Thursday, January 28, 2010
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
MLK Essay: Who Knew.....?
Who Knew...?
My name is Cindy. I have a brother named James. We have two friends who are named William and Sarah. We always play together. We are all only 10 years old. One day our friends' mom came and took our two friends away and yelled at me and my brother that we're black and they're not so we can't play anymore. When I learned how people could be, it really hurt me. I thought black was just another color like white, pink, blue, and purple. But I guess I was wrong.
My brother and I went home sad. We got home and my dad, the minister, asked us, “What's wrong?” We told him what happened that day. You would think he'd be a little upset or raging mad, but he only said to us, “You might be angry or sad, but we'll get through it without violence”. I was mad at that point
The next day in school we learned about Dr. King and what he did during the years he was alive. My teacher, Ms. Monroe, said, “Dr King led the Boycott for buses and as a child he was pulled away from his friend because his friend's mom judged him by the color of his skin.” I raised my hand and told Ms. Monroe what had happened with my two friends. Ms. Monroe told me to talk to her after class.
I talked with her about what happened. She was worried and asked me a lot of questions like “Are you ok?” Then she told me to write an essay about what advice I think Dr. King would give to young people like me. I told her I would do all my research about him and do it.
I stayed up doing research for days. This man was really interesting -- so interesting that it took about 4 notebooks to hold all the information l found. My dad asked, “ What are you doing all this research for honey?”
I told him the assignment my teacher had given me. He thought it was a great idea for me to do it.
I finished all my research. Now I just had to write the essay. I told myself to just go to bed, but I guess that research really got to me because I had a dream about Dr. King himself.
I woke up to people walking, A LOT of people, and I noticed that they were all African-Americans. Then I remembered we learned this in school. It was the bus boycott. I saw Dr. King. I told him my story about my friends and brother. They always say, “Great minds think alike” but who knew it would be my two heroes, my dad and Martin Luther King Jr., who would say the same thing. “ You might be angry or sad but we'll get through it without violence,” Dr. King said. I wanted to argue but he told me why he believed this. He explained to me how violence is never the answer and that you shouldn't fight fire with fire.
Then all my friends came into my dream and we sat around in a circle discussing problems we had. I guess Dr. King felt admired for how much we cared about him. He stood up and gave us all advice like my assignment, “What advice would Dr. King give to young people”?
He taught us to never fight back and to always make sure we keep our head in school so we will have a great life and career. He ended the conversation with a hard question to think about, if we wouldn't have visited him, or ever learned about him, or if he was never born or didn't make a change, what would have happened to us and the world?
Saira Zapata
Grade 6
Saltonstall School
My name is Cindy. I have a brother named James. We have two friends who are named William and Sarah. We always play together. We are all only 10 years old. One day our friends' mom came and took our two friends away and yelled at me and my brother that we're black and they're not so we can't play anymore. When I learned how people could be, it really hurt me. I thought black was just another color like white, pink, blue, and purple. But I guess I was wrong.
My brother and I went home sad. We got home and my dad, the minister, asked us, “What's wrong?” We told him what happened that day. You would think he'd be a little upset or raging mad, but he only said to us, “You might be angry or sad, but we'll get through it without violence”. I was mad at that point
The next day in school we learned about Dr. King and what he did during the years he was alive. My teacher, Ms. Monroe, said, “Dr King led the Boycott for buses and as a child he was pulled away from his friend because his friend's mom judged him by the color of his skin.” I raised my hand and told Ms. Monroe what had happened with my two friends. Ms. Monroe told me to talk to her after class.
I talked with her about what happened. She was worried and asked me a lot of questions like “Are you ok?” Then she told me to write an essay about what advice I think Dr. King would give to young people like me. I told her I would do all my research about him and do it.
I stayed up doing research for days. This man was really interesting -- so interesting that it took about 4 notebooks to hold all the information l found. My dad asked, “ What are you doing all this research for honey?”
I told him the assignment my teacher had given me. He thought it was a great idea for me to do it.
