Tomorrow marks the first day of summer session. I plan to mix a little bit of music with a lot of writing. In my preparation this week, I searched for a few short stories and/or essays that bring a certain beat or rhythm to the classroom, if you know what I’m talking about. Haruki Murakami finds inspiration to write from listening to American Rock ‘n’ Roll and Classic Jazz. He says, “Your style needs to have good, natural, steady rhythm, or people won’t keep reading your work.” I just read one of his short stories, “Yesterday.” It’s based on The Beatles song. I don’t know if it will be a hit with my students, but I enjoyed the weirdness of the story. Starting tomorrow, I hope to have my students search their musical backgrounds for their own writing inspiration. Below is my first blog post of the semester.
It's been three days since the accident and I still can't sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I can hear the sound of the train approaching us, getting closer and louder, the wheels scraping on the metal train tracks, the pessimistic look of despair on their faces, and worst of all, the piercing scream that still haunts my ears
My mother, the only parent I know, is both a mom and a dad to me. Both of my parents would work, but even then my father would demand for my mothers paychecks. He'd use that money to get totally wasted, and it went on for a while like this....
In the book “Motorcycle Ride on the Sea of Tranquility” the most valuable part is when Chuy offered a ride to Yoli on his motorcycle through many places of the San Diego city. no. Yoli thought she hadn’t heard him right...
On November, 1993 both my father and brother started the Richard McGee Correctional Basic Correctional Academy....
For America in the novel The Tortilla Curtain, Being married to Candido is like carrying a backpack full of bricks all day long....
My mother had struggled her whole life to make us happy. Being a single mother of two with two jobs was almost impossible yet it was her daily routine....
My father's addiction has had significant effects in my life. My father's alcohol abuse has made me realize what I want in my life and what I don’t want....
After the bell had rung, I quickly got to my seat, of course being tardy was probably a bad first impression because as soon as I picked a desk to sit at my teacher was glaring at me. He then began to yell at me saying how it was an essential to be on time to his class. This was my first encounter with my economics teacher and I already knew it was going to be a long year. Little did I know that Jack had a specific purpose in my life and although he was scary to me at first, he soon became my strongest adult in my life. As the years went by, I got to know Mr. Little and we became the greatest of friends. Once Jack Little passed away, I had a different perspective on the little amount of time we all have to live...
After living three years in this country, it was important for me to realize that I needed to go to school to learn English. I was feeling like I was illiterate and deaf. When my husband was in work I was afraid to answer the phone, or afraid to go outside. I remember the day when I had my first daughter, I was in pain in the hospital and my new born daughter was crying; the hospital was cold, with a pale color on the walls, and its smell was like alcohol. There were nurses walking on the long and bright hallway. You can hear the nurses talking morning and night. I couldn’t express myself and talk for my daughter that was crying...