Juhyoung Lee PD: 7 6/5/23

 Modern Mythology 2023

Name: Juhyoung Lee

PD: 7

6/5/23 (revised)

Creativity & Fiction

The streets were littered with bodies. Every direction I looked, a crimson stain fell into my view. Car alarms, firefighter sirens, and the harsh banging of gunshots filling the street with noise. The scream of metal ripping and tearing. Fires ate all in their path. The living died and the dead came back to life. What if we had decided to mobilize the full army instead of just the alpha units? I couldn’t help but wonder why we had not. Not when I asked the alpha team leader, not when our missions became noticeably riskier, barely succeeding, and definitely not right now. I layed in a pool of my own blood, my rife gone under the swam of bodies. My vision faded and the sharp sting of teeth ripping into my neck subsided. Then I joined the bodies.

The next time I opened my eyes, the fires had subsided and the only sounds were the shuffling of empty feet. The only thing I knew was that I was hungry. When was the last time I ate? I couldn’t remember. The sun went down and the moon filled its place. 

I felt no fatigue. I needed no sleep. All night I wandered. I stumbled and fell. I looked down at my legs only to see that my toes pointed in opposite directions. On my right leg my heel led the way with my toes following right behind. Were my leg always like that? I couldn’t remember. 

I felt no pain. My legs moved and that all I needed. The sun filled the sky again and I wandered. My hunger only grew. Where am I going and what am I doing? I just kept on limping. The sun fell beneath the ground and the moon rose up

Finally I spotted a meal. They ran on two legs and screamed. The shuffling of empty feet quickened into a mindless run. I ran too. They ran behind a swinging wood wall with a cross on the front. We were hungry. Smashing into the door, we scraped and tore away. I hit the window. It shattered, turning intoa  dance of colors as it broke. We were in. BANG. We kept coming. BANG. The little foods and the big foods kept running. We ripped and tore away, eating everything in our path. I set my eyes on the biggest morsel. It was big, plump and held a little morsel and a wood stick that made loud noises. It went through another wood swinging wall. It ran and we ran after it. We were faster. We grabbed the big morsel. “RUN, Sharon, don’t stop! Just run, run-run-run!”, it shouted before she disappeared under the bodies, screaming and struggling as the little one ran off into the woods. 

The sun fled and the moon rose and more joined the bodies.

Juhyoung Lee PD: 7 6/3/23

 Modern Mythology 2023

Name: Juhyoung Lee

PD: 7

6/3/23

Creativity & Fiction

The streets were littered with bodies. Every direction I looked, a crimson stain fell into my view. Car alarms, firefighter sirens, and the harsh banging of gunshots filling the street with noise. The scream of metal ripping and tearing. Fires ate all in their path. The living died and the dead came back to life. As I layed in a pool of my own blood, my vision faded and the sharp sting of teeth ripping into my neck subsided. Then I joined the bodies.

The next time I opened my eyes, the fires had subsided and the only sounds were the shuffling of empty feet. But I only noticed my hunger. When was the last time I ate? I couldn’t remember. The sun went down and the moon filled its place. 

I felt no fatigue. I needed no sleep. All night I wandered. I stumbled and fell. I looked down at my legs only to see that my toes pointed in opposite directions. On my right leg my heel led the way with my toes following right behind. Were my leg always like that? I couldn’t remember. 

I felt no pain. My legs moved and that all I needed. The sun filled the sky again and I wandered. My hunger only grew. Where am I going and what am I doing? I just kept on limping. The sun fell beneath the ground and the moon rose up

Finally I spotted a meal. They ran on two legs and screamed. The shuffling of empty feet quickened into a mindless run. I ran too. They ran behind a swinging wood wall with a cross on the front. We were hungry. Smashing into the door, we scraped and tore away. I hit the window. It shattered, turning intoa  dance of colors as it broke. We were in. BANG. We kept coming. BANG. The little foods and the big foods kept running. We ripped and tore away, eating everything in our path. I set my eyes on the biggest morsel. It was big, plump and held a little morsel and a wood stick that made loud noises. It went through another wood swinging wall. It ran and we ran after it. We were faster. We grabbed the big morsel. “RUN, Sharon, don’t stop! Just run, run-run-run!”, it shouted before she disappeared under the bodies, screaming and struggling as the little one ran off into the woods. 

The sun fled and the moon rose and more joined the bodies.

Bill Huang, Period 7, 5/4/23

Bill Huang

5/4

Period 7

Modern Mythology 2023

Creativity and 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.

Fanfiction about Sharon from World War Z

It was wet and cold. [Sharon crosses her arms and shivers violently] It rained before. The wind kept hitting me. The forest was quiet. Just me there. [She lays on the ground in a fetal position] I went to sleep then.

