck in the fence, and I tried kicking my pants off to escape. I had to run out with my shorts on. A shotgun had gone off, and as we came back, Miss Maudie told us that Mr. Radley shot at a Negro in his yard. I panicked and Atticus had asked me where my pants went. Dill had saved me and said that we were playing strip poker and Dill had won them. I later snuck out, and tried to get my pants back.  What a crazy summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jem&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9127874340921544726-7573119237537872676?l=charisse-c.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/feeds/7573119237537872676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9127874340921544726&amp;postID=7573119237537872676' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/7573119237537872676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/7573119237537872676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-got-home-from-school-today-and-scout.html' title='To Kill A Mockingbird #2 - Jem'/><author><name>charisse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07876264189491576509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9127874340921544726.post-4534576216019230610</id><published>2009-05-03T15:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T17:29:00.840-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To Kill A Mockingbird #1 - Scout</title><content type='html'>I can't believe that summer already ended. I'm going to miss playing with Dill and his eccentric mind. Dill left his Aunt's house to the town of Meridian. It made me really sad to see him gone. I'm also going to miss playing with Jem too. He doesn't even want to talk to me at school. He just wants me to leave him alone.  Dill, Jem, and I had interesting summer days. One day, Dill dared Jem to go and touch the Radley Place. Boo Radley was one I can't believe that summer already ended. I'm going to miss playing with Dill and his eccentricmaleovent human who lived in that house. It seemed pretty intimidating but Jem did the dare anyways. For some reason, Dill thought that house was so fascinating.  I have never seen Boo Radley before nor either has Jem. I’ve heard crazy and weird stories about that Radley Place. Dill wants Boo Radley to come out. I got pretty scared for Jem because I wondered what would happen if Boo Radley would pop up out of nowhere. What if Boo Radley was going to go out to get us?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School started and I despise it. I actually was really looking forward on going to school. Jem even &lt;span&gt;condesended&lt;/span&gt; me to school that day which was pretty odd of him. Atticus should have taken me, but I guess Atticus bribed Jem to take me. My teacher, Miss Caroline Fisher, is one horrible teacher. She was a pretty woman who was pretty young. She wasn’t any older than 21. Even Jem was pretty amazed by her. Miss Caroline was from North Alabama and she went to college. Supposedly she’s trying to teach some new way of reading…  I don’t think that’s working very well. Miss Caroline told me that Atticus shouldn’t teach me anymore about reading. Atticus doesn’t even teach me anything, it was all Calpurnia! Calpurnia taught me how to read and write. Miss Caroline made me so irked about knowing how to read. I’ve been reading ever since I was born, and Miss Caroline can’t just tell me to not read. It’s like saying to stop breathing. School was pretty boring so I even tried to write Dill a letter. I missed Dill. Miss Caroline caught me writing a letter and told me that I won’t learn to write until I’m in the third grade. Maybe I should just get sent to the third grade then!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miss Caroline is so silly. She doesn’t really know anything about Maycomb. She offered Walter Cunningham money for lunch since he didn’t have any. He’s a Cunningham! She should know that they don’t borrow what they can’t pay back. I tried telling some sense into Miss Caroline, but she just wouldn’t listen to me. The Cunninghams didn’t really have much money and Miss Caroline didn’t really understand how they were. She didn’t understand anybody. Miss Caroline even whipped me; I guess that’s how I’m going to spend my schoolyear.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9127874340921544726-4534576216019230610?l=charisse-c.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/feeds/4534576216019230610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9127874340921544726&amp;postID=4534576216019230610' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/4534576216019230610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/4534576216019230610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/2009/05/to-kill-mockingbird-1.html' title='To Kill A Mockingbird #1 - Scout'/><author><name>charisse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07876264189491576509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9127874340921544726.post-3433176106018382951</id><published>2009-03-29T15:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T15:56:18.916-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Immigration Project Reflection</title><content type='html'>In this Immigration unit, I read the two books: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Circuit &amp;amp; Breaking Through&lt;/span&gt; written by Francisco Jimenez. I felt that this book was quite interesting because it taught me more about immigration. I wasn't exactly satisfied with my book at first. I thought that it wouldn't be as great to read 2 books, but after reading the book, I'm quite glad with my book choice. The two books weren't that boring and it gave me a new perspective on immigration. Something that I learned from the two books was how immigrants were treated and how they lived. These books show different races were treated and how that changed over time. I think that the LC process is currently fine as it is, and there wouldn't be anything that I would like to change. I think that blogging is more efficient rather than writing. I think this because when you're writing, you don't really write the whole idea down. Blogging is also more interesting because you can hear other thoughts from other students as well. The only problem with this blogging experience is that other group members would not do a blog post, which affects the other group members. I think that sometimes other people would interpret the book a different way and it is interesting to read their opinions. Sometimes they wouldn't go in depth into the book and they wouldn't understand that scene as well, which gets confusing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was kind of difficult for me to choose what I should do for my painting. The scene that popped into my head when I first received the assignment was when Francisco &amp;amp; his family got caught by the border patrol. The only problem with this scene was how to interpret it. When you first look at the painting, you wouldn't exactly know what the scene is and how it is significant to the book. The painting is more understandable if you had read the book. I felt that my painting turned out fine, and the only problem was capturing the detail in this picture. I think that I should have chose my other choice for the painting because it would've been easier and simpler to paint. I think that if I chose the other choice, my painting would look better. From this experience, I think that painting is a different way to reflection on a novel. It is a simple way to reflect on the book instead of writing about the book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The interview process was smooth and kind of difficult. It was kind of hard to communicate with my participant because he had a busy schedule. I think that interviewing the participant 3 times made me feel like I was bothering the person a lot. It was kind of helpful because then I would have more follow-up questions the next time I had an interview. I think that 2 interviews would've been better, because through e-mail was kind of difficult for people who don't really check their