I finished all my research. Now I just had to write the essay. I told myself to just go to bed, but I guess that research really got to me because I had a dream about Dr. King himself.
I woke up to people walking, A LOT of people, and I noticed that they were all African-Americans. Then I remembered we learned this in school. It was the bus boycott. I saw Dr. King. I told him my story about my friends and brother. They always say, “Great minds think alike” but who knew it would be my two heroes, my dad and Martin Luther King Jr., who would say the same thing. “ You might be angry or sad but we'll get through it without violence,” Dr. King said. I wanted to argue but he told me why he believed this. He explained to me how violence is never the answer and that you shouldn't fight fire with fire.
Then all my friends came into my dream and we sat around in a circle discussing problems we had. I guess Dr. King felt admired for how much we cared about him. He stood up and gave us all advice like my assignment, “What advice would Dr. King give to young people”?
He taught us to never fight back and to always make sure we keep our head in school so we will have a great life and career. He ended the conversation with a hard question to think about, if we wouldn't have visited him, or ever learned about him, or if he was never born or didn't make a change, what would have happened to us and the world?
Saira Zapata
Grade 6
Saltonstall School
MLK Essay: Where's the Table?
Where’s the Table?
The name's Liam. Liam Trebbol. I'm in the sixth grade. I'm only writing this because of Dr. King. I suppose I should start at the beginning. I'’ve always admired Martin Luther King for talking like I often feel. “I have a dream.” Which is what I'm almost always thinking.
See, ever since I was a Kid I've had some problems with seeing things that others don't. The other boys make fun of me for it. They found out in first grade when I asked them if they had liked a combination of a dolphin and superman flying past the classroom window. They were no dummies and soon got it.
So when we started studying Martin Luther King, the 'I Have a Dream” speech sparked my mind. While learning about him in school one day, I had a vision of him. Then I raised my hand to tell the class. Realizing what I was doing I quickly changed the wording. So instead of, “Martin Luther King just told me...!”., it was “l think Dr. King would approve of us learning about this time in history, so that we know what happened and won't be ignorant enough to let it happen again. It was a very sad time and racist people should be ashamed.” This was the first of my many sightings of Dr. King.
Walking home from school this October, I saw a man screaming at a woman. She yelled back at him, and I distinctly heard him respond, “You are a female moron. What other kind is there? You will do what I say! Eat my dirt.” He kicked her down the alleyway, which was conveniently located behind them. “You are lucky to have even dirt from a man's boot on you. Even that's a blessing, girl!” I imagined him doing an evil laugh.
I turned and saw Dr. King walking next to me.
“Sexists are just as bad as racists,” he told me,” underestimating someone's personality because of their gender.”
“I wish women were the ones in power, don't you?” I asked.
“Perhaps,” he replied as if he were asking himself.
We rounded the corner and stepped onto the Island of the Amazons -- an island from Greek mythology where women were powerful and men did things around the house. “It must have been awesome here.” I said to Martin, who was now wearing a rainbow Greek toga. I looked down to see myself wearing one, too.
“Look!” he said pointing to the ocean. “Perhaps you will understand in a second.”
I looked into the waves and saw a ship approaching. I then remembered that Heracles had come and accidentally killed the queen. The men then realized they could be strong and came into power.
Just as I now remebered that, Martin and I were back on the street. “Do you understand now?” he asked “Perhaps,” he said, “it is not better for one gender to be in power. Perhaps they could be together. Partners in crime, for all people are evil in some way. ‘We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.’ “
I understood. Martin headed over to the park and I headed home.
In December, my father drove me to school. I insisted on walking home one day when it wasn't snowing. After school I made a snowman. “Dr. King,” I said, “everyone must be happy around this time of the year.”
“Some are homeless and have nowhere to stay in blizzards,” he remarked.
“They deserve it. Don't pay, don't stay!” I said.
“No!” said Dr. King. “Most are like you and I. But stereotypes keep them from a normal life.”