When I woke up, my tummy hurt more. [She rubs her stomach as it growls] I walked around. No food anywhere. I felt weak and dizzy. Then I heard voices. 

[Sharon stands up and limps forward] I saw them. People around a fire. They all had … [she mimes a pistol]. They had bags of stuff too. They were sitting or sleeping. Two of them were looking away. I watched them from behind a tree. Mommy said to not trust strangers. 

They had food. They were eating. They looked angry. [She mimics different voices] “You left us there to die!” “We barely held our own, Zack was all over us too!” “Bullshit, you just wanted all of our supplies for yourselves” “She died because of you!”. One of them stood up and [she mimics cocking the hammer of a revolver] pointed at another adult. None of them talked now. 

I leaned out past the tree more. Some of the people sleeping were hurt. An old woman went between them, making sure they were okay. It was like when mommy checked me when I was sick. 

One of the men saw me and shouted [she mimics a rough voice] “Zack! Over there behind the tree!”. Everyone stopped and looked at me. 

“Kill it!” “Crush it’s skull!” “Make those fuckers pay!” as they came closer. I hid behind the tree. [She mimics the sound of a gunshot and a ricocheting bullet]

[Sharon puts her hands over her ears and screams]. Then they stopped. [She mimics various voices] “She’s one of us, stop shooting!” “What if she’s infected?” “Keep her away!”. I slowly looked at them from behind the tree. They looked back at me, some scared, some sorry. 

They brought a dog over. [She mimics the sound of a dog sniffing] After that, they let me eat and sleep next to the fire. 

Ashley Lam, Period 2, 4/24/23

Ashley Lam

Period 2

Modern Mythology 2023

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.

There once was a creature named Grendel. He stayed mostly to himself and had little to no friends. He didn’t have much going for him, as he was just living one day at a time. Most of his days were spent daydreaming about finding his people. He fantasized about his life, mainly because he wasn’t happy in the reality of it. He always tried to put himself out there, but things  never seemed to work out. His whole life, he only experiences toxic relationships, as that was the only thing he knew. His fear of being alone forced him to stay until they left. He felt as if he was stranded in the desert all the time: weak and lifeless. His relationships reminded him of a painful prick from a cactus: everytime he would try to get close to the ones he allegedly “loved” he w0uld get stung. However it felt as if he were addicted to the pain. 

Grendel spent his days in his cave, hiding in the dark because he feared he didn’t know the light. Even though he didn’t want to admit it to himself, he felt envious of other people and their genuine connections. He always believed that the universe cursed him, feeling resentful towards humans. He convinced himself that he didn’t enjoy joyful things, but in reality he just wished he could experience it for himself. He experienced a plethora of self hatred, always blaming himself for other people’s actions. “I was put on this earth to suffer. Why am I not worthy enough?”, he would often repeat to himself. He observed the world in the comfort of his own home, terrified to put himself out there again due to his past. However, one day his world seemingly changed.

Grendel only left his home to pick up necessities, such as groceries. However, one day he decided to take a walk outside, because he was tired  of sitting in his own misery constantly. As he was going on a stroll in his neighborhood, a runner accidentally bumps into him. As he collects himself, he starts to walk away from the situation, having more hatred towards society, when suddenly the runner starts initiating conversation. “My apologies sir, although I’m not complaining. You look like a dream.”, the runner said. Grendal began to feel something he hadn’t felt in a while: excited. “My name is Lestat, and you are?” His cheeks flushed red as he responded. Pale skinned, tall, and handsome Lestat. The angel sent from the heavens to save me from my misery, he thought. They exchanged numbers and had a genuine conversation, or so he thought. When he got home that day he felt like there was light at the end of the tunnel. He felt an exuberant amount of joy, and he held onto that feeling for what seemed like forever. Lestat had been chatting with him online, constantly asking when he would see his beautiful face again. Lestat would always be bold and lustful when texting Grendal, something he had rarely experienced. It made him feel excited for the future. They decided to meet up at a beautiful restaurant, which Lestat agreed to pay for.