email. You would have to call the person to tell them to check the e-mail, when you could have just done it over the phone. Something unique that I learned was that my participant was placed in a refugee camp in Thailand in order to America. I've always thought that you could just hop on a plane and get here, but there is a longer process in order to immigrate here. I also learned that since his father was a high-rank officer in Laos, his family was not safe and the communists felt that his father was a threat. I thought that this was interesting because things like that actually did happen and wasn't made up. His father was caught and placed in a underground camp where he was paralyzed waist-down, and barely saw sunlight for 9 years. I think that having the opportunity to interview a immigrant helped me understand immigration more. It helped me see immigration in a real point of view, in person. It wasn't through a book or through a painting, but it was coming out of a person who experienced immigration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In conclusion, this immigration unit taught me a whole lot about immigration and gave me a whole new point of view on immigrants. I got to experience reading someone's perspective on immigration, go through an interview process, learn more about immigration on a in-person POV,  and even express and reflect on a novel through art. I enjoyed this unit pretty well and it was valuable to learning.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9127874340921544726-3433176106018382951?l=charisse-c.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/feeds/3433176106018382951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9127874340921544726&amp;postID=3433176106018382951' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/3433176106018382951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/3433176106018382951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/2009/03/immigration-project-reflection.html' title='Immigration Project Reflection'/><author><name>charisse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07876264189491576509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9127874340921544726.post-2791103416958452592</id><published>2009-03-13T14:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T18:05:02.133-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Circuit &amp; Breaking Through Book Review</title><content type='html'>The Circuit and Breaking Through by Francisco Jimenez are two inspiring books. These books are a collection of stories about Francisco's childhood as a migrant child.  They come from Guadalajara, Mexico to California for a better life. His family faces poverty and discrimination in America and struggle to live as a big family. The family moves a lot for work which causes Francisco to not stay in school as much. Francisco and his family face a new life--trying to fit in and learn a new language. They work extremely hard for very little money, such as a janitor job that only pays $1.25 an hour(minimum wage at the time). Even though they were a very poor family, they made the best of their situation and still was a caring family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The two books are stories of Francisco's life. One of my favorite stories within the two books was when Francisco goes to visit colleges and gets accepted. I liked this story because it shows that you can achieve anything as long as you can put your mind to it. It didn't matter that Francisco was a poor kid and he&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://scholar.lib.vt.edu/ejournals/ALAN/v32n1/images/carlile.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 168px; height: 231px;" src="http://scholar.lib.vt.edu/ejournals/ALAN/v32n1/images/carlile.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; actually made it to college even though it was costly. He was able to receive scholarships and made more opportunities in America rather than he may had back in Mexico. Francisco made a good future in America which helped me realize why many immigrants are coming to America.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Francisco Jimenez writes with detail and feeling. You can feel how difficult their life was and the book really motivates you to enjoy life. Francisco Jimenez helps you understand the situation well and really captures how Mexican illegal immigrants felt when they came to this country. For living in San Diego, I never really knew why illegal immigrants came here until after reading this book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first book is mainly about Francisco's family, while the second is about Francisco and his life through school. Personally, I enjoyed Breaking Through more because I could relate to some of the stories and I thought that the stories were more interesting than the other book. One of the things that I really liked was the growth of Francisco's character. Throughout the book, you would see Francisco become more responsible and a leader. He becomes someone in the new country and makes a difference, especially at school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recommend these two books to everyone especially for kids ages 7-18, and if you would like to learn more about Mexican immigrants. In these books, the family are very grateful for every little thing that they had compared to other kids who may take many things for granted. The family made many sacrifices and didn't complain as much. They also took that the opportunities that they had in this country to succeed. These two books definitely make you appreciate every thing that you have.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9127874340921544726-2791103416958452592?l=charisse-c.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/feeds/2791103416958452592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9127874340921544726&amp;postID=2791103416958452592' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/2791103416958452592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/2791103416958452592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/2009/03/circuit-breaking-through-book-review.html' title='The Circuit &amp; Breaking Through Book Review'/><author><name>charisse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07876264189491576509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9127874340921544726.post-3866393415745290367</id><published>2009-03-11T17:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T17:33:22.368-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Breaking Through by Francisco Jimenez</title><content type='html'>"I hear college is really hard", I said, remembering how anxious I felt when Ms. Taylor, my social studies teacher, told the class how difficult college was compared to high school." - Francisco, pg 115&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could relate to Francisco, because people make college sound really difficult and stressful. I always wonder if its really that hard or not. I wonder if you're really well prepared in high school, that it wouldn't be that hard. I think that for Francisco it wouldn't be that difficult because he doesn't have that much of a hard time at school, besides for reading. I think that this is part of the reason why Francisco went to America, so that they have a better future, and I think that Francisco would have a good future by going to college.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think what Francisco heard, he believed it and got scared from that. It made him more hesitant about college and it made him think that he wouldn't do so well. Since Mr. Kinkade was a guidance counselor, I think that he probably just does that to encourage students that they can go to college and do well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you think that college is difficult?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is a very special christmas, mijo," Mama said excitedly, clasping her hands. "This afternoon the Salvation Army brought us a huge box full of groceries. God is truly watching over us." - Mama, page 121&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that this quote shows how poor the family is. The Salvation Army donated to very poor families, and the Jimenez' were one of them. Mama was very thankful to have the groceries.  