Revolutionary War

Your assignment is to find information about the Revolutionary War. Know when it started, who was fighting, who were allies, when the Declaration of Independence was signed, and when and how the war ended. Use at least two sites to conduct your research.

Howard Zinn's History

Go to the following websites to learn about Shay's Rebellion. Read them and write a short summary. Be prepared to share your summary with the class. Tomorrow, we'll read Howard Zinn's version of the same event.

http://www.u-s-history.com/pages/h363.html

http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/topic/539193/Shayss-Rebellion

My Feet

Feet
by Ana
My feet that let me run,
My feet that hold me up,
My feet that don’t have to worry
about looking too chubby,
being too smart,
too wimpy,
are the best part of me.
Nobody judges feet,
so my feet can do what they want
and look however.
Feet can not be bad.
They get noticed by my mom
who tells me that they’re just as big as hers.
But that is not a bad thing.
No blame goes to feet.
If I get tired of walking,
it is because my legs aren’t strong enough.
My ankles have problems.
My feet are like gods among mortals.
Surrounded by problems,
they are amazing.

My Eyes

THE BEST PART OF ME
By Asha
My sister and I,
have special eyes.
Aubrie's eyes are green and filled with knowledge,
my eyes,
they're just green,
But no one else in my famil,
has green eyes,
except for my sister and I.
My eyes are not very wise,
but they have many questions,
I look in the mirror,
at my eyes,
and they seem to be sucking me in.
The out line of my eyes is a darker shade of green,
it makes them look HUGE.
One day I’ll go out with my big eyes,
and ask all the questions in the world.
Then, like my sister,
my eyes will be filled with knowledge.

Shins

Shins
by Kelsey
The best part of me... shins,
they always keep me tall,
i know they will not stall.
They help me stand up-right.
When i am frightened,
they will never let me fall.
They help me kick and juggle socor balls.
They help me ride a bike
and skate
They will always be at my wait.
They help to keep my balance.
They will never let me fall.
I can always rely on them.
They were built sturdy
and strong.
I know they wont expire for a long, long time.

Arms

Arms
-By Kepler
My arms are like a skeleton key,
A pair of arms to mach the seasons.
Pale like snow in the winter,
brown like the cracked earth in the summertime,
Flame red from countless sunburns that matches the hue of the leaves,
blooming to all their glory in the spring.
My arms are like a skeleton key,
a pair of arms to match every task,
strong enough to split wood,
shatter glass,
and bend metal.
Yet gentle enough to carve wood,
blow glass,
and support a worried friend.

7th Grade Presents Their Monologues

Oatmeal Tahini Cookies

Bre, Erin, and Chanelle came over to my place to bake some delicious cookies sans refined sugar and flour. Thanks to Madison's presentation on The Big Sugar, we learned about the slave-like conditions of Haitian cane cutters working on Dominican cane plantations. As an action project, we baked cookies with local honey. Thanks bees! Please join us for the community potluck to sample one. Watch the documentary, "that explores the dark history and modern power of the world's reigning sugar cartels" here. http://topdocumentaryfilms.com/big-sugar/

Get the recipe for the cookies here. http://www.wholefoodsmarket.com/recipes/2035

JaRon on Ali...

JaRon is working on an essay about Muhammad Ali. He's found many quotes from the man himself, which he wanted to share with me...well, he wanted me to read the volume that he found. Instead, JaRon's going to pick a quote and share it with all of us. Please post your comments.

Here is the first quote that made JaRon laugh.

"It's just a job. Grass grows, birds fly, waves pound the sand. I beat people up."

Mix it Up Day at FDNSC

Grade 7 & 8 students from Rainbow Mountain joined our classes for "Mix it Up Day", a national campaign created by Teaching Tolerance to encourage inclusive classroom communities. Since our community is so small, we invited another group to join us.

Tristen

Teeth
Teeth are symbols of your age, and hygiene. When you are old they fall out, and when you are young they grow in, fall out, and grow in again. There are all sorts of teeth, baby teeth, permanent teeth, fake teeth, yellow teeth, white teeth and more.
My grandma has teeth of plastic, the reason not being age, but hygiene. Her teeth are tinted yellow like the nicotine covered walls of her house.
My little siblings on the other hand, their teeth are affected by age. They have baby teeth that will fall out when their new adult teeth grow in.
My mom’s teeth show a great amount of hygiene. They are white pearls perfectly carved into neat little squares, the result of having braces when she was younger.
Last of all my teeth, which show a normal amount of hygiene, but also show that I am in desperate need of braces due to the one unruly baby tooth that is determined to stay in my mouth.

