Eric Chen, 3/31/23, Period 2

Craft a piece of FAN fiction related to any of the reading we’ve done in class that addresses one or more of the following:

• Literary elements (i.e. structure, tone, diction, mood, irony, and figurative language) to craft a narrative.
• Structural features of drama (stage directions, character attributions/tags, dialogue, monologues, and/or soliloquies) to craft a script.
• Multidimensional characters to develop themes and create socio-political metaphors.

The day was breaking, and the air was heavy with the weight of mourning. My four sisters stood beside me, garbed in black, as we prayed for the safe return of Freniere. I knew that if he was lost, our family would be shattered beyond repair. The candles flickered, threatening to burn out, mirroring the dim hope that flickered in my heart.

Staring out at the upcoming dawn thinking about what I would do if my brother doesn't come back alive, I caught the glimpse of a shadow. Curious, I held a candle and advanced towards the window thinking that perhaps there was a bird or some other creature that got in accidentally. As I turned the corner, what I saw was no creature. I saw an angel, resplendent in his handsome features and chiseled jaw. His skin tone pale just like an angel without a speck of imperfections. Has God finally answered my prayers? How is there a handsome angel in my house? Was he really sent from god? His eyes, a piercing green, held me transfixed until he spoke.

“'Tell your sisters to go back, I come to tell you of your brother. Do as I say.” His voice rang out like church bells, breaking me out of my daze.

I did as I was told, telling my sisters it was just my imagination. At this point I was desperate for instructions. My brother is probably dead, having not come back since midnight. Be an angel or devil, I would follow this divine messenger’s words. Of course, how could someone as handsome as that be a devil. The next words he spoke shattered me.

“But what I have to tell you is of the greatest importance. Your brother fought bravely and won the duel, but wait. . You must know now, he is dead. ”

When those words came out of his mouth, something in my head shattered. Although I knew that it is most likely what happened, it was hard to wrap my head around. I wasn’t able to process his next words until he left in a flash. The words seem to hit my head, especially what he said next. Take charge and take over the plantation? How am I, a woman, supposed to do that? That has never been a precedent? It's not socially acceptable but I am to do as I must to keep my family up and running. Keeping a stone face and taking powerful strides, I go and take over my brother's position, hoping for the best.

The days were bleak. We were outcasts, ostracized by the other families. My former friends shunned me, and my sisters complained incessantly, making me question if what I did was the right thing.

My thoughts were consumed with him, and I often found myself lost in reverie, reliving our interactions. Was his instructions truly correct? This was until one night as I was managing accounts, a voice spoke seemingly out of nowhere.

“ Don’t turn around!” I recognized that voice instantly. It was that angel from before and a part of me longed to see his face again.

Yet I followed his instructions and continued to stare at my account book.

“I know it's tough right now, the other people talking badly about you don’t understand what you and your family are going through right now. You must hold a ball for a philanthropic cause. It will help reestablish your relationships with those who were once close to you. Your wealth would convince them.”

I hung on his every word, desperate for any guidance he could give but there was something else I wanted more. Just a single glimpse on his face. So I began to beg him.

“Please just let me have a look at you. You know all about me but I don’t know about you. You helped me so much, yet I couldn’t even get a look at my benefactor?”

I have never said those words before. There were tears coming down my eyes yet there was no response. It was what felt like silence for an eternity until it clicked. I turned around and indeed he had left just like he came.

Again, I did as I was told. Yet this time I was wondering was he truly an angel? Why would an angel not let me look at him? My thoughts were occupied with him so much so sometimes I would blank out and think of our interactions when I was doing accounts. I longed for him to return.

The seasons passed, and winter came again. I remarried, and the weight of my burdens lightened as I savored my time with my new husband. I almost forgot about the mysterious benefactor who had helped me so much until one evening when news of a plantation fire reached me. I sent people to help fight the flames, but the incident left me with a sense of unease. How could a plantation catch fire? Was it arson?

As I recorded my thoughts in my diary, I heard the voice again, instantly recognizing it as that of my benefactor. "Don’t turn around," he said. "I've never brought you harm. I ask you now for a key, and your promise that no one will try to enter that room until tonight. Then I'll tell you all."

Desperation tinged his words, and I hesitated for a moment before asking, "Why have you come to me tonight?"

“Did I not help you at the very moment when you most needed guidance, when you alone stood strong among those who are dependent and weak? Did I not twice offer you good counsel? And haven't I watched over your happiness ever since? Give me the key to a room. Let no one come near it till nightfall. I swear to you I would never bring you harm”

Then suddenly another thought raced through my mind. I didn't want to believe it.

“And if I don't . . . if I believe you come from the devil!”

I turned around just as he put out my candle. I was unable to take a good look at him. His back contrasted the dark windows and he slowly spoke “If you don't, and if you believe me to be the devil, I shall die.”

I relented and gave him the key. I followed his instructions again for the third time. Perhaps it would also be the last. Not wanting him to vanish again I locked the door from outside. I wasn’t able to sleep that night thinking about our interaction. Thoughts would race through my head. If he was the devil, why would he help me in my darkest times? That's something an angel would do, why would he do it instead? If what he does is good, is he still a devil?