It helped them survive better in America by helping them save more money, which meant a lot for them. I wondered if Francisco eventually told Mama that it was from his school and that it was his idea for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This quote also shows how good Francisco's character is. Francisco's idea had a impact on many families, especially his. It made their Christmas much better. He wasn't selfish and gave out to the poor. It helped his family out and it was all because of Franisco. I think that it was also odd that it was someone from another country that helped people within the country, rather than the people who were born and raised there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After reading this book, did it give you more respect for very poor families?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9127874340921544726-3866393415745290367?l=charisse-c.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/feeds/3866393415745290367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9127874340921544726&amp;postID=3866393415745290367' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/3866393415745290367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/3866393415745290367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/2009/03/breaking-through-by-francisco-jimenez_11.html' title='Breaking Through by Francisco Jimenez'/><author><name>charisse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07876264189491576509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9127874340921544726.post-5550102359127855953</id><published>2009-03-05T20:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T20:40:54.698-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Breaking Through by Francisco Jimenez</title><content type='html'>"What about working for me on weekends? I can pay you $1.25 an hour." Mike Nevel, pg 86&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought that this was the hardships that the characters faced. I thought that it was really sad for them to live in America especially when they don't have enough money. They could take any job that they could possibly get, and receiving $1.25 an hour was extremely little. I wondered how much money that they needed to spend for groceries and rent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that Francisco spent a lot of money on the typewriter because he gave him $5 for it when it would take him several hours to pay for it. I think that he could've just took it even though they didn't have any money for it at all. I thought that it was really weird because they find other things such as baby clothes and tennis shoes in the dumpster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you were in their position would you have taken the typewriter for school purposes? Or would you have left it so you wouldn't have to pay?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Her father even promised her to buy a car if she stopped seeing me. Can you believe that?" Roberto, pg 107&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought that this was a hardship that Roberto faced because he was discriminated and I thought that it was really sad. I don't understand why Susan's parents did not want her to see Roberto. I don't get what they had against Mexicans. I thought that it was weird and that it reminded me of Romeo and Juliet, except I wondered what Roberto's parents would've thought about that. I thought that Roberto and Susan would've probably gotten married or something, but I guess she just moved on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you think Susan's parents not like about Mexicans?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9127874340921544726-5550102359127855953?l=charisse-c.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/feeds/5550102359127855953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9127874340921544726&amp;postID=5550102359127855953' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/5550102359127855953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/5550102359127855953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/2009/03/breaking-through-by-francisco-jimenez_05.html' title='Breaking Through by Francisco Jimenez'/><author><name>charisse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07876264189491576509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9127874340921544726.post-7493333934438454918</id><published>2009-03-01T17:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T17:15:40.242-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Breaking Through by Francisco Jimenez</title><content type='html'>"From that day on, Papa's spirits began to die too. His moods changed from day to day. He began to complain about his back and got angry about everything and everyone" page 53&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was one of the challenges that Papa faced when living in America.  I thought that he was starting to get sick and die soon. In the first book Papa seems caring and funny, and in this chapter he is angry and irritant. His sickness really changes his character and I wondered how the rest of the family felt about that. If I was Francisco I would be annoyed, worried, and scared of Papa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could relate to Papa, because when your back hurts you get very irritant and nervous. It's a strange mood, but since Papa gets extremely angry, you can tell that the pain must be really bad, and he must be really sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So did the family get sent back to Mexico then went back to America? I didn't understand that part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;""You can't wear that t-shirt, mijo, Mama cried out. "It's yellow-ish and frayed." -Mama, page 58&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Francisco had to wear something nice for his 8th grade graduation, but he only had a yellow-ish shirt that was frayed. I think that this shows how poor the family was. They couldn't really buy a nice shirt since they didn't have the money. Francisco's only choice was to wear a bigger shirt that didn't fit him as well. Francisco could've worn a collared shirt, but I'm guessing that he didn't have one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that Francisco was also hesitant about the t-shirt, because many other boys wore a white collared shirt. He was glad that his friend was wearing a t-shirt too, but I don't think it's dressy for a junior high graduation. I think that Francisco could've saved up money for a nice shirt for that occasion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why couldn't Francisco's Mama and Papa go to his graduation?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9127874340921544726-7493333934438454918?l=charisse-c.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/feeds/7493333934438454918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9127874340921544726&amp;postID=7493333934438454918' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/7493333934438454918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/7493333934438454918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/2009/03/breaking-through-by-francisco-jimenez.html' title='Breaking Through by Francisco Jimenez'/><author><name>charisse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07876264189491576509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9127874340921544726.post-7048617398348422730</id><published>2009-02-25T20:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T20:56:00.407-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Circuit by Francisco Jimenez #3</title><content type='html'>"I reached underneath the front seat and pulled out my penny collection, which I kept in a small, white cardboard box." page 97, Francisco.