"Twelve"

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Cry, The Broken Country

In the first chapter of Cry, the Beloved Country Paton goes into great detail to describe the beautiful landscape of South Africa. He even goes as far as to say that it is Holy. He then describes a broken, crumbling land that has been ravaged and destroyed by man.

                He uses these contrasting lands to show the vast difference between the tribal areas and the big cities like Johannesburg. Not only in their appearances but in the way the people of each area live. The natives hold high values in family and see preservation of the land very important, and much like the land on which they live, they have been untouched by man. They haven’t been corrupted by technology and man’s destructive, selfish ways. They don’t see being rich and successful as even remotely important because they still have to work to survive. Nothing is handed to them; they work for themselves and no one else. They know very little of the outside world and have never needed to because everything they need comes from the land. They live as they have been since they settled the land ages ago. Their lives are hard but that is what they are used too. Their hearts, like their homeland, has been untouched by man. The land keeps them, cares for them, and guards them and they return the favor.

                Other lands are not quite that way. They have been touched by man. Destroyed and scorched, they are barren and hold great steal jungles. The people in these cities have low morals and lose contact with their families. Natives move here and their hearts are changed. They leave the land that guards them and their heart are no longer safe. The Europeans came and destroyed the land and showed the natives what they “needed.” They showed them that they needed money. They showed them that they need success and fame. They took their land and their rights as human beings. They took their way of living and changed it. They corrupted the natives for their own greed-filled purposes. They wanted the gold that filled South Africa’s belly and used the natives to get it.

                The untouched, holy lands represent the natives and their way of life. The poor, nutrient-drained land represents the Europeans. In a way, the views were one-sided, coming from Paton. He saw what the Europeans had done and believed they were wrong. He used his homeland portray his beliefs. I personally agree with what he believes. The natives have a right as human beings to live the way they have for hundreds of years and the Europeans came in and destroyed it. He uses it to show the contrast between the peoples. He also uses it to portray his personal beliefs.

Paths

We got lost on the first night. In the dark maze of roads and coves. We weaved our way through this new, unknown labyrinth. Not knowing which way to turn. During the day this would have been an easy task. But at night, we were blind to the invisible pathway leading to our new home in this maze of a neighborhood. But it was my new neighborhood.

           

In my yard, pretending to be a knight in bright, shining armor, I played. This seemingly large wonderland filled my needs for entertainment. I was only seven. What else did I really need. Running around attacking my imaginary adversaries, I was the champion. Before I needed, or wanted, much else, that yard was my playing field. My arena. My jungle. My barren wasteland. My imagination bending it to my will. The trees turned into evil creatures threating my castle. But, I bravely fought back with all my seven-year-old might. Defending my stronghold.

There are so many roads. Or, so it seemed to my young, twelve-year-old mind as the world opened up to me. I was no longer restricted to my small kingdom in the yard. I could travel to distant lands. I was the shoeless wanderer. I was also the great hider. I spent many late nights playing hide and go seek at Brandon’s house. I like hide and go seek still to this day. Being able to show off my skills for sneaking then seeing my opportunity and sprinting to the base. I wish I could sit that still and be so patient now.  The base was always Brandon’s mailbox; illuminated by the street light. The seeker was always lurking in the nearby darkness waiting to snatch up the unsuspecting victim. Some games lasted for hours when we got older and better at the game.

I got older and things changed. I spent a lot more of those nights alone. Those winter nights spent alone skateboarding around my dark, seemingly abandoned neighborhood were my favorite part of the year. Being alone in the quiet gave me time to think and breath. I would usually stay out until my fingers and legs were numb and my face burning red. Eventually my best friend started joining me on my adventures. She was always a good ways behind me because I liked to skate fast feel the wind burning my face. We would usually skate to the park by the lake in my neighborhood. It was kind of scary at night. There were not a lot of lights near the park so we were worried that a group of zombies would emerge from the brush and eat us. We were prepared for our impending doom though.

I strolled into the house around one a.m. I had fallen asleep at my friend Hailey’s house. The roads seemed darker, but strangely enough, I did see some cars driving. I always figured that these suburban roads were empty by midnight.

“Glad to see you actually made it home last night,” said my dad in a mock angry tone.

“Yeah, I fell asleep at Hailey’s. Sorry. You and mom were asleep when I got home so I just got Hannah and went to bed.”

He gave me his usual look where he raises his chin and squints his eyes and then gave me his usual, “Mmmhmmm. Just try not to stay out so late. It’s time to get ready for church.”

So I got up and started to get ready.