The following evening, I approached the door to the room with trepidation, knowing that what I would find inside could shatter my beliefs and perceptions. As I saw him, I was still as entranced as the first time. He hasn’t changed a single bit even after a year. It was at this point my suspicions were confirmed. He was the owner of the plantations that burned down. The one with the slaves disappearing. The one where the slaves were accusing him of voodoo magic.

“You are the one who came to me before, and you are the owner of Pointe du Lac. You argil”

“I mean you no harm, I need only a carriage and horses . . . the horses I left last night in the pasture” He didn’t deny it. I was hoping he would. Or for him to come up with an excuse for me to believe. But he didn’t. Instead he looked nervous and desperate.

“What are you! You're from the devil. You were from the devil when you came to meet me the first time” I pressed him as I walked up holding my lantern to his face.

“The devil,” He finally answered. He seemed to be in pain when answering that question.

At this point everything was a blur. I hoped it could have been my dream. I hoped that he wasn’t actually from the devil. I hoped I didn’t see him this last time. I hoped I would have still believed him to be an angel.

Everything passed so quickly. I seemed to have noticed hands on both my wrists and a lot of shouting. I was disoriented but eventually the hands let go and I was thrown to the ground. I got up and I don’t know what came over me. It was as if I was possessed again. I continued questioning him, tears trickling down my face.

“Why did you protect me last night! Why have you come to me alone!”

I performed the sign of the crass and held the lantern I was holding in front of me.
“ Did you expect me to go up in a puff of smoke?'And where would I go?”

I wasn’t able to answer him.

“And where would I go, to hell, from whence I came? To the devil, from whom I came? Suppose I told you I know nothing of the devil. Suppose I told you that I don't even know if he exists!”

He looked at the door with a pause before continuing.

“I don't know whether I come from the devil or not! I do not know what I am!' I shouted at Babette, my voice deafening in my own sensitive ears. "I am to live to the end of the world, and I don't even know what I am!”

Then he left again like he always did leaving me alone with my thoughts. And this time he didn’t come back.

Oscar Chen 3/31 PD 7

 

• Creativity & Fiction

• Craft a piece of FAN fiction related to any of the reading we’ve done in class that addresses one or more of the following: 

• Literary elements (i.e. structure, tone, diction, mood, irony, and figurative language) to craft a narrative.

• Structural features of drama (stage directions, character attributions/tags, dialogue, monologues, and/or soliloquies) to craft a script.

• Multidimensional characters to develop themes and create socio-political metaphors.

I set down my bowl and sat down atop one of the many rickety stools that litter the otherwise barren room save for the occasional villager. The faint flicker of the tiny flame casts a disproportionately large shadow upon everyone as if to swallow us into the depths of despair. A thick layer of unease had grown over, encasing Varna in a cocoon of doubt. 

Vampires. That’s the only explanation. I’ve watched villagers get picked off like flies as if us mortals were mere insects to some elaborate game of some sick, demented vampire, determined to curse us with its presence. We had killed one some days ago, under the observation of some foreigner. Dug up its grave and drove a stake into its accursed heart. Truth be told I didn’t believe it was over, and oh so right I was as not days had gone by before the foreigner's partner had fallen to it. 

The man now sits in the corner of the inn, muttering incoherently in the English few of us understood. We had tried to explain to him what would become of his lady and that we must exorcize her promptly but he exploded on us, vehemently refusing. He believes in neither us nor the existence of vampires. The poor man who we later learn is named Morgan, was obviously going mad, yet adamant in his refusal of us, even cussing us out with no doubt derogatory slang.

Before I even brought the contents of the bowl to my mouth I heard the sounds of a carriage pull up to the entrance. Obviously everyone else heard too since they all perked up giving way to the sunken eyes of tormented men. I heaved a sigh, and stood up calmly. I couldn’t let it show how much it terrified me, so I grabbed onto my shawl and walked over to the entrance, opening the creaky latched door only the slightest sliver that I could see through to the outsiders. I felt such relief when I saw the well-dressed man exit a lavish carriage, a young girl in tow. 

Nevertheless I had to be on guard, maybe not for me but for the young man. His and his child’s decadent attire suggest they are strangers to these lands, possibly oblivious to the going ons of this region. Before I could caution him about anything, he pushed up to the entrance insistent on their intrusion. The young girl whispered to him something I did not catch, and he traced his gaze towards the crude apotropaics we’ve hung, seemingly unfazed. Perhaps the Lord had told me, but I had a sense then that this outlander need not know of our circumstances, and that I would only urge him to leave at dawn. 

Getting settled I prepared food for our guests, painfully aware of the tense atmosphere. It was then that Morgan called out to the guest in English, his drunken disheveled appearance even hard for us to watch. To my surprise the newcomer also spoke English and responded to him. Morgan urged him to leave at once, to which I interjected with my suggestion of moving only at dawn. Morgan had then told him what we needed to do with his lady, much to my dismay. I had this sense that he must not know, and so I threatened to throw them out. I was reaching my breaking point yet they continued conversing.

They returned some time later, the newcomer demanding where it was. I had then given into his threats and told him everything. I knew I had failed then, but either for mine or his sake, I ripped the crucifix off the wall and thrusted it onto him. I can only pray that is enough to protect his soul. He left swiftly with the young lady. I had kneeled down to say some prayers when Morgan, now fully broken, burst through the door of the inn onto the desolate streets of Varna, a crazed look in his eyes. Perhaps this is our only time to kill his lady before she turns into a vampire herself. Perhaps this is our opportunity to rid ourselves of our vampire plights.

