Elliot

=Introduction = Press the play button, and then read along with me! media type="file" key="Claire's Introduction.mp3" width="240" height="20"

**__What do you feel your portfolio says about you as a 9th grade English student? What are we as viewers supposed to "get"/understand about you when we see your work?__** I feel that the collection of essays bellow form a very rough shape of who I am. I'm just your regular 9th grader. I have my insecurities. I'm filled with youth's righteous anger. I'm a reader. All of these essays show my thoughts and my opinions on the things covered in our English class. They show what extractions I made, and how I think about things. By reading the following essays, I hope to give you a different perspective on things, I hope to give you a chance to understand me.

The Odyssey essay demonstrates that I recognize the gods in the Odyssey to be many things other than just an object of worship, and you could take from that essay that I also question the gods and god that I see people all around me worshiping and you could assume that I'm I am still searching for my religious identity.

From my memoir you could extract that I am a very normal teenager, caring a bit to much about what others think. You can come to understand that as much as I know that whats on the inside matters, whats on the outside matters too. And you can understand that even though I acknowledge that looks are important to all of our conscious's and subconscious's, I know that whats inside matters more.

From the Kindred essay you can clearly see that I am a believer in women rights. That I am full of youths righteous anger, and am firm in my beliefs of gender and racial equality. And yet, what is not told in this set of essays is my romanticism. How much I fantasize about times when women were delicate objects, full of gentility. I dream of the gallantry that is nonexistent in today society. With these two conflicting opinions harboring inside, I have come to the conclusion, that a woman should still be allowed to do all those things we have fought to earn the right for, but that in my perfect world, our society would be more centered on politeness, and the crude edges of the world would be smoothed out. I am however perfectly capable of seeing that neither will happen soon. I see women still being discriminated against, and I see trends of vulgarity in our generation of which I am certain that I am part of, however much I wish I were not.

From the Lady Macbeth piece you should see part of my creative side. I like to write, and create. I like things with a storyline progression; with a climax. I listen to poetry, and spoken word more often than most teenagers. I like art, and try to create art with words. Other than that, the Lady Macbeth piece is supposed to wrap you up and carry you along, like a swift river that piece is meant to catch you and hold you, till the end comes and you realize you were holding your breath. The nuances of the word choice come with a second listening, or a rereading of the text. The first time you listen though, just sit back and feel the art that I attempted to create from what was already art created my William Shakespeare.

The journals speak for themselves (literally). They are my honest opinions on the questions, exactly how I would say them.

__**What do you consider to be your strengths in English? What are your weaknesses? What would you still want to work on?**__ My strength I would have to say is my ability to write. I enjoy it, and often write for pleasure. I believe that my grammar is also strong though I'm sure I have my moments. I am strong in vocabulary, however, I am AWFUL with Spelling.

**__What were your experiences in making this portfolio? What issues did you encounter? How did you resolve them?__** While making this portfolio I was able to look back on my writing from the beginning of the year and see how it had changed. I was able to see my mistakes and fix them. I was able to have a second chance on assignments that I might not have put my 100% into. The only issue I had was being sick and out of school for a while, which gave me less time to work at home, but I got over that by working during lunch and making the time for this project.

I am most proud of, well I can't choose one thing. I really like my Kindred essay. I think that among the essays written by my classmates and myself, it is unique, and offers a unique theses. The other project I would choose as one of my best is the Macbeth project. I think that I completed that project well and even though I did not get as high a grade on it as I would have liked, I really enjoyed making it which is the most important part.
 * __What is the piece you are most proud of, and why?__ **

=Odyssey = Press the play button, and then read along with me! media type="file" key="Claire's Odessey.mp3" width="240" height="20"

**__ The Odyssey __** Athena, Poseidon, Zeus, Calypso, and Ino are all immortals that interfere with mortal lives, they hinder, help, and provide a wild card that gives hope, fear and mystery. __The Odyssey__ is an enthralling book, full of situations that get completely reversed because an immortal interferes. Poseidon hinders Odysseus’ return home, while Ino saves Odysseus. Some would argue that the gods do more good than bad while others would disagree and say the opposite. There are still more people who would say the gods balance each other out and that they simply provide a wild card, a scapegoat, and a source of hope.