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought that this was interesting, because even though Francisco was very poor, he still collected pennies for a collection. I think that he could have used these pennies for food or something; but they pennies may be very valuable later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can relate to Francisco, because I like to collect things as well. I like to collect the quarters that has different states on them. I was also surprised because the pennies are really valuable now. An 1865 indian head penny (the one that Francisco said he had) is worth about $20 now, and I wonder if he still has that collection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you think that Francisco was ashamed of where he had lived?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I am useless; I can't work; I can't feed my family; I can't even protect you from la migra." page 116, Papa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought that this was pretty sad because the family works hard for their money, and one less worker would have less money. I felt bad for him because he works extremely hard for the family and helped them get all the way to America, but now he's getting weak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that Papa might die soon; it seems like he's getting weaker. I think that it would be difficult to live without him, because he is the one who brought them to America, and brings the family together. Papa also brings more delight and jokes to the family and seems like a happy person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you think that the Papa might die soon?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9127874340921544726-7048617398348422730?l=charisse-c.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/feeds/7048617398348422730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9127874340921544726&amp;postID=7048617398348422730' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/7048617398348422730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/7048617398348422730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/2009/02/circuit-by-francisco-jimenez-3.html' title='The Circuit by Francisco Jimenez #3'/><author><name>charisse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07876264189491576509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9127874340921544726.post-5154723473552359737</id><published>2009-02-20T17:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T18:43:58.979-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Circuit by Francisco Jimenez #2</title><content type='html'>"I was paying attention to Miss Scalapino, I was so embarrassed. I laid my head on top of my desk and closed my eyes...........I wanted to  fall asleep and wake up to find it was only a dream." Francisco, pg 23&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was a hardship for Francisco as he lived in America. I wondered how it felt like just in a classroom learning something, but you can't learn it since you don't understand it. I would feel so confused hearing someone and I can't understand them; it's as if I don't have ears and I wouldn't be able to hear anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that Francisco needs a translator, and try to learn English more. I don't understand how the teacher does not want Francisco to speak Spanish. I don't get how he should only speak English when he doesn't even know it. I think that she should at least try to teach him or help him out... I think that he should learn English especially since he's living in America now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you were in Francisco's position, how would you handle his situtation?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The contrastista walked up to Gabriel and yelled in his face, "Well this isn't your country, idiot! You either do what I say or I'll have you fired!""&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The "contrastista" was cruel to the workers. I thought that it was really mean and hard for them. I think that it was already bad enough for them to be working hard for their money, and the immigrant families already had a difficult life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wondered how it felt to be in that position. They only send few dollars and right now in America, several dollars wouldn't help that much. I think that it was really difficult for the family back then but they seem fine. I also wondered how the families did not get caught for being illegal immigrants. I think that you could of somewhat suspected it especially since they didn't understand English as much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you think that Francisco's father still "sparkled" his eyes when he's living in California now? Or do you think they're still living the same as they were in Mexico?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9127874340921544726-5154723473552359737?l=charisse-c.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/feeds/5154723473552359737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9127874340921544726&amp;postID=5154723473552359737' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/5154723473552359737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/5154723473552359737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/2009/02/circuit-by-francisco-jimenez-2.html' title='The Circuit by Francisco Jimenez #2'/><author><name>charisse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07876264189491576509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9127874340921544726.post-6268444304169609880</id><published>2009-02-16T19:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T17:14:56.565-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Circuit</title><content type='html'>"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Yes, they caught us," I repeated. I had never seen my brother so sad. Angry, I added in a whisper, "But it took them ten years."&lt;/span&gt;" -Francisco, pg 4&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This relates to one of the questions because it was how Americans treated the characters; they got caught of being in America and they just took them away and sent them to wherever. I think that it was sad that someone turned them in after a while and I would feel betrayed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that it was surprising how the family got caught and it made me wonder how I would feel if I got caught being a illegal immigrant, on a random day. I think that it was weird that they got caught after ten years.. I wondered if anyone at least suspected they were immigrants. I would've been adapted to the lifestyle for within ten years and it would suck if I would have to go back to the home country and come back and face how it used to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: What could have been a reason that someone would want to turn in Francisco and his family?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;During the night we dug a hole underneath the wire wall and wiggled like snakes under it to the other side."&lt;/span&gt; pg 1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This relates to the question of how they came to America; they had to sneak in and be careful after a long, 2-day journey. It must have been weird to settle to a new place and had to sneak in. I tried to picture how they would've came through a hole and had to dig for in order to get here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought that part of the journey reminded me of what people do now a days to get here to America. I wondered how they didn't get caught. I thought that it was weird that it was what they had to do, but in a way they had to do it because they wanted to escape poverty and have a better life. I found it surprising that this is what people do to escape from their old life to a new one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why couldn't the family just come to America legally?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9127874340921544726-6268444304169609880?l=charisse-c.