Anton Ginzburg 2/14/2023 Pd 7

 Grendel was a monster feared by all who knew of him. He lived alone in the forest, far

from human settlements, where he could be free to be himself. He was accustomed to living

alone and had grown accustomed to the silence that accompanied his solitary life. That was

until he saw her. The woman who would change everything.

She was walking through the forest one day, picking wildflowers and humming a tune.

Grendel watched her from a distance, fascinated by her beauty. Her long brown hair flowed

down her back, and her bright green eyes sparkled in the sunlight. She was unlike anyone he

had ever seen before, and he couldn't help but feel drawn to her.

Grendel observed her for days, watching her every move. He began to realize that she

was different from the others he had encountered in the past. She did not fear him or scream in

terror when she saw him. Instead, she saw him as beautiful, as if he were just like any other

living being.

One day, Grendel decided to approach her. He knew it was a risk, but he couldn't resist

the urge to be near her. As he drew closer, she looked up and saw him. For a moment, there

was silence. Then, she smiled.

"Hello," she said. "What brings you here?"

Grendel was taken aback by her kindness. He had never encountered a human who had

spoken to him like this before. He hesitated before replying, "I saw you walking, and I couldn't

resist coming to say hello."

She smiled again. "I'm glad you did. My name is Anna. What's yours?"

"Grendel," he said.

Anna and Grendel talked for hours that day. They spoke about everything from the

weather to their hopes and dreams. Grendel couldn't believe how comfortable he felt around

her. She made him feel as if he was just another person in the world, not a monster.

Days turned into weeks, and Grendel and Anna continued to meet in secret. They would

talk, laugh, and share their lives with each other. Grendel had never felt so alive, so happy. He

knew that Anna was the one person who truly understood him, and he cherished their time

together.

But their happiness was short-lived. One day, Anna was caught speaking with Grendel

by the king's soldiers. They accused her of being a witch and sentenced her to death. Grendel

watched in horror as Anna was dragged away, screaming for him to help her.

He knew he had to do something. He couldn't let the woman he loved be executed for

simply talking to him. Grendel waited until nightfall and then set out to seek revenge.

He found the king's castle and broke down the door. The guards tried to stop him, but

Grendel was too powerful. He smashed his way through the castle, killing anyone who got in his

way. He searched for the people who had accused Anna of being a witch and found them

cowering in a room.

Grendel did not hesitate. He killed them all, one by one, until there was no one left. He

then returned to the forest, where he mourned the loss of Anna.

From that day on, Grendel knew that he would never be able to love again. He was filled

with rage and anger at the injustice that had been done to him and the woman he loved. He

roamed the forest, a solitary figure, until the end of his days.

Some say that Grendel's spirit still haunts the forest, searching for the one person who

could see him as beautiful. But others say that he is just a myth, a monster who was created by

the fears.

Joel Alex, Period 6, 3/28/23

Socio-political Consciousness

• What are your thoughts and feelings about issues of inequity, oppression, and power?

• How do you reflect critically on your own beliefs, assumptions, values, and experiences, and how these can influence your perception of self and others?

Issues of inequity, oppression, and power imbalances can certainly have a major impact on the way we perceive ourselves and others. For example, a person with access to many opportunities and resources in life will have a much different perspective on an issue than someone less fortunate.

There is a famous saying in medicine that states, "Prevention is better than cure." If we take a social or economic issue that causes a large disparity of inequalities between people, we can see that it is much better to prevent the issue from ever arising than to stop its consequences.

Many people think that many issues in society are not solvable or have been indoctrinated into thinking that an issue has existed since the beginning of humanity. This is typically the case, but it is not true. If a country, group, or social movement is founded with morals and values intended not to create major social problems or inequalities, there is far less chance of these inequalities forming. Once conditions arise to form major inequalities, it is very difficult to eliminate them.

Of course, society can never be completely free from inequalities and power imbalances. One thing that humans have practiced since the beginning of time is tribalism. Human evolution has occurred in small hunter-gatherer groups, slowly accumulating into more agricultural societies over time. This means that humans tend to form groups. You could say that it is an evolutionary trait, and you would be correct. It is also one of the reasons why humans and other primates are so much more intelligent than the rest of the animal kingdom.

So, humans create groups and classes. However, that does not mean that these classes or inequalities have existed forever. They are often created by humans and usually intended to create inequalities and power imbalances in society that have not previously existed.

If you feel that something is unjust, I believe that you should do everything in your power to address these problems, regardless of whether they affect you personally. Even if social and economic disparities cannot be solved in our lifetimes, progress can still be made. We should not always use what a government or society says as a means of morality since these things are also socially constructed.

These are my personal views, so they can change over time.

Steven Chen, Period 2, 03/29/23

 

• Craft a piece of FAN fiction related to any of the reading we’ve done in class that addresses one or more of the following: 

• Literary elements (i.e. structure, tone, diction, mood, irony, and figurative language) to craft a narrative.

• Structural features of drama (stage directions, character attributions/tags, dialogue, monologues, and/or soliloquies) to craft a script.