On the day of the date, he romanticized his whole future with him, even though he barely knew anything about him. However, when dinner rolled around, it wasn’t what he imagined. At first, he believed that the questions Lestat asked him were simply just to get to know him. However, as the date continued, he quickly realized something didn’t feel genuine. “You should take me to your place.” “How much money do you make?” “Could you get me this new suit? You would do it if you really loved me, right?” Grendal felt a sense  of unease. The night came to an end, and he leaned in for a kiss goodnight, to which Lestat completely ignored. When Grendal went home, he decided to text Lestat about his worries, as he was sure he was just overthinking. However, deep down he knew this wasn’t right. He asked Lestat when would be the next time he would see him. He barely got answers out of him, and he was feeling a sense of anxiety. Lestat then told him, “to be honest, you aren’t what I thought you would be. This needs to end.” Grendel was heartbroken. How could something so lovely end so fast? He pleaded and begged him to give him an answer. Lestat was enjoying himself, seemingly joyful at Grendel’s misery. “ Do you seriously think that anyone could be genuinely interested in you? Look at you. You remind me of a monster. I was only interested because I thought you could benefit me financially.” Grendel couldn’t stop the tears from running down his face. He frantically tried to save their relationship, but Lestat wasn’t interested. “No one will ever love you man.” Those were Lestat’s last words to Grendel. Suddenly, what felt like an angel sent from God was quickly revealed to be the devil. It wasn’t the “dreamy feeling” Lestat described him as. Instead, it was a nightmare. 

“He’s right. Look at me. I am not worthy of anyone’s love.”, thought Grendal.

Jalen Tsang, Period 7, 3/20/23

Socio-political Consciousness

Having power gives you the ability to do something. The more power you have the more you can do. This idea is what makes people desire power. The more someone wants to do something the more that person wants power. In modern society I feel like there are two types of power. One is political power and the other is financial power. Financial power is money. With money you can buy what you want whether that be an item or an experience. Political power is the power over other humans given by the government. To gain this power people are willing to do many things. Some people work long hard hours. Others campaign for political roles with lots of political power. People’s desire for power can also lead to them committing crimes such as bribery and fraud. 

Out of the two types of power I described I feel like the one easiest for me to get is financial power. For most people financial power is what they desire most. The ability to provide for their families and to get what they want, but sometimes it goes too far. Seeing my family fight over my grandmother’s inheritance and the way my family has broken apart has shown me what  power can do. Witnessing this has made me rethink how much I want money. I have come to the conclusion that while money is important for me to live life, it is not so important that I would destroy bonds over it. I hope that in the future I can maintain this mindset and live according to those ideas.

Jake Cobovic, Period 6, 4/19/2023

 [Before the war, Staten Island was a suburban alcove of New York City, home to nearly 500,000 people. Now, things look much different. The once quiet borough now serves as the bustling agricultural hub of the Hero City. Hard at work overseeing a new infrastructure project on the island is Jake Cobovic, a long time resident.]

I never would have imagined that Staten Island, of all places, would become an agricultural hub. I mean, to me, it was always a quiet place where families raised their kids and commuters escaped the chaos of the city. You know how suburbs are. There’s never any assumption that something could go wrong. You have your perfect lawn and perfect house with your perfect nuclear family and perfect life.

I started hearing rumors about the outbreak pretty early on. Posts online here and there about what was going on in China. I took it with a grain of salt though, People online always tended to blow stuff out of proportion. But I remained cautious about it, which is more than I could say for most of the people around me. Almost right before things really went down, we went down, my family went to stay with our relatives in the sticks of Connecticut. We were called paranoid for it quite a lot. To most people, staying right where they were was all they thought they needed to be safe. It’s amazing how even in the face of almost certain death, some people are still too afraid to leave their bubble… It was only when the outbreak was right at everyone’s doors that people reacted. People were scrambling for supplies, trying to protect their families, but it was too late. The infection spread rapidly, and before we knew it, the whole city was overrun, let alone Staten Island. But amidst all the chaos and destruction, there was a glimmer of hope. After the initial wave of the outbreak and the subsequent war, when the dust started to settle, we realized that Staten Island had a unique advantage—it was an island. The infected couldn't easily cross the water, and that gave us a fighting chance.

When the idea of reclaiming Staten Island came up, I was skeptical, to say the least. How could we turn this devastated place into something productive again? But the leadership in Hero City saw the potential, and they assembled a team of engineers, urban planners, and agricultural experts to spearhead the project. And somehow, I found myself leading that team. I won't lie, it was a daunting task. The island was in shambles. Buildings were destroyed, infrastructure was in ruins, and the land itself was contaminated. But we had a vision, and we were determined to make it a reality.

The first step was clearing the debris and assessing the damage. We had to make sure the area was safe for our team to work in. It was like walking through a ghost town. I remember seeing remnants of people's lives strewn across the streets – abandoned cars, shattered windows, and overgrown gardens. It was a sobering reminder of what had been lost. Going around the places I used to frequent before the war and seeing the remains of bustling businesses and my friends’ homes was heartbreaking. But we couldn't dwell on the past. We had a job to do. That’s one thing the war taught me. That no matter how difficult the circumstances, you have to keep moving forward. There were times when it felt overwhelming, when the weight of the task at hand threatened to crush me. But I couldn't afford to succumb to despair. I had a responsibility to the people who had put their trust in me, to the survivors who needed a fresh start.