The Gods in the book __The Odyssey__ create a wild card in all situations. Telemachus was at home, minding his own business, and feeling angry with the suitors. However he would never have done anything about them. Then Athena came down and moved him to a different path. With Athena’s guidance Telemachus was able to become more of a man, and was able to set off on a journey in search of knowledge of his father, which was not something he would have done had it not been for the goddess. Another instance is when Poseidon hinders Odysseus’ return. By creating storms that would not have occurred otherwise, Poseidon makes Odysseus struggle more than he would have. Then in Book 5, Ino finds Odysseus bids him to “strip, leave your raft to drive before the wind, and swim to the Phaecian coast where better luck awaits you. And here, take my veil and put it round your chest; it is enchanted, and you can come to no harm so long as you wear it.” Ino, and the sash she gives Odysseus are wild cards as they keeps him from harm that might have befallen him otherwise. If Ino had not given Odysseus the sash, Odysseus would have probably managed to get himself to land, though not in the same way, and probably wouldn’t have gotten to land in that same place, and might have met an invincible monster that would have eaten Odysseus, or a magic nymph that would have sent him home, but that didn’t happen because Poseidon created another future, and when he made Odysseus suffer in the middle of the ocean he might have actually been saving Odysseus’ life. While the Gods can be wild cards that help and hinder the mortals, they are also blamed for placing mortals in bad situations or creating the ills that they have to live with.

In the beginning of the book, Telemachus blames Zeus on the fact that his father isn’t home and that suitors plague his house. “Bards do not make the ills they sing of; it is Zeus” Telemachus tells his mother in Book 1, when she complains about the bards sad song. By blaming it on the gods, Telemachus avoids all real responsibility, and is able to escape any blame from his family or his conscience. The fact that even his mind is clear of guilt is proof of what a culpable scapegoat the gods are. One could always say that it was his destiny to fail, or that that was how the gods willed it, and who could dispute it? Gods were used as scapegoats because gods were capable of almost anything, and because gods were not really around to be talked to; people could not find out if they had done such and such, to so and so. The gods are distant, available for finger pointing weather it be for blame of for backup.

Many people resorted to the gods as their last line of defense, or as their last hope. In Book 2, when the suitors inhabit Telemachus’ home, drink the wine and kill his cattle for food he rages at them in anger, “You should be ashamed of yourselves, mortified in the face of neighbors living round about! Fear the gods wrath- before they wheel in outrage and make these crimes recoil on your head”. Even though he blamed the gods, he also used them as his last defense. He threatened that the gods would punish the suitors giving himself more power and control that he would have had on his own. Having the gods there made Telemachus feel more confident. Humans need hope and having a god to look up to is nice, because gods are capable of anything, they could, if they wished save you from drowning, or strike down a group of people with one lightning bolt.

The gods provided the people in the book __The Odyssey__, a wild card, scapegoat, and source of hope. The gods were mysterious and powerful and were capable of saving anyone or ruining anyone’s life in a matter of seconds according to the myths. They also provided explanations for many unknown things happening to Odysseys in their world. When people are able have someone or something like that to look up to it can make them feel safe and make the world seam sensible.

=Memoir = Press the play button, and then read along with me! media type="file" key="Claire's Memoir 1.mp3" width="240" height="20"

**__ Camp Problems __** The sun had already risen when the first bell rang. I rolled over and pulled my blankets over my head, not ready to get up yet. Then music started playing from the division leaders cabin. Over the noise of Brittany Spears singing ‘womanizer’ the second bell rang. Crap I thought and jumped out of bed. I was slipping on my flip-flops when I heard the division leader roar, IF YOU’RE A WAITRESS AND YOU HAVEN'T GONE BY NOW, YOU NEED TO GO. NOW! I groaned and checked the chores list.

“Sharon, you’re the other waitress. Come on.” Sharon and I set the breakfast table, trying to think through our grogginess to remember that Leah would need two coffee milks, and that Emily would want a whole milk and a skim milk, so that she could have a tasty and healthy 2%. Then we sat at the table and waited. Envying our friends who were still in bed.