• Multidimensional characters to develop themes and create socio-political metaphor

“The Children Of Loki”/Fenrir focused,  “How Loki killed his Child” FanFic edition (Fenrir hasn’t been chained up in this edition)

Loki the god of mischief has done it again, with his good looks, he seduced the giantess Angrboda. And with her came the birth of the three monsters Fenrir, Jourmugand, and Hel, who are said to bring chaos into the world. 

“I’ve come for my son who howls at even the greatest of gods Fenrir, bring him at once!” said Loki. Fenrir dashed with everyone one of his steps shaking the earth, “Father is there something you need for me?” Loki smiled mischiefly and said, “Ah yes my son who grew up with the pace of Hermod the Swift, I do indeed need you to go to Asgard for me to spy on Odin for me.”  Fenrir, who is said to have the greatest loyalty to Loki, asked no question and roared in excitement, shapeshifted into a normal great wolf, and dashed to where Odin was. “That little bastard is as simple-minded as I’ve last seen him.” laughed Loki (playing a prank on his son)

Fenrir said to be the most ferocious monster in all of Asgard finally arrived near the palace Odin resided in with his disguise. From a distance, Ullr the god of hunting rejoiced with mead on one of his hands and said, “Today we hunt and drink!.” Hearing this Fenrir readily lay down faking to be already dead. Ullr sees a wolf of great size in the distance and runs to it. “Well well well what do we have here warriors of Asgard? It seems my great presence had rendered this wolf dead.” Ullr and his men hurried back to the royal palace Valaskjalf to offer this great wolf to their leader Odin. 

By the time Ullr and his men arrive they see Loki standing at the palace entrance. “Who do we have here? It’s Ullr the great and his pack” said Loki with a sense of mockery. Ullr, agitated at this comment said “Loki … step aside we have an offering for the great god Odin.” Loki realizes that the great wolf is his son Fenrir in disguised thought of a plan. “Where’s the rush? I've heard that you Ullr are the best at hunting in all of Asgard, well today I would like to challenge your title” said Loki. Ullr, thinking it’s a good chance to humiliate the unfavorable god Loki accepted the challenge and called his men with him. As Ullr, his men, and Loki went to the nearby great forest Fenrir awoke, “As expected of father as cunning as ever.”  Given this chance, Fenrir hurriedly entered the palace just outside of Odin’s throne room where a banquet was being held. Odin said with excitement with cups of mead filling his table “Drink Drink Drink!” Fenrir realizing that Odin and the rest of the gods are intoxicated right now thought that it was the best chance to listen to his words. Odin said drunkenly, “I Odin the one-eyed All-Father have seen into the future where Loki’s bastard son Fenrir will die in the arms of my son the great god Vidar.” Hearing this enraged Fenrir though he kept the anger within himself so that he wouldn’t be caught amongst the gods of Asgard. 

Fenrir hurried to Vidi, the great hall of Asgard where Vidar resides, but couldn’t find him. He started looking around Asgard in a hurry till he stumbled upon the river between Asgard and the land of the giants. Vidar was there fighting off sea creatures for fun without noticing his surroundings. Fenrir, noticing this, sneaked up to Vidar mid-battle and turned into his original form, and swallowed  Vidar whole without even him realizing what had happened. 

“Now who will kill the great Fenrir who fears no one in the whole nine realms,” said Fenrir exhilarated after killing his sworn enemy Vidar. As soon as he has finished his sentence a giant arrow that has been fired at the speed of light drilled through Fenrir’s heart. “Who… who did this… how can I, the son of Loki the great Fenrir, die..” From a few miles away from where Fenrir was Ullr and Loki having their final match as to who can shoot an animal from the greatest distance away. And so did Loki. He shot his last arrow with great strength and pierced his own son’s chest “My son Fenrir nooooooooo!” 

Sean Zhao, Period 7, 3/24/2023

 Socio-political Consciousness

In our government and economics class, we were given a macro(no pun intended) view of the world. We were able to see the billions and billions of dollars that governments and powerful figures use as chips, each the collective sum of an unfathomable amount of human effort, under the control of a single person. The obvious question that’s raised is whether or not this is a just system. The government was created of, by, and for the people, yet the average citizen would be hard pressed to see any reasonable government action based on their opinion alone. And yet this view of inequity and inequality is limited by our own experiences. I’ve been extremely thankful that throughout my entire life, I’ve taken food, shelter, and personal safety(to an extent) for granted. To know that my next meal isn’t superfluous or that I’d have a place to sleep are factors that affect how I experience and understand inequality. Another angle to consider is racial discrimination. Again, barring some tasteless remarks hurled at me on the street, I’ve never experienced violence or oppression based on my skin. When lockdown first started, and many began to villainize China as the puppet master behind the pandemic, my parents expressed concerns about leaving our homes. Phones passed over dinner, emblazoned with headlines detailing the latest assault or restaurant vandalized. I’m sure these headlines reignited old fears they had when they first came over to America. The fear of being rejected, hated, or even attacked. We count our lucky stars that nothing has happened. 