There were days when I questioned everything. What was the point of rebuilding? Why bother trying to turn this place into something resembling what it used to be? But then I would look around me and see the resilience of the people working alongside me. They had lost so much, yet they continued to show up every day, ready to put in the hard work. It was inspiring, and it reminded me that we were doing more than just rebuilding infrastructure. We were rebuilding hope.

But despite the progress we were making, there were moments when the memories of the war would come flooding back. Sometimes it was a sound that triggered it—a distant scream that echoed through the empty streets, or the rumble of a building being demolished. Other times, it was a smell—the stench of decay or the smoke from burning wreckage. These reminders would transport me back to those dark days, when death and destruction were all around us. I struggled with the weight of those memories, with the guilt of surviving while so many others perished. There were times when I questioned whether I deserved to be here, whether I had done enough to earn my place among the living. But then I would remember the faces of the people we were helping—the families who would have a chance at a new life because of our efforts. And that's what kept me going.

Damon Zhang, Period 7, 5/24/23

 Damon Zhang

Period 7

5/24/23

Modern Mythology 

Creativity and Fiction

There is no way this has happened.

They evolved.

Somehow, what can only be described as “The Fungus” from The Last of Us, the “T Virus” from Resident Evil, and the “Rage Virus” from 28 Days Later, combined with Solanum to create a species of… creatures with speed and strength that even Satan would envy. I have been chosen to record the remains of the human race after the new strain emerged. I gathered some documents of first hand experiences from those who I hope are still alive.

6/2/2xxx

A bloodstained and torn letter, addressed to “Harold King”

The government has abandoned us. Their false words that “everything will be ok” only assured the naive children that reside with us in this hospital. Everyday, more of us go down. Everyday, the officials say “help is coming”. 

Some of us are considering making a run for it to New Washington, but others still trust the calming words of the government, as if they’re chickens being led to the slaughterhouse. Tensions rose and I fear a violent result when they leave.

Yours truly,

Alex Smithson

8/23/2xxx

From the Healing Waters Church

A crumpled loose leaf paper found in a trash can

Author redacted

The sickening screeches from the creatures were washed out by the church choir. The people in here are mostly living at peace it seems, greeting each other with sermons and prayers, and when someone unfortunate is killed, whether by cholera from the poorly maintained pipelines or the horde, they’re met with mostly words of prayers. Most people seem to support the activities in the church, but I think I’m the only one who thinks all of this is [CENSORED]. The denizens think that thoughts and prayers can only save you from so much. I’d speak out, but I’m one of many who remains unarmed. I gotta get outta here.

10/4/2xxx

A journal scrap from “Redshirt”

Changes to “them” or not, life remains the same. Shooting, eating, praying to god I don’t get bit. Death is not an escape for me, as I still have my children to tend to, they are my only light. Everyday, I fight in the hopes that they can walk in the meadows without fear. Apart from my kids, Benny and Bonnie, I trust no one else. Not the government, not the clergy, not the rich. No one. What may seem as an outcast may be the lone wolf who survives when it is all over. 

==================================================================

11/25/2xxx

Benny is gone.

Bonnie is frantic, and I have no idea where he went. I could have sworn he was playing with the police truck, but he is gone. We are packing our bags and trying to find him.

==================================================================

1/3/2xxx

Is this the resolution I had hoped for?

We went to the police station. Benny loved the police. It was the first place we would go when he went missing. I hate to rely on the help of others, but… The police station was our best bet. I didn’t expect much from them, but after seeing the truck there… It was horrible. I don’t want to write what they did to Benny, but we are going back home. On the bright side, I heard that some laboratories called “TerraGroup” are on the verge of creating an antidote to reverse “them”.

 

Jalen Tsang, Period 7, 5/22/23

Creativity & Fiction

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania , USA

Rueben Carver lives in a small apartment with his newly wedded wife. He seems eager to speak with me when I greet him at the door.

I was only ten when it all started. I was in the living room watching tv when my parents came bursting through the front door. They ran around the house taking anything important before they finally grabbed me and got in the car. We drove for 30 mins before we arrived at the town hall and my parents told me to get out .We lived in a small town in New Jersey and the whole town decided to take shelter at the town hall. 

Once we got there my parents told me to go play with the other kids and meanwhile the adults boarded up the windows and doors. Soon after I heard some moans and as time went on the moans got louder. A few hours passed and I eventually asked my mom when we were going home. She said “Oh we’re not going home tonight. We’re having a sleepover.” That night we had spaghetti for dinner. 

The next morning I once again asked when we were going home and my mom admitted that we were going to stay a few nights. I complained for a bit before calming down. Although the moaning didn’t stop, it wasn't that bad of a situation. I was with my parents and I got to play with my friends whenever I wanted. We had grilled cheese that night.