“Huh? How's that possible?” I asked.” The guys at school make “hobos” sound like mutated souls with hairy tongues.” I paused and looked down at the snow. “A five dollar bill!” I picked it up and put it in my pocket.
“Five dollar Bill of Rights,” said Dr. King.” Every citizen should have housing. But it's not to be.”
I knew I wouldn't be getting home for a while. I took out the money. I looked hard at it. I looked up again. Of course, I wasn't in front of the snowman anymore. Dr. King and I were standing in a low room. There was a table. Sitting at it were two men. One was a rich looking white guy and the other was a Middle-Eastern guy. The white guy looked like he had accomplished victory. The Middle-Eastern guy looked ready to cry.
“Anyway, Mr. Achmed,” said the white guy. He seemed arrogant. ”Since 9/11 we simply can't trust your people.”
“It is a shame,” said the other man. “My ancestral country does not hold you and every other american guilty for the death or Martin Luther King. Yet everyone still mourns it. I have lived in this country my whole life, yet you refuse to give me a mortgage. I am no terrorist because of the color of my skin.”
“Why, if Dr. King were here right now,” which he was, “he wouldn't be wasting time on me, which is fine. He would be talking to the youngsters. Telling them how to handle things so in the next generation there would be peace!
“He had a dream! You hold me responsible for a wrong someone I have never met did! I should, by now, be able to sit down with you at the table of brotherhood! Not the table of you cheating me out of money! “ Then he left.
Suddenly, I was in front of my house. “Don’t you see? You have the power to change things.” said Martin. “It’s in you! I’m just part of your imagination. Use wisdom. Do what you think is right. There are many wrongs in the world that should be changed. A table of brotherhood awaits us all. I have a dream.”
Jacob Barz-Snell
Grade 5
Saltonstall School
The name's Liam. Liam Trebbol. I'm in the sixth grade. I'm only writing this because of Dr. King. I suppose I should start at the beginning. I'’ve always admired Martin Luther King for talking like I often feel. “I have a dream.” Which is what I'm almost always thinking.
See, ever since I was a Kid I've had some problems with seeing things that others don't. The other boys make fun of me for it. They found out in first grade when I asked them if they had liked a combination of a dolphin and superman flying past the classroom window. They were no dummies and soon got it.
So when we started studying Martin Luther King, the 'I Have a Dream” speech sparked my mind. While learning about him in school one day, I had a vision of him. Then I raised my hand to tell the class. Realizing what I was doing I quickly changed the wording. So instead of, “Martin Luther King just told me...!”., it was “l think Dr. King would approve of us learning about this time in history, so that we know what happened and won't be ignorant enough to let it happen again. It was a very sad time and racist people should be ashamed.” This was the first of my many sightings of Dr. King.
Walking home from school this October, I saw a man screaming at a woman. She yelled back at him, and I distinctly heard him respond, “You are a female moron. What other kind is there? You will do what I say! Eat my dirt.” He kicked her down the alleyway, which was conveniently located behind them. “You are lucky to have even dirt from a man's boot on you. Even that's a blessing, girl!” I imagined him doing an evil laugh.
I turned and saw Dr. King walking next to me.
“Sexists are just as bad as racists,” he told me,” underestimating someone's personality because of their gender.”
“I wish women were the ones in power, don't you?” I asked.
“Perhaps,” he replied as if he were asking himself.
We rounded the corner and stepped onto the Island of the Amazons -- an island from Greek mythology where women were powerful and men did things around the house. “It must have been awesome here.” I said to Martin, who was now wearing a rainbow Greek toga. I looked down to see myself wearing one, too.
“Look!” he said pointing to the ocean. “Perhaps you will understand in a second.”
I looked into the waves and saw a ship approaching. I then remembered that Heracles had come and accidentally killed the queen. The men then realized they could be strong and came into power.
Just as I now remebered that, Martin and I were back on the street. “Do you understand now?” he asked “Perhaps,” he said, “it is not better for one gender to be in power. Perhaps they could be together. Partners in crime, for all people are evil in some way. ‘We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.’ “
I understood. Martin headed over to the park and I headed home.
