Presentation on "The Twelve"

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Cry, The Beloved Country

Throughout Book I of Cry, the Beloved Country, Alan Paton uses a wide variety of literary devices to describe the land of South Africa. The land is symbolic in the story as it contrasts the various ways of life in South Africa. The land of South Africa also portrays the social environment of the country. The land also presents the necessity of change, but offers some hope.

In Chapter 1, Paton uses contradictory paragraphs that contrast a lively, flourishing land to the land that is desolate and empty. He describes “rich and matted” grass that “cares for men” in the first piece, then a place that is “red and bare” with “course and sharp” land. These contradicting representations symbolize the difference between the land of the black people and the land of  the white people. It suggests that the land of the black farmers is always shown as barren and dry , where as the land of white farmland are always depicted as being fruitful and lovely.
       
While Stephen Kumalo travels to Johannesburg, Paton uses diction and detail to show the destruction and brokenness of the land of South Africa. He describes the soil as “sick” and “almost beyond healing.” The events in which he describes this land reveals the troubles that the country is currently pushing through. South Africa, at this time, was going through the Apartheid, the system of racial segregation forced by the country's government. Because of this segregation, the nation is struggling with staying united and alive, just as the soil that Paton is illustrating.
 
Although Paton repeatedly describes the land as "sick," "bare," and "course," the land was not always like that. The land may be ravaged, but it is clearly not naturally infertile, with the right nurturing and protection, the possibility for natural beauty and wellness seems endless. This supports Paton's idea that the people of South Africa did not have to live with the sickening Apartheid lifestyle forever. With the right treatment, the people could come together as one and be equal.


All in all, Paton advances descriptions of South Africa's symbolic land in order to reflect upon his overall messages the differences in the lifestyles of the South Africans, the necessity of change, but also offers hope to the people of South Africa. 

The Abandoned Building

The sun’s morning rays light the sky pink and blue above the awakening city. The birds chirp and cars begin scurrying over the bridge. Normally this would mark the beginning of a new day, but for us, it was the end. Looking over the city, I still remember every trip, here, to the abandoned building.

            “What’s the abandoned building?” I curiously ask. All of the guys’ faces drop, serious.
            “Oh! Y’all have never been to the abandoned building?” Hershell said with this goofy smile on his face, “We’re taking y’all to the abandoned building tonight.” So, Hershell, Sierra, Brittany, Dalton, Kendrick, and I all pile up in Dalton’s truck and head to Memphis.
            We come to this large, busted building and Dalton parks alongside it. We walk around it and have to climb up this half-wall to enter the first floor. Dalton and Kendrick go up first, then Sierra, followed by Brittany and I (with help from Hershell), and finally Hershell. We walk across this damp grass level to reach the opened garage door.
            The slowly setting sun’s light beamed through the windows, lighting the first floor of the building. It looks like a scene from a scary movie- mysterious cars and busted glass fills the room.  Every floor has its own surprise. Hidden rooms, mysterious objects, gargantuan columns, it seems as someone or something could pop out and get us at any moment.

            “Come on Heather,” everyone calls, “you have to keep going.”
            “Or you can just stay down there and let that guy I saw get you.” Hershell heartlessly yells as he continues climbing the fire escape. Everyone continues up, but me. I stand frozen at the second case of stairs. My extreme fear of heights prevents me from taking one step up. I know that I have to go, but I just can’t. I can see the light from Dalton’s phone going higher and higher, leaving me floors below, alone in the dark. Just when I begin to believe I would be stuck there all alone, I hear footsteps coming down the steps. It’s Dylan. The person I’ve known the least actually came back to help me. “It’s okay. Don’t tell anybody, but I’m afraid of heights too. We’ll make it up there together, okay?” he holds out his hand, wanting me to grab it. I slowly lift my hand and take his. We slowly crawl up the stairs together foot by foot, step by step.

            Dark. Nothing. That’s all I can see. The only light to guide all six of us is from Dalton’s phone. All crowded together, we slowly walk down the stairs into the basement. Total darkness. The phone only lights a mere few feet in front of us. Anyone in their right mind would have left, but none of us do. I feel like I’m in some scary movie, about to die from some monstrous creature or vicious killer. The whole time walking, I make sure to stay in between all of the guys, like that would do something, but it makes me feel a bit safer./Then the guys, Brittany, and Sierra decide that they want to explore the tiny rooms in the basement. It’s like their just asking to die or something. I’m too afraid to walk into the bizarre rooms, what if the doors fall close? I’m not going and Kendrick decides he doesn’t want to go in either, so we stay outside the doors. Now, we have no light and we’re both scared. Tall, strong Kendrick was actually scared, he grabs me and yanks me to his side, we both wrap our arms around each other and hold each other like babies.

            The sun sets and the city lights come on, lighting the darkness. The view is breath taking. Looking down upon the city gives me this sense of awe, and I think to myself “Wow, I did it. I made it to the top.” I’m so high up, it’s like I’m on top of the world, and nothing else matters. As the moon and stars come out, lighting the dark night sky, another journey begins.