I feel that my identity as a Chinese first generation American has led me to assume certain values. Firstly, success must only be gained through hard work and perseverance. Not a bad value to be instilled into you. I’ve always seen myself as self sacrificing to a degree. Sleep can be sacrificed for a higher grade. Days off turn into extra overtime. I put much stock into my attitude that I will be able to succeed. Yet, I can see how this sort of mindset sets me up for heartbreak. To work incredibly hard, struggle, and sacrifice all for nothing, would be one of my mayday scenarios. Another aspect of myself is my desire to stand out. It was emboldened by my experience applying to college. As a child, I (naively) believed that as long as I showed them my passions, I’d get in. Then came discussions surrounding affirmative action, equality in the college admissions process, and another source of prejudice against Asian Americans. Though I’m able to see the merit in diversifying college, and the wonderful opportunities it can create, I feel much of the discussion around it, on a base level, addresses the amount of Asians in college as an issue to be fixed. I do not want to take a stance on this issue, due to my lack of research and knowledge on this topic, but I feel that this is yet another avenue that has led to more discrimination and anger towards my community. 

Justin Zhou, Period 7, 3/26/23

A Tale of Two Brothers

They knew not to draw the Valknut in front of others – but they were just kids. And they just wanted to know. They drew it on rocks and in the dirt, watching as the symbol’s bitter presence collapsed whatever it was drawn upon. It would tarnish everything. Glass, silver, gold. It was the symbol of death. And when his brother wasn’t watching, Loki would put worms on top of it. Only when his brother wasn’t watching. 

Thor loved worms. It would’ve made him sad. But Loki didn’t care much about them. He wanted to see what would happen. What it would do to them. He was curious. 

But one time, his brother was watching. And his brother loved frogs. 

An unknown amount of time later… 

Loki knew about Aurgelmir and the Ginnungagap. He admired the endless intricacy Odin had put into creating Asgard and the nine realms. But he too understood the compounds that drove reality here. Tasked with creating much fickler forms of life, he sought his brother’s advice. 

“Look at our creation. It has mass! It is no longer featureless. I can create angles and intent. It is given my design. Now it’s your job to give it soul. Give it a lifeline. Blood. But not mine or yours; our blood is sharp and radiant. There is blood all around us for you to use. It’s your turn now brother! I’ve simply constructed templates. It is your job to give them soul.” 

Loki realized that he loved to design. So he designed, and Thor created. Together, they began to construct the inhabitants of Midgard, those who roamed aimlessly abroad the giant plane, and who soon became the first inhabitants of Helheim. 

They discussed how Midgard’s design would help their creation’s feeble bodies. It would be populated with sustenance and compounds, made with Asgard’s beauty in mind. 

“What about trees?” Thor asked. 

“Trees? Yes. They are beautiful. We will give them trees inferior in design to Yggdrasil, but still fruitful and sound…” 

The beings they constructed together were empty shells. Thor noted the designs Loki created lacked soul. His intention was to create servants, faithfully loyal but weak-minded followers. Loki had designed the creatures to be molded in the shape of the Gods. Anthropomorphic and hollow, the templates were soulless, so Thor deviated from his brother’s vision. He weaved in much more soul, and gave the creatures will. Something Thor loved. 

“Brother, what have you created? It is misshapen and ill. Was there an error in my design?” 

“...” 

“I see. These aren’t the correct ratios. You cannot weave into the constructs so much soul. It becomes frail and unstable. I’ve told you this before yet you’ve wasted the materials I have gathered on this mistake and miscreation.” 

Thor retorted, “It can act upon its own will. To live for what it believes in, not what we tell it. They are not vermin. I have fabricated purity from nothing.” 

“But you’ve created something that can betray us. Something capable of Ragnarok. We cannot keep them here. You’ve given them too much power, and such little control.”

In spite of his brother’s protests, Thor opted to keep them. He called them humans. 

“Thor, I should be responsible for creating the creatures. By my hand. They will be weak, but at least they will be loyal.” 

Loki wanted to punish the humans for their instability. They were weak. Helheim would serve them well he thought, a fiery cage where they would serve their eternal sentence. 

Thor believed they should be given the chance to reach Valhalla. Through… something. Martyrdom? Glory? The humans were far too complex for now. He needed to observe them. He did not allow Loki to banish them to Hel. 

Loki, in his spite, saw the beings with soul as frail and volatile. They were lesser than him. Vermin. Unable to be controlled. He shared his vision of what the creatures inhabiting Midgard should be, much to Thor’s dismay: 

“We can begin with stone, fire and silver. The ratios are simple. They are streamlined and loyal. What should we call them? Automatons? Guardians? They’re simple creatures. No dance, no will. These creatures do not need soul.”  

But Thor loved soul. 

Over time, Loki’s desire to create and design only grew. He despised Thor’s love for the humans and lamented over his brother’s baseless pity. Thor wished to create similar creatures. Ones weaved together with soul, who could think for themselves. 

His brother’s disdain and disregard for the life on Midgard had become far too evident. Loki thought that the creatures were not worth saving. Thor began to despise Loki for his lack of empathy, but Loki remained undeterred. He hoped his brother would eventually share his vision of creating servants.

 “Only your hands could have realized my designs brother. It is done! Come, see. There is no gap in its sequence. We can travel through these gates to Midgard instantaneously.” Thor claimed as he designed a gateway to Midgard. 

“There is truly no force nor obstacle we cannot overcome together brother – with my designs and your creations. Yet I see your somber gaze will not lift. Please, let us take this gate and step foot into another world…”

Loki continued, “If you insist brother, I will go first. Forget about those creatures and do not dawdle. I want to see joy on your face.”