Bre II

Eyes
By: Anbreail
My eyes are like a dark brown marble, really dark, like as black as people say.
I like my eyes beause I see different things
Than everyone else. My mom says they are special
My mom’s eyes are a light brown, kind of a hazel and brown, some how mixed together.
My sister’s eyes are like a wood brown
Always looking at something,
But they're like an angry wood
Always mad.
My brother Alex has eyes like a muddy chocolate
His eyes make every thing better.
Well, sometimes. Even if he is adopted, he is still part of the family.
Sean’s eyes are brown
They always love to play video games, or watching T.V.
All of our eyes are brown, but, my mom’s are a little lighter.
Than the kids.

Bre

My family
By: Anbreail

My family
Are all different
Colors
Black like coal, White like milk, mixed like milk chocolate
And Cherokee like caramel.
I can’t name them all
I am
brown,
Like a Hershey kiss
Mixed with some
Caramel.
My mom
Has the same thing,
But her hair is way different
From me. My sister,
She has very dark brown, like a muddy color
Hair. It’s really hard to see.
People say my sister and I
Look alike. We kind of do,
in some way. My brother Alex
He is a mix, with one little
Drop of chocolate brown
really curly, brown hair.
My other brother Sean,
He is light brown like milk chocolate,
But a little more lighter, with a drop
Of caramel.
My family is all different colors.

Kaia

Unique Hands
By: Kaia

Everyone in my family, mom, dad, brother, and me, have different hands. Mom’s are small and frail like a tree’s leaf. Brother’s are ferocious and feral like a feral forest creature. Dad’s are big and battered like a mother bear in a brawl protecting her cubs. Mine are special, soft and worked, smart and creative. Yes, special indeed. My hands, grasping my mom’s to calm my nerves in a scary movie. My hands, running from my dad’s in a game of tag. My hands, afraid of my brother’s because their gnarly appearance. My family’s hands are unique in their own way.

Naomi

Eyes

My eyes are never one color, they always change from hazel to chestnut, or dark walnut to an olive green. It depends on my mood really. They're dark chocolate when I’m sad, chestnut when I’m giggly and happy, olive green when I’m being a loyal friend, and hazel when I’m just me. My face wouldn’t look good with bright green or blue, no, they couldn’t be like the sea or sky. My eyes are the willows branches of me, drifting over the ground like a frozen flush of water. My eyes are me, kind, loyal, stubborn, and most of all happy. My eyes are a mixture of mother's brown eyes, as shiny as a fined marble, and my fathers, crystal blue skies, like what you would see if you were sailing far from land, on a beautiful day. I am both of them, I’m glad too. Both of them are loyal. I get my sensitivity from dad, and my wise, intelligent side, that knows that there’s always a way around it side, well, that’s from mom, its actually quite scary how much I am of them, and yet it makes me different and unique. My sister’s eyes are foreign brown, like chocolate. They sparkle and shine, but usually at home, they don’t show a glimmer. They’re like hard candies with soft filling inside.

Jordan

Eyes
By Jordan
My mother’s eyes are kind and gentle and bright blue like the sky. It shows that she is caring and loving. Her eyes are wide and you could tell from looking into them that you know that you are safe when you are around her.
My father’s eyes are big and brown. You know his mood 100% if you look into his eyes. His eyes are like the cleanest most polished dirt that you would ever see in your life. His eyes can look into you and over you and you know how to act around him from his eyes.
My eyes are a lot slimier to my dads where they look brown like polished dirt, but they have a more clam look to them, from my mom’s eyes. I can control my eyes too, just like my dad if I want to look over people I can, but my eyes have different emotions from my mom, you can only know how to act around me from other things in my body.

Emma

Almonds, Marbles, Teardrops and the Color of the Ocean
By Emma
My eyes are almonds, almonds the color of the ocean. My sister’s eyes are marbles, big marbles the color of the ocean. And my mom’s eyes are sideways teardrops, the color of the ocean.
When you look in to my sister’s eyes, you think you see marbles and in each marble you think you see a calm ocean, waves, whitecaps and a dolphin. They are sweet innocent eyes that make you feel comfortable and safe.
When you look in my eyes, you think you see almonds and in each almond you see a storm, dark blue waves and a gray moon peeking out behind big, white clouds. My eyes are like a mood ring, they tell you how I’m feeling.
When you look in my mother’s eyes, you think you see sideways teardrops and in each teardrop you see the clear blue ocean on a perfect day and seagulls flying over sparkling waves. My mother’s eyes are always smiling, no matter what the rest of her face is doing.
All of our eyes are so different, yet so alike. All of our eyes catch the different facets of the ocean.