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/feeds/6268444304169609880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9127874340921544726&amp;postID=6268444304169609880' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/6268444304169609880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/6268444304169609880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/2009/02/circuit.html' title='The Circuit'/><author><name>charisse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07876264189491576509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9127874340921544726.post-1928010073682313456</id><published>2009-02-13T17:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T18:16:16.795-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Field Trip Reflection</title><content type='html'>Part I: From Haven To Home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this exhibit it shows the history of the Jewish and how they made an impact in America. I learned many things about Jewish history. There was about 350 years of  Jewish history and about 23 Jewish people first immigrated to New York, or 'New Amsterdam' in 1654. The Jewish have been struggling for freedom and rights and they came from Russia, Romania, and Austria. They were fleeing from religious persecution, grinding poverty, and violent attacks. The Jewish first came and they worked in poorly paid industries such as clothing factories and cigarette manufacturers. They were crowded into small homes and lived a hard life in America. An interesting thing that I learned was that 20,000 Jewish women boycotted a kosher meat shop. They did this because it was twice the price of regular meat--9 cents for non kosher and 18 cents for kosher. I thought that this was interesting because it was a lot of women that boycotted and I found this surprising. I also learned that the Jewish kind of started on Las Vegas, and that makes a big impact to America. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part II: Children of Immigrants&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photograph: This image that I chose was two little boys on one of those mini-rides in Chinatown in New York. The two little boys seemed like siblings and the younger sibling stuck to the older one. One of the boys were looking at the camera and another was waving at it. I thought that it was interesting because I could relate having to go on one of those mini rides.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quote: "If we have stayed in Bonsia we would have probably been killed. Although none of us can predict the future, just imagine a seven-year old child wondering if he would be killed the next day or spared in this world we call home." - Denis Tuzinovi, Bonsia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought that this quote was interesting because I tried to picture in my head a seven year old. It was difficult to imagine this since it's pretty cruel and scary. The quote portrays how difficult it would've been on Bonsia. I think that if I was seven and was wondering if I would've been killed the next day, I would have nightmares. This quote also says, 'in this world we call home'. I think that this means that the world could be mean and cruel but this is how we live.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9127874340921544726-1928010073682313456?l=charisse-c.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/feeds/1928010073682313456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9127874340921544726&amp;postID=1928010073682313456' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/1928010073682313456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/1928010073682313456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/2009/02/field-trip-reflection.html' title='Field Trip Reflection'/><author><name>charisse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07876264189491576509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9127874340921544726.post-1330593554173260986</id><published>2009-02-08T18:29:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T18:36:23.705-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Immigration</title><content type='html'>An immigrant is a person who settles in another country where they were not born there. An immigrant would want to leave their home country because they would like to have a new opportunity in a different country. An immigrant may not like it in their country, and think that they would have a better life in another one. Many immigrants come to America because we have freedom and our own rights. Our country gives many rights such as freedom in religion. We have the right to practice a religion for what we believe in. There are also more job opportunities here and a chance for a better life than somewhere else.  Our country has a more easier life of living. In different countries, you may have to hunt for your food. In this country, we could just buy food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The US has really been affected with immigration. Since a lot of people from different countries would want to live in America, it really makes this country really diverse. Different types of cultures are everywhere—there are a wide variety of foods to try and different traditions. There are many different languages to learn and also different religions. Since many people want to come to America, then others would try to sneak in and come here illegally. This has caused many problems with immigration which resulted to have strict rules for coming here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life has been affected by immigration because my parents came to America from the Philippines. If my parents didn't come here, then I would probably be living in the Philippines, or I wouldn't be alive at all. Most of my family has immigrated from the Philippines and came to America for a better living and especially jobs. Some of my relatives came here to join the navy and wanted to be with family in this country. Immigration has really affected my life for the better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9127874340921544726-1330593554173260986?l=charisse-c.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/feeds/1330593554173260986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9127874340921544726&amp;postID=1330593554173260986' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/1330593554173260986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/1330593554173260986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/2009/02/immigrant-is-person-who-settles-in.html' title='Immigration'/><author><name>charisse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07876264189491576509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9127874340921544726.post-4077381931693655036</id><published>2009-01-16T09:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-16T09:38:06.095-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Color of Water</title><content type='html'>The Color of Water is a book written by James McBride. This book is a memoir for his mother who raised 12 children.  James' mother, Ruth, is a "light-skinned" daughter of an Orthodox rabbi and her family immigrated from Poland to a small town in Virginia. The story retraces his mother's footsteps who abandoned her family because of her husband—an African American minister. James has always wondered about the rest of his family and who his identity was. As he grew up, he learned that his mother is a different color. His family faced racism yet his mother never admitted that she was white. McBride also talks about his childhood and as he grew up; he was an interracial child who was poor, but his mother commanded a lot from her children. She expected good grades from them and managed to send all 12 children to college. Her children ranged from doctors, to writers, and to professors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Ruth, or otherwise known as Rachel, is a character that is strong and a great mother. She loved a black man even though her parents despised black people. Her parents stopped caring for her and didn't love her anymore. They wanted Ruth to stay out of their lives. Ruth didn't care what color people were. She really didn't care what others thought of her and she just ignored them. People would give her comments for being with black children, but the comments didn't get to her.   