 

This was no primordial teleporter. To the inhabitants of Midgard, they were gates. But Thor’s sorrow was not for the dying planets or the lesser beings among them. He knew his brother would be angry if he gave the creatures gifts from the Gods. But despite his heavy heart, Thor wearily carved the Valknut across the teleporter’s sigil as Loki went through.  

The brothers never learned what it meant to truly build. The designs and creations were mere extensions; eyes where they couldn’t see. Feet where they couldn’t stride. Hands where they couldn’t reach. But slowly, Thor’s frustration slowly dissipated into his creation’s proud smiles. And so he left them alone to grow on Midgard, with delusions of freedom, living in blissful ignorance of the sacrifice and tale the two brothers left behind. 

Mariam Zihiri, Period 2, 3/27/23

Atomic Habits & Growth

• At this current point in time, what specific standards have you set for yourself?
• How and why did you come to craft these standards?
• How do you demonstrate resilience towards achieving these standards?
• How do you assess yourself? What adjustments do you make? How often?

At this current point in time, I am at the point where I am almost done with receiving all of my college results back and I am now preparing myself for the end of my senior year. I’ve reached a point where I need to start researching the opportunities that I have been given and decide what will be the best thing for me to do in my next four years of education. I have noticed that there have been times where I have lost motivation or have not been able to put as much effort into my work as I used to, but I almost always quickly recognize when I fall into those patterns and work on changing them almost immediately. A standard that I am setting myself up to this year is to bring myself back to my old work ethic and allow myself to think of the consequences of my actions before I do them. I came to craft these standards during the first two months of the year when the second semester started because I knew that this was it for me, I was done with my college applications and the rest of the year would be, what I believed, “a walk in the park.” I let myself ignore responsibilities and would never think about the consequences beforehand because I had the mindset “it can't be as bad as before.” When I started to continue with these patterns for weeks, I finally started to feel the effects of them with things like the new policy changes in the school during second semester and with deadlines that I kept missing that would affect my grade greatly. I knew that I had gotten to a point where I could not continue like this, and eventually sat myself down and planned ways to bring myself to the work ethic I had in the first three years of high school.

Holding myself to a goal like this would prove to be very difficult, especially since I was getting all of my college results and was seeing all of these offers and potential future opportunities I had for myself. When I saw my future being given to me, I lost motivation to do anything at the moment, and felt like all I wanted to do was relax. But, I knew that there was no way I would be able to go on like that and not have it affect me in the long run. I was able to stay resilient towards these standards out of fear that it would continue onto my future and hurt me. I have to assess myself by looking at the number of missing assignments that I had, I assess myself on how much work I need to get done and how much time I have to do it and physically map out a plan on when I will do it. I had to schedule almost every aspect of my life in a daily plan to get back to some organization to make my life feel normal again.

Elven Zheng, Period 7, 3/27/23

 Elven Zheng 

Period 7

03/27/23

Modern Mythology 

Socio-political Consciousness 

We have a college tuition crisis. As college decisions and financial aid packages begin rolling out, the phrases “I’m going to be in debt” and “they want so much from me” are in the air. In today’s society, we urge everyone to pursue a higher education and get a college degree. A college degree supposedly unlocks the full potential of the working world. I’m not here to argue the importance of a college degree, but I am here to argue the bizarre costs and the concept of “affordability” associated with the process of getting a degree. 

There’s no doubt a college education is helpful, but would the end really justify the means? A degree from most universities is a very expensive asset. The yearly cost often forces the student into uncomfortable situations, such as taking out loans or working extra hours to make ends meet. Student loans have an interest ranging from 4.99% to 7.54%. These numbers are huge, considering the average US student loan debt to be around $40,000. This debt will lead to setbacks, such as uncomfortable budget restrictions. These financial burdens, in addition to studying for classes, heavily affect a student’s mental health. Even in situations where the parents can contribute, it would be an enormous sacrifice to families who aren’t swimming in Benjamins. Thirty-thousand less dollars can change a lot for a family earning forty to one hundred thousand dollars a year. While the severity of the cut might change from family to family, it obviously puts a dent in the lifestyle prior to paying for college. In the past few months, I’ve been receiving decision letters and financial aid letters. Here’s a preview of my situation: I come from a low-income household, and my EFC (expected family contribution) on the FAFSA is 0. This didn’t stop a college from rewarding me with a cost of attendance sheet equal to 90% of my family’s income last year. That was the most extreme example. In a less extreme scenario, public state institutions requested amounts equal to, and/or surpassing, 50% of my family’s annual income. 

Now, the costs can be justified as professors and staff need to get paid and the institution has to be maintained. Let’s take a deeper dive into that. Many institution presidents take home high six-figure salaries, with some pocketing over two million dollars. It would be rude and ignorant of me to assume and argue their worth, but two million dollars is a lot of money. For context, professors and most other members of the staff make around $100,000 annually. Surveys also indicate that the funds secured aren’t always utilized in the most efficient manner. While students have an obligation to contribute to the maintenance of their school, the school should be more aware of their budgeting. 

While some argue that the high costs are a necessary sacrifice, I say there’s no guarantee. A high paying job is not directly correlated with an expensive college degree. On the occasion where the graduate does not make as much as they envisioned, the student will begin their work life slowly paying off their college debt, delaying milestones such as the purchase of their first car. Yes, a student can definitely work part time to pay off their debt, but not many part time jobs can offer a flexible schedule and a salary high enough to balance off the request. Everything considered, steps have to be taken to promote a more affordable higher education for students and not trap them in a cycle of debt. 