The Black Sheep

Coming from a family with practically no educational expectations, it's surprising where I am today. From a family of drop outs, flunkees, and hard workers, no one really expected much from any child in our family. No one cared for or even tried in school. And then, I was born...the different one, the turn around of our family, the only one EVERYONE had the HIGHEST expectations for..
I don't really remember learning to read, except that no one pushed me to learn anything as an open-minded toddler. Learning my ABC's, to count, or to read early were all my own workings with only my determination. If there was anybody who even microscopically helped me learn to read was my grandmother "Gin Gan Linda." She was always a big reader, with her own library in her apartment. She had shelves upon shelves of the enormous romance novels (which she never let me look at) then she had a smaller library in her back room, full of all kinds of magical children's books from Dr. Sues to Clifford the Big Red Dog. One day, while my grandmother was reading her book, I decided that I wanted to be like my grandmother and grabbed some easy to read book about different types of animals. I proudly carried my book and set myself upon the couch next to her and began to 'read' along with her.
Throughout my early school years I surprisingly surpasses my piers. I was already capable of reading the easy to read children's books with hardly no help, if not any at all. My first few teachers had even allowed me to help my fellow classmates with learning to read some words that they did not understand. I enjoyed reading books as a young child, the stories were always magical and seem to be more interesting than any person's life that I had known. I often fantasized about my life, being like that as the characters of these stories. I would enjoy reading the stories so much, I would come home and offer to read to my older brother, dad, and my pregnant mom. I thought that the baby would be able to hear me reading to her and would encourage her to take on reading early.
I've always read at a higher reading level than my class. When we started reading for AR in elementary school, I always read a few grade levels above my grade. I enjoyed it, not having to worry so much about reading grades, I was always top of the class, even in the top few percentage of our entire school.
I started off reading the famous Junie B. Jones  series. I absolutely loved that series. I finished every book of the series early in the school year, and had no idea what I would do for the rest of the year. I remember worryingly exclaiming to my teacher "What am I going to do now? There's nothing to read! I've read all the books!" She just laughed and told me about all the other wonderful books there were to read. I then came along to find the Magic Tree house book series. I instantly fell for the story. I envied how young the children were, and being able to travel where and whenever in time they could.
As I grew older, I enjoyed reading the higher leveled, more complex books. From the Harry Potter series to The Chronicles of Narnia I enjoyed reading about the magical, fantasy world, however I didn't really have a favorite genre of books. Then, I found books based from medical professions. They instantly hooked me, from the cancer survival books, to the veterinarian books, I loved every single one. The stories that were based on real life events and over coming life's struggles always seemed to interest me the most.
Instead of struggling through everything, like my family has, I am easily passing through school, without putting forth any effort. Although I have long out-grown my passion for reading, I still enjoy a good book every now and again.

I AM...

I am one of a kind and misunderstood
I wonder why the world is what it is
I hear snickering and whispers
I see friends and "friends"
I want to know the truth
I am one of a kind and misunderstood

I pretend to not care
I feel unwanted
I touch your heart, to see how you really feel
I worry that I'm never good enough
I cry for other's pain
I am one of a kind and misunderstood

I understand that no one is perfect
I say that everything happens for a reason
I dream that someday, things will be different
I try to forgive, forget, and move on
I hope that someday you will understand
I am one of a kind and misunderstood

Action v.s. Reaction

The supernatural is a rare and mysterious subject. No one knows for sure how or why something happens. In "A Very Old Man With Enormous Wings" a man named Pelayo and his wife find a man with wings lying face down in mud during a storm. Shocked, they lock him up in their chicken coop. The question is, how is one suppose to react when finding such a creature?
When most people hear the word "supernatural" they think of bizarre and unnatural. An angel falling from the sky is certainly not natural. When Pelayo first finds the creature, he is " frightened by the nightmare." He did not expect to find a man, let alone one with wings, out during a storm. However, Pelayo's neighbors didn't the the angel as a "supernatural creature" but as a circus attraction. They didn't realize what they had really found, an angel. Sadly, they didn't care or give the angel it deserved, but only as a tool for their amusement.
Emotions are very complex and can change rather quickly. Pelayo was first frightened of the creature, then he was glad for ll the money he was glad for all the money he was making from people paying to see the creature. Nothing stays the same forever though.... When the angel was finally strong enough to fly away, Pelayo's wife, Elisenda, was relieved that he was no longer an annoyance in her life. Like being a new kid at school, every one's always watching you, giving you attention, but sooner or later, you'll just be another kid and life will go an normally as before.
No one knows exactly how they will react to a particular situation. Would one react as Pelayo did and keep such a phenomenal for themselves? Would you free in shock? Or would you destroy it, in fear of what might happen? We can't choose how to react, but we can decide how to act upon our reactions.