Sophie

Thick Hair
Sophia

Thick hair. Everyone in my family has it. Both a blessing and a curse. Daddy’s hair is like a feather. The daily dose of “product” makes the graying brown hair take flight and look perfect the rest of the day.
Max, he has adorable brown little-boy curls when at a certain length, but the back always looks like a thorny jungle. Like someone put a straight iron to it when it was not fully brushed, or held it for too long and made it frizz. Mom says it’s because of gel. I say it’s because he sleeps on it. He doesn’t care.
Mamma has beautiful hair, curly and red, like fire. Crazy, wild, and long, yet she manages to control it. She puts it up with a hair stick or leaves it down. It is so very unlike mine, but I am the one who has the hair closest to hers.
Wavy in the front and curly in the back, my hair is the boss of me. The brown-blond mass of messy curls will not listen to the harsh voice of hair spray, or the strict unyielding tone of gel. It looks the way it wants; I can only choose how to wear it, in a messy bun, braids, or down. Though I like my hair, I want easier-to-control hair. I want my sister’s.
Maddie says she doesn’t like her hair and wants to trade with me, but I like it. She can roll out of bed in the morning with out it look like a horrible beast is attacking her head. It listens to her when she wants it strait, curly, wavy, or any other way she wills it to look.
Unlike me, she owns her hair. Dyed black on the bottom and hennaed on the top, Maddie’s hair is amazing, but she doesn’t think it. She sees it as a lack of volume, where I see it as just enough volume. She sees it as too short were I see it as the perfect length for wearing it down, in a ponytail, messy bun, or to be left alone. She doesn’t want her hair. She wants mine.

Erin

Vignettes These Special Hazel Eyes of Mine by Erin

Daddy has special green eyes that can change to baby blue, just like when a ship is lost at sea and they find their way home. Mamma, on the other hand, has the true brown eyes of the Cherokee. I came from a family where you only have two choices of eyes. From daddy you either have blue or brown, from mamma brown or green. But not I, I was born with hazel eyes that can change colors by my mood. When the sun shines my eyes shine like when a dream catcher is at home blowing through the wind. Everyone wonders, wonders where did a crazy child like me get those special hazel eyes. Hazel eyes that have a passion for music and dance, hazel eyes that can smile even when the sun can not. “Behind these hazel eyes” Mamma always says. I can feel when people are sad, happy, and angry, but also people can see it in me too. Sometimes people can look into my hazel eyes and have the hardest time telling me a lie. But I just laugh, when they tell me so behind hazel eyes is a dancer with a crazy imagination, what I love to say is welcome to my world.

Mara

Perfect Equation
My brother’s eyes are blue as a crystal reflection. He has my grandma’s eyes. My grandpa had dark solemn eyes, the kind that make you think of a puppy begging for the last scrap of bacon. My mom has brown eyes too.

My little brother Enly, he has dark brown eyes. The chestnut kind. They are like warm milk, inviting. Koen’s eyes are dark. Dark like rotting wood in September. That kind of dark. They say brown is a dominant color. I think they are right.

My eyes are green. Not grass green but the green of the ocean right after a storm. The water will be churning like a boiling pot and the colors blending together. You can’t tell the blue or green apart anymore, because they aren’t. They aren’t apart anymore. They’ve become one giant mix, like the stormy grey sky. The perfect blend of family. The perfect equation inside of me.

I like my eyes. They make me me. I don’t have the repetitive brown eyes; I’m not like all of them. I’m different. They say brown is a dominant color. I proved them all wrong. The perfect equation inside of me.

Addie

Prophecy Eyes by Addie
My eyes, like twinkling stars.
Unlike my mothers mossy green eyes; my father’s undecided eyes- which change from constantly between grassy green and grizzly brown, or even my little sister’s hazel, like fall eyes. I’ve been blessed with the gift of uniqueness, the power of beauty and destruction.
A blue eye is a true eye,” said by William R. Alger.
Blue is true, just like me.
“Beeeee-autiful, with a tiny twist of lavender,” said my sweet, old, green-eyed grandma.
I stand out from my family.
I maintain the color of the sky on a perfectly clear day, the sparkly pool waves that dance around with the screaming kids during the steamy summer heat, and the color of the blue moon on a winter’s night.
I am. Me.
Not like the twistedness of my daddy, calmness of my mom, or craziness of my little sister, but pure and perfect, like my blue. It holds the power of me, locked deep and far away inside of me. People will stare into my cheer-blue eyes, which cover deep pain and loss and turn it into something beautiful, perhaps doves or stringy pearls.
The windows of the soul.
With my eyes, I hold the power, the power of me, of who I am.
You just gotta learn how to read me.

Vignettes

After reading the fantastic book, House on Mango Street, students wrote vignettes in the style of author Sandra Cisneros. The original piece by Cisneros, called "Hairs", focused on the main character, Esperanza, her hair and her relationship to her family. Through this writing activity, students practiced using different stylistic devices, while revealing their own relationships to their family members through the physical attributes they share, or those that make them unique.

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