Perry Zhang, Pd7, 3/23/23

Perry Zhang 

PD 7

3/23/2023

Literature Circle - Circe By Madeline Miller

The book Circe by Madeline Miller is a novel that retells the ancient story of Circe in the tenth book of the Odyssey. In Greek Mythology, Circe is a daughter of Helios, a sorceress, and is renowned for her vast knowledge of potions and herbs in which she can transform humans into whatever she desires. The novel begins by establishing the history of Circe’s childhood, Circe was born from the relationship between Helios and the nymph Perse, and at an early age, she soon realizes the clear contrast between her and all other gods or goddesses. As a goddess,  their grace and beauty which are valued within their society are nowhere to be seen and this has caused her to be shunned and rejected by her family member except for her father. She would often be mocked or even ignored by her mother and siblings and as a result, became estranged and isolated from her family and peers.  In the end, Circe’s sole source of joy came from her visit to Helios, her father.
As Circe grows older, she continues to spend her days in isolation and loneliness but soon ends up encountering Prometheus who was tortured in front of the gods for assisting the humans, by bringing the sacred fire to the humans. This encounter with Prometheus offers a brand new perspective and view that struck Circe’s interest and curiosity, something beyond the cold-blooded and apathetic routine she experiences every day. And due to this, she began her attempt to change, she attempts to stripe away the shackle of a god and chooses to be different from the others like how she is already. She began to embrace her difference and use her powers to help others but is met with suspicion and rejection. But ironic enough it is also there that she begins to discover the full extent of her powers and her true nature as a witch. In the end, because of her power as the witch and her rebellious attitude towards the patriarchal structure of this world, she is eventually banished to the island of Aiaia.
All in all, from what I have read so far, Circe can be considered a sympathetic and relatable character in modern society. Her struggles, her desire to be accepted or her societal value is something that we readers can relate to in one way or another. And instead of the traditional Patriarchal view of the past, the story of Circe and Miller’s adaption demonstrates a powerful feminist message. It portrays Circe as a powerful and independent woman who refuses to be defined by the norms and the expectations of others.

Selina Zheng, Period 2, 03/23/2023

Socio-Political Consciousness

On The Internet’s Vocabulary: How Words Shape Ideas

The internet has its own vocabulary. At times, I wonder if I am truly a member of the famed, almost notorious, generation of “Gen-Z” or the less accepted title: “Zoomers”. Constant, ever changing trends of the Internet’s newest hot word has gotten me wondering if I am falling behind the times; but of course, like any Gen-Z, I have the inbuilt skills of deduction which I use to barely keep up with the Internet’s lingo.

We are the generation that is almost chronically online—in my opinion the Gen-Alpha is worse, I mean at least my childhood escaped from the grasp of the internet—the legendary keyboard warriors who fight intense, if not bloody, matches on no-man's land: Twitter. So where am I going with my proclamation that I am out of touch with the Gen-Z? What do I intend by introducing the scary void that is Twitter? My point starts with these key terms that you, my reader, may or may not be familiar with: “woke”, “feminist”, and “Andrew Tate” (the idea not the person).

Ironically, I am writing this blog about Twitter despite never actually downloading the app or even making an account. You see, the infamous Twitter has scared me enough that even my curiosity could not have forced me to face the internet trolls in their natural habitat. This gap in my knowledge is an unfortunate one, therefore, reader beware that my perspective of the internet tends to be 3 months late due to the fact that I hunt and gather information from Instagram’s reels which is known to be the final destination of the Internet’s trends (after the trend has made its way to Twitter, Tik Tok, Reddit, and perhaps Facebook). Warnings aside, back to the terms I have mentioned earlier (rebriefing because I was made aware that Gen-Z has an attention span of about 1.3 seconds), “woke”, “feminist”, and “Andrew Tate” have stumbled upon me.

These three words are among the many that decorate the Internet, and more specifically Twitter, but they are important because I have noted from reading threads of arguments, that they represent a terrible, in my opinion, sign that misogyny has once again been made “trendy”. First, from my deduction and later confirmed by the urban dictionary, I’ll define the three words. “Woke” means to be awake/sensitive to topics such as racism, gender equality, and LGBTQ+ issues; “feminist” means to spread misandry; “Andrew Tate'' means to be an “alpha male” who is not “sexist” but believes in traditional women’s role in society. All three words have negative connotations—being too “woke” was extremist; being a “feminist” was derogatory; referring to “Andrew Tate” was a “W” or “Top G”? One of the three fits into the Internet’s rapid decline into misogyny, namely “Andrew Tate”. Despite his (Andrew Tate, the person) controversial takes that women belongs in the kitchen, rape victims should hold accountability, and his multiple affiliations with female abuse, Andrew Tate somehow made his way to becoming a widely searched figure amassing 11.6 billions of views in his videoson TikTok. Now, despite Tate’s clear misogyny, his name (as a term) is still connected to positive words like “W” and “Top G” that I mentioned before, while those who fight for gender equality are being called “woke” or “feminist”, terms that the internet has dubbed deprecatory.

To add to your internet dictionary, “W” means win and “Top G” stands for top gangster that is used by young misogynistic boys towards someone or something they admire (definitions from Cyber Dictionary).