Day after day my mom and I would have the same conversation, until a few days later I accepted that we would have to stay at the town hall for a while. That same night we didn’t have anything to eat. The next morning I woke up to the adults arguing. My dad noticed and put me back to sleep. The next day was the same. We didn’t eat and the adults argued.

Two days later the arguing had stopped. Apparently they had sent people to find food. That night we had stew. It was a meat I had never tasted before, but I was starving and didn’t care what it was. The next day we had the same meat. The day after we ate nothing and the arguing started again.

The next day we had that meat again, but it tasted slightly different and the portion was smaller. We ate that meat for three days. Then we starved again and the arguing restarted. This went on for a month. By then the arguing had been replaced by a weekly vote and we had stopped starving. They had also banned all children from the basement which had begun to stink.

The votes were to decide who would go out and hunt and since no one could get back in, there had to be a vote each week. I have always wondered how they got people out though. Everything was still boarded up and the moans never stopped which means the zombies never left. I guess they must have had some secret passage.

Week after week they would send people to go hunt and they would always succeed. We ate meat everyday and since there were less people each week the portion sizes slowly increased. This went on for years until we were finally saved by the army. At that point more than half the people had left to hunt including my dad.

After we got saved I went searching for my dad, but my mom didn’t seem to have any home. I eventually gave up and now I’m here. I do have a question though. What kind of meat do you think it was?

What kind of meat?

I’ve been trying to figure out what they were hunting. Before then I had never had any meat like that and even now I’m still trying to figure it out. What do you think? Deer? Bear? Maybe it was like dog meat or something. Maybe it’s an animal I don’t know about. It had to be an animal right? It had to be.

Maggie Li, Period 6, 5/4/23

 Maggie Li Pd 6 - FanFiction about Grendel 

Another celebration in the mead hall wakes Grendel up. His ears are ringing and he feels as if his head is being stabbed by a million small needles. 

“It just won’t stop. MAKE THEM STOP UGH!!” he roars. 

He starts charging in the direction of the noise and he reaches the edge of the town. But right as he’s about to crash into the hall, he hears a low hum that mutes the noise of the celebration and stops his pain. 

“And I could be part of your- ahhhh!” the voice suddenly stops and is replaced by a sudden scream. Grendel can sense the noises of the celebration coming back to torment him but then he hears, “Help me! Somebody please!” 

Grendel focuses on the soft voice and runs towards the coast as he hears the maiden continue to scream. When he gets there, he sees a body washed up on the shore. A petite girl with red hair, choking on water. Grendel hides behind a tree right by her, just out of sight and watches her as she tries to regain strength from almost drowning. Right as he’s about to step out to approach her, he remembers his grizzly and horrifying appearance and retreats. I don’t want to scare her but who am I kidding? I am a monster and she’s just a girl. I’ll never find love looking like this. These thoughts consume him and he doesn’t notice the girl talking to someone in the ocean until he hears an evil, guttural laugh. He stops pining over his loneliness and focuses on a woman in the water. Her hair is black and her skin is a washed out purple. He doesn’t notice at first but he sees tentacles poking out from underneath the water but it’s dark and he can’t see the source. 

“I’ll do anything, Ursula, please. I just want to go back to the water again. The humans were not as nice as I had thought they would be,” the red-haired girl calls out to the older woman in the water. 

“Ariel, what’s done is done. You know I don’t do anything for free and quite frankly you have nothing I want. I was kind enough to let you keep your voice with the promise that you will give me your firstborn child but you have failed to seduce the prince and I want your voice,” Ursula grins evilly at Ariel and chuckles.

So her name is Ariel, such a sweet name for such a dainty and petite girl but why are they having this conversation and during the height of the night. And her voice? Why does the Ursula lady want it?

Ariel sits on the beach and starts audibly crying. The noise sends Grendel into a frenzy, his entire body compelled to attack the source of the noise that was causing him so much pain. Stop! No! I can’t hurt her! He tries to get himself under control but nothing works and he charges at her. Right before he’s about to rip her to shreds, she turns around and their eyes meet. It felt as if time had stopped when Grendel stared into her round blue eyes and the compulsion faded. He could tell she was scared. She didn’t blink and Grendel couldn’t even hear her breathe. 

“I’m so sorry. I won’t hurt you, I promise. I’ll leave,” Grendel lowers his hands and backs away from her before turning his back towards her. 

“What’s your name…?” a soft voice breaks the silence. 

“Grendel and you?” He turns around slowly to face her.

“Ariel, it’s nice to meet you,” she smiles as she wipes a tear rolling down her face.

Wow, she’s a literal angel. Grendel stares at her in disbelief but snaps out of it and says, “It’s nice to meet you too, Ariel. What are you doing here all alone?”