I felt bad of how Ruth's parents didn't love her anymore because of her marriage. Though in this story you can tell that James really loves his mother no matter what color she was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; This book is a inspiring memoir; it shows the hardships and love that the family had. The family went through a lot of things. McBride's father and step-father died and left Ruth to take care of her twelve black children. James dealt with shoplifting, bad grades, doing drugs and creating&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.offenburger.com/images/McBrideAndMother.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 246px; height: 204px;" src="http://www.offenburger.com/images/McBrideAndMother.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; violence because of his fathers' death. The book jumps around though which left me confused at times. One moment he was talking about leaving for college and the next it was Thanksgiving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The author switches off chapters between him and his mother. At first I thought it was the same person, but it turns out to be two different stories—one with his mother dealing with childhood and adult life and another with McBride's memories growing up. I thought it was kind of confusing at first, but then I kept reading it and it started to make more sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  This book is long but worth reading if you have the patience. It's a nice book to read especially to learn about cruel racism was and how James tried to find his true identity. This book is a inspiring American story and I recommend it to anyone especially teenagers that would like to learn about racial issues, life lessons, and finding yourself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9127874340921544726-4077381931693655036?l=charisse-c.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/feeds/4077381931693655036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9127874340921544726&amp;postID=4077381931693655036' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/4077381931693655036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/4077381931693655036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/2009/01/color-of-water.html' title='The Color of Water'/><author><name>charisse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07876264189491576509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9127874340921544726.post-3687033339261562596</id><published>2008-12-10T09:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-14T15:04:40.361-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ashes of Roses by Mary Jane Auch</title><content type='html'>Ashes of Roses&lt;br /&gt;by Mary Jane Auch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16 year old Rose Nolan and her Irish family arrive to America by a ship with high hopes and searching for a better life than back home. Her hopes are crushed when part of her family is sent back home. Her young brother, Joseph, is forced back home because of a disease, trachoma, which is an eye infection. Her father escorted him back to Ireland. After a few weeks of living in America, their mother gave up and went back to Ireland. Rose and Maureen refused to go back with their mother, so they demanded to stay in New York. Rose is stuck in New York with her younger sister Maureen, a stubborn child who later becomes into a more mature, independent young girl. The two sisters struggle to survive and fight through obstacles in America.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this book you see the friendships that Rose forms and her progress of becoming someone. As soon as everything seemed to be fine, disaster struck. One day as Rose was working at the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory, a fire broke out. Rose is on the 9th floor and they try to find a way out. The ladders aren’t tall enough to reach the 9th&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://trianglememorial.org/images_global/Img_Main_FactoryFire.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 205px; height: 270px;" src="http://trianglememorial.org/images_global/Img_Main_FactoryFire.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; floor and the doors were locked and they were stuck.  Rose, Maureen, and their friends try to fight for their lives to survive. This fire killed one hundred and forty-six employees, out of five hundred. The way that the author described the fire and Rose’s emotions for losing Maureen felt real. You could really feel the fear of losing her sister and the fire was very well-researched. This event was interesting to read because the chaotic event actually happened in 1911. I had never heard of this fire before I started reading this book. This disastrous event was an eye-opener that led to better factory conditions for workers across the nation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The beginning of the book was a slow start, since it was setting up for the middle and end. The book seemed to end a little quickly. It ended a bit quick after the fire occurred and you don’t really get to see what happened to Rose’s life afterwards. The end really just shows that Rose has more hopes for America and that she wouldn’t want to go back home to Ireland. You would see the changes in the characters throughout the book; the two sisters become very independent young women. Rose becomes a stronger person and Maureen really changes from being a very stubborn child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really liked how the author told the story. At some parts it really made you want to cry since it was so sad and tragic. The ending felt like as if you actually experienced it. This book shows the challenges that immigrants, or ‘greenhorns’ faced as they struggle in a new land and it also portrays of what sweatshop workers  faced. This book showed the difficulties that they went through to provide themselves with a better life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was an inspiring and engaging book. This book makes me more thankful for the life I have now, and I’m glad that I don’t have to struggle like the characters in this book did. This book teaches many lessons and is told in a very good way. I recommend this book to teenage girls, especially if you love historical fiction.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9127874340921544726-3687033339261562596?l=charisse-c.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/feeds/3687033339261562596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9127874340921544726&amp;postID=3687033339261562596' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/3687033339261562596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/3687033339261562596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/2008/12/ashes-of-roses-by-mary-jane-auch.html' title='Ashes of Roses by Mary Jane Auch'/><author><name>charisse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07876264189491576509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9127874340921544726.post-6198678175033783946</id><published>2008-10-06T09:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T10:34:43.626-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lord of The Flies by William Golding #12</title><content type='html'>Chapter 12 - Cry of the Hunters&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If Only. by Jack&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ralph thinks that he's better than me, huh? Well yeah right. I got everybody in my tribe, and how many in Ralph's? None! Nada. I'm better than him and my tribe is better! We dance and cheer and hunt for pigs. We all have a good time and I make living on this island much better. I've got Simon and Piggy murdered, and my next target is Ralph. Hah. He thinks he can run away from me, huh? Nope! My plan kind of worked. Ralph would go to Samneric to talk to them and I'd find out where Ralph is. But Samneric wouldn't tell me! I attempted to torture them, but I guess Ralph probably ran away in the jungle so I set it on fire to smoke him out. He tried to hide away from me. I guess he ran away from the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ululation&lt;/span&gt; of our hunters scared him away. But anyways, I saw him and tried to fight him. As soon as we almost killed him, he hid away and a naval officer that had a white &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;drill &lt;/span&gt;and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;epaulettes&lt;/span&gt; and he found us on the island and finally rescued us. I wanted to get rescued, but I mean, why now? Why couldn't we kill Ralph first? Ralph doesn't need to be rescued! We all can live without him, now can't we? I wanted to pull a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;diddle&lt;/span&gt; on him.. Aghh.. So that's the end of the power I gained on this island.. And we all left with &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;distended&lt;/span&gt; stomaches..