Now, what is my opinion on this trend of the Internet after refreshing my knowledge of the Internet’s lingo? As a young woman, I dislike this trend because I find even those who are not the so-called extremists or misandrist, those who are passionate about gender equality, being ridiculed and unable to fight back after an internet warrior silenced them with “woke” or “feminist”. And sadly, the argument would die down because anything the “woke” or “feminist” say, would carry a negative connotation from them being labeled as such. And on the opposite pendulum, when clear misogyny is shown, whether through action or word, comments would flow in as “common W” or “Top G”, causing young, easily influenced internet users to fall into misogyny as a belief or way of life.

The internet has its own vocabulary, but not every lesson it teaches is the right one, in fact, there is no lesson the Internet enforces that has ever escaped from being flawed. I do not want myself, my peers, or friends, to perceive the world as extremely as the Internet has been drilling into us. Luckily, I have yet to make acquaintance with anyone who agrees with the Internet’s misogyny, but I know from my friend’s experience that the effect of the Internet has clear implications on reality. There will always be people who absorb all of the Internet, imperfections and all, and that is a side effect of being Gen-Z. Perhaps, it is not a bad thing for me to fall behind, but it is also important for me to understand the Internet’s malice and protect myself and my loved ones from it. The Internet has its own vocabulary, learned about, but never used as the ultimate truth.

JianYu (Damon) Zhang, Period 7, 3/21/23

JianYu (Damon) Zhang, Period 7, 3/21/23

Atomic Habits & Growth

It was a fight for survival. 

Now, I’m not in danger. It was a mindset I gave myself during my first semester of my senior year. Feeling a degree of stagnation during quarantine, where I felt that I took it easy academically, I decided to “punish” myself by taking as many difficult courses as possible. Doing this gave me a sense of redemption, but it backfired once I was slapped by college applications, and my free time evaporated in the month of December. As the dust settled, I currently stand in the crossroads of chaos and anxiety (closer to the latter as college decisions come). As much as I would like to rest and take it easy for the second semester, I wanted to fulfill my pledge I made for my senior year. I would finish off the year strong, and it currently became my only goal and standard.

It is safe to say that Senioritis affects everyone, but people react differently to it. For me, I try to force myself to combat it through sheer determination, will, and procrastination. The panic that comes after the joyous effects of procrastination is enough for me to finish my latest psychology outline at 11:30 pm, and sleep at 11:31pm. It was not easy to stay on track with work and be tempted by laziness and sleep, but I find myself overcoming it each day. This battle for motivation became a routine. Despite how unproductive it may seem to others, it worked for me, and as people say, don’t fix what is not broken. As the days count closer to graduation, I feel somewhat proud that I am keeping the promise I made to myself. My report card and averages became a gauge for my strategy’s success, and it reassures me of my strategy’s performance. I hope that my determination will persist and allow me to get work done, in a time where senioritis becomes more severe.

Zhu Liang Yan, Period 6, 3/22/2023

      Atomic Habits & Growth

• At this current point in time, what specific standards have you set  for yourself? 

• How and why did you come to craft these standards? 

• How do you demonstrate resilience towards achieving these standards?

• How do you assess yourself?  What adjustments do you make? How often?
  
  

I dislike setting precise standards and expectations for myself because I believe that they are inherently toxic to oneself. Though, holding yourself accountable and realizing the fact that you’re entirely in control of your decisions, actions, reactions, and so forth is a value that I aim to live by. Regarding standards and goals, I focus on getting rid of my terrible habits (such as valuing moments of pleasure over sleep) and exposing myself to fears (such as public speaking and investing time in new people) to achieve growth. Commonly, when I used to set goals that are expecting of me to attain a certain degree of success or anything measurable, I realized that it often had the opposite effect of reaching that success. Inherently, we always place a higher expectation on ourselves than what we can achieve, leading us to fail that “goal” or “criteria.” Additionally, it makes me feel terrible, and overall shame and guilts causes me to lose motivation to reach higher. Hence, mindsets are often the most important part of the process of improving yourself. You have to see it first before you can attain it.

I’m still trying to formulate my personal philosophy through trials and errors, fears, and interests. And I believe this is what I’ll be doing for all my life; however, I wish to develop a concrete foundation of values that I wish to abide by at this point of my life, such as setting my fears as opposed to setting expectations. I introspect and find parts of myself that I find unfulfilling and work backward instead of constantly trying to find new things to fill that unfulfillment. I believe that I’ll always constantly strive to want something more; although it is important to appreciate the things you have at the moment when you’re in a rut, I find it more important to work toward something that you look forward to. Personally, I’m still trying to figure out what it truly is; however, Psychology and creative pursuits such as music and writing are very meaningful to me. Especially in creative pursuits, I find the idea of a lack of limitation in creativity fascinating and meaningful. It adds colors to the already-defined colors. It gives words to the unnamed.

To summarize, the current loose standards I set for myself are to find, contribute and realize my personal morals and the way I want to utilize my time by eliminating bad, time-consuming habits and mindsets that do not align with who I define myself as. Many of these things are subconscious, and it would be difficult for me to realize them. However, I wish to introspect more often, and as Carl Jung puts it, “Until you make the subconscious conscious, it will direct your life, and you’ll call it fate.”