“I’ve just had the worst day but you know, that's just how life is. I try to see the bright side of it all,” she says this all with a smile but Grendel could tell deep down she was hurting.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Grendel sits down next to her and watches the waves hit the rocks.

“If I’m being honest, I just want to sit here and watch the water. I miss my home,” she stares straight ahead, eyes never leaving the waves.

Grendel doesn’t say another word and watches her. They sit in silence for a few minutes when all of the sudden, Grendel sees a mob approaching them. They’re screaming, “Grendel, the horrible beast will be slain tonight,” and Grendel goes to cover his ears. 

“What’s wrong?” Ariel reaches out to Grendel but he jerks away from her and she pulls back with fear in her eyes. Grendel goes to stop her and uncovers one of his ears but the noise of the mob chanting causes him to see red and then everything goes black. 

Grendel can’t remember what happened but the next morning he woke up to the ocean dyed red by the blood spilling into it from all the bodies of the mob participants and face down in front of him was Ariel’s lifeless body. She had been a casualty of Grendel’s madness and that made him want to die. He could not only not spend a peaceful ten minutes with a girl let alone a lifetime. In the end, a monster’s fate would always be followed by destruction.

Elan Rekhtman, Period 6, 5/15/23

 Elan Rekhtman

Period 6

5/15/23

Atomic Habits & Growth

As the school year comes to an end and summer break begins, I find myself reflecting on the goals and aspirations I have for this period of time. It is important for me to set specific standards that will guide my actions and help me make the most of this summer. In order to do so, I have identified three key areas: building relationships, reading, and learning money-making skills.

First and foremost, building relationships is a priority for me. With school out of the picture, I want to ensure that I maintain and nurture my friendships. I will actively invest time and effort into strengthening these bonds by organizing regular meet-ups, planning group activities, and keeping in touch through calls and messages. By being intentional about maintaining these relationships, I hope to create lasting memories and cultivate a support network that will enrich my life.

In addition to building relationships, I have a strong desire to spend more time reading. I recognize the immense value of books in expanding my knowledge and broadening my perspectives. To make this a habit, I will set aside dedicated time slots in my daily routine for reading. I plan to explore a range of genres, including personal finance, self-improvement, and literature. By exposing myself to diverse ideas and stories, I aim to develop a deeper understanding of the world and enhance my critical thinking skills.

Furthermore, I am eager to learn money-making skills, particularly in the realm of stock trading. I believe that gaining practical knowledge about finance and investing can have a significant impact on my future. To pursue this interest, I will allocate focused time each week to educate myself about stock market trends, investment strategies, and risk management. By arming myself with this knowledge, I hope to make informed decisions regarding my own finances and potentially explore avenues for generating income.

Setting these standards for myself is just the beginning. Demonstrating resilience and staying committed to these goals will be crucial. I understand that consistency is key in achieving my standards. I will establish a daily routine that incorporates the necessary activities, whether it is meeting up with friends, reading, or studying finance. By making these actions a regular part of my schedule, I will cultivate discipline and build the habit of consistent effort.

Resilience also requires persistence. I anticipate challenges and setbacks along the way, but I am determined to maintain a growth mindset. I will view failures as opportunities for learning and growth, and I will bounce back stronger. Through persistence, I will stay focused on my standards and work towards them with unwavering determination.

In conclusion, setting specific standards for myself is instrumental in making this summer a period of growth and achievement. By prioritizing building relationships, reading, and learning money-making skills, I aim to create meaningful connections, expand my knowledge, and prepare myself for future financial success. Through resilience, consistency, and regular self-assessment, I will strive to reach these standards and make the most of this summer break.

Elan Rekhtman, Period 6, 3/13/22

 Elan Rekhtman

Period 6

3/13/22

Socio-political Consciousness

It is disheartening to see how many individuals settle for mediocrity and underestimate their own potential. They often prioritize small achievements and fail to recognize the vast possibilities that lie beyond their comfort zones. But I refuse to succumb to such limitations. I am determined to break free from the barriers that hold me back and strive for greatness.

While some people view inequity and inequality as predetermined, I firmly believe in challenging this perspective. I see oppression as a mindset, a tool used to make individuals believe that they cannot achieve and are inherently less than others. However, I strongly disagree with this notion. While it is true that some people are born into more challenging circumstances, I believe this should serve as an even greater motivation for success.

I refuse to accept a narrative of victimhood or use oppression as an excuse for inaction. Instead, I see it as an opportunity to prove the resilience of the human spirit. I am fully aware that the journey towards achieving my desires may be challenging, and I acknowledge the unique obstacles that some individuals face. However, these challenges should serve as a driving force, motivating us to overcome adversity and strive for what we truly want.