In December, my father drove me to school. I insisted on walking home one day when it wasn't snowing. After school I made a snowman. “Dr. King,” I said, “everyone must be happy around this time of the year.”
“Some are homeless and have nowhere to stay in blizzards,” he remarked.
“They deserve it. Don't pay, don't stay!” I said.
“No!” said Dr. King. “Most are like you and I. But stereotypes keep them from a normal life.”
“Huh? How's that possible?” I asked.” The guys at school make “hobos” sound like mutated souls with hairy tongues.” I paused and looked down at the snow. “A five dollar bill!” I picked it up and put it in my pocket.
“Five dollar Bill of Rights,” said Dr. King.” Every citizen should have housing. But it's not to be.”
I knew I wouldn't be getting home for a while. I took out the money. I looked hard at it. I looked up again. Of course, I wasn't in front of the snowman anymore. Dr. King and I were standing in a low room. There was a table. Sitting at it were two men. One was a rich looking white guy and the other was a Middle-Eastern guy. The white guy looked like he had accomplished victory. The Middle-Eastern guy looked ready to cry.
“Anyway, Mr. Achmed,” said the white guy. He seemed arrogant. ”Since 9/11 we simply can't trust your people.”
“It is a shame,” said the other man. “My ancestral country does not hold you and every other american guilty for the death or Martin Luther King. Yet everyone still mourns it. I have lived in this country my whole life, yet you refuse to give me a mortgage. I am no terrorist because of the color of my skin.”
“Why, if Dr. King were here right now,” which he was, “he wouldn't be wasting time on me, which is fine. He would be talking to the youngsters. Telling them how to handle things so in the next generation there would be peace!
“He had a dream! You hold me responsible for a wrong someone I have never met did! I should, by now, be able to sit down with you at the table of brotherhood! Not the table of you cheating me out of money! “ Then he left.
Suddenly, I was in front of my house. “Don’t you see? You have the power to change things.” said Martin. “It’s in you! I’m just part of your imagination. Use wisdom. Do what you think is right. There are many wrongs in the world that should be changed. A table of brotherhood awaits us all. I have a dream.”
Jacob Barz-Snell
Grade 5
Saltonstall School
Salem State Martin Luther King, Jr Essay Contest
Two of our 5/6 students had essays submitted to the Salem State Martin Luther King, Jr Essay contest. Jacob Barz-Snell (5th grade) came in second place for the elementary level and Saira Zapata (6th grade) came in second place for the middle school level. The question this year was: What advice would Dr. King give young people today to help make the world a better place?
Monday, January 18, 2010
What I learned from School
My oldest daughter is in twelvth grade now, which means I’ve been a student for 13 years. While she and her younger sister have been learning math, science, history, and language arts, I’ve been getting an education in human behavior. Here are some of the lessons I’ve learned as a school volunteer:
About Teachers
1. Most teachers won’t recognize how extraordinary your child is. This was a difficult lesson for me, especially given all of the volunteer hours I spent that first year fishing for compliments. I kept expecting the teacher to pull me aside to ask about the aura of light my daughter radiated. The teacher never did. (And now that my daughter is a teenager, her halo has dimmed considerably.)
2. Over time, it becomes a good thing when teachers don’t pull you aside to talk about your child. (See above reference to dimming halo.)
3. The one teacher who does recognize how remarkable your child is will have come to the same conclusion about every other student in the class. One of my daughter's previous teachers would tell me enthusiastic accounts of her creative learning style. I thought I was the only one until I realized all of the other parents were strutting about, too, feeling pretty smug about their kids that year.
4. The ability to find something special in a child reveals less about the child than it does about the person who finds it.
About Kids
5. Some children will bend the truth into knots if doing so will get them an extra Hershey’s Kiss. After counting out five Kisses per child for a math game, several of them swore to me through chocolate-smeared mouths that I gave them only four. The next year, I used dried beans for the counting game. Not a single child asked for more beans.