The same roads I once got lost on are now imprinted into my brain. No matter how late or how dark it is, no matter how tired I am, I will not get lost. I can now see all of the invisible pathways leading here and there. Now that I can drive, my neighborhood sees less and less of me. It’s still my neighborhood though. It is still my old friend bursting w

I'm not quite sure

I don't really know I started learning to read. I just remember it sort of..happening. There were never any problems or bumps in the road with my reading ability. So, there were never any big breakthroughs or light bulbs going off. I know it didn't happen that way. The skill didn't appear to me one day. Also, I don't remember my reading skills getting better. It feels like I've been on my current reading level forever.

I guess I was in preschool when I first started learning. It started with alphabet, then short words. Then in kindergarten we learned how to write and so I don't it really started until then. Probably due to the fact that before I could write, I never truly comprehended the how letters were formed into words.

My reading sort of took off in first and second grade. I mainly read small, short books for AR. (accelerated reader) I always met my goal thanks to those short, easy to read, one point books. I read countless numbers of them. I must have read anywhere between one or two hundred because I had over a hundred points in second grade. Those were easy years.

But that all changed in third grade. There were no more one point books because those were for babies. Now I was dealing with the big dogs. Third grade kind of sucked for me. I don't know if I made my AR goals. I didn't have the attention span needed to read books that were than fifty pages. I know, it's sad. I outgrew that drawback along with my favorite pair of converse. Through fourth and fifth grade my reading got a lot better. I remember reading more at home then as well.

Ever since then, I've enjoyed reading. It became more of a hobby rather than something I did for points at school. There was a problem with that though. Not all books were in the AR system. Which means if I found a book I liked, and it wasn't an AR book, I had to decide if I could afford to spend time reading that book instead of a book for points. AR was stupid. I think it was to get people to read more, but I'm pretty sure if people didn't care about their grades in general, they wouldn't care about stupid, unneeded AR points.

In the past two years I've been introduced to a lot of great authors and series like Eragon, The Olympians, Maximum Ride, and John Green. I think John Green might be my favorite author now. Now that I have all these new and exciting things to read, I've become a better reader. Not just in how fast I can read, but in how comprehend what the author is trying to say.

Everyone in my family is big on reading. Like, my dad for example, always has his Kindle with him. He always has it stocked with books, some finished, some halfway threw, and so many aren't even started. My middle brother has always liked reading about history and other nerdy things. My oldest brother reads every chance he gets. He reads those action novels with the cheesy titles. Once he finds a book he likes, he flies through it. That's kind of funny considering he's a pilot.

My mom told me that I had trouble reading in the first grade. Me and both of my brothers had the same first grade teacher so we were taught to read by the same person. They both got it really fast, but it took me a little to finally catch on. But once I made those first few steps, I started to run. Ever since then I've enjoyed reading. I like that it can take you to new places and out of your comfort zone. I'll probably read until I'm old and senile.

I Am

 I am an extremely indecisive musician

I wonder about the unknown future

I hear music all of the time

I see myself driving somewhere far away

I want to go to concerts with my friends

I am extremely indecisive musician

I pretend I have super powers and that I'm not terribly awkward

I feel the cold air of my favorite time of year

I touch the Vics and play the rhythms

I worry too much and too often

I cry when when my brothers leave

I am an extremely indecisive musician

I understand that people screw up a lot
I saw strange things that don't make sense
I dream about her
I try to put more effort into music and everything else
I hope I can stay young, not physically, but mentally
I am an extremely incisiveness musician.

Newer Better Things

It’s kind of funny how everybody forgets about the old classic things as soon as something new or more interesting comes along. It’s that way for everything. Phones, tv’s, computers, even people. New things always come along. This is true for Garcia Marquez’s short story, “A Very Old Man with Enormous Wings: A Tale for Children”.

When the old man first arrived he had the attention of the whole town. Everyone came to see him, to take his feathers, to test the hypothesis that he was an angel. But, once the spider girl came along, he was long forgotten and eventually left off without anyone but Elisenda noticing.

This happens in the real world all the time. One day, you really care about something but then the next, it’s old news. Not important. It happens to people a lot. Especially as we get older. Your best friend when you were younger may not even do so much as say hey to you when you pass in the hall. New people come a long just like new technology; just like the spider girl. It doesn’t happen over night or quickly like it does for the old man, though. It takes awhile. The new friends meet their needs until you aren’t needed anymore. You’re obsolete just like old phones and old t.v.’s.

The old man got a happy ending. Hopefully we will too. Hopefully we find people who won’t forget about and slowly replace us, and hopefully we do the same for them. But, there’s always something new to replace another object that’s become obsolete.