I am committed to embracing a growth mindset and critically reflecting on my own beliefs, assumptions, and values. This introspection allows me to overcome any self-imposed limitations and confront the external barriers that society may place in my path. I am willing to step outside my comfort zone, take risks, and pursue opportunities that many would hesitate to explore.

I firmly believe that to achieve great things, one must dare to dream and take bold actions. Complacency and settling for mediocrity are not options for me. I am driven by a burning desire to fulfill my potential, regardless of the obstacles I encounter. I understand that the path to greatness may be unconventional, and it may require perseverance, resilience, and a willingness to learn from failures along the way.

By embracing this mindset, I aim to challenge the notion of oppression and prove that it is possible to overcome societal barriers. I believe that each individual has the power to rise above circumstances and achieve greatness. The presence of adversity should serve as a catalyst for success, motivating us to strive even harder and prove that our potential is not defined by external factors.

In summary, I refuse to settle for mediocrity or accept a predetermined view of inequity and inequality. I believe that oppression is just a mindset used to discourage individuals from achieving their true potential. While some people may face more challenging circumstances, I see this as an even greater motivation for success. With a growth mindset, critical self-reflection, and unwavering determination, I strive to overcome obstacles and fulfill my potential.

Zhu Liang Yan, Period 6, 5/31/23

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 metaphors. Wickers are very common in nature, they are the creations of the all-seeing. Wickers bears pale skins, long limbs, and beautiful faces. They are omnivores, they enjoy vegetables and animals. Since the Great Collapse, Wickers have taken over the natural world. They have civilized most of the planet, whether it was the South Beam or Noviajar. In the town of Elsmere, a forest town resided in the west of Poli, a small civilization of Wickers resides. The town is bustling with activities and livelihood, the shepherds herds their sheeps across the town square, the ironsmith sturdy in his hammering, creating a loud melodic clinking noise that blends into the backdrop of the town along the merchants’ haggles. One day, the seamless flow of the town was suddenly disturbed. The bell tows loudly at the bell tower. “Quick! Quick! Someone’s at the door!” “What is that?!” “Call the defensive force! Quick!” The Wickers howl in simultaneous confusion. Below the bell tower, a stranger stands shrouded in capes. Unknowing of the ruckus he had caused, he stepped into the perimeter of the town. However, he is quickly stopped by a titanic wicker who was almost thrice his size. “Who.” He bellowed. The Stranger unhooded himself, staring at the curious wicker towering over himself. “Beowulf.” The stranger proclaimed with a hint of fear. Suddenly, a crowd of curious wickers surged behind the large wicker, amused at Beowulf’s presence. The large Wicker named Grendel suddenly took a aggressive stance as this creature in front of him is like nothing he had seen before. He doesn’t bear long limbs, pale skin nor a beautiful face. In fact, the first thing Grendel noticed about the stranger, was his hideous face. “Where to.” Grendel demanded. “I don’t know, I just want companionships.” “So you want to be let into the town, huh?” “Yes…I need food..” Beowulf spoke in a startled manner, his hand tremoring and his feet felt like they’re about to turn into rubbers. He was afraid, very afraid. Grendel pummels the visitor in the head with his worned fist and Beowulf fells to the floor bleeding from his skull. He looked up intensely and let out a cry “I MEANT NO HARM! PLEASE STOP.” “No, you are hideous. For all we know, you might be dangerous.” Grendel spoke calmly, then he proceed to throws his large feet straight at Beowulf’s chest as he attempts to get up. The impending forces crushed Beowulf’s ribs painfully as the blood gushs from Beowulf’s bleeding head and ribs. “PLEASE NO MORE!” Beowulf cried. “Get out of here, you saddening monster. I saw you this very day of every year, trying to steal our herd of sheeps.” Grendel spoke with a cold malice. The villagers cheers him on, “YEAH!!” “GET OUT OF HERE!” “MONSTER, GO FIND SOMEWHERE ELSE!” Beowulf got up on his knees and crawled away from the villagers’ protest. As the blood start gushing out from Beowulf’s head and ribs, he noticed his wounds became further infected. Beowulf cries in pain as he attempts to get up on his feets, but it no use. He wanted to live. But he knew he was going to die, alone. What did I do to derserve this? He wondered. Is it my skin color? Is it my size? Is it the way I looked? Why am I born this way? He begans to tear up silently. As the tear flow down his cheek, it merges with the blood that trickled down his cheeks. The blood and the tear created a very unique sort of taste, a salty drop and the heavy taste of iron with a hint of sweetness. He thought the mixture tasted weirdly good in that instance. He suddenly realizes he have trouble breathing. The shock he have received mentally and the physical trauma he have endured have rendered him with suffocation. He stares quietly at the town in the distance as he cries. And then, as if something cracked inside of him. He began screaming on the top of his lung. He screams in anguish as the stinging pain from his upper chest punish him further more. He felt as if no one else in the world understood him. As his voice became hoarse and his throats give up on him. Beowulf decided to lay his body down as the pain becomes unbearable. He wondered about his differences and his meanings. His pupil aims at the sky’s beautiful lushness as his body is ravished by pain, sadness, and hunger. This how he felt every second of his existence so he thought no different of it.