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9127874340921544726-6198678175033783946?l=charisse-c.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/feeds/6198678175033783946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9127874340921544726&amp;postID=6198678175033783946' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/6198678175033783946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/6198678175033783946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/2008/10/lord-of-flies-by-william-golding-12.html' title='Lord of The Flies by William Golding #12'/><author><name>charisse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07876264189491576509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9127874340921544726.post-6640489613853937934</id><published>2008-10-05T13:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-05T14:20:07.923-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lord of The Flies by William Golding #11</title><content type='html'>Chapter 11 - Castle Rock&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Want To Go Home Already! by Ralph&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This island is so &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;delirious.&lt;/span&gt; Everything is getting out of control! If only there was some &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;cessation&lt;/span&gt; of this nonsense already. I want to go home already! I'm tired of everything. We tried going to Jack's campsite but instead his silly followers told us to leave. I tried blowing the conch if anything would work.. But I guess it's just useless now. Only Piggy and Samneric would join the assembly. Anyways, Jack told me to leave but I demanded Piggy's glasses back. Of course, knowing him, he just attacked me and we fought. I just wanted the specs back so we could start a fire and just get rescued already!! Instead he takes Samneric away.. What the heck man..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack is just something else. If only I could just kill him. I hate him. What is up with him.. He's &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;truculent.&lt;/span&gt; It's like &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;talismans&lt;/span&gt; wouldn't work if you used it against him. Piggy couldn't see anymore because of Jack taking his glasses away for his stupid meat. And now we can't even light a fire to get rescued. Speaking of Piggy... Oh, Piggy.. First there's Simon.. Now Piggy. He can't even see anything. It's all a blur to him. Geez. Roger had thrown a big boulder over a ledge and I knew that something worse was going to happen. I hoped the rock wouldn't hurt me. And It didn't. Instead, the rock landed on Piggy!! He fell over like forty feet, and disappeared into the sea. That was the last of him. Poor Piggy, he shouldn't of ended his life that way. Nobody even seemed to care about Piggy's death! I mean, his head opened and nasty stuff came out and it was all red. It was one of the most disgusting, cruel things I've seen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I have nobody on my side. We mistakenly murdered Simon, Samneric was captured, and Piggy was now killed. Is this Jack's way of getting me to join his tribe? No. Never. I'm never going to join something like that. I just want to go home already...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9127874340921544726-6640489613853937934?l=charisse-c.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/feeds/6640489613853937934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9127874340921544726&amp;postID=6640489613853937934' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/6640489613853937934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/6640489613853937934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/2008/10/lord-of-flies-by-william-golding-11.html' title='Lord of The Flies by William Golding #11'/><author><name>charisse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07876264189491576509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9127874340921544726.post-9034003810650078608</id><published>2008-10-02T14:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-02T15:10:50.622-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lord of The Flies by William Golding #10</title><content type='html'>Chapter 10 - The Shell and The Glasses&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There Was No Murder! by Piggy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe it! Simon! Ah... I miss him. I don't know why we did it.. but.. I don't know. I guess you can say I was caught up in the moment. The dancing, everything-- I can't believe it. It was &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;barmy.&lt;/span&gt; The &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;illumination&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;just wasn't right. Ralph kept trying to talk to me about it, but it's just too sad. He wants to call an assembly, and talk to everyone about it- but he's not really a chief anymore. The conch is now useless. Nobody will listen to it anymore. Jack took over the island now. He has all the power. I don't want to go to Jack's tribe. It's too evil. He even tried to beat us and scare us by howling and shrieking when we were sleeping. It's mean. He tried to take away my glasses, and I know why. I thought he might have wanted the conch. You know, for the power and everything that Jack wants. But he just wanted my specs for his fire. Stupid, greedy Jack...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want another incident like this to happen again. I don't want to talk about it. It's too awkward. I guess we could act like it never happened. I'm not a murderer! Well, I don't want to be one..  It's not &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;theological.&lt;/span&gt; Ahh.. I want to be &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;purged&lt;/span&gt; out or something.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9127874340921544726-9034003810650078608?l=charisse-c.