I have something called Celiac Disease. Its not that bad really, I’m not going to die from it, but it means that I cant eat wheat, barley, malt, and certain types of oat. Because of this I have mostly my own ‘special’ food made from rice flour and corn flour. I ate half a bowl of my cereal that my mom had sent up in a package after I had informed her that, the eggs they made at camp were the equivalent of a failed attempt at egg flavored Jell-O, taste and texture.

We returned to our cabin to get dressed and clean up. Our two counselors left the cabin to get out of our way. Having been waitress I didn’t have to worry about sweeping, or taking out the trash. I got dressed and went to the bathroom to brush my teeth. When I came back I quickly stuffed my scattered clothes into my trunk. Then I stepped back and took a running leap, my left foot stepping on the frame of a lower bunk. I slipped, grabbed empty air and fell back down. I groaned internally and walked to the edge of the room.

“Watch out!” I warned my friends as I ran towards the beds. I stepped on the lower bunks frame and bent my right leg up so I had it on the bed. Then I put my hands on the upper bunks frame and pulled myself all the way up. I proceeded to make my bed. When I had come to camp for the first time when I was 7 I had chosen a top bunk and had done so every year. Even when I moved up to the older girls division, where there were no bunk ladders, I held firm. I wanted a TOP bunk. And so my acrobatics became a regular thing. A third bell rang and one of my counselors came into the cabin and hurried us out of the cabin and to our first period activity. I talked with two other girls in my cabin, Lizette and Emma about how I hoped our cabin was clean enough and about how I really did not want to have an after dinner chore.

First period I had yoga and I was able to slowly get rid of the rest of my drowsiness. A second period bell rang and i waved goodbye to Emma and Lizette who were off to volleyball as I walked to High Ropes. High Ropes on Thursday’s and Fridays was the best. Today being a Thursday I was very exited. I met some of my friends on the path and we wound our way through the trees. At some point we started walking faster and then racing. We grabbed our helmets and harnesses and all tried to call going first. I ended up getting 2nd, and took pictures of my friend climb up a tree until she was about 30 ft high. Then she climbed onto a little platform and clipped herself onto the zipline. She faltered a bit, but finally jumped off and disappeared. I didn’t run after her to watch her go, I was already climbing the tree.

It is easy to say that someone is a wimp for hesitating before jumping. You can say that its perfectly safe and that you should just jump. But that is impossible. I crouched up high on the platform and peered over the edge, smiling at my friend who was taking pictures. Then I closed my eyes and told myself to JUMP. I couldn’t. Finally I took a step back and counted to three. Somehow I made myself jump to what would be certain death only to find that my brain had been right and that it was safe. After that first scary moment where I thought I was falling, and that the harness would break had passed, I hooked my legs around the harness and flipped myself upside-down.

Flying through the world with everything backwards is fun and something completely different to our normal world. As I came to the end of the line I saw my friend who had her arms up. I reached my hands down as far as I could, but in the end she had to jump to get her high five. A counselor with a ladder helped me get off of the line and soon we saw our other friend soaring towards us.

After high ropes I had soccer where I sweated in the sun and took turns being goalie and taking practice shots. My fourth period activity was called outdoor cooking. The counselor who taught it was an extremely nice guy named David, who always made sure there was something I could eat. Today he had brought pizzas for the other kids to cook on their flat rocks over their fires. For me he had brought a Taco. I had strategically picked outdoor cooking before lunch so that I wouldn’t go hungry if I didn’t eat the food served in the Mess Hall at lunch.

I honestly still wonder why the cook kept his job. He tried to give me fired rice. Knowing that fried rice usually had soy sauce I asked the cook if it did. ‘Yea’ he replied, “What you don’t like it? Well beggars cant be choosers I can’t make every kid an individual mea-”. I cut him of.

“I can’t eat soy sauce.” I told him simply.

“Soy sauce doesn’t have wheat” the cook sneered at me and I wished I was big and imposing so he would be scared of me, or at least would respect me. This guy seemed to hate kids. I wondered idly if he took this job to poison us all.

“Really, it doesn’t have wheat? Why don’t you check that. You know I could DIE if I eat wheat.” My voice dripped with sarcasm as I over dramatized my reaction. In reality I get violently sick when I eat wheat, but the cook didn’t know that.