Allison Gandlin PD7 4/24/2023

 Allison Gandlin

○ Literature Circle - TWO BLOGS (2023)

■ Choose one of the texts to read, partner up with other students who are

also reading the book (can be across classes).

■ Write two blogs - one during your reading and one after you’ve

completed the novel.

How does the book’s format and multiple perspectives affect your understanding of the novel?

‘A Thousand Ships’ explores the Trojan War and Greek mythology & culture from many

women’s perspectives. Similar to World War Z, it tells the experiences rather than the statistics.

It is an attempt to evoke emotion and create understanding for the way humans react. In some

ways, this reveals more about the event than the latter. A recurring theme is heroism, yet it is

not portrayed in the way that society has defined ‘a hero’. While most may expect a warrior

emerging through the flames of a battle victorious, many don’t think of the women who had

raised children as single mothers or were taken as slaves. Haynes’ writing style therefore allows

the reader to experience all sides of the war: Greek, Trojan, and divine. She redefines what is

‘heroic’ by exploring many aspects of life at the time that are disregarded.

At first, the names and places and relationships between characters were confusing. The

constant switch in setting and mood created a roller coaster of emotions that I couldn’t keep

track of. Haynes forces you to get attached to one character so quickly and then cuts off the

short story. However, once the characters start coming back to continue their stories, it

becomes very easy to develop a holistic view of the culture of the time. For instance, you begin

to understand that everyone has a relationship with the gods. They take myth as fact and

rumors spread like wildfire. The singing bards tell stories from their mind and it is as though

nothing else could be true. Most had consistently acted on lust and instinctual desire as self

control is seemingly pointless in a society where death was so near at all times. They fight and

take pride in animalistic characteristics. They idolize the warriors. People bow down to ‘strong’

men and blindly follow the performance, the circus. The women are where the men are weak.

The women understand the facades and the nature of human actions. The women know how to

survive amongst the men who believe they themselves ‘allow women to survive’. And yet, a

kidnapped daughter of a priest, who is bid off to a round old king, makes her way back home. A

nymph, who’s husband goes off to steal another king’s wife, causing the war and ruin of Troy,

remains unbothered and raises her son on her own. The structure of this book is developing my

connection to the time period and allows me to see women at different ages/stages in their

lives and in different positions of power being their own heroes. I believe that it is almost

impossible to tell from one perspective. However, if it was, it would not be nearly as impactful

and could entertain but definitely would not teach me about feminine power the way it has. It is

allowing me to reflect on all of my inner women, the hostile warrior princess resembling the

Amazonians but also the softer nurturing queen. This book could not have come at a better

time in my life, as I am finding myself and growing into who I want to be.

Connor Lee, Period 6, 5/2/2023

 Connor Lee, Period 6, 5/2/2023

Creativity and Fiction

Dear Diary,

I’m not sure if anyone will ever be able to read this, but with everything happening around me, I need to write this down. My name is Jake, and I am twelve years old. In just a few months, the lives of everyone in the world changed. The stories of the undead rising and attacking mankind was unheard of and only something seen in movies and books, but it was a reality now. The city I lived in was overrun with zombies early in the outbreak. An evacuation was ordered that led to my 6 year old sister, Kate and I to be separated from our parents. With communication systems down, I can only hope that they are doing well and that we will be able to meet again. 

Learning to adjust to our surroundings and make do with what we have was not an easy task. To be quite honest, I don’t even know where we are right now. We have been from abandoned city to abandoned city, constantly moving to avoid zombies and to keep looking for more food and water. It has been a challenge living off of mainly canned food and leftover bread, but it’s been enough to survive off of. We also occasionally run into other people. Some of them are quite nice and offer us some food and water. One man we met even gave us a picture book that used to belong to his daughter. Though Kate has now read that book a million times, she still smiles and giggles when the knight goes to save the princess. 

Kate isn’t old enough to understand the situation that we are in. She often asks why we can’t eat more food like we used to or why mommy and daddy don’t come help us. I try my best to explain things in a way that puts her mind at ease. I always tell Kate that there will be an end to all of this, that one day we will be able to reunite with our parents and go back to living life before there were any zombies. I try to tell her this everyday, even though I’m unsure myself if it will ever happen. Regardless, all I can do now is continue to keep moving forward and doing the best I can to keep Kate and I safe. As long as we are together, I can have hope. 

Until we meet again,

Jake