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/feeds/9034003810650078608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9127874340921544726&amp;postID=9034003810650078608' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/9034003810650078608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/9034003810650078608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/2008/10/lord-of-flies-by-william-golding-10.html' title='Lord of The Flies by William Golding #10'/><author><name>charisse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07876264189491576509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9127874340921544726.post-7946088603129865728</id><published>2008-10-01T10:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T19:52:41.024-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lord of The Flies by William Golding #9</title><content type='html'>Chapter 9 - A View To A Death&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Beast Is In Us by Simon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Lord of The Flies told me that someone would get me. It could be Jack, or Roger, or Maurice, or Robert, or Bill, or Piggy, or even Ralph. What else is there to do? It's dark and my nose was bleeding. I was weak. I noticed that there was a parachute and I find an old, rotten man. This wasn't a beast that Samneric thought it was. I needed to tell everyone the news that the beast was harmless. I just saw a poor, &lt;strong&gt;corpulent&lt;/strong&gt; old man lying there rotting away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw a light nearby and perhaps all of the boys were there. I followed the light to tell everyone that there is no beast. Thunder struck on the island and rain was coming. It was going to rain like it did after we landed on this island. Lighting and thunder struck again beyond the forest. I came to the boys' campsite. When I came, they started to follow me anthe hunters took their spears, and the others took something too. I was terrified of what was happening. The Lord of The Flies was right. They were going to get me. The boys started to form a circle and they started chanting. "Kill the beast! Cut his throat! Spill his blood!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no beast that they were talking about. It was all just a dead man on a parachute. I tried to cry it out.. There was just a dead man on a hill! But yet again, "Kill the beast! Cut his throat! Spill his blood!" I found myself in the middle of the circle. I was terrifed with my arms folded over my face. I'm not the beast! Why are they doing this to me? They were attacking me-- I was torn up and struck with their teeth and bare hands. The &lt;strong&gt;phosphorescence&lt;/strong&gt; started to fade away. The rain poured and I lay still. My dead body found itself lying toward the sea. The Lord of the Flies was all starting to make sense. They all got me. They murdered me. I guess there's a beast in us after all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9127874340921544726-7946088603129865728?l=charisse-c.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/feeds/7946088603129865728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9127874340921544726&amp;postID=7946088603129865728' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/7946088603129865728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/7946088603129865728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/2008/10/lord-of-flies-by-william-golding-9.html' title='Lord of The Flies by William Golding #9'/><author><name>charisse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07876264189491576509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9127874340921544726.post-9162519868034167264</id><published>2008-09-29T19:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T20:31:51.707-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lord of The Flies by William Golding #8</title><content type='html'>Chapter 8 - Gift For The Darkness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come To Our Side, We've Got Cookies - by Jack&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ralph is soo... I don't know. But he's a bad chief. He's not a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;prefect&lt;/span&gt;. He shouldn't be chief anymore. I should!! But nobody wants to listen to me. Nobody wanted to vote for me to be the leader. Ugh, don't tell anyone but.. it made me really humiliated. What is wrong with people these days? Personally I think that I'd make a better leader. Yeah, we did see the beast but whatever. We could just forget about it. We don't need to kill it. We can kill pigs and eat that meat. So I ran off and whoever wanted to join me could. I managed to recuit a few boys later and it made me really happy. Those boys have smart thinking. We killed a pig and&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;even stuck a spear up its' ass. Hah. We also &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;paunched&lt;/span&gt; its' guts out and also cut off its' head and stuck a stick through it. Since we captured a pig we needed to roast it. The boys and I decided to go to Ralph's campsite and steal their fire so we can eat our pig. Even though it was kind of a&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; taboo&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;we came there with &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;demoniac&lt;/span&gt; faces and I tried to recuit more boys. Pretty soon Ralph would have nobody to be in charge of except for Piggy. Hahaha! I thought that raiding the site was &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;demure &lt;/span&gt;of myself. Finally this island is starting to get better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9127874340921544726-9162519868034167264?l=charisse-c.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/feeds/9162519868034167264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9127874340921544726&amp;postID=9162519868034167264' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/9162519868034167264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/9162519868034167264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/2008/09/lord-of-flies-by-william-golding-8.html' title='Lord of The Flies by William Golding #8'/><author><name>charisse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07876264189491576509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9127874340921544726.post-8212769230017687612</id><published>2008-09-28T16:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T16:50:02.512-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lord of The Flies by William Golding #7</title><content type='html'>Chapter 7 - Shadows and Tall Trees&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Pig. by Ralph&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I really miss back home. I wish I could go back. Lately I've been having day dreams about home while I was using the lavatory. Today I almost caught a pig! It felt like kind of like &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;rugger. &lt;/span&gt;I managed to hit the pig but I didn't catch it. I was pretty proud of what I've done. I told the other boys and they said they wanted to reenact it. They said that they'd even get drums and fire, but, uh.. I just wanted to say that I hit a pig. How could they be so &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;dun? &lt;/span&gt;Hah, if I caught it I'd eat it and I'd put &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;brine&lt;/span&gt; all over it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also went around the island today. We wanted to search for the beast. We had left Piggy with the littluns. Poor Piggy, I wonder how he kept up with the littluns. I guess that wasn't a  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;sage &lt;/span&gt;decision. In search for the beast, Jack decided for us to go up the mountain. We went and looked and then went to a slope. We crept forward and it was dark. A few yards away, we saw something. It was a creature; something like a great ape. We sat there, being&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;impervious&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9127874340921544726-8212769230017687612?l=charisse-c.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/feeds/8212769230017687612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9127874340921544726&amp;postID=8212769230017687612' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/8212769230017687612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9127874340921544726/posts/default/8212769230017687612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charisse-c.blogspot.com/2008/09/lord-of-flies-by-william-golding-7.html' title='Lord of The Flies by William Golding #7'/><author><name>charisse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07876264189491576509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