“Jim, read the ingredients in the soy sauce bottle” the cook ordered one of his helpers. Jim was a relatively large fellow, but he was still smaller than the head cook. The difference between them was that Jim wore his fat like a happy boy that gets sweats while the man sneering at me was large and menacing.

“Soy, Wheat, Water, Salt.” Called Jim as he read the back of the huge jug of soy sauce.

The cook’s face turned a deep red and I leaned over the counter dividing the kitchen from the dining area and grabbed my cereal. Then I walked away triumphant.

But my meal was not the only meal the cook had messed up today. Halfway through lunch an announcement was made. ‘If you are eating the vegetarian dish, please throw it out immediately. Do not take another bite, do not swallow. The pieces of tofu are not in fact tofu, they are pieces of chicken.’ And the screams, yells, and gagging sounds of the vegetarians soon made a quick end to the meal.

Siesta was more fun than it usually was. My entire cabin of 8 girls crowded around one bed and we played cards. Then in the afternoon I participated in Water-skiing for my 5th and 6th activity. Water skiing is a double period because everyone needs to go tubing and water skiing each day. Today I did tubing first. Lizette was also in this activity at the same time and we got on the tube together and gave the ‘OK’ sign to the counselors.

Lizette fell off after the second big wave. She climbed on the boat and the counselors started the motor again and tried to shake me of the tube. I have a strong grip so when the tube went crashing over waves I managed to hold on. A gust of wind caught the underneath of the tube when it went crashing over a particularly huge wave, and blew us backwards. The tube acting like a large parachute. It landed upside-down in the water and I had to let go of it. Water-skiing was fun but it isn’t as social as tubing with a friend. I finally let myself fall over into the water because my knees were hurting.

After Water-skiing, I went to sailing where I sat in a 2 person boat with 3 people crammed in, and tried not to trip anyone while pulling in the lines. The wind was heavy and two boats capsized. The counselors made us go back to land when a 3rd boat capsized. Once inside, we all helped wash the sails that had gotten wet. I carried a sail over with the help of a boy who then clipped that end of the sail to a sting. I reached up to grab the other string, but could not reach. Finally the same boy that had clipped the other side came and clipped my side. Then we hosed up the sail and left it hanging to dry. When the bell rang I ran back to my cabin and grabbed my basket of shower necessities and then grabbed one of my towels off the clothing line.

I ended having to wait for a shower and took it at top speed trying not to see the huge mosquitoes that were flying around. The waitress bell was called and I met Sharon on the way to the Mess Hall. Dinner was hamburgers and I had mine without the bun. After dinner announcements were made and it was declared who had firewood and palace and we all let out a sigh of relief when it wasn’t our cabin.

Instead of a chore my cabin had something called ‘Devotions’. That was something where the counselors asked a question and we answered it and it was one of those what is said in this cabin never leaves this cabin things. Tonight the question was ‘what is your pet peeve’.

I listened with one ear to the other girls answer and thought of what I would say. At first I was going to say my shortness, because it bugs me when people point it out, or when I’m treated unfairly because of it. Its annoying to be separated because of it, or even to not be able to do certain things for safety reasons because of it. I think this gets me the most because then I cant even be mad at a person. I just have to be mad at my shortness and I end up mad at myself which is never fun.

Then I thought of this morning, me vaulting onto my bed. I got past that obstacle. My friends made the extra jump to help me I thought, thinking of my friend jumping up to give me a high five to me while I had been on the zip line. And I thought about how even if I wasn’t tall and imposing, I had still shown the cook he was wrong. And I had managed to hold on longer than lizzet on the tube, I had even had a more exiting ride on the tube because of my smallness. And in sailing when that boy had hung the sail up for me, even people I didn’t know very well helped me.

“Claire, what’s your pet peeve” the counselor asked me.

I hesitated “my pet peeve is when…” I didn’t mind being short that much, not when I could always get over the obstacles. No that didn’t really bother me, what bothered me was the way people judged me on my height. “My pet peeve is when people judge me by what I look like, and not by who I am.”