6. Wrapped chocolate of any sort does not retain its shape when handled by kindergartners (another reason to switch to dried beans).
About Myself
7. It’s wrong to impose your fashion sense on a child—especially on picture day. If a kid wants to wear her eyeglasses, let her. If you try to wrestle them off her face, you’ll make her cry. Similarly, do not try to comb a child’s hair when she tells you her mom already combed her hair that morning. If you persist and lunge toward the kid’s head with the comb, you’ll make her cry.
8. I do something funny with my mouth when I’m addressing children. My daughter sidled up to me after I gave a presentation to her class and whispered, “Mommy. When you were talking to the kids, you kept doing this.” she opened her mouth halfway, pulled her lips back into a garish smile, and froze the expression on her face. That’s why the kids were so quiet and well-behaved. I’d scared them into silence.
About My Kids
9. Your child will attach herself to you when you volunteer in her classroom. Every time you look down, she will be smiling proudly up at you. In a few more years, that same child will not only have left your side; she also will pointedly ignore you. But that’s OK because...
10. You’ve been showing up at her school for the past 13 years, which taught her a lesson she’ll carry with her forever.
About Teachers
1. Most teachers won’t recognize how extraordinary your child is. This was a difficult lesson for me, especially given all of the volunteer hours I spent that first year fishing for compliments. I kept expecting the teacher to pull me aside to ask about the aura of light my daughter radiated. The teacher never did. (And now that my daughter is a teenager, her halo has dimmed considerably.)
2. Over time, it becomes a good thing when teachers don’t pull you aside to talk about your child. (See above reference to dimming halo.)
3. The one teacher who does recognize how remarkable your child is will have come to the same conclusion about every other student in the class. One of my daughter's previous teachers would tell me enthusiastic accounts of her creative learning style. I thought I was the only one until I realized all of the other parents were strutting about, too, feeling pretty smug about their kids that year.
4. The ability to find something special in a child reveals less about the child than it does about the person who finds it.
About Kids
5. Some children will bend the truth into knots if doing so will get them an extra Hershey’s Kiss. After counting out five Kisses per child for a math game, several of them swore to me through chocolate-smeared mouths that I gave them only four. The next year, I used dried beans for the counting game. Not a single child asked for more beans.
6. Wrapped chocolate of any sort does not retain its shape when handled by kindergartners (another reason to switch to dried beans).
About Myself
7. It’s wrong to impose your fashion sense on a child—especially on picture day. If a kid wants to wear her eyeglasses, let her. If you try to wrestle them off her face, you’ll make her cry. Similarly, do not try to comb a child’s hair when she tells you her mom already combed her hair that morning. If you persist and lunge toward the kid’s head with the comb, you’ll make her cry.
8. I do something funny with my mouth when I’m addressing children. My daughter sidled up to me after I gave a presentation to her class and whispered, “Mommy. When you were talking to the kids, you kept doing this.” she opened her mouth halfway, pulled her lips back into a garish smile, and froze the expression on her face. That’s why the kids were so quiet and well-behaved. I’d scared them into silence.
About My Kids
9. Your child will attach herself to you when you volunteer in her classroom. Every time you look down, she will be smiling proudly up at you. In a few more years, that same child will not only have left your side; she also will pointedly ignore you. But that’s OK because...
10. You’ve been showing up at her school for the past 13 years, which taught her a lesson she’ll carry with her forever.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Upcoming Events
The PTO is busy planning some really great activities in the next few months.
February 12th will be hosting and performance of "Love Letters" at teh Griffin Theater located on Lynde Street in Salem tickets will be on sale for $15 or 2 for $25. More info to come.
We would also like to host a Family Game Night and are looking for volunteers to asssit. Please let us know if you can help out
February 12th will be hosting and performance of "Love Letters" at teh Griffin Theater located on Lynde Street in Salem tickets will be on sale for $15 or 2 for $25. More info to come.
We would also like to host a Family Game Night and are looking for volunteers to asssit. Please let us know if you can help out
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