=Kindred = Press the play button, and then read along with me! media type="file" key="Claire's Kindred.m4a" width="300" height="50" **__ Ain't I a Woman? __** In the Antebellum south, the role of women was very different than it is now, but even within the 1800’s the role of women varied by race. In the book Kindred, Octavia E. Butler enumerates their differences through the point of view of a 23-year-old black woman named Dana, from 1976. Dana is somehow transported back in time, where she is forced to act like a slave to protect her identity. From Dana’s unique point of view it becomes clear that the way black women were treated and the way white women were treated were worlds apart.

The slave women from the 1800s were forced to not only do the gentler jobs in the house, but were also forced to work in the fields. And working in the fields was sometimes a punishment for both male and female slaves. Dana was sent to work there when she ‘let’ Tom Weylin die. While she was in the field on page 212, another woman working in the field tells her to “slow down, take a lick or two if you have to. You kill yourself today, he’ll push you to kill yourself everyday.” Even though Dana was a woman, she was going to be pushed to the edge of her limits. The slaves in the field were all forced to work as fast as possible, regardless of gender. Another time where Dana is pushed to her limit is right after she had been whipped. “You stop beatin’ them cothes ‘fore you fall over.” Alice told Dana on page 182, “I’ll do this, you go back to the cookhouse.” Dana’s ‘gentility’ was not considered when Mr. Edwards ordered Dana to work immediately after being beaten. But even more strange than this overlooking of the woman’s gentility is the over looking of a black woman’s virtue.

During the 1800’s, a white woman’s virginity was her most important virtue. Worlds away from that, and yet somehow at the same time as that, black slave women often played whore for their master. During one of Dana's many mysterious trips to the past, Dana accidentally takes her white husband, Kevin, with her. When Margaret Weylin catches Dana leaving Kevin’s room on page 93, Margaret shouts “You filthy black whore! This is a Christian house!” This demonstrates that Margaret assumes that Dana had been playing whore. Margaret is so used to the idea of black slaves pleasuring their masters that her mind immediately jumps to this conclusion. Furthermore, her reaction to Dana proves that she condemns the black women who are forced to do it. In Margaret's world prostitution is unholy, but in the world of black women, it is the norm. Worse, and more disgusting than prostitution, is the raping that the black female slaves would receive if they refused to comply with their master’s wishes. But slaves were not the only black women raped by white men. On page 123, Dana confronts Rufus on the fact that he raped Alice, who at that time had been a free black “I wouldn’t have hurt her if she hadn’t just kept saying no.” Alice may have been a free woman, but she was not free from social stigma. Rufus was used to every black, not just his slaves, doing what he said, and when the strong willed Alice refused to give him what he wished, Rufus decided to take it. What must also be considered is that there was a stigma attached to loving a black woman instead of just lusting for her. Rufus could not woo Alice like he might have wanted to, because if he had, he would have been shunned, and he would have been out cast. Rufus raped Alic because it was the only way he could get his 'love' and not be shunned by the other whites. Raping a black woman was acceptable, but loving one was not. Because of this, Black women were doubly cursed; not only were they raped, but could not expect to not get raped by the white men that loved them. Dana was often caught in such problems, and often made Rufus mad at her because her opinions were usually on the side of Alice, and her ideas were much more progressive than Rufus would have liked.

Dana’s coming from 1976 caused quite a few problems. First of all, she was not complaisant with being in slavery, but at the same time, she had not learned to hate whites with such a passion. Add that to the fact that Dana could read and write, and speak proper grammar, and you’ve got an interesting dilemma. Dana was often considered a ‘white negro’ by both races, and was hated by both races because of it. Dana was caught on a planet of her own, on the border of the black world, and only arms reach away from the white world. During one of Alice’s frequent fits Alice yells at Dana on page 160 “doctor-nigger, you think you know so much, reading-nigger, //white-nigger.//” Dana is accused of being half white, and is hated because of it. Clearly the fact that Dana had many ‘white’ characteristics earned her no points, despite the fact that Dana used these ‘white’ attributes to help people. Dana’s ‘white’ qualities made her a threat to Tom Weylin, who was used to ‘dumb’ slaves. One time, on page 102, while Dana was reading to Rufus, Tom Weylin decides to berate his son. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself! A nigger can read better than you!” to which Rufus replies, “she can read better than you too!” Dana was an educated unknown slave, and did not fall into any of the categories. White women were not officially slaves, but still had to bow down to the white male supremacy. White women were also not specifically educated, and could get by with no education at all. Black women could be slaves, but no matter if they were or were not, they were suppressed and their freedoms were limited. Dana was black and was educated even better than the white males on the plantation, she had also saved Rufus’s life many times, which made both Tom and Rufus indebted to her. Clearly Dana did not fit anyone’s idea of a black slave woman at that time, and this made nearly everyone uncomfortable. In return, Dana was uncomfortable, she does not fit in any of the categories of that time and shes self-conscious and nervous because she knows that in this age, black women had no gentility, and that the black woman's virtue is ignored.

The way black women were treated and the way white women were treated were worlds apart in the Antebellum South during the 1800’s and Danas unique point of view gives us a look into both worlds as well as what it was like in the middle. The difference in the treatment of females of different races was and still is a problem, and is a subject much talked about. The Ain’t I a Woman poem by Sojourner Truth is an eloquent illustration of the differences between black and white women.

“That man over there say a woman needs to be helped into carriages and lifted over ditches and to have the best place everywhere. Nobody ever helped me into carriages or over mud puddles or gives me a best place. . .And ain't I a woman? Look at me Look at my arm! I have plowed and planted and gathered into barns and no man could head me. . . And ain't I a woman? I could work as much and eat as much as a man-- when I could get to it-- and bear the lash as well and ain't I a woman?” =Macbeth = Press the play button, and then read along with me! media type="file" key="Claire's Lady Macbeth.mp3" width="240" height="20" There’s the blood on my hands and there’s the blood on the floor There’s guilt in my heart and I can’t take it any more
 * __ Lady Macbeth: A Spoken Word Piece __**

My lady said a messenger there is a message My husbands now thane of Cawdor But wait wait there’s more See these witches told him he’d be king And that means id be queen And that’s my dream

King Duncan’s got to go. King Duncan’s got to go. King Duncan’s got to go and Macbeth has got to do it

Yea our bravery needs to be reinforced See Macbeths kinda worried Real afraid Asking questions like what if we fail? And I think that he wants to bail
 * Oh spirits, spirits unsex me here**
 * Make thick my blood**
 * Stop up th’ access and passage to remorse**

So I pulled up my pants and told him No And in the end we did prevail.
 * We fail?**
 * No**
 * But screw your courage to the sticking place**
 * And well not fail**

Yea there’s the blood on my hands and there’s the blood on the floor There’s guilt in my heart and I can’t take it any more

Macbeth keeps worrying Guess he’s wearing his kilt He’s being eaten up by all this guilt Seeing ghosts Now we seem like crazy hosts So I tell him
 * Things without all remedy**
 * Should be without regard**
 * What’s done**
 * Is done.**

Now he gets it yea he’s the man. But now there’s people poaching our land MacDuff is coming and he must prepare And of my own guilt I’ve become aware.

Yea there’s the blood on my hands There’s the blood on the floor There’s guilt in my heart and I can’t take it any more

Out out Out out
 * Out damned spot out I say**
 * One two**
 * Why then tis time to do ‘t**
 * Hell is merky**
 * Fie my lord fie**
 * A soldier and a feared**
 * What need we fear**
 * Who knows it when none can call our power to account?**
 * Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him.**

Yea there’s the blood on my hands There’s the blood on the floor There’s guilt in my heart and I can’t take it any more I’m dying Dying Dead


 * Out out brief candle**
 * Life’s but a walking shadow**
 * A poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage**
 * And then is heard no more.**

=Journals = Press the play button, and listen to my journals!

media type="file" key="Claire's Journals.mp3" width="240" height="20" __**Why do we write?**__


 * We write to share...
 * with people who live in the futur.
 * with people i will never meet
 * a story in its unchanged form.
 * We write to remember...
 * the begging of story's so that we can create the endings.
 * things in our imagination.
 * events
 * feelings that we don't want to forget
 * that perfect phrasing of something.

__**What makes a good story?**__ A good story is....
 * a story with a plot
 * beginning
 * rising action
 * climax
 * falling action
 * ending
 * a story with REAL conflict.
 * a story that we can relate to ourselves
 * a story whose loose ends are all tied up at the end.
 * a story you can remember

media type="file" key="Claire's journals 2.mp3"